Chapter Twenty Nine
AN: I had to go back and make a few tiny edits in the last chapter to help my plot along. Most significant of which is this Katniss telling Gale, "I just didn't think...you wouldn't want other girls to think you were with me..." when they are talking about what people thought they were doing in the forest.
Also, I know a couple people have commented about how my Gale hasn't seen the Games. I guess I'm confusing the movie and the book (it's been awhile since I've read the book, I'm afraid.) I know in the film he was out in the wild, trying to avoid watching it. Just for clarification, my Gale did the same. He of course, saw parts of it, but tried to avoid watching all of it.
As always, reviews very much appreciated.
Gale doesn't talk much for the rest of the evening. He insists we get as far away from the water source as possible before making camp. We walk well on into the dark. There's a cold northern wind carrying the remainder of winter, and I suggest we make a fire.
"Shouldn't risk it. Someone could see us." I nod because he's right. Too dangerous since we don't know who is around, how many, or why. So I tuck my legs up under my chin and make my body into a ball as I try to stay warm, and Gale sets up the tent.
Gale partitions some of the bread Brillow gave us, some dried meat, and a very small cup of water. I didn't realize until I see it how thirsty I am. We huddle close and eat our small meal. Both of us are used to the hunger. Food was often in short supply back home in Twelve, but never water.
"My first few days in the Games, I didn't have much water…" I let the sentence hang in the air.
"I remember."
"You saw that part?"
"I couldn't avoid the Games entirely, even if I wanted to."
"It was bad."
"We'll find some water tomorrow." He's trying to reassure me. But that's not exactly what I'm after.
"It's okay," I say, almost offhandedly, "Thirst was hardly the worst part of the Games." Our eyes catch for a moment. He's not sure where I'm going with this. To be honest, I'm not either. But for some reason, start telling him things. All sorts of things. I don't know why; I guess now, maybe I think he'll understand. I tell him about massacre at the Cornucopia. About the fire, and the parachute, and getting chased up the tree. I tell him about the Careers, and the trackerjackers, and Rue. I start crying when I think of Rue. I tell him about blowing up the food pyramid, and about the boy who killed Rue. About the boy I killed. About how there are nights when I wake up and don't think I'll ever be able to wash their blood from my hands. I tell him about finding Peeta. About drugging him and sneaking out to get his medicine. I tell him about the notes Haymitch sent me, and the rules changing, about the mutts attacking and about killing Cato. I tell him about the rules changing again, and I tell him about the berries.
Gale sits and listens, he doesn't say a thing, as I finish my story. He waits for me to be done, and it appears I am because I can't think of anything else to say. He's silent as he considers.
"Do you think you would have eaten the berries?"
"I don't know," I tell him honestly, "maybe. I was so tired and exhausted and drained from the Games, in that moment, I just wanted them so desperately to be over, I very well might have...But I also promised Prim I'd come home…But, I guess, Peeta would have taken care of her, if he won…And you too…" I meet his eyes. Perhaps that sounds too much like a question.
Gale shakes his head as I say that. "You know I would have," he says with something sad in his eyes.
I look over at him, uncertain. Not that I don't believe him, but I know there is something going on that I don't understand.
"Katniss, do you sometimes wish that you had taken those berries?"
"Yes," I answer too quickly, and Gale looks worried. "Not too often anymore, but I did a lot, especially at the beginning."
"I'm glad you didn't."
"I know." It's the only thing I can think to say. I lay down because I want to do something, and it's the only thing I can do in this tiny, stupid tent. Gale follows. I can feel him next to me, eyes on me. "You really won't have any regrets about killing those two men today?"
"I'm not saying that it was easy, or that I enjoyed it, Katniss. You can go ahead and think it's sad if you want, but know it was also necessary. It had to be done. Those two men signed up to wear that uniform. They knew the risks that went along with it. And they knew what wearing it meant." I feel his eyes on me and roll on my side to look into them because I'm not sure what he means. "It meant that it was their job to kill us." That is true. "I'm certain they would have done it, and I'm not going to regret stopping them."
I search his gray eyes, trying to figure out if he means this, and I think he does. I wish I knew how. I must stare at him for quite some time, because he finally asks me, "what are you thinking about, Catnip?"
"You need to shave," I tell him because I'm not sure what's going on inside my head, and it's the first thing that comes into my mind.
Gale takes his hand and rubs his chin, "yeah, I guess I do. It comes in a lot thicker and quicker than it used to…"
I nod to show I'm listening as I wonder what happened to those children who met in the woods so many years ago. The scrawny, spiny girl who thought she had so much to prove. The boy who was taller than he should have been, stronger than he knew he was, and who hungered for so much from this world…
I know I'm not that same girl. And it's foolish of me to try and hold on to that boy. He's gone too. Or maybe not gone, but changed. It's not just age that has transformed them. But life. I guess there is no stopping that, and I wonder if I want to as I look at my best friend….I try to find the boy that I know so well in the dark features that lie before me. But the person next to me is no boy. It's more than just the shadow of a beard that has changed him. Its hardship and sacrifice and hunger for something more from this life. He's a man now. And I don't mean just his body. Or his age. But in every sense of the word. And I realize, as I look at him succumbing to sleep, that I'm jealous. Not of what he is but that he is. That he knows it and respects it and is certain. It's been a long time since I've been certain about anything, least of all myself.
It's time I moved on and changed too….for a long time, I thought that the best was to cope with the horror of the Hunger Games was to try and go back to before they ever happened, try and recapture the girl that I once was, the life I once had. That if I could find her again and hold on, maybe I'd be able to get through this. But there is no use trying to go back. That life in gone now, there is no place for that girl. And for the first time I realize that even if I could return, maybe I don't want to. Maybe it's time for me to move on, grow up, and embrace the things that have happened to me and try to find a way to be better for it. Like Gale does. I'm not sure how exactly to do this. Part of me wants to curl up next to Gale and find comfort in his strong arms. But that's something that the old Katniss would do.
"What's wrong, Katniss?" he mumbles from behind closed eyes.
"I'm just so – so uncertain…"
"About what?"
"Everything."
He does something like a nod and reaches out and takes my hand. "Just try and find one thing you know for sure, one thing you're certain of, and try and hold on to that tonight."
I squeeze his hand thankfully and am silent for minutes as I think.
"You," I barely whisper, not knowing if he is still awake to hear. "The only thing I'm certain of in this world is you, Gale, I don't know what I'd do without you."
And for the first time, looking at my best friend in the dark, I wish he would do more than just hold me to get me through the night.
