Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Expression
AN: Follow up to Mirrors and Reflection, the Madge in Thirteen story.
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Madge knows the minute Birdy arrives, with a dozen former Peacekeepers and a handful of Victors like herself, that things are about to change for her.
She's known about the mission to the Capitol for a while. Gale hadn't told her, and neither had Katniss, she rarely saw either of them. Katniss was in training, for the push on the Capitol, and Gale wasn't speaking to her. She isn't sure if it's because he still hasn't made up his mind, or if his silence is her answer.
"Oh, Magdalene," Birdy sighed when Madge told her about Gale and Katniss and her. She looked genuinely sorry. "I warned you that boy was trouble. A broken heart is the worst kind of hurt there is."
Madge only nodded at that.
They sat in the apartment, sipping weak tea and eating stale crackers for nearly half an hour before Madge finally broke the silence.
"Why are you here?" Birdy had already told Madge she didn't trust Thirteen, and judging by the chilly reception she and the others had received, Thirteen didn't trust her much either. Her being there was an enigma.
Birdy simply shrugged. "I'm here because the Rebellion is here. Our darling Mockingjay is here."
She laughed when she noticed the look of complete disbelief and disgust on Madge's face.
"Alright," she flopped back on the couch and tossed the last of her cracker onto the scratched coffee table, "I'm here because I have information. My group and I are going to be part of the final push on the Capitol. We're the covert part, the part that actually has a chance at doing something."
Madge frowned. "Are you working with Gale and Katniss' squad?"
"You're joking, right?" Birdy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Us? Part of the Glamour Squad? I don't think so."
Madge watched her twirl her teacup in her hands, staring down at the final few drops as she thought.
"They're going in for looks. Sending the 'photo fodder' in just to get some good promotional shots. It'll be impossible for them to keep from the fighting completely, but I don't doubt they'll try." She smiled coolly. "Dorothy won't be so thrilled with his assignment once he figures out he's just a pretty face in their little story."
Madge didn't doubt that. Gale was burning to take his revenge against the Capitol for all it had taken from him.
His father, his childhood, his home.
When he found out he was nothing more to Thirteen than a handsome face to be shown in propos he would be furious.
"How are you enjoying the 'Lost District'?" Birdy asked suddenly, dark eyes focused on Madge.
Though Madge didn't say anything, her face must've given away her dislike of her new residence.
It was cold and dark and inhospitable. Madge had never been exactly the outdoors type, but being trapped in the catacombs of Thirteen had made her crave the sunlight. She missed her garden, with colorful vegetables and fragrant flowers. Thirteen's gardens, with their dull pickings and dry dirt, was nothing more than a bitter reminder of what was missing.
Birdy laughed. "Well, if that's how you feel then I've got a real treat for you..."
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Gale catches her as she's packing her things.
There isn't much, a few gray colored pillowcase dresses, skirts and tops, and her underwear, and she honestly considers leaving them, but changes her mind when one of Birdy's friends, a dark skinned girl with a head-full of braids, says something about using the cloth for blankets.
"For under the saddles," she explained.
Madge hadn't really understood what she meant, but nodded anyway.
As she finishes carefully folding the last dress, stuffing it in the ragged looking bag Thirteen supplied her, there's a knock at the door.
With a sigh, she goes to the door, hesitantly opening it and peeking out.
Gale is there, standing in his fatigues. He's a little sweaty, and she assumes he's just finished his training for the day.
"You're leaving?" He asks, before she even has the door opened all the way.
There's a hint of urgency in his voice, a flicker of panic in his eyes as they scan over her, assuring himself she's still there.
Opening the door the rest of the way, Madge crosses her arms and nods.
"Why?" His voice is harsh, a little demanding. "Where are you going?"
Irritation flares in her chest. He's spent weeks ignoring her, making up his mind or not Madge doesn't know, but know he shows up with questions, looking as though he's the injured party in the relationship.
"Away," Madge tells him coldly.
She starts to close the door in his face, but he catches it with his hand. Madge gives him a narrow look. "I've got packing to do."
Her mother is hopeless at it and Madge would rather gather up her things while she's out.
"Madge," his voice is strained, "please."
He has no right to any answers from her. She should be able to pack her things up and leave anytime she wants.
That's exactly what she is doing.
Still, his eyes are on her, pleading, and some stupid part of her that can't deny him anything ignites. Annoyed with herself, Madge opens the door and waves him in.
As small as the apartment is, Gale fills it. He stands in the center of the tiny living area, running his hands through his hair and eyeing Madge's bag, thrown carelessly on the ground by the door. For a second he seems confused, then drops down onto the threadbare couch.
"My brothers told me," he finally says, as if she'd asked the question.
Madge nods. She'd said her goodbyes to the Hawthornes earlier in the evening, then Prim and Mrs. Everdeen, before heading back to pack while her mother was eating with Mr. Abernathy.
"I wish you would come with us, love," her mother had sighed when Madge had turned down the offer to come to dinner with them. "We won't see Haymitch for so long once we go."
"You'll see me sooner than you think," Mr. Abernathy had quickly told her.
He at least seemed to understand Madge's need for some quiet time. Some alone time.
