He gets off work to find that the house is quiet.

Madge has been a little later these past few days but never by much, and with it getting dark earlier she's almost always home before him. There's a stillness to the house that Gale doesn't like, and then he sees her shoes by the door and can't help but worry.

"Madge?" Gale checks the bathroom and the kitchen and finally finds her in the bedroom, curled into a ball under a heaping of blankets. "Madge," he tries again. Gale bends down and taps her shoulder, waiting for her eyes to flutter open, and they do. "Hey," he smiles.

She smiles too, a lazy sleepy smile that is much too sweet for him. "Hi," she murmurs. "Time is it?"

"A little past six, I just got off."

"Oh." Madge yawns and stretches. "Sorry, I meant to start dinner, I just… I had this headache all day and figured I'd lay down for a bit." Gale bends down and presses his lips to her forehead. She's a little warm, but nothing that wouldn't be from her hidden under the blankets. "I'll start now."

"No, it's alright," he brushes her bangs from her face and she smiles again. "You rest. I'll make dinner and wake you when it's ready, okay?" Madge tips her head forward and he lets his fingers linger on her forehead again. No, nothing concerning. She eases back into the covers and is asleep in seconds.

Gale makes dinner quickly and quietly, making sure not to bang any pots around that might incidentally wake Madge. He can't even imagine how tired she must be lately, what with the pregnancy and having to walk into town every day and winter making everything much colder than usual. Not much time passes before the stew he's brewed up is ready, something simple but very warm that should help with her headache.

"Madge," Gale paces back into the bedroom to wake her. This time he finds her still curled into a ball but also with her eyebrows furrowed together as though she's in pain. "Madge, baby," he brushes her bangs from her forehead soothingly, not wanting to shake her awake. "Dinner's ready."

But she doesn't stir.

He watches the blankets rise and fall with her shallow breaths and suddenly panic is coursing through his veins. "Madge," he tries again. This time he does shake her. "Madge, wake up." She shifts a bit and her eyes flutter open before she rolls away from him with a groan. "No," he forces himself away from her and tells himself to breathe.

This is the first symptom of the plague.

How could he have been so stupid? He runs into the kitchen and makes sure the fire is contained before rushing to the door and pulling on his boots and jacket with incredible speed. It takes him no time to run to Prim's and by the time he gets there he's panting and sweating and he doesn't bother knocking.

Prim and Rory are at the kitchen table and they both burst up. "She's got it," Gale croaks. "Madge, she… she told me she had a headache I didn't even think about it and now she won't wake up."

"Does she have the rash yet?" Prim asks, removing herself from the table. Gale shrugs and drags his hands through his hair. "Didn't you check?"

"I panicked!" he rasps. "Prim, you got to do something, you have—" he cuts himself off and breathes deeply. He rests his hands on his face and shakes his head. "Please. Please, Prim, please."

"I'll grab my kit and meet you there," she says, rushing to the bathroom. She freezes halfway, turning to him with a horrified expression on her face. "Gale," she whispers. He can't swallow. "I just remembered, I… I used the last of it."

His voice is weak, "Last of what?" She doesn't answer right away. "Prim, no, no, no…"

"Just yesterday," she murmurs. Prim's hands are visibly shaking. "I… I'll come do what I can but I don't know when the next shipment from the Capitol will get—"

"I hid some," Rory blurts, speaking for the first time since Gale arrived. Prim spins around to face him and Gale's eyes dart to his brother who is looking everywhere but at either of them. "I hid a few bottles of the medicine," he says. "You go now, and I'll come with them."

Prim is so quiet, "Rory?"

"It was a precaution," he says, shaking his head slightly. "I knew you'd never do it but just in case one of us got sick I thought we needed it." Betrayal is plastered all over Prim's face and Rory looks utterly guilty. "Go. I'll bring it."

"Rory," Prim cries.

"Just go! I'm sorry, Prim, but I had to and now it's obviously come in handy so please go wake her!"

Instantly Prim is transformed into the healer Gale knows her as. She retrieves her kit quickly and slides on her shoes and coat and she and Gale run back through the district. Once they reach the house Prim goes straight to the backroom. She pulls out a concoction of herbs while Gale turns Madge so her back is against the mattress.

