So we go. He moves quietly through the woods, from all the training, I'm sure, but not quite quiet silently, not like someone who's grown up here. He avoids the Peacekeepers like a champ, though, moving us through back alleys and forest edges to get to our house. We slip in through the back door, Edan's back looking newly horrifying at first glance.
Prim's talking when we first walk in; she stops when she sees me, and runs to hug me. "You're safe," she says in relief, and then she hugs Cato, too. I'm not sure who's more surprised, me or him. Awkwardly, he pats her back.
"What happened?" he asks.
"They're going to turn on the fence. And the new head Peacekeeper is out looking for more people to use as examples. Mom had me come here to make sure you're in here and safe. I'm going to call her now." She runs for the phone and starts to dial, but I'm not paying much attention to her.
Cato and I meet eyes, one thought clearly on both of our minds. "Gale," he says for me.
"You can't help him now," Edan speaks up from the table, clearly eavesdropping. "Don't bother. It's his problem."
"Stop," Ryan says, tired. "You decided to take the fall. Don't get pissed about it now."
"Just saying," Edan mutters rebelliously, but he keeps his mouth shut after that.
"Where is he, the woods?" Ryan asks. Cato and I both nod. "Why'd you leave him there? Why didn't he come back with you?"
Neither of us know how to answer; we look at each other, then down at the ground.
"Is that from him?" Ryan asks, motioning at Cato, his bruised face and hands.
"Yep," Cato says blandly.
Ryan looks at me, and I get the feeling he knows exactly why they were fighting. But he doesn't say anything. And then neither of us have a chance to continue this uncomfortable conversation, because Prim gets off the phone and pounces on Cato. She makes him sit down on the floor against the wall, since all the chairs are occupied or full of stuff, and then she cleans up his face and hands.
I don't get in the way of their little moment, but I sit next to him against the wall and watch the two of them. She treats him like she treats everybody, kind, sweet, and gentle, but that's different to him – I can tell from how he's acting.
He's been gentle to me before, but never the way he's treating her. Everything he does is extremely careful – it's crazy, he's not even making any fast movements. Like she's some kind of baby bird and he doesn't want to crush her. The two of them are almost adorable together. It only makes me like him more.
Prim fills us in after Cato's cleaned and bandaged; the new squad of Peacekeepers are on a rampage, taking prisoners left and right for minor infractions of little rules nobody cared about before now. They probably won't arrest the victors, but my mother wants us all inside until she gets home.
We all stay in the kitchen for no apparent reason. Edan can't move, Ryan won't, but the other three of us have no real reason not to go off somewhere. We just don't. After Prim finishes with Cato, I move closer to him and his arm ends up around me. Prim takes up a place on his other side, asking him a million questions about what it's like in his district because she learned a while ago that I'm bad at description.
Cato's not, though. He's actually surprisingly really good at it. The places he describes aren't any I visited with him – no training center or decadent house with its cold inhabitants. The things he talks about are unlike anything I saw while I was there; stores full of polished stone sculptures, barrels of pebbles streaked through with bright colors, mountainside homes surrounded by pine trees. I don't think he's making any of this up; that's not like him. But I'm officially super curious.
Prim gets up to take care of Edan, and I seize my chance to talk to Cato. "And what exactly are these place you're talking about?" I ask in an undertone.
He shrugs. "I don't know. Places in my district."
"Yeah? Where? I didn't see any of them."
"Well, they're not in the city. They're out where I grew up."
"You didn't grow up in the city?"
"No. My mom and dad were miners. I moved to the city when I was eight to train. And then when Sophia and Silas got old enough to be volunteered, they moved, too."
This is all new information to me. I frown, unsure if I understand this. "Wait. So you moved to the city alone? When you were eight?"
"Yeah," he says, watching me carefully, because he can tell I'm having trouble processing some of this but he evidently doesn't understand why. "A lot of kids do that. You can live with the other tributes, there's like a dorm or something."
So much makes sense now, so much of his personality and how he acts. And that wake up he did in the training facility, that has to be something from his childhood of training. It's not like he had any kind of childhood aside from that. And it's even crazier that he's somehow broken out of that whole lifestyle.
