Warning if there's not things that are canon I left the books at my apartment, and didn't want to wait until after break to update. Also, I'm lazy.

Enjoy!

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Chapter Twenty-Six

They warned her, but the warnings fell on deaf ears. Things never turned out the way you imagine them anyway. They're either worse than you imagined, as was the case at the moment or they are a lot better than you imagined, which is what she had hoped for. She hadn't imagined it would look like this. The Seam was still on fire, she assumed to make sure everyone in the district was taken care of. The fire lit the sky, burning a hell of a lot brighter than the sun. The flames that had burned the Town had long since stopped, but that was most likely because it had burned first; the reason why so many of its inhabitants hadn't made it out other than herself and Delly Cartwright.

District Thirteen had given her a pair of boots for this excursion, but they were promptly due for returning as soon as she arrived. She cursed the stupid district. It was like Soviet Russia in there.

Even with the smoke-filled air, it felt better to be breathing the air of the fallen district than what the recycled air in that hole in the ground that was better suited for a mole.

She had been standing in front of the dilapidated mayor's mansion for the last fifteen minutes, the remains of her home. Now she was homeless, as were all the refugees of District Twelve. They were all in pain, some more than others. On her worst days, she lashed out at Gale when he expressed his pain for the loss of his home, at least he had his family. She had nothing, had no one. The thoughts were on replay in her mind when the darkness within her felt like it could swallow her whole.

Vaguely, she could feel a hand on her shoulder, most likely Gale's, but she shrugged it off when she stepped forward.

Her breathing was ragged and it was worrying him. Maybe this was too much for her. Too much too soon. His hand dropped from its place on her shoulder.

She turned, eyeing him. "I'm going to go in." He walked toward her, following, but she stuck out her hand, stopping him. "Alone." He could see his own reflection in her dull blue eyes. He looked hurt and shocked. She answered before he could reply. "There are some adventures we have to face on our own. This is mine. You can't protect me from everything and everyone. I've told you that before."

He hung his head. "I know, I just- I love you and I want to be there for you all the time, even when you don't want me to."

She nodded, stepping over rubble to reach him. She wrapped her arms around his middle. Murmurs escaped her mouth and vibrated through his thin jacket into his chest. "I'm strong though, right?" The much smaller girl looked up at him, eyes imploring.

He nodded. "The strongest, but the strongest people can admit when they need someone by their side. It doesn't make you any less strong."

Madge backed away from him, allowing herself to look into his eyes. "I need to do this for myself and by myself."

Gale watched as she raised herself onto her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaned into him. He braced himself for what was to follow. "You are my strength, my love." She whispered the words against his mouth, you're your strength- it follows me everywhere I go."

"But I can go. You just won't let me. Please let me go."

She smiled. "I'll be okay."

He nodded, pressing his lips to hers. "I'll be here if you need me."

"Five minutes." She put up her hand in emphasis, "just five minutes," pointing to each and every finger, "my sentry." She said it with such adoration.

"Sentry?" Gale asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"My guard, always watching out for me."

He grinned down at her, picking her up in his arms. "Oh yes. I'll always watch out for my princess." He placed her on the ground. "Now you have five minutes, your highness," he said, slapping her on her backside, sending her on her way. The sooner she went in, the sooner she came out.

Madge treaded slowly through the rubble and burned remains of her house. It looked nothing like the building that made up most of her memories. Everything charred, like many of the dishes she attempted to cook as a young girl.

She just needed to see it. There was nothing to salvage, she knew that much.

Her piano, her getaway, her source of escape was in a pile of ashes and rubble now. All of the memories attached to it rushed to her, her mother, on her good days, sitting with her, listening and softly humming to the music, her father listening as she practiced her scales each morning before school as he read the Capitol-sent newspapers, Connor, who loved to hear any music that came out of her. These were the people she had lost, some of the people she had loved the most. Gone.

She took her time walking out, despite the fact that she had gone over her five minutes. Gale had his back to her when she exited her, well it wasn't exactly her home anymore, when she exited her past home, that sounded okay to her. Madge hugged him from behind, resting her head against the hard planes that made up his back. He was shaking, his head hung low. She moved to face him.

"Gale, what's wrong?" Tears were brimming his eyes, and his body was shaking, as if the act of fighting tears took the effort of his entire body. His eyes looked off into the distance, toward the Seam, most of the already worn houses were in ashes, the bomb's fires finding anything and everything to devour in the district, mostly the abandoned hopes and dreams of its citizens.

"Just look," his eyes flickered toward the fires, "Look at what they did to us, to our homes, our people, our memories." He embraced her, burying his face in her neck, "what they almost did to you."

Madge rubbed his back, gently, making sure not to disturb the old wounds. She could feel the bumps made by the scars.

Gale took a few minutes, holding her tightly to him. He knew he was selfish, but the most upsetting idea was that Madge could've been here, buried underneath rubble, burned alive. The true girl on fire.

He couldn't lose her. She was everything to him. In his nightmares, she did die, and he watched her house burn to the ground and he spent he'd spend his entire life trying to find a way to get her out and he failed each and every time. Then he'd spend the rest of the nightmare living without her, dying a bachelor, alone. No one could fill the void her death would cause. He knew that. She was the only one for him, his soulmate.

It wasn't only about her though. They took the last physical remains of his father, all burned away. He could no longer look at the home he had shared with his father before he passed, or step into the woods, repeating the actions his father had taught him in order to survive and provide for their family. They had taken that from him long before the bombing.

It was just like before, they took and took until there was nothing left.

"Gale?" He heard her soft voice whisper. He moved away from her, taking her in, from her blonde hair thrown up in a ponytail to her soot covered clothing, so pain-stakingly beautiful. "We have to get out of here." He nodded, grabbing her hand.

They walked toward the Everdeen's. Katniss was outside and it didn't look like she had taken a step inside the pristine house. They all knew it was done on purpose, to drive the point straight into Katniss's heart. This is your fault, your doing.

Madge dropped Gale's hand, taking a step toward Katniss. She knew the quiet girl wasn't much for physical contact, but at this particular moment Madge didn't care she looked like she needed it. Madge wrapped her arms around her. Katniss stilled, before relenting to the embrace.

"Just go in, grab what you need and we can go back. We can go in with you."

Katniss nodded and the trio entered the immaculate victor's mansion. The brunette made a beeline to retrieve her father's hunting jacket, beaten and well-loved. Madge grabbed Gale's hand, knowing the action reminded him that their was nothing left behind for him to bring back other than memories.

Madge heard a scuffling in the adjoining room and left the two best friends behind to see what it was. Behind a table, a semi-orange ball of fur was curled into itself. From her few trips to the Everdeen's Madge knew the animal to belong to Prim.

"Buttercup," she called out, ducking down to the cat's level. She was sure the youngest Everdeen would want their cat back. The cat, for looking like a rabid animal, was surprisingly affectionate, almost leaping into the blonde's arms. Maybe she was reminded of her rightful owner.

She entered the room, and noticed that no one in the foyer anymore. Voices echoed through the house, coming from the kitchen. Madge stepped through, on the brink of yelling who she had found, but stopped herself, noticing the tense environment.

A single red rose was on the kitchen table. It looked unnaturally bright, as if it were the only object in color surrounded by a monochromatic world.

Gale's hand was on Katniss's shoulder.

It was a sign.

Madge almost expected a note attached. "We have Peeta, do not fuck with us," from President Snow, with a flourished signature.

There they went again, taking and taking.

kind of at a block. next chapter suggestions?