"Prim," Gale rasps. "The rash…" It's spreading, from Madge's arms up around her chest and onto her cheeks. "How is it spreading so fast?"

"It's always spread that fast," Prim answers. "Gale I need you to hold her like this, okay? She's going to want to go back to sleep but don't let her." Gale jerks his head forward. Madge's eyebrows are still furrowed as if in pain and her breaths are still entirely too shallow.

The front door swings open and Rory calls out, "I got it. Wake her."

Prim waves the concoction of herbs under Madge's nose. It takes a few seconds but Madge finally blinks awake, trying to shift away from the smell and roll back over. "Madge, baby," Gale hates holding her like this. "Madge, look at me."

"Wha—what's going on?" Her body shudders and she tries to roll away again. "I'm so c-cold."

"Shh, I know, Madge I know. I need you to drink something for me okay?"

"No, Gale," she whines and struggles against him. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Prop her up," Prim says. Gale holds Madge's shoulders firmly and shifts her so she's sitting. Madge is still struggling and Gale's doing all that he can to not panic. "Rory, get a glass of water." Before Rory leaves the room he hands Prim the tiny bottles of medicine. "Gale," Prim turns to him. "She's going to try to spit it out. Don't let her. Do you understand?"

He nods unspeaking. Prim uncaps the bottle and pries Madge's mouth open despite the fact that she's still struggling and tips it back, letting the liquid curl down her throat. Gale's hands go straight up to Madge's mouth, holding her chin and plugging her nose so she has no choice but to swallow, but then she's choking and coughing and Prim nods her head, allowing him to let go.

Madge's eyes are hazy and she shoves him away. Rory enters the room again and hands Gale a glass of water, and he quickly moves to give Madge some to drink. She chugs half the glass before giving up and lying back down, curling onto her side and falling asleep again.

Prim digs through her kit and pulls out a jar of cream, extending it over to Gale. "Have you done this before?" she asks. Gale tips his head forward, he had to put the cream all over all three of his siblings when they were younger. "Good, you'll need to—" the front door swings open and all three awake people in the room jump. Madge remains unmoving.

There's a pounding of footsteps. "Gale?"

"Thom?" he calls back, surprised to hear the voice of his friend. "What—" all three rush out of the room and find him standing there, sweating. "What's going on?"

"Bristel's having her baby," he pants. His eyes dart toward Prim. "Went to find you guys and you weren't home. Took a leap of faith came here." His eyes dart between them. "What's wrong?"

"Madge's got the plague," Gale croaks. "Prim, you've got to go with Thom."

"But Madge—" she protests.

"Gale," Thom shakes his head. "I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine, just go, Prim!"

"I'll stay," Rory says to his wife. "I've learned a lot from you. Go." Prim nods, thrusting the container of cream back at Gale before darting off with Thom. "You know what to do?" Rory asks, turning to his brother. "Once an hour until the rash clears."

"I know," Gale nods. "Wait out here."

Gale returns to the bedroom where Madge's breathing has not changed. It takes a while for him to peel the blankets from her, and then get her out of her clothes while leaving on her underclothes to properly apply the cream, but in time he's got her body covered in the stuff. Gale lays the blankets back over her and nearly whimpers at the sight of her. Madge's face is the only visible part of her body and it's coated in green goo.

He leaves the room and returns to Rory, finding his brother manning a pot by the fire. "For a warm rag," Rory says. "To wipe the old cream off and put the new on."

"Thanks," Gale exhales. He sinks into a chair at the kitchen table. "I did everything I could," he whispers.

"Don't beat yourself up about this, Gale," Rory scolds him. "Madge grew up in town, you had to have known that she would be more likely to get it considering she didn't when she was a kid." Of course Gale knew Madge's chances were increased but that didn't mean he didn't try to stop it. "She'll be okay. Give her a few days to recover and she'll be back as new."

Gale drops his head into his hands and rubs at his temples. "I should've been more prepared," he croaks.

"Gale," Rory whines. "Stop that."

"I should've had medicine here and been ready for when it hit."

"But you weren't," Rory says, "and that's okay. Madge is strong, she'll be fine."

