He waits patiently for Madge to return home.

Gale tries his hardest to distract himself with things around the house. He fixes the leak in the bathroom sink and hammers down a nail by the door that is looking suspiciously dangerous. When he figures out that there's really nothing else he can do except cook dinner he jumps right into that, preparing a meal that will surprise her when she gets home. If she ever gets home, he feels like he's been waiting for hours. When's the last time he was home before her? Never, he thinks.

Just as the pot starts to boil and Gale's about to add some katniss plant into it, the door swings open. Gale abandons the cutting board immediately and rushes to find his wife kicking her shoes off at the door.

"Did you get them?" he asks.

"I got them," Madge answers, holding up a manila envelope. Gale springs toward her with his eyebrows creased. "As promised I haven't looked." Her eyes find his. "Before dinner or after?"

An uneasy feeling is settling in his stomach. He wants to get this over with. "Why wait?" Gale reaches forward and retrieves the envelope from her hands. Their test results. Contained within this thin graying folder will be the answer to see if Madge and Gale are able to have children, if they're fertile or not. "Let's sit down," he breathes.

Madge agrees and quickly follows him to the couch. His hands are shaking to the point in which he can't get the damn tab open. Madge carefully rests her hands on top of his.

"Gale," she whispers. He lets out a deep breath and his eyes fall shut. "Whatever happens…" she starts. "I love you."

His eyes ease open and a sincere smile takes hold of his face. "I love you too," he tells her. "No matter what." Gale hands her the envelope. "You do it." He can't stop shaking, she's got to be the one. "I, I just—" Madge accepts the envelope quietly after giving his hands a quick squeeze.

Gale lets out a deep breath as she undoes the tab that's containing the papers and feels his entire body freezing up as she extracts them. Her eyes dart over the words quickly, he can't see and he doesn't want to. Madge's eyebrows furrow and his stomach sinks, but then she laughs. She laughs. Madge turns to face him, her eyes bright and her smile wide.

She doesn't even have to say it before he lunges at her, pulling his wife into his arm as tightly as he can. He peppers kisses down her neck as her body squeezes against his and then he's laughing too, hot tears leaking from his eyes as she reads aloud.

"Gale Hawthorne, fertile. Margaret Hawthorne, fertile. The two are able to produce a healthy child."

"I love you," he croaks. Again and again. I love you I love you I love you. "We're gonna have a baby, Madge! We're going to have a baby!" And she's nodding and laughing and running her hands through his hair and saying it back, I love you I love you I love you.

Curled up in bed together Gale continuously rakes his hands through Madge's hair. She's lying on his chest once again tracing patterns around his belly button, the sensation sending tingles toe his toes. He watches her back rising and falling as she breathes and can't help but smile again.

They've spent a lot of their time since Gale got out of the jailhouse in bed together. Trying for a child, yes, but mostly just needing the feeling of being with one another. Her lips stretch and press a quick kiss to his chest and Gale chuckles, the sound rumbling in his stomach.

"Hey, Madge," he murmurs.

"Mmm?"

"We got so caught up in all of it I forgot to ask you how your first day was." She looks up through her golden waterfall of hair, her eyes bright and questioning. They skipped over an early dinner, pulling the pot off the fire, and crawled into bed together the second they read their results. But today was a big day for Madge regardless. "Your new job?"

"Oh." Madge lowers herself back to his chest. "Nothing special. Wentworth was watching me like a hawk, though. I just had to keep smiling and asking questions. Mostly I just moved into the new office."

Gale frowns. "There's only a few more weeks of school left," he says. "Are they getting a new teacher to replace you?"

"Not yet," she tells him. "I've got to finish off the year and take on the new jobs as Overseer, but not much is going on now so that's good."

"At least you get to be with the kids a little longer, right?"

She sighs. "Right." His fingers twist through her hair. "It just sucks. Getting ready for the new school year over the summer was always one of my favorite parts of the year, you know? Making seating charts and planning out lessons and getting the slides ready…" she trails off with a huff. "I'll deal with it."

"I wish you didn't have to," he murmurs. "God, Madge, I hate that you had to do that."

"I don't regret it," she tells him. "Especially not after you told me what they did to you." She looks up at him again, shaking her head slightly. "I'll still get to be with the kids. It won't be the same but I can walk through the halls and make conversation, you know? And I can still tutor after school. It's not all bad. Not yet, anyway."

"I just wish it wasn't how it had to be."

The second Gale gets home from work Madge rushes him inside, helping him remove his mining jacket and hanging it by the door. His eyes are dark with confusion but she only shakes her head.

"There's a mandatory viewing on TV," she chokes out. His eyes only darken as he quickly unlaces his boots and kicks them by the door. "They told us about it today."

"What is it?" he asks.