"Is something wrong?" he asks me. Prim comes back and sits next to him; she looks expectantly at me for my answer.
"Nope. Nothing wrong," I decide to say, and I reach over and punch him in the shoulder, because I have this crazy urge to just hug him or something. And Cato, being Cato, doesn't even seem to feel it. He just smiles at me.
"Get a room," Edan mutters loudly.
"Stop," Ryan sighs at him. "Katniss didn't do anything."
"Yeah, whatever," his brother rolls his eyes.
"I did, though," I speak up. "It's fine, I don't care if you're mad at me. I mean, I care, but I'm not too upset about… you have the right to… damn it," I finish in a sigh. "Do you know what I'm trying to say?"
Ryan's doing his best not to smile, same with Cato, Prim giggles, and Edan looks reluctantly amused. "I guess," he says. "If I could do it over, though, I'd think twice about sticking up for that Gale, though. He was a total jerk," he says with feeling.
I can't defend him, but I won't say anything bad about him, so I just stay quiet. "Know what you mean," Cato says, and coughs, wiping blood on his sleeve.
"You'd be fine if you'd fought back," I point out.
"You said not to," he shrugs.
I make a face at him. He squeezes me close to him for a second, and I catch Ryan looking at both of us. I can't tell if he's upset or not. "Are you two…" he starts to ask.
"Yep," I cut him off. "We are." I'm aware how terrible that looks, that I've just moved on without a second thought, but that's not how it went, and I'm hoping they'll understand that, somehow, maybe. But I won't apologize for it. The only person whose opinion I really care about is Prim's, and she only seems happy for us. She can't stop smiling, at least, which I figure is a good sign.
And Peeta's brothers both have the same expression, a sort of acceptance of the inevitable. "Good for you," Ryan says after a second, but he can't quite look at me the same. I guess I understand that.
"Good for you," Edan echoes glumly.
"So you're not worried about Gale at all, Katniss?" Prim asks me after a long silence.
Right. She still has no reason to hate him. "No, I'm worried," I hedge, because although I'm maybe sort of worried, like in the back of my mind, the thing I'm thinking most about is Cato, how well he's fitting into what's going on here.
Prim gives me a not amused look. "I'm not stupid. I know you're mad at him," she says knowledgably. "And it makes sense, too. But you're not even a little worried that he'll get caught on the other side of the fence?"
"Yeah, I'm worried about it, but it's not the first thing on my mind. Gale can take care of himself, he's a big boy now," I say firmly. "He's the idiot that went running off, anyways."
"Whoa. Didn't see that one coming," Edan comments.
I'm kind of annoyed with him now. "Do you have something to say?" I ask him.
"Yeah, actually, I do." Ryan tries to stop him, but Edan's having none of that. "No, listen. I got punished for that guy. Excuse me for not liking him. And I never thought you two would turn on each other. That's all."
"Why's that?" I frown.
"You two have been joined at the hip for years. Everybody knows that."
I didn't know that. Next to me, Cato shifts uncomfortably, and I nudge his shoulder with mine. "Yeah, well, we're not anymore. Because he's an idiot," I say sharply.
"You don't have to tell me that. I always thought the guy was a bit of an asshole, myself," Edan comments, and although he's been abrasive and a jerk, I think he means this, and more than that, he's not just saying it to hurt me.
"Yeah, well…" I shrug, because Gale's done and said some horrible things, but if that's him, then I don't even know what I am. "I guess we've all got our problems," I finally sigh, and let Cato pull me closer than before. He knows exactly what I'm talking about.
We get food after a few hours, a mix of stuff from the Capitol and food from the woods. It tastes so good to me, after all that made-to-order crap. Prim helps Edan sit up enough to eat well enough, and the whole thing feels almost like eating at during the games. Maybe that's just the fear, though, the feeling of being chased.
After that, we don't do much talking. I guess I run out of things to say, and the tension is getting to us. Definitely to me, at least. Ever since Prim brought it up, Gale getting caught has been weighing on my mind. Ryan falls asleep leaning back in his chair at some point, gently snoring. Edan seems to have run out of toxic comments for the time being, so he's quiet – I think he's asleep. And Prim subsides into silence, snuggling into Cato's other side like she's known him forever and eventually falling asleep. I kind of end up lost in thought for a while, but when I do look over at her, just to check on her, his arm's around her, and he's looking at her face intently.
