Chapter 13: Fading

As the days passed, my bumps and bruises healed all the way. All that was left as a reminder of my accident was the gaping hole in my memory…and in my heart. I realized after my first week with them that almost any chance of my mother waking up from her trance were slim to none. She didn't know me, as much as I tried with her. My words and stories and pleas to help her somehow fell on deaf ears. So why did I stay? I guess I still had a sliver of hope that she would someday remember and come back. I had already lost my father, and in many ways Prim. I couldn't lose my mother as well. It didn't seem fair.

I dreamt that she would wake up and come back to me.

I would spend hours telling her the bits and pieces of my broken memory, talking until my head throbbed. I hoped and silently prayed that she would one day turn to me with a sliver of recognition and react. I held on to the notion that somewhere, trapped inside her mind, my mother was clinging to my words as a beacon of light and a motivation to someday wake up.

But she never did.

I was beginning to accept defeat, but I was stubborn. Too stubborn. How could I fail when it was my mother? This wasn't algebra; failure wasn't an option. This was family, and I couldn't give up on her. The same way I couldn't give up on Prim. Silly, vapid, materialistic Prim. Part of me blamed her and hated her and wanted to scream at her for being so shallow. How could she allow herself to get so sucked in to the web the Hawthornes had woven for her? Practically the one thing I could remember from my childhood was the sense of pride my parents had instilled in me. Never be ashamed to be who you are, they had told me. We were told to hold our heads high and not value materialistic things and pine after things we didn't have. Or, never could have. We were the Everdeens, and we were proud of who we were. My father had taught us that even those with all the money in the world still had problems; no one's life was perfect, nor was it what it always seemed. Prim and I had listened carefully and taken his words to heart. We had worn our threadbare thrift store clothes and played with second hand toys our entire lives and with our heads held high. Our parents worked hard for us to have what we did, and for the most part we always accepted it as a finality that we couldn't change.

I felt like Prim was ashamed of our past.

But then, parts of me understood. Prim, who never complained about endless hand me downs, socks that needed darning and not always enough to eat at night. The little girl who had gone almost five months with a cavity in her molar that we couldn't afford to fix. These details were blurry and fleeting, but I still knew them. She had gone without for her entire life, so of course she was completely taken with this lifestyle; it was plush and easy and comfortable. She now had things at her fingertips that hadn't been even a dream for her as a child.

I hated her for the way she behaved now, but I understood it. She had gone from having nothing at all to anything she wanted. There was a part of me that didn't begrudge her of that. In her mind, my mother was being cared for and she was living out her dream with her childhood crush. Prim was simply reaping the benefits of her situation after living with nothing for her entire life. I didn't blame her for wanting to enjoy it, but….at what cost?

I had been at the Hawthorne's for about a week. I would spend all day with Cora and my mother, and evenings with Prim and Hazelle. Gale was a workaholic and was never home, but that was alright.

I was avoiding Gale.

At night I would toss and turn in my plush room that they were letting me stay in, my mind fighting to remember. Prim would beg me to indulge her and enjoy their lavish new lifestyle. One day I had allowed her to drag me to a shopping center on the edge of town. It was full of fancy boutiques and high end jewelry stores and I would have never wanted to go there on my own. I had admired a scarf on a table until I flipped over the price tag and nearly choked. But Prim seemed so oblivious! The saleswomen fawned over her, bringing her new things to try on and oohing over her engagement ring. It was clear that the Hawthorne name meant a lot in this town. And my sister had loved every second of their doting. She had piled up the clothes and jewelry and shoes and just stupid things until I was about ready to burst. Then she had simply handed them a black piece of plastic with Rory's name on it.

I had to restrain myself from dragging her out by her hair.

But, the purpose of that day had been served. Sunday was the one day a week Gale didn't work, and he was home all afternoon. The shopping trip had kept me out of his line of vision the entire day and for that I was grateful. It wasn't that I knew we weren't going to eventually talk again. It was just something I was more than happy to stubbornly avoid.

I could see myself with Gale in my blurry memories. Hell, those were the last ones I had. But something had to happen for me to end up with Peeta.

