Reminiscing Reality
(Gale/Madge)

It was Gale's 36th birthday and it was raining. Luckily – or unluckily – he was sitting in his grand office at work and out of the rain. Gale was editor-in-chief of District 2's Monumental Newspaper. He had one of his best columnist's article sitting in front of him with a red pen in his left hand. He doesn't know why, but he's utterly unfocused today, everything seems to have an interesting sparkle to it or was that there before look to it. He found himself looking out of the glass wall of his office out at the rain and the dark skies. There was something different about today, something he couldn't put his finger on.

Huffing and tugging on his ebony locks, he grumbles to himself to focus. He places his line of sight on the papers in front of him and begins making tiny corrections here and there that was missed in the columnist's editing stage. The article was a good one, it was about the up and coming 15th Anniversary of the war. It shined light on the new developments with other nations and once again thanked the brave soldiers for their time. With the anniversary coming up in a week, everyone has been brought Gale gifts of gratitude for his service. He was flattered that these people cared about him and was grateful for his time, but it was unnecessary.

Gale knew he was being a little glum about the whole thing, which is why he kept it to himself, but the accomplishments of the war couldn't bring back what (more like who) he lost. And no, he wasn't talking about Katniss Everdeen. No, there used to be a blonde girl that was as radiant as the sun.

God! Huffing angrily, Gale scribbles out of the sun he drew on the paper. As radiant as the sun, really Gale? What are you, 12?

There was a knock on Gale's door. "It's open!" he yelled. A group of his employees stood on the threshold, not quite crossing it, with huge grins on their faces. The one in the center was holding a large vase of multicolored daisies.

"We brought you gifts!" they yelled and sat the vase on his desk. "And now we're going to take you out to lunch!"

"Oh no, you don't have to do that!" his ears were red, he could feel it. He gripped his red pen in his hand. Why does he always push away affection?

"Too bad, you're going!" they grabbed his arm and pulled his coat over his shoulders. They pulled him out of his office and down the stairs. Aw, they took the stairs for him! He heart swells a little.

…

At least it had stopped raining when they walked over. Now, the sun was high in the sky and the clouds were boisterous blue. They were all laughing as they walked out of the small diner a few minutes away from their office building.

There was blonde girl walking over to them, a look of fiery determination plastered on her face. The second she started talking to Gale they all moved a little ways ahead of the pair. Gale knew they were eavesdropping, they clearly weren't out of ear shot.

"I knew you once." A blonde girl, young and beautiful, and so completely familiar said. He couldn't put his finger on, that part of her that reminded him of someone. She had her hand, all slim fingers and cold to the touch, resting familiarly against his arm. The odd thing about this, and the part of that scared Gale the most, was that it felt normal and right. He, too, felt like he knew her, but he did not. He would've most definitely remembered a face like that and she was far too young for him.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you must be mistaken. I've never seen you a day in my life." He states quietly. She gives him a questioning look, and even he finds himself raking his brain for something, even the smallest bit that he knows her. He didn't find anything, causing a frown to grip his lips.

"No, sir, I know you." Her hand tightens on his forearm, her cold fingers leaching all the warmth out of his arm. He looks at her hand, so delicate and fragile, a pianist hand. His heart squeezes painfully at the memory of a loved one he wishes he didn't remember, someone whose hand looked exactly like that, someone whose hands touched him in a way that had Gale's head spinning.

Gale clears his throat and forces his eyes back up to the girl's powerful blue ones. "I –" but she doesn't let him finish.

"Gale – "

"How do you know my name?" he asks, startled. His eyes widen and his heart beats a little faster in his chest. The way she says his name made him what to throw up. This girl…she is…no, he can't go there. He can't.

"Gale," her hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into it stupidly. God, no one has touched him like this in over a decade, not after her. Gale was an untouchable thing after her, so fragile and broken that he was like a glass tower that got demolished. No one wanted to be a part of that, "I can prove it."

"Then do." he whispers, his chest is so tight he felt like he can't breathe.

"In District 12, out in the woods, we made love for the first time. You were gentle and kept asking me if everything was alright," she laughs a little, "You looked so worried. You tried to hide it, you did, but your eyes gave you away. Afterwards, we lay in the high grass, wrapped around one another, as you whispered me stories about the constellations. You told me you loved me that night."

