A/N: Updated 25.02.19. Thank you so much to wickedclownsmile and Bellum Gerere for reading through this chapter!

Chapter 25 - You Can Be My Father

See the fish swimmin' upstream
Back to the hills
Want no part in the whale watch
If you couldn't tell
My lover ain't quite right
But my lover is childlike
She don't care for country
In her tatters and rags
As the band plays the anthem
She whispers, "God hates flags"

The Low Anthem, "Lover Is Childlike"

I remember holding my baby sister for the first time. She was so small, a helpless little bundle. She can't have been more than half an hour old, but my mother lay her in my arms with the greatest trust. She knew I would keep her safe. She knew I would care for her. Protect her.

When Posy was three, she wondered why she didn't have a father when all the other kids in the street had one. It took me by surprise, and I didn't know what to say. Even as young as she was, I think she could sense my hesitation and uncertainty. Before I could answer, she said with a big smile, "It doesn't matter. You can be my father. Can't you Gale?" Her childish glee and her innocent view of the world's cruelty made me smile back, ruffle her hair, and agree that of course I could be her daddy if she wanted me to be.

Maybe half a year, later Posy walked into my room while Katniss and I were laying casually on my bed. At that point, we were only two friends hanging out; there wasn't anything romantic about our relationship, at least not on Katniss's part. Posy stopped in the doorway and eyed the two of us suspiciously. "I already have a mother, but since Gale's my daddy, you could be my second mother if you want to." She said it loud and clear while eyeing Katniss as if she had given her the best gift ever. I looked at Katniss, mouth hanging open while her cheeks slowly flushed with embarrassment…or was it something else? I hurriedly got to my feet and rushed Posy firm but friendly out of the room. Katniss was looking at her hands, the blush still showing on her face. I cracked a joke about kids and younger siblings that made her laugh a little, but it was tense between us for the rest of the day. I never dared to ask if it was the thought of the two of us being together as a couple or the thought of her being a mother that was the most unsettling about Posy's declaration that day.

Even if I only was fourteen years old when Posy was born, I knew from the first time I held her in my arms I wanted to have kids of my own one day. Katniss, on the other hand, has never wanted kids. She's always been clear on that. Even if I do understand her motivation for not wanting children of her own, I've always had a hope she would change her mind, and that one day we would have children together.

But now is not the time for a baby. I know it's not. And the knowledge that she is expecting our child is scary as hell. Nevertheless, a very, very small part of me can't help but feel excited and gleeful about the thought of the growing life inside Katniss's belly.

I'm alone in my room. It's dark outside and it must be well past midnight, but sleep won't come. I give up after an hour of tossing and turning in bed and get up, dress, and light a small candle. If it hadn't been for the curfew I would have been out by now, wandering the streets, maybe even going beyond the fence to walk at the edge of the forest. Instead, I find a pair of old trousers that needs repairing, and get to work in the dim light from the candle. It's not my favorite activity, but it's far better than doing nothing.

I remember meeting Prim on my way over to Katniss after work earlier that day, and we walked the last stretch together. I no longer remember what we talked about, but I do remember the unsettling feeling I got when we reached their house. I knew something had happened. I would never have guessed what, though.

I remember Katniss confessing that she'd murdered a man. I was shocked – speechless, my mind desperately trying to figure out why. Even if I have seen Katniss kill before, she wouldn't do it without a reason.

I remember her telling me she was pregnant.

I think I surprised both Katniss and myself with my reaction. I could see in her eyes that she expected me to be angry, and to some degree, I am. I'm furious about the hopeless situation we're in. I'm furious with the Capitol for being a threat to Katniss and our child. But even stronger than fury is the feeling of shock and confusion, sadness fighting with a small exited part of my brain, and above all, protectiveness.

In a way, I've always felt protective of Katniss, since the first time I caught her studying my snare. I know she doesn't want my protection. I know she's strong and stubborn. I'm the same. She would never take any more than her share of what we brought home for the day, no matter how bad the situation was at home, and neither would I. I can't count all the nights I've gone to bed without eating because that meant that my brothers and sister got to eat something, and I know Katniss has done the same just as many times.

But now it isn't just her I need to protect anymore.

I come back to reality when I hear light steps from another room of the house. I look up from the trousers, now free from holes, in my lap. The candle is almost burnt down, and a ray of morning light is slipping in through the curtains.

I curse. Candles aren't cheap. I've also been sitting up the whole night, and now I can look forward to a day in the mines without having slept at all.

The steps I heard stop, and soon after my mother peeps into my room.

"Gale?"

"Yes?" She takes my answer as an invitation for her to step fully into the small room. The room isn't big, and she's so close I can reach out and touch her. She stands there for a moment, looking me over.

"Gale? Haven't you slept at all?"

I just shake my head. She narrows her eyes at me, but doesn't scold. She rarely does. After my father died, I had to grow up fast. She's treated me more like an adult than a child since then.

"What's wrong?"

And that's it. I break down and start to cry. Between sobs and gasps, I desperately try to calm down. Just like my mother, I never cry. I didn't cry when my father died. I didn't cry when Katniss was reaped. I didn't cry when she came home. I don't cry. I always find other ways to channel my feelings. I distract myself by keeping my family alive and fed. But now I cry.

My mother doesn't say anything. She just closes the small space between us and wraps me in her arms. I can't remember the last time she held me like that.

"Katniss is pregnant," I manage to cough out after a while. It feels good to tell someone. But Katniss' pregnancy, as hopeless as it is, isn't the worst part; it's the other things she told me that really bother me.