Prim said we grew apart. Hazelle just said we had a tiff about something she was never sure of. But I could tell they wanted me back with Gale more than anything else. To make matters even more uncomfortable, I'm pretty sure Gale did too. He made that clear the day he finally cornered me in the library. I was sitting with my mother on the couch by the fire, reading silently at her side when he made his sly approach.

"You've settled in."

His voice startled me, making me jump and clutch my book. Gale was quiet and stealthy, and pretty much the only human being who could ever sneak up on me – that hadn't changed. His words were more a statement than anything.

I watched him cross the room, his strides long and full of purpose. I glanced over at my mother, who sat next to me on the leather couch. She held a botany book in her thin, frail hands, but her eyes had yet to even glance at the page. It was a book she would have died for when I was a child; thick, colorful pages and vibrant pictures mixed into and endless text of information. But now, she could only stare.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and watched as he made his way to the bar in the corner. The sunlight caught the brown liquid as it flowed into the crystal glass grasped in his palm.

"I have," I said simply, reaching over to turn a page for my mother. She glanced up at me in a haze, her eyes unreadable.

Gale ambled over, sitting across from us on the opposite couch. The Hawthornes had an extensive library in their new home, complete with a sitting area, a fireplace, and best of all – more books than I had ever seen in my life. That day was my fifth straight morning of coming here to read with my mother.

I bit my lip and watched her as she moved her eyes to Gale's. He quickly averted his gaze and moved his piercing stare to mine.

I spied the drink in his hand and raised an eyebrow. "Bit early for that, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "It's Sunday. I don't work on Sundays."

"Of course," I muttered. Gale had been noticeably absent for most of my time in the mansion, as had Hazelle's husband. The mines were clearly the most important thing to them now, and they made no secret of it. Even Prim's fiancé Rory had a high paying job in the offices downtown, and he was in his first year of college. Prim was completely and utterly wrapped around his finger. He needed only say one word and she would jump to his every whim.

It pained me to see how money had changed things so drastically.

"I wanted to apologize," he started. I looked up at met his eyes with surprise. Gale rarely apologized for anything. In fact, in my memory this was a first. When we fought as a couple, it rarely ended in an apology. Usually it ended in a marathon sex session that left us too utterly exhausted and spent to talk anymore. Then, it would blow over. Yes, Gale approaching me to apologize was certainly new.

"For?"

He swallowed as if he was swallowing his pride. I watched it scratch the insides of his throat all the way down. I could get used to watching Gale apologize.

"For the hospital. For the way I acted. It was uncouth of me to… well, to behave the way I did. I'm not a vulgar person."

I nodded – he was telling the truth. Gale was a lot of things – hot tempered, reckless, moody and passionate – but he was not vulgar indeed.

"I know that."

The room was so quiet I could hear my mother's soft breaths.

"I made an ass of myself, as usual."

"Yes, you certainly did."

Gale frowned, resembling a kicked puppy for a second. "Need I remind you he punched me first?"

"You deserved it," I reminded him. "You were egging him on and you know it. Come on Gale, that much hasn't changed."

"I don't want you to think badly of me. I reacted to seeing you…and him. My pride couldn't take it, Catnip. You know how I am about things like that."

"That's no excuse Gale. I don't condone fighting, especially over stupid things. But you pushed him. You just didn't think he would do it."

"Fine, fair enough. I said I was sorry, and I meant it. You of all people should know that I don't take my apologies lightly. When I'm wrong, I say it. And I was wrong to behave such a way."

I tried not to let my shock register on my face. The old Gale wouldn't have apologized so soon, if ever. I wondered what sparked this.

"Did you know I was married before the accident?"

He gave a curt nod. "I did. It was in the papers. I saw the announcement. I knew."

"And?"

"And what? I said I knew," he snapped.

I watched him frown into his drink. "So you knew. That doesn't tell me anything."

"What do you want from me?"

"I hardly think you and my husband fought each other over nothing, Gale. He might have hit you first but you deserved every bit of it. Why?"

His eyes flicked up to mine as he pondered my question for a few moments. "It made me crazy. So crazy, to think that… I'd lost you."

"I'm married. You did lose me. Or… I don't know. We lost each other," I said bitterly.

"I know that. And…I'm so sorry for everything. The hospital, your accident, just…everything."

