Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
AN: A silly follow up for the Kaleidoscope series. Enjoy, if anyone is still reading.
Kaleidoscope, pt 7
Gale feels his back pop as he shifts in the bed.
Madge curls tighter to him and sighs, her warm breath ghosting over his skin, sending a pleasant shiver up his back.
He should get up, the weather is perfect for hunting, crisp and cool. His snares are probably full, and he's seen several bushes of blackberries heavy and waiting to be picked. If he trades right, he might be able to get some butter and flour, then they'll be able to have a cobbler for dessert.
Despite his mind telling him to get up, the sun will rise soon and burn off the morning, his body refuses to budge. It's too comfortable where it is.
As if punctuating the desirability of his current situation, Madge's smooth leg winds around his and he knows he isn't going to make it out before the sun is well in the sky.
Rolling, he pins Madge under him and presses a few lazy kisses to her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair for a few seconds before pulling back.
Blinking slowly, Madge's pale lips quirk up, into a sleepy smile.
"Happy Birthday," she murmurs.
Grinning back, Gale catches her lips, lets his whole body press to hers and enjoy the feeling of her worn nightgown against his skin.
His hands have just barely wandered down her body, begun inching up her thigh, bunching her nightgown up as he goes, when he hears the tell-tale pounding of bare feet running down the hall outside their bedroom door.
Gale barely has time to roll off his wife, help her straighten her gown, when the door flies open and the kids pour in.
Briar is the first on the bed, leaping wildly up and tumbling into Gale's lap.
"Happy Birthday, dad!" She shouts, flinging her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You should shave."
Chuckling, Gale presses a scratchy kiss to her forehead. "Thanks, beautiful."
Looking past her, he sees Miles struggling up the foot of the bed, but before Gale can help him Daisy has come up behind her younger brother and clumsily hoisted him up by the back of his pants.
"Thank'y, Dais," he shouts at her before his short legs stumble across the bed and he flops onto Gale, taking his face in his inexplicably sticky hands and grinning. "Daddy! Happy Bir'day! You old!"
"Yeah!" Daisy yells, landing with a plop beside him. "Happy Birthday!"
A final pair of feet pad in, and Gale laughs as he sees Sage lugging a still soundly sleeping Wren through the doorway.
"She was awake," he grumbles as Madge crawls across the bed and takes her youngest daughter from him.
"It's early," Madge reminds him, laughing when Wren grunts in her sleep, her eyes opening enough to shoot her brother a nasty glare before nodding off again.
Still looking thoroughly put out, Sage huffs before lunging onto the bed, nearly bouncing Daisy off and into the wall.
"Happy Birthday! Sorry, Daisy."
Daisy mutters an 'Is okay' before snuggling tightly into Gale's side.
Gale wraps an arm around her, protecting her from her siblings wild flailing.
She's his easiest child, definitely his calmest, even if she was the definition of a surprise.
They'd had no plans for any kids past Briar and Sage, their birth was traumatic enough for a few lifetimes.
For four years Gale had been almost religiously careful, he wasn't about to put Madge at risk again.
Then Thom had announced Bristol was pregnant, after what felt like a lifetime of trying, and insisted on a party.
"It's for my baby!" He'd drunkenly shouted, shoving a sticky cup of home brew into Gale's hand as he and Madge arrived after dropping the kids off at their Grammy's house.
So Gale had drank, and drank, and drank a little more-it was a party after all-until Madge had half carried him home as he'd tugged on her sundress.
"Gale," she'd laughed, "stop! We're outside!"
They'd barely made it in the house before Gale lifted Madge up and staggered into the bedroom.
She'd waited three months before she told him what his drunken self had done.
"You can't be pregnant," he'd insisted. "We've been careful."
"Not careful enough," she'd told him, her eyes wide and terrified, fearful of his response.
Just like before, one little lapse in judgment had proved enough to up-end their life.
For half a heartbeat he'd almost told her they needed to get rid of it, she wasn't strong enough to have another baby and he definitely wasn't strong enough to watch her almost bleed to death again.
Just as quickly as the thought formed he'd pushed it away. Getting rid of it was every bit as dangerous as a delivery and he couldn't do that to their baby.
So he'd swallowed down the bile in his throat and smiled.
"It's gonna be okay," he'd told her, pulling her to him and smoothing down her hair, letting her tears of relief soak his shirt. "It'll be okay."
He'd make it okay.
The next day he'd gone to that shitty midwife and begged her to check Madge over and tell him what he could do to help.