"So you two are getting along," I observe.
"I guess we are." He doesn't even look at me, so entranced by her. I can understand why – she's kind of angelic looking, though I never really think about it. And really, she looks more like his sister than mine, just on looks alone.
"You like her?" I ask, mostly joking.
He answers seriously, though. "Yeah. She's… different. Than my sister."
"That's for sure. But how do you mean?"
"I don't know, my sister is all… well, she's more like me. And she's more like you," he says motioning at Prim. "I guess that's it."
"Fair enough." It's getting dark outside, and I'm getting worried about why Mom hasn't called yet. "Should I call the mayor's house?" I ask nobody in particular.
"No. If those dicks are anywhere near there, they'll get nosy. Guarantee. And I don't really feel like risking my ass again. Not much of it left, to be honest."
So Edan's not asleep after all. "Good point," I say, trying not to think about how much he just heard while we were talking. Great. "You wouldn't happen to have some super-secret knowledge about the Peacekeepers, would you?" I ask Cato, mostly joking
"No. I didn't go that route. But…"
"But?" I prompt.
"This same type of thing happened with eleven. They had a victor and then security cracked down. Might mean something," Cato says. Again, his encyclopedic knowledge of the games is coming in handy.
"Great, so we'll be nothing but slave labor in five years. Good to know."
Edan's obnoxious, but he has a point. "I won't let that happen," I say firmly.
Cato looks at me sharply, but he doesn't argue. Edan snorts. "Whatever. Even you can't face off with all of them. Though believe me, I'd want to see that."
"Don't give her ideas," Cato says.
I'm not positive, but I think that's offensive. "Hey," I start to complain.
"Don't take it like that," he sighs. "The last thing you need is the thought that you can actually lead a revolution. You can't do that. They'd kill you."
"Alright, alright. No revolution," I say.
"Good." He sounds relieved.
"For now."
"Oh, stop it," he says affectionately, and even though we're in danger and there's an injured boy on the table in front of us, I don't think I've ever been so happy.
Mom walks in a little after midnight, worried sick, but we're all okay. Edan's finally asleep, I'm dozing a bit, and Cato's wide awake. I hear him talking to her, but don't bother to let either of them know I'm awake.
"Are they okay?" she asks him quietly.
"Yeah. Prim kept his back clean or whatever." I'm sure it's just my being half-asleep, but it almost seems like he says her name differently, like it's special.
"Oh, good. Anything happen?"
"We went to the woods. Fought with Gale. And he's caught on the other side of the fence."
I hear her gasp. "You're sure?"
"Pretty damn."
"Oh no."
A long silence.
"Did he do that to your face?"
"Yeah. Prim took care of that, too."
"Can you get her in bed for me?"
"Yeah." He gets up, and I almost fall before I stick my arm out in time. I open my eyes in time to see him pick Prim up like a baby and carry her towards the stairs. He comes back for me, pulls me to my feet.
I open my eyes, blink rapidly to bring things into focus. "What's going on?" I ask.
"Go to bed," my mother tells me softly.
"No." I shake my head. "Not until I know if Gale's alright."
"He'll be fine overnight," she reassures me. "Go."
I don't agree to it, but I don't disagree. "Will you wake me up as soon as there's news?"
"Of course."
I look to Cato. "You'll tell me?" I ask him.
"Yeah," he says, glancing at my mother, checking the answer.
"I'm not going up to my room," I inform them both.
"Then the couch," Mom says firmly. "Just a few hours."
She makes sense, unfortunately. I don't want to be exhausted the next time I see Gale. That won't help anything. So I go lie down on the couch and do my best to fall asleep. It takes almost an hour for me to stop overhearing Cato's and my mother's conversation in the kitchen and close my eyes for good.
They lied to me, though; they don't wake me up. I only wake up when I hear shouting outside. Immediately, I sit straight up, look around the room. Mom's at the window, peering through the edge of one curtain at the commotion outside. "Mom, what's going on?" I ask, standing and walking over to the window, but she holds me away.
"Nothing. Go stay with Edan."
I know that calm tone. It's the one she uses on patients, when something's about to go horribly wrong. "Gale's out there, isn't he," I say, increasingly frantic. "Mom. Don't lie to me."
"Get in the kitchen, with Prim and the boys," she says, practically begging me to listen.
But I stopped listening to her years ago. I avoid her hands, get to the window, and rip back part of the curtain. And there's Gale being paraded through the town by four Peacekeepers, one side of his face bruised already, his arms cuffed behind his back.
Things get blurry after that. I scream his name, lunge for the door, but Mom holds me back until Ryan and Cato run to me, each taking one arm and dragging me back. I fight them, harder than I've ever fought anyone before, because no matter what happened, that's my best friend out there. I need to get to him.
Their strength is undeniable, though. I can't get free, no matter how hard I fight. Ryan's shocked into letting go after I dig my nails into his hand, but Cato won't, no matter what. Even when I claw at his arms, kick him, hit him. All the time I'm screaming at him to let me go, let me get to Gale, but he stops me by clamping his hand over my mouth, and he doesn't move it, even though I bite his fingers as hard as I can.
He somehow works one arm around me in a giant bear hug, holding my arms down at my sides, the other one still covering my mouth, then yanks me down to the ground with him so he can wraps his legs over mine so I can't escape. Only then, when I know I'm not getting away, do I dissolve into hysterical tears.
Comfortingly, he shushes me, holding me like that until I stop fighting and just cry. When he's sure I'm not going to try to escape, he lets me go, turns me around and holds me in a hug now. "I need to be there," I repeat, getting slightly more coherent each time I say it.
"Calm down," he says authoritatively. "Nothing's going to happen until you're calm."
Obediently, I calm down, gradually breathing correctly again. I notice Ryan sitting on the couch, blood drying on his hands, and feel a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry," I say to him.
He shrugs. "I get it."
I turn back to Cato, see how much more blood there is on his face, arms, and hands. I guess he can read me, as usual, because he talks before I can. "Don't worry about it. It's okay. I've had worse."
I still feel terrible about it. I pull him closer again, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and taking a deep breath. "I'm still sorry. Where's Gale?"
Both boys exchange apprehensive looks – scared I'll go nuts again, probably – but Cato answers. "Outside. Town square. Mandatory meeting in five minutes. If you didn't calm down, then your mom was going to sedate you."
"Good to know." I raise my eyebrows, trying to cover my panic.
"Yeah. Will you be okay out there?" he asks.
"I'll have to be."
"You don't… you don't know what they're going to do to him," he says, as both a question and a statement. "You don't get it."
"No. What is it?"
He doesn't answer, instead saying to my mom at the window, "She can't go out there."
"I can, and I will," I say, but nobody's paying any attention to me.
"She has to, they'll check the houses," Mom says, peering out the windows again.
"It'll kill her," Cato says with certainty. "There has to be another way."
There isn't. They take me out to the town square still debating in whispers about what to do. Edan's allowed to stay in the house with Prim to care for him, but all of the rest of us have to leave. Cato won't let me more than a foot from him, one arm over my chest in either a protective way or a restrictive way; I can't tell which.
"Katniss, listen to me," he says seriously when we're in the town square. "Don't scream, alright? Whatever you do, don't."
"You're scaring me."
"That's not over by a long shot," he mutters, and then I catch a glimpse of what's on the platform in the front of the square, where I volunteered. Gale's tied between two posts, his shirt off, and the new Head Peacekeeper, Romulus, has something in his hand. But then the people in front of me shift again, blocking my view.
"What's going on? Cato, tell me what's going on." He won't. "Mom. Mom, tell me, please." I'm begging now, crying, because I think I know, but she won't tell me, either. "Ryan," I start, but he shakes his head once.
None of them will answer me, but I don't really need it. I know what's going to happen, and Cato was right. I can't watch it.
So I let him hold me against his chest, burying my face in his clothes. He covers my ears, too, as much as he can, but he can't protect me from everything. I still hear the crack of the whip, the whispers and gasps of the crowd. I manage to hold it together for a while, through most of the punishment, but then I hear Gale groan after a blow, and I've lost it.
I break free of Cato in a burst of superhuman wiley strength and push my way to the front of the crowd. His back, God, his back – it's worse than Edan's, just a slab of raw meat, and I don't know how he's made it this long. How I have, even.
But I can't do it anymore. "Stop!" I scream at the edge of the stage.
Romulus smirks at me. "Someone has to pay," he says smugly. "It's only fair."
"Hasn't he paid enough? Let him go."
"I don't think so." He shakes his head. "Going past the fence is a serious offence, it can't just be ignored."
"I think it's safe to say you haven't ignored it." I try not to be so aware of Gale's torn-up back, just outside of my view, but it's there, weighing on me, and I can't think straight.
"Listen, missy. Someone has to take these lashes. He's got about a dozen left."
A dozen more would kill him. "I'll take them," I say without thinking.
"No!" Cato's up at my side in what feels like seconds. "No. I will."
Romulus looks at both of us, and I can tell this is giving him sick pleasure. "How cute," he says. I've never hated anything as much as I hate his smarmy face. "Aren't you enthusiastic. It's adorable."
"Don't," Cato says, his voice low and deadly. "Take him off. Put me on. Five extra lashes. That's the rules, straight from the handbook."
Romulus arches one eyebrow. "Somebody knows his way around a rulebook." He revels in his moment for a second, and then snaps at two of the other Peacekeepers, points at Cato. "You heard the victor. We've gotta honor his wishes."
Suddenly, it hits me what's going to happen. "No, Cato, don't do this," I say to him.
He shakes his head. "We both know it has to be me," he says. "Anything for family, right?"
Right. Since Gale's supposed to be my cousin, and he's half-dead. "I don't deserve you," I shake my head. "Not like this."
"Other way around." He almost smiles at me.
And then I'm being carried off the stage and he's being held down by three Peacekeepers, a fourth one ripping his shirt off. Gale's untied roughly, dropped into the arms of his mother, and Cato's tied down in his place. And then the whip cracks down on his shoulders for the first time.
I don't scream; no matter what he says, he's doing this for me, and I know it. The very least I can do is be here, watch it happen.
It's hard, though. Every blow makes me flinch, even though he barely twitches a muscle. And underneath the new the bloody welts, there's all of his old scars, ones I haven't seen before. If I'm not mistaken, it looks like he's been whipped before, harder, enough to leave thick white lines over his back. And there's slices from something big clawing him, an exit wound from the bullet that went in around the front of his stomach, other scars I can't begin to think of explanations for.
So I try not to think. I just watch, hands clenched into fists, and bite back all my screams. If he can be quiet, so can I. I stand there until Romulus stalks away, furious at his fun being messed with, leaving Cato tied to the posts.
People filter away, sickened and quietly scared; they won't stick around any longer than necessary. I run up onto the platform, untie him and let his arms fall to his sides. He doesn't try to stand, so I kneel next to him, put my hand on the back of his neck, one of the few places I can reach that isn't hurt, and do my best not to look directly at his back.
"Are you okay?" I ask. Ridiculous question.
"I will be," he says after a second, his voice thick. "Is he?"
"I don't know." I glance at the retreating crowd; several miners are carrying Gale toward my house. "Why do you care? He beat your face in a day ago."
"I don't like him. But you do. And I'm kind of done with people dying for now, y'know?" He hauls himself to his feet, takes a second to steady himself. I pick up his shirt from the floor and give it to him.
"How bad is your back?" I ask, looking. I get a glimpse of split skin, blood, and purple bruising, then he turns to block my view, puts on his shirt.
"Bad," he says. "But I'll survive. Come on." He takes my hand and takes several steps towards the stairs.
"I'll have Prim look at your back or something. Or Mom," I say, looking at his face anxiously, but he doesn't seem to feel anything.
"Don't," he says. "They'll be busy. He got at least thirty. If he makes it through this, he'll never be the same."
"How do you know so much about this?" I ask. Not sure I want the answer.
"It's more common at home. Happens a lot."
"To you?" He stumbles, almost goes down. I put my hand on his back to steady him, accidentally make him flinch, and my hand comes away bloody. "Sorry."
"It's fine. Yeah, to me sometimes. To everybody."
Not for the first time, I realize he had an insane childhood that I don't know the half of, probably don't want to know. "Oh," I say, and I hold his hand tighter.
We get inside and it's like a flashback of yesterday; everyone's moving everywhere, carrying Edan out to the couch, getting Gale's limp body on the table. Women are filing in with buckets of ice from their houses, piling them on the counter. Cato won't let me too close to the kitchen; he holds me around the waist, and I don't fight too hard, because I don't want to hurt him.
"Will you at least let me look at your back?" I say. I can't just stand around in the front hall while this happens.
He hesitates, and I remember that he's been trying to hide his scars from me. "I'll be okay," he says. "You don't have to."
"I know I don't have to, I want to."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
He nods after a second. "Okay."
I make a break for the kitchen. "I need supplies," I say convincingly.
"I'll get them for you. Go to your room, I'll be right up there."
He's not going to let me do anything else, so I obey. Anxiously, I wait for him, sitting on the side of the bed. He's up here in under five minute with water, bandages, antibacterial things, sticky things to hold skin together. He puts it all on the bed, sits down, and doesn't move for a second.
"Your shirt has to come off," I say gently.
"I know." After several more seconds, he reaches up and pulls the shirt back off again. It's spotted with blood, in quantities that make me seriously worried. But that doesn't stop me – I take his arms and turn him around.
It's bad. Not as bad as Gale or Edan, but still painful. Long reddish-purple welt, split open in some places and oozing dark blood. That's what I take care of first, the blood. I clean it off with a wet rag. He doesn't even flinch.
"Am I hurting you?" I ask after several minutes of him not saying a thing.
"Uh. I guess… well, yes, but that's… it's okay," he says. It's pretty obvious that he doesn't understand this question.
"If you're sure." Something about it still feels weird about him not seeming to feel this, though, and I don't like it. I do my best to put bandages on what's bleeding, stick everything together in a way that'll stay. Now that the blood's gone, though, I can see his scars, which is almost worse. After everything's clean and bandaged, I don't move, looking at the marks on his back and shoulders, the bad ones, ones I haven't seen before.
"Please. Don't," he says softly. I think he can feel me examining him.
"Don't what?" I can't stop staring at the claw marks that stretch from his hip to the opposite armpit, like the ones on both our faces, only deeper and thicker.
"Don't look at me like that. A few scars aren't a big deal."
He's right. It's the stories behind the scars, the pain that went into them that has me so worried about him, so scared for what his past had to have been. But there's no way to explain that. "They wouldn't be if I didn't like you so much," I say. "What are the claw marks from?"
"Bear."
"What?" I say in disbelief.
"It was a trial, to test if I would be allowed to volunteer. Sword got knocked out of my hand, went for it, bear slapped me across the back. I killed it right after that, so." He says that flatly, like it's not even impressive or insane.
"And why didn't these get erased?"
"Not worth the effort. They only ever do the boys arms. It's quicker." There's a long pause where I just look at his back more and he doesn't move. "Why are you asking this? I mean, does it matter?"
"I guess not. But it matters to me." Slowly, I brush my fingers over the four parallel lines, from bottom to top, following the sweep of them. Goosebumps rise where I touch, but he doesn't move. "I don't like you being hurt."
"That's… nice. Of you," he says, unsure of how to handle this.
"Not as nice as you, taking the last twenty for Gale." I hesitate before saying this next thing. "I meant what I said then. I don't deserve you, doing that for me. I haven't done anything close to that for you."
"You saved my life."
"Why does everybody keep saying that? It wasn't just straight up like that. You saved mine too, you didn't kill me when you could've," I point out.
"Hell of a difference between not killing someone and saving them on purpose." He shakes his head.
"I was playing the game," I try to claim.
He isn't buying it. "You stopped playing the game when you asked about my family."
I forgot I did that. But now that I'm thinking about it, he's right, I did ask him that on top of the Cornucopia. "Yeah?" I say. "When did you stop playing the game?"
He turns to look at me, his face tight, and I almost think he isn't going to answer. "Probably when you jumped in front of the dog," he finally says. "But I didn't realize it then."