"Anyone could know that…" he was bewildered, but he almost felt like she was telling the truth. "Anyone could have told you that."

"But you know, you believe, that was me." Her other hand comes up to rest against his cheek, drawling him ever so closer, "Gale, it's me."

Was it real or was he reminiscing his reality?

They stare at one another for a long moment. Gale's eyes flicker over every inch of her face. Yes, he recognizes her now. She still had that small waist and slim hips, her bottom lip was slightly bigger than her upper one, and she smells the same. But…Madge…would be 32 now, and this girl doesn't look a day over 19.

He shakes his head and begins to repel, "No, no, you're young."

She draws him closer than ever, "I know it's hard to believe, but I was reincarnated."

"No!" he knows he must be ghostly white by now, he has to be. This was just too much. "Are you…are you her, uh, our child?" a long pause… "She had a kid? She was pregnant?" he mutters his breath.

"No, I'm Madge. You have to believe me." He does…but he doesn't. He wants this to be real, he wants this to be real so bad it hurt him physically.

A little too loudly, "You have a scar on your butt that gets red when you shower! I told you it looked a cigarette once!" her eyes were desperate. His employees laughed a little. God, now they're all imagining the scar or his butt.

"I-uh-I'm-uh…I"

She grasps his shirt lapels and pulls him infinitely closer. Her lips, that tasted and felt the same as they did 19 years ago, were on his lips, moving in sync with his again. He felt a jolt of electricity run to his stomach like lightning like he always did when he kissed her. Gale has kissed many women who looked similar to Madge since the war, but no one felt like this. No one felt like his Madge.

He was on the brink of insanity. He has to be to believe this young girl was his Madge, the one from the woods and the shower and the late nights in her bed when he crawled through her window to see her. The one that his mother swore at him was bad news, that it was too much of a risk to take. The one that made Gale feel human and normal. The one that lite Gale's skin on fire when she touched him, even if she didn't mean too. The one that made his heart beat a little faster and his thoughts and actions become less coherent and his hands a little more adventurous. This can't be her, but it felt some much like her that he was slowly believing the one thing that couldn't be true. This was Madge Undersee in his arms.

The peanut gallery cheers a little. Gale ignores them. All he could focus on was Madge's lips moving in time with his. Every sense revolves around her and he couldn't find it in himself to gain control again. She is here and she is his and that's all that matters.

When they break away, chests heaving together, Gale smiles. The peanut gallery goes nuts again and he almost flipped them off, but that would mean taking his hands off Madge. And to be honest, he was afraid if he let her go again she would never come back.

"Do you believe me?"

He shrugs for old time's sake. Madge swats his chest.

"I love you." She whisperes, Gale doesn't say it back. He's not sure if he really fully believes yet. She leans in close to him, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke, "Meet me here later without the peanut gallery." He nods and unwillingly pulls himself away from her.

The peanut gallery did not shut up all the way back to the office. They asked who was the young chick he was "seeing?" They taunt him about the major PDA exhibit he put on for everyone to see.

"For 34, you still got it, boss!" his best columnist slaps him on the shoulder.

"Hey, I always had it!"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say boss."

…

After he gets back to work, Gale feels out of place, like he watching his life from an observation deck. Everything seems so out of place and disoriented, like he's drunk and get see straight. And, Christ, if he touches his lips one more time, Gale's gonna cut them off! It was like he was teenager again with his first love: Oh God, I just kissed her and I'm so happy and blah, blah, blah, let me touch my lips a thousand times like "did this really happen?" To say in the least, Gale was disgusted with himself.

Before he knows it, his hand is coming down on the phone receiver and he's dialing a number he hasn't dialed in years. To be honest, he's not sure he has ever dialed this number.

She picks up on the first ring.

"Hello?" she asks. Katniss Everdeen sounds like she always has, confident but unsure about everything.

"Hey," he breathes out, "It's me, Gale."

"Hawthorne!?" she blurts out.

"How many Gale's do you know? Of course, Hawthorne!"

There is silence. No one speaks a word for a long moment, both taking in the moment they both never though was going to happen.

"Why are you calling?" Katniss whispers.