"Stop knocking her up, that'd help plenty," the old woman snapped, her bones creaking as she'd hobbled around her dirty house. Glaring at him, she'd huffed. "I'll come look her over tomorrow."
And she had, complaining the whole time as Gale had hovered over her.
"Will you get your nose out of my way?" She'd snapped as she checked Madge over.
"Everything seems okay?" Madge asked, gnawing painfully on her bottom lip once the check-up was over.
"Everything seemed okay last time, other than your hips, child," the midwife reminded her. "It's not the carrying you've got problems with. It's the getting that little devil out that gets you."
She'd left after that, telling Madge to eat plenty of greens and meats and she'd check her again in a month.
Daisy had come right on time, in the early morning of a cool spring day.
The labor hadn't been half as long, not nearly as rough or bloody, and at the end if it Madge hadn't gone through another round if contractions. Gale hadn't watched his wife turn into a pale specter slipping away from him. They'd come out of it with a perfect little girl and nothing more.
She'd been paler than the twins, not quite as fair as Madge, but close. Her hair had been light, matched perfectly to her baby blue eyes, and Gale had known she'd be every bit her mother's child in looks as the twins were his.
"We need to stick her outside," Briar had told Gale when he'd crouched down to give her and Sage their first look at their sister. "She's too doughy. I think she needs to cook longer."
"She's fine," Gale explained. "She's just got your mom's color."
Sage had carefully held out his finger and smiled when she'd taken it.
"I like her," he'd simply said. "Even if she's doughy."
Over the years Daisy has darkened in the sun, her hair hasn't stayed such a pale blonde, but she's still much lighter than her brothers and sisters, and her eyes have stayed bright and blue.
His little Daisy isn't fragile. Gale has seen her be just as wild as her sibling, bounce around and down and then get back up and go again, but she still seems so small and breakable to him. A little girl like her doesn't belong in the Seam.
A small part of his mind knows it's her resemblance to Madge that makes him treat her more gently, but he can't seem to stop himself.
Giggling, Daisy grins up at him and Gale kisses the top of her head before he feels Miles crawling into his back.
He hadn't been quite as big a surprise as Daisy, Gale remembers his conception very clearly, but he definitely hadn't been planned.
Gale had gotten promoted to Shift Supervisor, just after Daisy's turned two, and he'd taken Madge on a real date to celebrate.
They'd worn their nicest clothes and gone to the only restaurant in Town, a dusty building run by an elderly man and his homely daughters, ate pasta and enjoyed a rare evening without children climbing all over them.
"You should have a headache every once in a while," the old midwife grumbled as she stumped into the house that time.
"It's been two years," Gale growled, his face burning.
She'd waved him off, dismissing him from the room as she'd looked Madge over.
"I'm too old to have your breathing down my neck this time."
Gale felt her age was plenty good enough reason to watch over her shoulder, but he'd sat in the living room with the kids after Made had gently told him to not argue.
"I thought you said momma wasn't havin' any more babies?" Briar asked, nose wrinkled up in an uncanny imitation of her mother.
Before Gale could think of a good explanation, Sage answered.
"Uncle Rory said dad can't keep it in his pants and momma is too fertile for her own good." He frowned.
Briar's face had scrunched up as she'd looked at Gale.
"Daddy, what can't you keep in your pants?"
Gale had given Rory a long talk after that, most of which was done with his obnoxious brother in a headlock.
"So help me, Rory, if I have to explain sex to my six year olds because of you I'm going to make your life hell."
And as his brother's Shift Supervisor, he was more than capable of making Rory plenty miserable.
Miles had come during a mid-January snowstorm, nearly causing the midwife to freeze on the walk over and keeping Gale's family from being there.
"He's got so much hair," Briar commented as she held her newest brother, helped by Madge.
"You had that much when you were born too," Madge told her. "Aunt Posy used to put bows in yours."
Briar made a face. "Ugh!"
Miles had gurgled happily at his sister's disgust.
He's a bit like Rory in that way, delighting in things annoying his sibling
Flipping over Gale's shoulder, Miles giggles as he sprawls out, his foot going in Wren's face and finally pulling her from her slumber.
"Stop, Miles," Sage tells him, pushing his foot from Wren's face. "You'll hurt her."
Coming from the boy who'd half dragged her down the hall, Gale thinks that's a bit of a reach, but he just laughs as Wren squeals happily and grabs for her brother's foot again, trying to bite it.
"No Wen, bad Wen," