A/N: Double Posting!
The whip cracks across my back in outlandish patterns. Each time the whip hits my bare skin, I grit my teeth. The pain is unbearable but I refuse to scream. He wants me to scream and I refuse to get him that satisfaction. I will not leave these people in horror of their government, even if I should. They shouldn't be afraid of their government, and that's why I don't scream.
Another snap of the whip as it grinds into my skin. My pressed lips break apart as a gasp forces its way out. It's loud enough for him to hear because he chuckles menacingly and I can imagine that awful smile spread across his pale skin, pulling his cheeks up and baring his pure white teeth to everyone.
The next clash of the whip is harder. Fourteen, I think darkly. I whimper in pain. There's a burning behind my eyes as my eyes water from the intense pain. The more noise I make the more people that come over to look.
By the 15th one I want to curl up and die. I figure I will die. God, how many more, I whimper in my head. No one told me how many and all I want to do is scream at them to do something. My knees are going weak and my hands are the only thing holding me up anymore. My knees wobble underneath me and when that 16th one lashes across my skin my knee give up and it clips into my head. A whoosh of lightheadedness overcomes me. The people in front of me look blurry and out of focus.
The 17th one is the one I give up on. I scream so loud that my throat is raw from it. If I could see the inside of my throat I could swear it was bleeding. My scream echoes through the square. I don't even have the dignity or strength to lift my head up to look up at the onlookers. Tears sting my eyes as they slowly display my pain. I glance up at through my heavy eyelashes and I caught a glimpse of gold. Beautiful, lovely gold. But I can't dwell on it too long because too soon does the pain override my system again. My knees give out completely and I'm severely hanging from my wrist. The rope tied to my wrist dig, deeply, into them. With each lash of the whip another scream tears through my throat, ripping through the square like a bullet.
All at once I lost control over my body. Black washes over my vision around 24 and my head rolled back. I stare blankly at Thread. I can't even comprehend that I need to move my head or it will be in the way of the whip. The whip narrowly misses my forehead; instead it curls around my left shoulder, leaving a deep gash overflowing with deep crimson blood. I don't scream this time but I do close my eyes. Another Peacekeeper comes and roughly shoves my head back in place, cradled by my chest. The Peacekeepers says something like I'm sorry and it sounds almost exactly like Darius, but I can't tell because blackness is starting to shallow me whole.
I know that exact moment my wrists tear open to bloody gashes. And that's the 27th lash. The pain is double because now the rope is rubbing into an already raw wound and the whip is beating raw skin into blood pulp.
I lose track of how many times the whip hits my skin. I lose track of what number I am on the scale of 1 – 10 of pain. I lose track of how many people I've counted in the front row. I lose track of how many eyes and ears I have. Blood rushes to head to try and save me. I release a puff of air that was supposed to be a bark of laughter. I know it's too late to save me.
Tears still burn down my cheek every so often and a headache is aching my head. Around 30, or at least I think it's 30, do I lose consciousness. I've never realized how fantastic unconsciousness could feel. The pain is dulled into the background. I expect to see blinding, white light but I don't. All I see is a dull, dark gray. I feel like I'm in a room with no doors or windows. But it's like I'm in the void. I don't even know how to describe it.
But almost immediately does the gray turn to black like before and I can't hear or feel anything. My last thought is roughly: Is this what death is? Is this what it feels like to die? And then that glimpse of gold from before flashes momentarily through my mind and I can scarcely feel a smile pulling at my lips. Madge.
…
The first time I woke up there was a buzzing in my ears and too many loud voices. I close my eyes quickly to try and block out the sounds. The pain in my back is too much and I slip easily into the void again.
…
The second time I wake up, I'm arching my back off the table in pain. My arms and legs are wobbly and the fire in my back is burning to death. I feel hands gently stroke my arms and legs back into place. Again, the pain is too much.
…
The third time I wake something so cold lands unceremoniously on my back. Another one plops right next to it and so on until my whole back is covered with it. A sigh escapes my throat and for once the pain is slightly dulled again. I slip into a restless but semi-peacefully sleep.
…
The fourth time is the hardest time. I want to give up so much. A scream pierces the room and I know it's mine but the sound of it and more importantly the aching in my throat. I idly wonder if I'm screaming in my sleep.
A warm, liquid substance seeps into my veins seconds after a door slams shut or open, I don't know. It's a delicious feeling. It instantly starts soothing the pain in my back and the liquid feels so good going in that I can't help but relax a little. Someone's cold hands land on my shoulders.
"Shh." Someone says. "Shh, you'll be okay, love." I can't determine if it's a female or male voice but I don't really care. If it's a male than it has to be Haymitch or Peeta and that'd just be weird. I hope it's not one of my brothers. I would hope my mother, if she's even here and I hope she is, wouldn't bring them. God I hope my mother is here. I don't want to die and be alone. I want my mother here to comfort me and hold me through the pain, as childish as that sounds. I want someone from my family here, I think weakly. I don't want to be alone. Even if I'm not alone in retrospect.
Someone's hands are in hair before I'm out. And I love the feeling. It soothes me into a more peacefully sleep, well as peacefully as burning in hell can be in. And I wonder why I haven't died yet. Why would God want to save me?
…
I don't wake up for hours. I know this because the room is darker and there is less people milling around.
What I do wake up too is soft kisses being placed all over my exposed face. My head is being caressed by soft, strawberry smelling hands.
"You need to shave." The voice says as their fingers run my chin lovingly. Their fingers slip up my cheek and across my jaw and under it. Suddenly a soft, slightly wet kiss is placed under my chin. The person inhales deeply like they're taking in my scent but I can guarantee you it spell like rust and metal instead of pine, smoke, and oranges.
"Don't die on me, Hawthorne."
That is, of course, the moment my body can't keep my eyes closed anymore. The medicine must have worn off because the pain comes back with it. I take a deep breath, gently curling into myself before forcing myself to look towards the mystery voice.
"Madge." I croak. "Madge." I comes out a little more forceful this time.
"Gale!" she gasps, both her hands grabbing my face as tears spring to her eyes. She's crying almost instantaneously. "Gale, oh god, Gale I love you so much!" she's crying and heaving for breath immediately.
But I ignore that.
My chest fills with warmth and it's taking over my whole body. My back burns a little bit more but I push aside the aching pain that wants me to die from it. I place my hands on the countertop, my fingers gently curling over the edge.
"Gale, stop, you need to careful, you need to rest." Her hands are trying to get mine to rest but I have a mission and I will not be told to evacuate.
I push my aching muscles up a little bit more and stretch my neck out. I plant my lips sloppily on hers. My lips start to drag down hers because my arms are giving out from all the weight. She grabs my face and neck to keep me up as she indulges in my lips, and I in hers.
I have never felt anything so powerful before in my life than in this moment. The warmth I was speaking of earlier wasn't warmth, it was love. It was everlasting love that made my fingers and toes curl in delight. It made my core twist painfully and let out an army of butterflies in my stomach. It was joyful and amazing and so ridiculously stupid, but I grasp onto it with everything I have as our lips move perfectly in unison like never before.
She breaks away too soon and I'm selfishly chasing after them for more. She laughs quietly before giving me what I want. Her lips our rough on mine and it's beautiful in its own little way. This is the pain I like, the pain I will endure for more. This is the love I would kill for. Madge is mine, and I am hers and there's nothing you can do about it.
"I love you." My voice comes out hoarse and breathless. My eyes burn into hers and I hope to dear God that it conveys how much I love her. I don't want to hold back anymore. I don't want to leave her or her, me. I need her. I love her. She is now my whole world and I will happily surrender to her reign.
She helps to gently lower me to the countertop again. Her hands stay on my face and gently rub up and down my 5 o'clock shadow.
Someone clears their throat and walks into the kitchen. Madge's eyes don't leave mine and hands still on my face. Mrs. Everdeen looks at my face for a few minutes trying to decide whether or not to give me whatever she gave me earlier. She looks at my face trying to decide if the redness of my face is because of what Madge and I just indulged in or from the pain.
The second my mind thinks the word pain the pain instantly overrides my system and I feel my muscles tighten again. I drop my eyes from both of theirs and I feel ashamed to be in so much pain and show it.
Madge rubs my shoulders and whispers that it's okay but it doesn't lessen the guilt I feel. Mrs. Everdeen hands over the syringe to Madge when she sticks her hand out. Madge raises an eyebrow high on her forehead to silently ask if I trust her enough to inject me with what looks to be morphine. I nod weakly; I look away as the needle is inserted into my vein.
The world slips away from me once again.
…
It's like that for a few days. In and out, in and out of consciousness. Madge never left my side after I freaked out when she wasn't there once because she was in the bathroom. Madge, Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, and my mom have basically got it down on point to how long the medicine works on me at what level of dosage. So Madge now knows when and when not she can leave me.
I realize I'm being clingy but I've missed Madge greatly in our separation. And death has brought us closer. I know how close I was to death and I don't want to go back there. But Madge is here now and that's all I can focus on. She makes me feel safe and alive and I'm never giving that up. She was everything and nothing, but now she is everything and mine and always will be.
I love her and I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I need her and she knows that. I just hope that when I get better that my heart won't be shattered into a million pieces again. Those jagged shards were sanded down by the hand that broke them and everyone knows that same hand can break it again.
The only problem was...how was I going to tell Sarah I was switching sides again...