"Does your chest hurt?" Mrs. Everdeen asks.
"No," I lie. Only a little. I breathe in as she listens to my lungs with a stethoscope. She has Prim listen, and when I breathe too deep I can't help but cough. I lie back on the couch. Prim looks down my throat with a flashlight.
"I don't see any burns, Mom, but it's really red," she says. I follow Mrs. Everdeen's finger with my eyes. She seems satisfied enough.
"You need to take it easy, but you'll be alright," she says, wiping my face with a washcloth. It's so maternal my skin aches for her touch. My mother never wiped my face. My mother never kissed a scraped knee. My mother doesn't leave her room. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim make me a bed on the couch and finally head upstairs. I get up and make my way to the kitchen.
When I come into the room Katniss is sitting on a stool next to the table. She has Gale's hand in hers as she rubs small circles in his palm. I can feel her worry filling the room like steam from a hot shower. It's as if her thoughts have words of their own.
I did this. I did this. I did this.
She watches him carefully. I watch her. I've never understood Katniss. I think that's because she's never wanted me to. But she's easy to read in this moment. Guilt. Worry. She wanted Gale gone from here, out of the Capitol's reach. She thinks she waited too long.
Gale is in no condition to run. He's in no condition to take our sisters anywhere.
"Hey," a voice comes from behind me. I nearly leap from my skin until I see Peeta with a half-smile. He squeezes my arm before he passes me and enters the kitchen. I watch him kneel in front of Katniss, his fingers gingerly running over her face. They talk for a minute. He gestures toward me with his head and Katniss looks my way before meeting his eyes again. Peeta finally gets her to go upstairs and throws a look to me before following her. When I hear her bedroom door close, I cross to the table. I hover over Gale – watchful, afraid if I breathe to loud I might wake him. Gale sleeps for about an hour before growing restless.
"Hey," I whisper. Gale barely moves his head, but he heard me. The corner of his mouth turns up for a just a second, but even that effort is too much for him and he grits his jaw tight. I grab the stool Katniss has been warming all night and sit beside him. He opens his gray eyes and when they land on my face, I notice a trace of relief.
"Hey," he says back. His voice sounds like his throat is full of gravel. He tries to keep his eyes open but he can't focus on anything. Morphling does that to you. My mother's developed a resistance to it. She needs more and more every time she uses it. A regular dose for her would probably kill me. Sometimes she'll take just a little too much and her eyes will glaze over, her head bobbing like a drunkard in the Hob. That's how Gale looks now, although it's a million times better than how he looked hours ago.
"I understand if you want to run away. They nearly killed you. They would have if Katniss hadn't–" I can't even get the words out. His gaze steadies as he reads my face. "You were right, Gale. You should run."
"Nah. I'm gonna stay here with you and cause all kinds of trouble," he manages, wincing at the chuckle that attempted an appearance. He lets his eyes fall closed again and for a moment I feel like I'm watching a child. He looks peaceful when he's asleep. It's the most peace he'll find anytime soon. The weeks ahead of him will be excruciating. I wait a long time, until his breathing evens out, until he sighs and the worry lines slip from his brow. I take a tentative hand and sweep his hair out of his eyes. It's long. I don't know why he won't let his mom cut it. He hasn't had it trimmed since I moved in next door. Hazelle says it's because he doesn't want me to see him being treated like a little boy. I smirk.
In some ways he's really complicated, and in other ways he's predictable. Proud. Stubborn.
Kind. Thoughtful. Selfless.
I drop down and I kiss his mouth softly. Gale takes a sudden, quick breath and I shoot away from him, nearly knocking over the stool.
"Sorry. Shit. Sorry," I ramble.
I'm about to make a hasty exit when Gale's hand catches my wrist. My eyes shoot back to him. Clearly he's in agony, the movement alone jetting pain through the raw, exposed flesh on his back. He's willing to be in agony if it means I'm nearer to him.
"Don't go," he croaks before his hand slips from mine. He passes out and I'm not sure if it's from the drugs or the torture of reaching for me. Either way, guilt flushes over me. The unconsciousness is only momentary, though. Only a few minutes later and his forehead furls again and Gale presses his face down into the pillow, trying to grunt his way through a wave of pain. I find the stool and stand it up, sitting down beside him.
"As first dates go, I've been on better," Gale's muffled voice comes through the pillow. I can't help it. I laugh. He reaches for my hand and weaves our fingers together, squeezing me so tight I think my bones might break. I just grit and bear it, though, knowing it's nothing compared to the searing feeling running through his flesh.
It takes a while but he finally falls asleep. I don't. My mind is running in circles with the events of the day – what they mean, what's to come. I drift a little here and there. I hear creaking on the stairs and glance over my shoulder. Katniss is perched on the bottom step. She looks terrible. Her face is even more swollen than it was earlier; the lash across her eye looks brutal. She didn't take any of the morphling herself. She wanted to save what she could for Gale. It's no wonder she can't sleep.
"Hey," I say is a rusty whisper. I cough slightly, trying to clear the ashy cobwebs from my throat.
"Hey," Katniss responds, stepping into the kitchen. "How's he doing?" she asks.
"He's been asleep for a few hours now," I answer. Katniss nods and then crosses to the stove. She makes a cup of tea and sets it in front of me. "Thanks," I respond automatically, bringing the steaming mug to my lips. She shouldn't be taking care of me. She should be upstairs nursing her own wounds, but instead her eyes trace the lash marks on Gale's back.
"I'm sorry," Katniss finally says. I'm not sure what she's apologizing for. She saved his life. Maybe she can read the doubt on my face, because she adds, "This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me. Gale would just be a nobody."
"Gale's never wanted to be a nobody," I find myself saying automatically. Katniss takes me in. I don't know Gale, not like she does. She's his best friend, not me. She nods though, like she agrees. I think I made her feel better, even if it's just a little bit.
"Thank you for keeping an eye on him when I can't," Katniss says. I want to tell her she's not doing him any favors telling him to run away, but I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Katniss saw this coming. She saw a fierce reckoning targeted at Gale. She wanted him to run because she wasn't sure she could face this – his being hurt and Katniss perceiving it to be her fault. She wanted everyone she loves safe and gone – Gale, Prim, Posy. I'm not so sure she was wrong, not anymore.
"When did he start in the mines?" I hear her ask quietly, shaking me from my thoughts.
"January," I answer. The first day of the new year. The first day he was eligible.
"What did Hazelle do?" she asks.
"Not much she could do. She wasn't happy," I respond.
I watch Katniss watch Gale. I watch her head grow heavy. She's trying to save the whole world. She's moving too fast to stop and think about herself.
"You should go get some sleep," I say. Peeta must be upstairs. I never saw him come down. Katniss just looks listless. I stand from the stool. "Sit," I order. She takes my seat and I walk outside. I gather some snow from the banking next to her house and add what's left of the antibiotic mixture to it. I come inside and kneel in front of Katniss, pressing the cold snow to her face. She lets out a sigh of relief and her hand comes up and takes over holding the snow. I drop mine to her knee and squeeze. She reaches for my hair and gently tugs until a piece of burnt wood drops into her palm. When I look up her one good eye has welled with water and a single tear drops down her cheek.
Katniss Everdeen doesn't cry.
I'm at a loss.
So we do what the other girls do. What normal girls do. What Katniss and I have never done. We talk. We talk for hours, until the sun creeps its way through the curtains. The two of us talk about anything and everything – our families, the changes in 12, the Seam, the Hawthornes, Mrs. Mellark, Prim's goat, my feeble attempts at hunting, the engagement.
"Can I see it?" I ask. Katniss rolls her eyes and holds out her left hand. The diamond on her finger is stunning. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything so pretty, so shiny and clean and new in my entire life.
"It's an embarrassment," Katniss says. "I keep knocking it on everything. It's completely impractical. How am I supposed to gut a squirrel with this…" She flops her hand around like the weight of the ring is overwhelming. "…This monstrosity on my hand?"
"Peeta never gave me a ring," I tease.
"Take it!" Katniss kids. I laugh with her, but it makes me cough. I know what she's really saying, though. That ring could probably feed the entire Seam for a month. She's ashamed of it. I would be, too.
The sun is barely up when Peeta wakes and comes downstairs. Katniss keeps her back to him, shielding her face from view as he lets her know he's going next door to bake before everyone is up. He kisses her head and slips out into the cold, early morning. I watch his back as he exits through the kitchen door. I watch how Katniss reacts to him. I wonder if he knows she loves him back. I wonder if she knows.
Gale stirs and I immediately move toward him. Katniss watches us with a curious look on her face.
"It comes so easy to you," she says. I want to ask her what she means, but Gale starts to moan. Katniss mixes some sleep syrup and soon Gale is out again. She sits on the floor, bringing her knees to her chest.
We talk for a while about the Capitol. I ask a lot of questions. She tells me about the strange cast of characters – Effie, Cinnia, Portia. I can't keep the names of her prep team straight, or what they do. Flavia, Octavius… someone else.
"Who is on Peeta's prep team?" I ask. Katniss pauses as if stopped mid-thought.
"I don't know their names," she realizes. Katniss leaves to stoke the stove and when she comes back she leans back against the counter. For a while it's the same way it always has been between us. Comfortable silence.
Maybe an hour later, Peeta comes through the door with a basket of muffins in his arms. The smile falls from his face when he sees Katniss. He sets the muffins down and crosses to her. She's sitting on the counter now, and his hips fall between her legs as he runs his fingers carefully over her swollen cheek.
"It's worse. I'm worried it's infected. I'm waking your mother," Peeta insists. She tries to grab his shirt but he slips from her reach and pounds his feet on the stairs. Katniss sighs and rolls her eyes, jumping down from the counter. Mrs. Everdeen orders her to bed, which Katniss ignores.
People are in and out most of the day. Peeta leaves to make his deliveries. Given the circumstances in the district, Peeta may be the only lifeline some families. He doesn't want to leave the house but knows he can't stay. Rye hangs out. I don't really know him and try to make small talk. Rory skipped school and has glued at Gale's side. Haymitch arrives with a package Effie sent via hovercraft. Inside is a single syringe with some kind of miracle cure for Katniss's face.
"No. Give it to Gale," she insists, covering his face with her hands. The crowd of people in the kitchen look at her like she's grown two heads.
"We need to get you in front of the cameras as soon as possible," Haymitch says. "Something light and fluffy. Maybe wedding dress fittings or flowers for Prim or something…"
"I don't care!" she shrieks. "Give it to Gale!"
"There is more going on here than what's right in front of your face, sweetheart," Haymitch says seriously, his voice growing quiet. I don't know what he's talking about but I don't need to know. If dress fittings will please the president, then certainly that will make life in 12 better for the rest of us. I want Gale better, but Katniss has a bigger role to play here, even I know that. She could prevent other beatings, other people from being hurt. People with no support system. Single parents whose children might starve without them. Mrs. Everdeen pulls the liquid into the syringe and Katniss shoots from her seat. Haymitch catches her and she's rabid like a wild animal.
"No! Stop it! No! Give it to Gale!" Katniss claws her fingernails at Haymitch's arms as he drags her backward into the kitchen. She digs her heels into the ground and Haymitch nearly pitches over.
"Come on you," Haymitch roars at Rory, who clearly has no idea what to do. Rory looks at me desperately, frozen in place. Katniss has to know that her face is more important right now than Gale's back. It's what Gale would want, were he conscious. I hate myself as I nod my head to Rory. He steps forward and grabs Katniss's waist.
"Don't you dare touch me!" Katniss howls at him. She slams her elbow back into Haymitch's gut and he doubles over as Katniss drops from his arms. Rory loses his grip and I'm marveling over her sheer strength and willpower. That's when the middle Mellark boy steps forward and pins Katniss almost effortlessly to the ground. She struggles against him, but Rye has been wrestling since he could toddle and is twice her size.
"Do it!" Rye orders firmly, and Mrs. Everdeen injects the needle into her daughter's skin. Katniss's resolve wilts as she sinks into the floor.
"What are you all doing?" We hear a voice from the doorway. Peeta stands at the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes wide as he crosses through the door. He drops his gaze and realizes Rye has Katniss pinned to the floor against her will. Katniss seems groggy as the medicine hits her system. "What the hell?" Peeta roars and he steps forward and throws Rye off Katniss. Rye slams into the wall and collapses to the ground.
"Hey man, you don't understand," Rye starts to explain but Peeta's hand is already balled into a fist. This isn't the peaceful, quiet boy I knew growing up. This is a Victor, reborn in the kiln of an Arena. Peeta just stands there, panting. I watch his chest go up and down and I count the breaths. He knows this is not what Katniss needs right now. It's not who he is. We're all in this fishbowl of hurt and emotion and tension. Finally, he unballs his hand and turns back to Katniss. Already the swelling in her face has gone down dramatically. Peeta drops to his knees as she sits up.
"Are you okay?" he says, so low I can barely hear him. I feel awkward just gawking at the two of them, but everyone else is too.
"Unfortunately," Katniss grumbles. Peeta looks confused but helps Katniss as she forces herself to her feet. She stumbles a little bit, clearly dizzy.
"Did you guys drug her or something?" Peeta asks, disbelief in his voice.
"Hey kid, she pulled the same stunt on you," Haymitch grumbles. It's true. I remember as a nation was glued to the television when Katniss drugged Peeta with sleep syrup and went to the feast for Peeta's medicine. Peeta looks confused, but then his eyes run over her face. She's barely swollen now, although her skin is still red and bruised and raw.
Gale moans and I'm immediately at his side. It's as if the rest of the room slips away. I hear Katniss yelling, pointing at Gale, but eventually the kitchen clears of everyone except Mrs. Everdeen. She injects Gale with more of my mother's morphling and he slips back under.
"When can I bring him home?" I ask.
"Tomorrow, I hope. We need to watch him for infection now," she says. I hear Prim come back downstairs. She was sent to her room during all the commotion. Katniss's mother leaves a sandwich for me on the counter and heads upstairs. Prim hovers over Gale, changing his dressings and cleaning as she goes. She works quietly, sneaking peeks at me every once in a while.
"Can you show me how to do that?" I ask. She nods and I watch her hands then copy her movements. "And how do I make the green stuff?" I follow up. Prim shows me how to make the antibiotic mixture.
"Do you need help with the morphling too?" she asks politely. I shake my head no. That part I've got.
"It was really brave of you, telling Rory to help Haymitch," Prim says, her eyes on the task at hand.
"Not really," I say.
"No it was. We all knew what had to be done. Katniss is just… She would rather suffer than watch someone else go through something awful. She's always been like that. She wasn't thinking clearly. And… it's Gale…" Prim explains.
"Yeah," I whisper, running my thumb over his cheek.
It's Gale.