I hear Gale yell downstairs, and I jerk. Instinctively, Cato puts his arm in front of me, so I can't run out of the room. "We should go check on him," he says, businesslike, putting on his bloody shirt. "Just promise not to freak out."
"Okay," I nod. "But hold on."
He looks at me quizzically, doesn't move when I lean in and kiss him. After a second, he pulls me in, deepening the kiss and easily lifting me into his lap so he can get a better grip on me. He's hurt, smells like blood and sterile medical things, but I'm starting to think that doesn't matter, that maybe I just like kissing him. And that definitely scares me, because if I like kissing him for no apparent reason, then maybe it's time to reconsider how I think about him. I still have deniability now, I can still tell myself we're this thing slightly more than friends. But the way I like kissing him, that's more then that.
We break apart when Gale shouts again, somewhere beneath us and I flinch again, harder. "Let's go," he says, standing up and taking him with me. The two of us go down the stairs slowly, since he won't let me out of his arms. Then we're in the kitchen door and I can see Gale for the first time, really see all the cuts on his back, what Cato has but doubled, tripled maybe, and I don't think there's any skin left.
I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a strange sound, like crying almost. Blindly, I reach out for him, but Cato doesn't let me go. "I'm sorry," he says in my ear, but I'm not listening, because I've noticed Gale's not moving.
"Is he dead?" I choke out.
"Not by a long shot. Unconscious," my mother says grimly. She, Hazelle, and Prim all are working frantically over him with needles and thread, doing their best to put him back together, but I can still bone in places I shouldn't. "Go check on Edan," she tells Cato and me, and I can't tell who she's talking to. So we both go.
Edan's on the couch, lying on his stomach, looking bored. "Are you okay?" I ask him.
"Peachy," he says. "My back feels way less like a raw steak. Thanks for asking."
"Where's Ryan?" Cato speaks up.
"Mom dragged him home to help out. Don't envy him, that's for sure," Edan says. "So how's your friend?" His tone is reluctant, but I answer him anyways.
"I don't know."
Cato pulls me down into a chair, standing at my side stoically. I won't let him do that, though, because his back is hurt, so I insist that he sit. After some argument, he gets a wooden chair, spins it around, and leans on the back.
"Are you okay?" Edan asks him, having watched this whole thing.
"Yeah. I've had worse," Cato says. He's been saying that a lot, I've noticed, and it makes me wonder exactly how much worse that is.
"Well. You've got my vote," Edan says cheerfully.
"Vote for what?" I frown.
"Nothing," both boys say at once.
"How's the kid's back?" Edan asks. The question sounds forced; I am suspicious.
"Raw," I say. "No skin left on it."
"Damn."
"Yep."
Somehow, we're not really up to talking much more, so we keep mostly quiet after that. Cato draws me closer and I relax into him, interlacing my fingers with his to give me some reassurance that he's here, not broken beyond repair. Not another one.
And he's so warm and strong. I can't help but feel comforted by his presence, and now I'm starting to realize that's not something that I can just ignore. It's taken me a while, because I've been screwed up from Peeta's death and Gale's betrayal, but now I'm getting around to the facts of the matter. And those facts are frighteningly simple.
I like him more than I've liked anyone before. I like kissing him. I like being with him. And I've never liked anyone like this, not once in my life. Not even Peeta. I don't know how to categorize this, though. Or maybe I won't let myself know how. But I think I'm starting to.
This is maybe the worst possible time for a personal epiphany. I try to hold it in, shove it back into the recesses of my mind where it was before, where it belongs, but the realization seeps through, even still. He's not just a friend, even a best friend. He's more than that, better than that, and that's just how it is.
Prim walks in from the kitchen, her little face serious and pale. "Gale's awake. He wants to talk to you," she says. Cato gets up to come with me, but she stops him. "Just her."
"I'll be fine," I assure him. "I'll be fine." I squeeze his hand tight, then let go and follow Prim into the kitchen.
Gale's back is covered, bound tight in clean, white gauze, and his eyes are half open, but still, open. My mother's in a corner, not listening very intently. "Katniss," he says when he sees me. His voice is weak, his words slurred, and he's okay. Thank God, he's okay.
"Gale, I am so sorry." I sit down next to him, holding his hand tightly in both of mine. "We never should've let you go off on your own."