Gale lifts his head. "What if you hadn't hid that medicine?" he wonders aloud. "What if there was nothing we could've done but wait for the Capitol to send stuff—and there's never a guarantee that they will!"

"But I did hide the medicine," Rory says quietly, "and we don't have to wait. At least not for Madge. Okay? Gale, please stop making this worse than it is."

Gale's eyes find his brother; he stands tall but looks tired. "Thank you," Gale finally whispers. Rory's shoulders lift slightly. "No, for all of it, Rory. Hiding the medicine and staying back here with me."

"You're my brother," Rory responds. "You looked after me when I was a kid, give someone else a turn for once."

Gale has pulled a kitchen chair into the bedroom so he can stay by Madge's side. He knows that once someone catches the plague once the chance of them catching it again is slim to none, but he isn't going to risk crawling into bed alongside her. His hand is holding hers tightly and his head is lowered. Gale drifts in and out of sleep.

There's a tapping on his shoulder, "Hey." Gale jolts awake and finds Rory with a hot rag. "It's been an hour," his brother says.

"Thanks," Gale rasps.

He takes the rag from Rory and the younger leaves. Gale turns to his wife and starts gently rubbing the cream from her face, smiling when he realizes the rash has mostly vanished. He carefully brushes her bangs from her face and makes sure to get all of the green goo. By the time he gets to her neck Madge stirs a bit. He doesn't expect her to talk, but she does.

"Gale?"

"Hey, baby," he murmurs. She blinks a few times and squints. "Hey, you're okay."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," he whispers. "You're just a little sick, that's all."

"I feel funny," she tells him before coughing a few times. He winces. "My stomach… it doesn't feel right." Gale lifts the rag to her cheek and she leans into it. "That's nice," Madge sighs. "I'm so cold. How sick am I?"

"Don't worry about it," Gale reassures her. "Prim's got it all taken care of, okay?" Madge nods a few times and blinks, sinking back onto the mattress. "I'm going to wipe the rest of the cream off now, okay?" Again, she nods. "Get some sleep for me."

Madge nods her head again and continues to blink, her vision clearly blurry as she focuses in and out on things here and there. Gale peels the covers down and rubs the cream from her chest, is hasn't spread past her stomach, and off of her arms.

"Gale?" she says again. He looks at her, his heart twisting at the sight of Madge with her hair sprawled out and greasy. "Am I dying?"

"No, Madge," he shakes his head and returns to cup her cheeks. "No. You're fine."

She may be sick but she's not stupid, Madge must've known right away that she caught the plague. It's running rampant throughout the Seam. "You said people die from this," Madge coughs.

"Not you," he says. His voice is shaking along with her body. "You're going to be fine. We've already given you the medicine that will help, but you've got to stay in bed for a while, okay?" Again she nods. "I love you," Gale whispers. "You know that, right?"

"I love you," she echoes tiredly. "So much. I'll get better, I promise."

"Hey," his fingers curl through her hair, "this isn't your fault." She falls back asleep before she can respond.

After applying another coating of the green cream, Gale forces himself out of the room. He can't be in there staring at her like that, he just can't. It isn't until a few moments after he sits down and Rory starts cleaning the rag, readying another, that the front door opens.

Prim strolls in visibly tired but with a gentle smile. Gale turns to her and she shrugs, her smile widening.

"It's a healthy baby boy," Prim says. "They named him Jackson." Gale can't help but smile too, happiness for Bristel and Thom at their new child, and then he laughs. "All ten fingers and all ten toes. He's a crier, definitely."

Rory lowers the rag into the sink and crosses to his wife, pulling her into his arms and cupping her cheeks before delivering a quick kiss. "You're incredible," Rory whispers to her. Prim rolls her eyes but stretches up to kiss him again anyway. Clearly Prim is too tired to be angry at Rory for hiding the medicine.

"How's Madge?" Prim asks when she parts from her husband.

"Gale's been applying the cream," Rory tells her. "The rash is going down significantly. A few more applications and it should be gone."

"That's great," Madge nods. She turns to Gale who's zoning out, staring at the flames in the fireplace. "Gale?" she asks. He doesn't turn his head. "Are you okay?"