After Katniss confessed her pregnancy yesterday, it was like all her preservation, all her reluctance towards me just crumbled to dust. Everything she hadn't told me spilled out of her in one long sobbing monologue. I knew something was off. I knew there was something she wasn't telling me. But I would never have guessed what.

I've never before wanted to hurt someone so bad as I want to hurt Snow now that Katniss has told me what he plans to do.

I want to kill him. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and watch him gasp for air. I want him to tear at my hands and fight to get loose, but I will smile as his movements becomes weaker and weaker. I want to feel his body's final convulsions before becoming limp under my hands, and there would be no more President Snow.

"Katniss isn't here. She's over at Haymitch's place." I'm at Katniss's home in the Victors' Village. My head is spinning, and I'm dead tired after a long day in the mines with no sleep all night. But I have to see Katniss. Have to make sure she's all right.

"You go look for her there," her mother tells me with a pat on my back, as if she has read my mind. I smile before heading out the door again.

Haymitch's front door is standing ajar, like someone entered in a hurry and didn't bother to close it behind them. I push it open with my foot. I'm about to call out when I hear voices from the kitchen, and I drift towards the sound.

"Yes, Districts Eight and Eleven have been since the Games, and Four followed a few weeks ago. Others might follow soon. If you're going, this is your chance. They don't have time to watch every single victor; they're focusing on the ones inside the storm."

It's Haymitch who's speaking, but I'm not sure what he's talking about. What's up in Eight, Eleven and Four?

"Do you think that's the reason no one's here arresting me for murder? I bet all the houses here are bugged and monitored."

"Ah, not every one. I cleared mine years ago; they didn't bother to travel all the way to do anything about it. I'm no threat, I'm just the example to new Victors like yourself. Don't step out of line or you'll end up like old Abernathy over there; drunken and alone." Haymitch chuckles as if he's told a joke, but Katniss doesn't laugh. Haymitch falls silent and, after a few seconds, talks in a much more serious voice. "But you're probably right. I don't think anybody is watching you right now, and it's because of that your insane plan might work. They would have caught you hours after you went missing if it hadn't been for more pressing matters."

I'm confused. The conversation doesn't make sense at all. The Victors stepping out of line? If Katniss went missing? Is she planning on disappearing—without telling me?

It's silent for a while, and I'm about to make my presence known when suddenly Haymitch starts to speak again.

"Katniss. I don't like to lay this on you, but the revolution could really use your help. We try to muster as many of the Victors as possible. If it hadn't been for Finnick and Everett, the people in Four wouldn't be fighting right now. People look up to you. They'll follow you."

Katniss doesn't answer, or maybe she doesn't get the chance to because I can't just stand there listening anymore. Revolution! Finally! This is what we've been waiting for. This is what we've been whispering about, but never dared to say aloud.

I burst into the kitchen, startling both Haymitch and Katniss.

"I want to fight!" I declare in a firm voice.

"Gale?" Katniss looks shocked and unhappy to see me.

Haymitch is also looking less than pleased to see me. "And who invited you to the party?" he sneers, sending me a disapproving look.

I don't care. I'm to excited. Waves of pure energy run through my body, when moments ago I was so tired I wanted to sleep for weeks. Now I'm bursting with fighting spirit, and the need to run out the door to fight the first Capitol sympathizer I can find.

Revolution! This could be the end of it all. This could mean the fall of the Capitol. No more suppression. No more slaving in the mines. No more starvation. No more threats. And no more Hunger Games.

Katniss could be free from the Capitol. Our child could grow up without fear of being reaped.

Our child? This brings me down to earth again.

"But Katniss, you can't fight! You're pregnant! I won't let y…" I stop myself halfway through the sentence when I see the angry flicker in Katniss' eyes.

"Gale Hawthorne! You have no right to tell me what I can or can't do. I'm sick and tired of it." She's angry. "And this was exactly why I didn't want you to find out about the uprisings. Not yet, at least. I knew you would lose your head and storm all the way to Eight on foot to throw yourself into the fights."

I can't help but grin sheepishly at her words. Some of the fire burning through my body is calming. She's right, of course. I would have been halfway to District Eight already had it not been for the baby. That's what's calmed me down enough to think.

"And don't you smile at me." Katniss is, if possible, even more furious. I wipe the smile off my face at once.

"Katniss, I…"

"No! You keep your mouth shut. I talk; you listen! Understand?" I just nod.

Katniss breathes in and out a few times before settling down in her chair again.

"I'm not going to fight…" She sighs, but after a break adds "yet. Not now, but…I'm leaving the District, like we always talked about, and I want you to come with me. You, Prim, mother, your family. I've talked to Haymitch and this is our best chance. Because of the uprisings in the other Districts, the Capitol won't be as watchful. We can slip away without them noticing, and if they notice, they'll have things to worry about besides a missing Victor."

I'm about to protest. We can't just run away from everything, we have to stay and fight. What about the children? The old, the sick, all the people we would be leaving behind to die, just to save our own skins. Katniss lifts a hand to silence me and keeps on talking as if she has read my mind.

"We're not going to just run away. We will go into the woods, as far as we have to, but no further. We will set up camp and we will take care of the people Haymitch sees the need to get out of the District. We know we can't save many, but we can get some of them out. Children, pregnant…"

Pregnant…I know what's behind her words.

"I will deliver the baby and will make sure he or she is fine, and then…and then we can both go back. The uprisings have just started. It will take months to win the Districts, and after that, it's the Capitol…the war won't be over in a day, Gale." She's looking at me with pleading eyes. "Maybe we'll be back just in time to take down the Capitol itself. To take down Snow."