"I don't know but it's something bad." He follows her to the couch where their television is already on. "The camera, it's just been stationed here all day."

Gale feels a lump in his throat and can't swallow it down. The camera is pointed to town square around the same area of the whipping post. The post itself is out of view but Gale still feels his stomach turning over because he knows that it's nearby. Anything that has to do with that whipping post makes him sick. He pulls Madge closer to him instinctively and she nestles into his side.

"You don't think—" she starts, but Gale nods once and effectively silences her. "I mean I could've put it together, but I… I didn't want to…"

"The whipping post," Gale says quietly, "it's over there. If that's what was going to happen they'd be showing that. But the concrete wall…" Gale swallows thickly. "This isn't a whipping," he whispers. "It's an execution." Madge buries herself closer to him and his grip is so strong he pulls her all the way onto her lap. "When it comes on," he says, "don't you dare watch."

Gale's wrong, though, there is a whipping. There're four whippings with twenty five lashes each. Gale watches at they bring out men that he knows, men that work in the mines and helped lead their quiet protest, and tie them to the whipping post. He watches them get their wrists bound and winces every time the whip makes contact with their skin.

Madge squeezes his hand tightly as if to say why are you torturing yourself? Why are you still watching? Close your eyes. Don't look. But he can't look away. Men he knows are torn down to a bloody pulp like he was all those years ago.

"If you hadn't gotten me out," he croaks, "I'd be there now."

"Gale—"

"No," he growls, "I would. You know it and I know it and there's no use in pretending." She nestles back into him, grabbing both of his hands now, and pulling them into her lap. "This isn't right, Madge. This has to be stopped."

"I know."

"We've got to do something about it!" Madge looks up at him and most definitely can see the anger burning in his eyes, he can tell by the face she makes. "All we did was skip a shift to protest! We didn't want to start a damn war!" She lets him yell as the TV shows all the other men being forced to stand feet away from the post and watch as the torture occurs. "We didn't want a revolution we just wanted to make sure that our families were taken care of if something happened to us! We just wanted to make sure we were safe! We didn't want this!"

"Gale," she whispers. He clenches his teeth and fixates his stare at a point on the ground. "I know."

"I can't live like this," he hisses. "We can't live like this."

Madge releases her hold on his hands and reaches up to cup his cheeks. She pulls him so he's forced to look at her. "I know," she repeats. "But what is there to do about it? They'll just lock you up again, take you to the whipping post—"

"Don't," he snaps. "I know there's nothing to do, I just…" he groans, tearing his chin from her grasp. "I hate it. I hate this."

He doesn't want to live like this. He doesn't want to raise a child in a world like this. There's always something to dissuade them. He doesn't want Madge to have to go to work and fear for her life every day. He doesn't want to be treated worse than the coal that is exported to the Capitol. He just wants equality. Safety. Freedom. Hope.

"Gale," the panic in Madge's voice gets him to look up again. The last man was taken from the whipping post and the only one left is Landon, the leader of the whole thing. They walk him past the whipping post and to the concrete wall. "They're—"

"Don't watch," he stresses. He pulls her closer, his arm wrapping up to pull her head into his chest.

Her chin quivers against him. Romulus Thread walks up to Landon and in his hand is a blindfold. "I don't want it," Landon says. He swallows. "I want to watch." Thread shoves the black cloth into his pocket and nods once.

"Any last words?" Thread asks.

Landon shakes his head. "I think this says enough."

The leader of the protest looks into the camera. There is no fear in his eyes, there is acceptance. He is somber. Landon swallows once and straightens his stance, holding his tied hands in front of him. Thread makes the call. The firing squad lifts their guns.

Landon's dead before his body collapses on the ground.

The air in District 12 is different. Everyone can feel it. People walk around in fear, constantly glancing over their shoulders and hurrying away as quickly as they can whenever a peacekeeper is spotted. Madge realizes that most of her students are staring out the school window instead of paying attention, their eyes glued to the whipping post which can so clearly be seen from her classroom.

Two of the four men that were whipped on television succumb to their wounds and die, the other two are said to be recovering slowly but surely. They're at the Everdeen house in the Victors Village. Katniss says she doesn't mind, but that might be because she's disappearing down to Peeta's house is whenever things get rough.

After Madge is done with her students she goes into her new Overseer office and fingers through a few files, not really paying any attention to what she reads. Things will start to get rough when the new school year rolls around but for now it's not so bad. She's sure there are multiple cameras in her office as well as microphones, so she hums to herself to pass the time rather than muttering angry things under her breath.

Wesley peeks his head into her office before knocking and makes her jump.

"Geez, kid," Madge rests her hand over her heart. "You scared me!"

"Sorry Madge," he grins. "Ready to walk home?"