"Madge is pregnant," he whispers. Only now has the thought really occurred to him, in the middle of all of this. She's with child. The room falls silent, no one dares to move. He'd been too caught up in Madge that he hadn't even been thinking of the baby. "What's going to happen?"

"I honestly don't know," Prim answers. Gale tilts his head to look at her. "If the baby survives there are bound to be some complications, that's what illness does to a developing fetus."

Gale tries to swallow but his throat is sticky. "If the baby survives?"

"It might not survive at all," Prim says softly. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Prim and Rory leave, much to Gale's request, and he returns to sitting in the chair by Madge's bedside. Every hour he'll wake himself up and clear her skin of the green cream, only to reapply it again. After a few hours the rash is gone completely but Gale can't force himself to go to bed.

He watches the still shallow rise and fall of her chest, presses his hands to her cheeks and finds them warm, cringes when she stirs just so she can cough. He knows the next stage of the plague and he's not ready for it, he doesn't want to be, but it's bound to happen.

First is the headache and being unable to wake the person who is sick, then comes the rash. After that there's violent coughing (in severe cases there will be blood, but Madge has looked okay so far) and vomiting. The puking is next. He forces himself to his feet and stumbles into the kitchen to get a bucket she can hurl in. As he's digging through the cabinets he hears a quiet knock on the door.

Confused and exhausted Gale commands himself to answer it, not even knowing what time it is, and is surprised to find his mother at the door. She smiles sweetly before entering without a word.

"Ma?"

"Rory came and got me after he left," she says. His mother rests her hand on his shoulder. "You need to get some sleep, Gale."

"I've got to stay with her," he rasps. Hazelle reaches down and pulls his hands into her. "Ma, I can't sleep," he protests. "She, Madge, I've got…"

"Gale," she whispers. "You need to sleep so you can go to work. I've brought all my children through the plague and my husband as well, I know how to take care of her. I'll sit with Madge, you rest up. That's what she would want."

Gale stares at his mother for a few minutes before nodding his head forward. He doesn't even remember eating anything tonight. "I was getting a bucket," he tells her, after clearing his throat. Hazelle nods, squeezes his hands, and sends him off to the couch. "Ma—"

"Just try and sleep," Hazelle says. "I promise I'll take care of her."

He's too tired to protest. Gale kisses his mother on the cheek before retiring to the couch.

Gale wakes up to the sound of Madge throwing up into a bucket. He swallows back a groan and rubs his temples, knowing work today is going to be a nightmare. Not only did he hardly sleep but he's going to spend so much time worrying over Madge he'll hardly meet his quota.

He only dips into the bedroom to get his work clothes and Madge has her face in a bucket when he sneaks in. Hazelle looks up at him and offers a tired, gentle smile. She coaxes Madge out of the bucket with a promise of a glass of water, and then dips out of the room to get the drink.

Madge lifts her face from the bucket and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Gale slings his work clothes over his shoulder so he can change in the bathroom but quickly walks over to where his mother had been. Madge doesn't even try to smile.

"This is the worst," she croaks.

"I know," he whispers back. "I'm sorry." Madge coughs a few times and leans into the bucket as though she's going to vomit again, but she doesn't. "I've got to go to work. Ma's gonna take care of you though, alright?"

"I know," Madge nods. Her eyes are rimmed with pink, her voice is rough. Now she smiles. "I love you."

"I love you more," he whispers back. He would stay with her if he could, but his mother and Madge wouldn't allow it. Gale dips down and presses his lips to her forehead.

"Ugh," Madge nudges his chest away and frowns. "I smell weird and have been puking for hours," she murmurs.

Gale chuckles and shakes his head, "You're still beautiful." Madge wrinkles her nose at him and he laughs again. "I'll be home the second my shift is over, okay?" She tips her head forward and tightens her hands around the bucket. "It's going to suck but you'll be okay." Again she nods, though her eyebrows furrow.

"I just feel… funny," she says. "I don't know. I'll survive."

"Damn right you will," Gale nods. He kisses her forehead again, whispering his love for her before going off to change for work.

A/N: You knew someone was bound to get sick with the plague going around. Followup on that next chapter. Thoughts? Reviews always appreciated!