"I wouldn't have listened," he shakes his head.
Truthfully, I knew that, but it's so nice to hear it from his mouth. "Still, I should've tried. We're best… we're best friends," I finish, watching the hurt on his face and hating myself for it. Personal revolution aside, I still don't want to hurt him.
"Yeah," he says. "That's all we're ever gonna be, right?"
I don't know how to respond. "Gale, you're like the other half of me," I say desperately.
"Not the romantic half, though."
"No," I say after a second. "Does this mean… you'll be mad at me forever?"
He closes his eyes, and I panic, wondering if he's passed out. But then he opens them again. "Of course not. I just… I feel like I missed my chance. He stole you right out from under me."
We both cringe at the unintentional innuendo and refuse to acknowledge it. "No, he didn't," I say. "I wasn't yours to steal. You didn't… have a chance."
"Ouch," he sighs. "The whole anger thing was a lot easier when he didn't save my life."
"I've heard that's true across the board," I smile, completely relieved on the inside that we're at least able to joke again.
He smiles a little. "I've missed you," he says after a second. "Not in any weird way, just… you. I've missed you." I frown quizzically, open my mouth to argue. "See, like that, that thing you do when you think I'm being ridiculous. I thought I'd go crazy if I didn't see that again."
"I've missed you," I offer. "You know what I'm thinking before I'm thinking it. Nobody else will ever know me like you do, Gale."
He smiles crookedly, brings my forehead to his lips and kisses me. And I know him so well that I know he's not trying to win me back. "Damn it, Katniss," he sighs again.
"You want me to leave you alone until you figure this all out?" I suggest.
"Nah, I'll deal. It's figured out. You're still my best friend. Sorry I freaked out on you." He's ashamed, and when I see that in his eyes, I finally feel like I know the boy I'm looking at again, the one I grew up with. "I didn't mean it. Any of it. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," I say. Even after all this, all he has to do is look at me and I'll forgive him.
"Not really." He's not going to push it, though, just relieved I'm going to leave this in the past. "Alright. Let me see him. I'll have to get this stupid gratitude out of the way," he says.
I'd be upset, but I know he's mostly joking. "Prim, can you -" I start to ask, looking around the room for her, but she's not there, because she's already coming back with Cato.
"What's up?" he says, doing his best not to be suspicious.
I look at Gale. He grits his teeth, and I know if he could move his arms, he'd be rubbing his eyes right now. "Thank you. For saving my life," he says stiffly. "I owe you one."
Cato almost smiles, tilts his head. "It's fine."
"What's so funny?" Gale sounds sullen.
"Nothing, it's just… you're just like her," Cato says, amused.
Gale and I glance at each other with what I realize is the exact same look. "Is that bad?" Gale asks curiously.
"Hey." I glare. "I'm not the one who randomly attacked someone I didn't know. I'm the one who should be asking if it's a bad thing. So is it?" I turn on Cato.
"I can't…" Suddenly, he looks very nervous. "I don't think I should answer that."
"You can sing," Gale points out. "We're different."
"Have you even tried?" I ask doubtfully.
"No birds quiet down to hear me sing, I'll tell you that," he snorts.
"That happens?" Cato asks me.
"He says so. I don't," I scoff.
"Try it. There's mockingjays outside. We'll hear if they stop singing."
I stare at Gale. "What? No. Why?"
He gives me puppy-dog eyes. "Because I'm hurt, Catnip."
Cato's face is impassive – when I look at him for input, he shrugs. So I narrow my eyes at Gale. "Damn you. Manipulative jerk."
"I'm waiting," he smirks.
So I sing. I choose the Hanging Tree, for its simplicity and slightly rebellious message. I start quietly, but the longer I sing, the more confident I feel. By the end of it, Cato and Gale are both staring at me, and Prim and my mother both have stopped their work to turn and look at me. The mockingjays outside are dead silent.
My mother has tears in her eyes; she turns back to what she's going in an attempt to hide it, but I see anyways. Gale's looking at me in this extremely sad way, almost angry. Cato's face is blank. And Prim just smiles. The mockingjays outside pick up the tune and begin to sing it, voices layering over each other in a hauntingly beautiful way.