"Yeah, yeah," she nods, closing the folder on her desk. "Give me a minute. You can come in while you wait if you want." Wesley peers into the room and wrinkles his nose. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Wesley shrugs. "This room just gives me the creeps is all. You should bring in some paintings. Or open the windows, or something. It's dark." Madge glances around and sighs. He's right. It is creepy. She gathers her belongings quickly and flicks the light (that barely illuminates the room) off and followings Wesley out the door. They're barely out of the school when he asks, "Do you have any new information?"

Madge frowns. "New information about what?"

"Come on, Madge! You agreed to help me find out who my dad is!" Oh, that's right. She did do that. "Posy and I are doing all we can it's practically impossible! You've got that fancy new job now, can't you look at a file or something?"

"It's not that easy, Wesley, it would look suspicious."

"Hey, I'm a bad kid," he says, "you could say it was because—"

"Wesley," she sighs. "You're not a bad kid." Not like he used to be, anyway. He hardly even curses anymore. "I don't have any new information, okay? And when I do I'll let you know." The kid frowns. He runs his hands through his dark hair and his green eyes grow dark. "I'm sorry. Okay? You know how much has been going on lately."

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, "I know." And it's not as though she doesn't want to help, she does, but Gale warned Madge about giving Wesley false hope and that's the last thing she wants to do. Especially when District 12 is the way it is. "I've got new information, though."

Madge can't help but smile. "Oh do you?" If it turns out that Wesley and Jace really are related Madge can understand where this kid gets his tactics from. Always something or other to be doing.

"My mom was mumbling in her sleep the other day, something about some guy." Madge's veins turn cold as she waits for him to continue. "She just kept saying his name over and over again. Okay, no, this isn't the first time she's done it but it's the first time I actually listened. She always says the same stuff, I just thought it was nonsense."

"How do you know it wasn't?"

"It's a last name!" he says. "It's got to be!"

"Wesley—"

"I know it's a stretch, Madge," Wesley frowns, "you don't gotta tell me that. But just, ugh," he groans and drags his hands through his hair again. "If you know anyone with the last name Morin, can you just look into it for me?"

Madge ends up at the jewelry shop in town that night needing answers immediately. She rushes in and the bell rings and she finds Jace sitting behind the counter, lazily browsing a book and looking as though he's going to fall asleep. The jewelry shop doesn't get too much business.

"Jace," she blurts. He holds up his hand to silence her. "Put that damn book away I need to talk to you."

"Shit, Madge," he frowns. "I only have a few sentences of this chapter left, can you—" he stops when she slams her hands down on the counter, quickly closing his book. "Okay! Okay! What do you want?"

"What's your last name?"

His frown deepens. "You made me close my book for that? Madge, you've known me for years, you know what my—" he huffs at the expression she's making. "Morin, my last name's Morin. Why?" Madge sighs loudly and leans down on the counter, propping herself up on her elbows and burying her face away. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"How do you feel about kids?" she murmurs.

He snorts. "With you? Last I checked you're married, Madge." The glare she gives him when she lifts her head is deadly. He holds his hands up in mock apology. "Kidding. Kids are fine, I guess? Really messy and loud most of the time. Plus they're super reliant and need lots of attention. Besides, I'm not seeing anyone. The chance of me ever having a kid is slim to zero. Why? What's wrong?"

"What if you could skip all that?" she asks. "Skip the messy babies and just have… I don't know, a teenager."

"Teenagers are worse," he says. "Don't you remember me as a teenager? Spoiled, rotten, rude, disrespectful…" Madge sighs again, forcing herself to stand. "I mean they're not all bad, but chances are they're not really good either."

Madge swallows. "What if you had one?"

"Had one what? A teenager?" Jace snorts again. "I don't know." His face is all laughs for a moment before it flickers, changing into something else. Concern. "Where are these questions coming from, Madge?" He stares at her a very long time, his features turning hard and sharp. "Madge," he repeats. "What's going on?"

"Let's just say," she whispers, "hypothetically, that when you were very young and in love, your lover got pregnant." Jace doesn't blink. He clenches his jaw. "And she never told you. And then, years later, you find out you've got a kid. What do you do?"

"Nothing," he growls, "because that didn't happen."

"Jace—"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Jace jerks his head angrily and slams his hands down on the counter. "How dare you! I tell you the only secret I've got and you go and turn it into this big joke!"

"Jace, no, that's not—"

"I don't have a kid, Madge, this isn't even funny." He pulls his book back out from under the table and shakes his head. "Get out."

"Jace, will you just let me explain—"

"I said get out," he snaps. "Get out!" Madge takes a deep breath as he extends his hand toward the door. "Get out of here!" She leaves without looking back.

A/N: Well there you have it! Let me know what you think?