A/N: Second to last chapter (not counting the epilogue)! Yay! And it gets even better - since I'm in a creative mood I'll continue writing the next chapter right now and you might get it later that night or tomorrow, so look out for that :) But for now, I hope you'll enjoy this one :)
Chapter 33
The streets of the Capitol are full of frightened people.
A little girl in a yellow coat catches Gale's attention. She must be about Posy's age. The scared look on her face makes him want to vomit.
The Capitol citizens might be dressed up in the most ridiculous fashions and dyed, tattooed and caked with make-up, but their fear is just as human as the District folks'. When the rebels start shooting from the rooftops, trying to take out the Peacekeepers but missing far too often, their blood is just as red.
"We've got to get to Snow," Catnip says firmly through gritted teeth.
Gale nods and looks everywhere but at the little girl in the yellow coat over whose limp, dead body he's stepping.
They are running for their lives. Gale has lost all sense of orientation. His whole world is screaming, bleeding, dying. He shoots reflexively; at everything that comes too close to him, not even making the distinction between Peacekeeper, Capitol citizen and rebel soldier anymore.
His brain if overwhelmed, his animalistic instincts have taken over. All that matters is staying alive, moving on, getting this job done.
They have lost Cressida and Pollux a long time ago. Peeta is nowhere to be seen.
So this story ends just how it began, Gale thinks. Just him and Catnip, just the two of them, having each other's backs until the bitter end.
"Run!" screams Catnip, but it's already too late. The activated pod makes two sides of the street fold down like flaps, slowly but inevitably emptying the people down into whatever lies in that dark abyss.
Gale tries to escape; he really does. But he just can't. He's tired, exhausted, his lungs scream for breath and his muscles ache from running all day. He's a good sprinter, but under those circumstances, it's just not enough.
In the end, only his sheer body height saves him.
When the ground beneath his feet turns more and more downwards into an angle that might become impossible to climb any second, Gale jumps. He wouldn't have made it if he was only an inch shorter. But luckily Gale has inherited his father's statue and while the people to his left and his right lose their balance and fall helplessly screaming to their deaths, his outstretched hands manage to get hold of a decorative railing next to an apartment door. He clings to it for dear life.
Gale hears Catnip screaming his name, just a second before he spots her. She's alive!
When she shoots the apartment door open, he pulls himself up and swings inside. His heart is beating painfully in his chest.
Just when he is about to catch his breath, several pairs of white gloved hands clamp down on him.
He's fighting the Peacekeepers with all he's got, hoping that they might just shoot him to stop his struggles. If they realize who they've captured they won't grant him the mercy of a quick dead, that's for sure. They'll torture him to get information out of him, or maybe just to get back at Catnip; they'll use him against her. Snow will make him suffer, make him pay for what his cousin and the rebels did; and the whole nation will get to enjoy the show.
It's just now that Gale realizes that him and Peeta aren't really that different at heart. Just like the baker, Gale would rather die on his own terms than become a piece in Snow's games.
So when his eyes meet Catnip's he doesn't hesitate one second and mouths: "Shoot me."
But she doesn't. She just stares at him, terrified but motionless. She doesn't understand.
Gale cries out in frustration. Catnip has always been there for him – but now that he really needs her, she isn't. She won't, she can't fulfil his last wish, can't grant him the most important thing he's ever had to ask of her, despite her earlier promise to do so, should the moment of truth come.
As the Peacekeepers drag him into the building, Gale watches Katniss turn her back on him and run away, and he wonders when exactly they have lost the ability to understand each other without words.
They hurt him. Five grown, armed soldiers, taking perverse pleasure out of hurting an injured, exhausted young man who is lying on the floor, kicking his ribs, slamming their fists into his face again and again, spitting at him and hissing obscene insults into his ears until he is close to begging for the salvaging bullet.
When one of them slams Gale's head against the floor a little too hard, he welcomes the darkness that pulls him underneath the surface of his consciousness like an old friend.
Gale doesn't really hear the first explosion, he rather feels it. This is what an earthquake must be like, with plaster crumbling from the walls, windows shattering and the whole building vibrating.
He can hear the voices of his assaulters, numb, as if coming from a distance, although he can see them standing at the window when he manages to open his eyes and focus his blurry vision. They are mumbling something about parachutes, about children and about the President's Mansion. About where Katniss was heading to.
An explosion… parachutes… no…
It can be. Gale's head hurts; he can't think straight, but this is simply impossible!
Beetee's face flashes through Gale's mind, laughing as he told the younger man: "This weapon might just win us the war!"
This very moment, a second explosion sounds through the Capitol and suddenly the building and the surrounding streets are full of rebel soldiers. Gale closes his eyes as his captors are riddled with bullets.
Seems like you were right once again, Beetee…
When Gale wakes up in a hospital bed, the war is already won. He's slept during the victory he fought so hard for. Snow is a prisoner; the remaining Peacekeeper forces are either on the run or surrendered already.
He is relieved when the doctors inform him that Katniss made it; she's injured but alive; just a few rooms down the hall.
They've reached their goal. Finally. This could easily be a happy ending, couldn't it? But of course it isn't. No one ever walks out of a war unharmed.
It's Commander Paylor from District 8 who breaks the devastating news to him. She's probably the last person he'd expected to visit his sickbed – especially since she'd given the impression not to be very fond of Gale the last time she met him. Hearing what he did to the Nut probably didn't help.
Her voice is scarily calm and ice cold when she tells him: "Your bomb has killed at least 47 children under the age of twelve and a yet unaccounted number of first aid forces and innocent bystanders who tried to help, including the Mockingjay's little sister. I hope you're happy now, soldier."
Gale barely makes it out of the bed before his stomach turns and he vomits on the floor.
He doesn't know who actually ordered the use of the bomb when Gale himself asked Beetee to scrap the blueprints.
He doesn't know why Prim was out there in the first place when she was actually too young to be considered a solider.
It doesn't matter.
For the first time in his life, Gale hates himself more than he hates the world.
The room is dark; so dark Gale can barely make out his face in the mirror. Even if it was bright daylight, he probably wouldn't even recognize himself. Back in District 12, a lot of people used to call Gale handsome – now he is everything but that. Pale. Exhausted. Scarred. Broken…
As always in his darkest moments, Gale's family comes to his mind. Somehow he is almost glad his father died that long ago. At least he didn't have to watch his little boy lose all his innocence.
Unable to bear looking at the strange man in the mirror any longer, Gale turns around and grabs a bottle of liquor. Mixing alcohol with morphling is probably a really bad idea, but he is beyond caring. The war is won. The Games are over, the nation will be rebuilt. Gale has served his purpose. Why should he carry on any longer?