"My falling out of a tree wasn't your fault."

"I know that. But I still feel….like it is, I guess. We used to hunt on Sundays, do you remember?"

I could only nod.

He continued, his voice tight. "We saved Sundays to go out in the woods. I blame myself for…I… I would have never let you fall out of that tree, Katniss. Part of me… a stupid part of me thinks that if I would have swallowed my pride and been there that day that this wouldn't have happened."

"Gale, I know we broke up a long time ago."

He nodded. "I know that. Listen, Katniss. I've done a lot of things the wrong way in my life. Some right, but mostly wrong. And the worst of it all is the fact that I lost you. And I didn't chase after you."

I looked away. "That's the thing about us hunters Gale. We're usually the ones doing the chasing. Not the other way around."

He stared at me for a moment before downing the brown liquid. I could smell the spicy flavor as he exhaled sharply, turning the crystal in his hands. "Right. Well…I guess that hasn't changed."

I watched as the woman across from me clicked her tongue as she tapped her pen on the arm of the chair. Her hair was arranged in a tight chignon that was teased on the top and her lipstick was the brightest pink I had ever seen. Her loud pink suit matched.

All in all, my new therapist Effie Trinket was the silliest woman I had ever met.

I eyed the degree on the wall and felt my eyes bulge as I read the title of the Ivy League School she had attended. My only thought was that she maybe had rich parents.

"So sad…so tragic," she moaned softly, her hand rising up to let her teeth chew the pen. Good lord, even her nails were pink.

"What?" I asked.

She didn't seem to notice that I hadn't been paying any attention. "To not remember anything. My poor dear…tell me how that makes you feel."

I frowned from my spot on the couch and struggled to find the words. It was obvious that Effie Trinket was out of her league here, so I would just have to indulge her for forty eight more minutes.

I could tell by the look in her eye it was going to be a long hour.

After a few more pointless days at my mother's side, Hazelle had gently suggested I see her therapist, Effie. I had more agreed to be polite rather than to seek actual help; however, I did secretly hope that a fresh perspective on my new life would be a step in the right direction. It had, to, right? So far, all Effie had done was ask me how I felt.

I didn't want to tell this twit how I felt. I wanted her to fix me, damn it.

"It makes me feel…um…sad. Yes. Sad," I answered briefly.

She pursed her pink lips. "Interesting," she said finally.

I rolled my eyes.

It was going to be a long hour.

I finished my hour of therapy and practically ran from the building. The sunlight was nearly blinding as I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my coat tighter around my body. The days were getting colder as fall slowly trudged into winter. I wondered when the first snow would be.

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and glanced around, quickly finding my surroundings. I realized that I had been dropped off by Hazelle's personal driver and had made no plans for a return trip home.

"Crap," I muttered. My boots scuffed at the rough cement beneath my feet as I slowly made my way forward. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't really want to go home, either.

Not home, I reminded myself. The Hawthorne's house is not home.

I had to face the reality of my situation. My mother didn't know me, and she made no sign that she would know me anytime soon. Anything I did to trigger her into some sort of state of awake did nothing.

So what was I doing there?

You're showing her the same kindness you would want.

She doesn't know you – she's gone forever.

You don't abandon family.

You do if all hope is lost.

My mind went back and forth, arguing with itself as I trudged along in the afternoon sunlight. People bustled around me, some moving fasters than others on the pretty, fall afternoon. I was in no hurry, I decided.

I walked along, blankly staring into store windows as I moved through the streets. It all looked familiar, but nothing stuck out. That is, until I saw him.

He didn't see me, but I saw him. His blonde hair glinted in the afternoon light that poured through the bakery windows. His unruly curls caught the sunshine as he grinned and chatted with customers on the other side of the glass. My eyes focused enough to see 'Mellark's Bakery' etched on the glass in front of me.

Before you all ask - YES - the next chapter is already finished. I'm putting the finishing touches on it and sending it to my lovely beta tonight. Oh, and thank you Phantom Serenity for your help with this one! I've been working on this story like crazy for the past few days, and I'm so excited to share it with you!

I'm also adding some photos for this story to my blog - so be sure to go check that out. Please review!