Now, looking at Gale sitting in front of her, she wishes she'd have gone.
"Where are you going?" Gale finally asks again.
"West," Madge answers simply.
His eyes light in irritation. "Where?"
Pressing her fingers to her temples, Madge groans. "What does it matter, Gale? I'll be gone. Isn't that what you wanted? Simple. Easy. Just you and Katniss."
Madge wouldn't be a problem for him anymore. Nothing more than a ghost in his past.
"That isn't what I wanted," he says softly, not even looking at her.
"Are you sure? Because you haven't so much as looked at me in weeks and now it's vitally important for you to talk to me?"
Tears start to build up in her eyes and she swats them away. She won't cry for him, over him, not again.
"I…" Gale finally looks up, a pained expression on his face. He's at a loss for words.
He finally gets up, runs his hand over his face again before letting it settle at the junction of neck and shoulder, massaging it slowly while he closes his eyes so tightly Madge is sure he'll see stars.
Finally, he opens his eyes, letting them settle on her.
For a few minutes he just stares at her, eyes traveling from the top of her head down to her feet and back up, then he sighs.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry for taking so long, for waiting. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm just sorry."
As annoyed with him as she is, with how things have turned out, she knows he means it.
Gale isn't purposefully cruel. He's a bit thoughtless at times, too quick to act on the anger that's burned in him for years, but she knows that, given time and thought, he wouldn't hurt her or anyone else.
But he is hurting her, and himself.
"Gale," Madge finally says, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I know."
Even if she hates it, she'll always find a way to understand him. It's a curse.
Before she knows what he's doing, he's put his arms around her, pulled her into a crushing hug.
The tears that had been building in her eyes finally slip out, soaking his shirt. She hears him making a soft noise, a shushing sound as he weaves his fingers through her hair soothingly. It only makes her cry harder.
She has to go. There's no place for her here, in Thirteen. They don't trust her and she doesn't trust them. She can't spend the foreseeable future digging lumpy potatoes from the dry earth.
Gale has his fights and she has hers. They may not be as exciting or visible, but they're what she can do.
"I have to go," she manages to tell him, her voice wet and stuttered. She's been part of the background for too long. Even if going with Birdy and her friends won't put her in the spotlight like Gale and Katniss, it's an active part of the fight. It's doing something more than gardening.
His cheek comes to rest against her head and she feels him nod. "I know."
They stay like that, Gale wrapped around her, face buried in her hair and his warm breath ghosting over her scalp, for several minutes before he pulls back.
She barely has time to register what's happening when his lips are on hers.
It isn't like their last kiss, fevered and needful, but soft and hesitant. His hands, calloused and rough, cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheeks.
The sweat from his training his clinging to his lips, salty and stinging. There are hints of tomatoes on his breath and the dull spices they use in on the meats, probably his lunch. It's intoxicating.
When they break apart they're both breathless. Madge's hands are fisted in his shirt, refusing to let him back away, though with his hands somehow having gotten tangled in her hair, he's made escaping a little more difficult for himself.
He presses his forehead to hers and when she looks up, for the first time Madge sees his eyes shine.
"Katniss needs me right now," he says, his hot breath washing over her. "I can't leave this."
He doesn't say it, but she knows what he's telling her.
He chooses her. He chooses Madge.
Katniss is the one that needs him at the moment, she's his friend and he won't abandon her-and Madge wouldn't want him to-but Madge is the one he's going to come back to. She's choosing to go off and fight the Capitol in her own way; he understands that, he isn't holding that against her, because that's what he's doing.
They're more alike than they'd ever really realized.
"What took you so long?" Madge finally asks him, voice just above a whisper. She needs to know, even if it hurts.
He closes his eyes, and when they open she spots tears clinging to his long eyelashes. "I didn't know how to let go. I held on for so long, I thought Katniss was my future, and…I don't know-I was confused. I knew what I wanted-you-but…"
His eyes close again and he swallows, his voice a little less thick when he speaks again.
"I'm sorry it took me so long and that I waited until you're packed and leaving. I'm sorry I messed up."
Madge pops up on her toes, pulls him down to her level and presses a kiss to his lips.
They still have a long way to go, she knows that, but every relationship has a beginning. Rocky as theirs has been, she knows that if they were able to get past this, they can get past anything.
"I'll be in Two," she tells him softly, letting her lips graze his as she breathes out the words, savoring every last second of contact she can get.
"I'll be there as soon as I can," he says with a small smile. "The minute this is over."
It's such a hopeful thought, that all the suffering they've gone through will be over, transformed into something good and safe and happy, that she can't help but smile back. It isn't the change she'd expected when Birdy had arrived, not really, but it's definitely a welcome one.
His hands untangle from her hair and drop down to her waist, pulling her flush against him as he dips again, catches her lips once more.
The kiss, which quickly escalates to Gale pressing Madge roughly against the wall beside the bedroom door, isn't hesitant in the least. The needfulness is back, the hunger and fire. Gale's hands burn on her skin where they graze and grip at the narrow band of flesh that gets exposed when her shirt rides up from her plain skirt.
She wonders if her touch stings his skin too.