And Gale finds himself whispering too, "I'm confused…and scared I'm going insane."

She snorts and laughs for a moment, "Gale, you've always been a little insane. What's bothering you?"

"I think I saw Madge Undersee this afternoon…and I think I might have kissed her."

Dead. Silence. He's beginning to think she hung up on him.

"Kat?" he asks cautiously.

"You mean the Madge Undersee? Like Mayor Undersee's daughter?"

Gale suddenly feels small and has the strong urge to hang the phone up. This is all a dream, he decides. He must have just fallen asleep at his desk and this is all a dream…But the flowers are still on his desk, mocking him. "Yes." He whispers.

She sucks in a large breath and he imagines her closing her eyes, just like he's doing now.

"She's been dead for years, Gale. 15 years now."

"I know." He whispers again. His stomach is dropping and he feels sick to his stomach. He also feels the grief of her death surfacing again, something he's buries so deep in his heart he doesn't even know how to find it. He never really had to the time to grieve and now as not the time to do it, but that sickening feeling was there again. Gale hates that feeling. He had felt it for months after her death and the only thing that cleared his head was that metal gun in his hand. That's why he got so mentally attached to the war. Now, there was no gun, just a plastic red pen and a phone receiver in his hand.

After a long silence, she finally asks, "Are you sure?"

He sniffles loudly. Was he really getting emotional over this after 15 years?

"She said she's Madge. God," he screams, gripping his hair with so much force it hurt, "she doesn't even look a day over 19. She's Madge though, she's…she's reincarnated or something she said. Katniss," he whines, desperation high in his voice, "Katniss, please tell me what to do."

"Do you believe her?"

He's taken aback by her statement. Does he believe the chick? Yes, absolutely. But is she even real? He has no idea anymore what's real and what's not. He feels like hijacked Peeta.

But when he answers, his heart doesn't have a question in the world, "Yes."

"Then believe it." She sounds more confident then she gives herself credit for. Back in 12, she was leaning against the wall like life got too heavy for her to carry on her shoulders.

"But what do you think?"

"Gale," she sighs, closing her eyes, "if you believe, I believe it."

"Okay." He says and Katniss hangs up the phone.

…

After work, Gale finds himself watching back to the place he saw Madge earlier. And, without a doubt, there was she was, leaning against the lamppost. She smiles broadly at him, all teeth, and he finds himself grinning back. She must notice that something is off, because he grabs both his hands instead of pulling him in for a hug and a kiss. She squeezes his sweaty hands tightly and nods toward the restaurant Gale ate lunch at.

"I know you already ate there today, but I'm starving. Do you mind eating there again?"

He shakes his head, "No, I don't mind at all." She pulls him off toward the restaurant.

…

Gale doesn't know how he could let himself be so stupid. And damn was he stupid. He lays back with his head against the black silk of his pillow, his ebony hair spread out and lost in the sea of darkness. He was sweaty and naked and has Madge curled into his side. Earlier, he was questioning his sanity. Now he slept with her and can tell you one thing: he's definitely insane and his definitely stupid.

But it felt right. It did. It felt like all those years ago in the woods. Sparks were flying, the deed was gone, and the chemistry building each time they touched. It was mind blowing and perfect. And he is definitely sure this is Madge Undersee now. She still has the scar above her belly button from that time she nicked herself with one of Gale's hunting knives.

"You know that scar on your butt?"

"Mmmhmm." He glances down at her to look at her while she speaks and his fingers tangle into the mess that is her hair.

"Still looks like a cigarette." He chuckles and shakes his head, gluing his eyes to the ceiling.

They lay in silence for a long time and Gale enjoys the peaceful, comfortable silence that fills the air. Everything is where it was supposed to be, he feels grounded for the first time in a long time. And that thrill, the buzzing under his skin, was back. He feels good.

"Gale?"

"Yes?"

"Would you have married me back in District 12?"

"No."

She climbs on top of his chest, her hips positioned over his stomach, "And why's that?"

Gale laughs again, "Ha, the peacekeepers would probably think it was false and your dad would have probably thought it was cheating you somehow, blackmailing you."

"My father liked you, admire you even." Gale shakes his head, "Really, he did. He still would."

"Mmm," he hums, "Maybe someday then."

And someday it was.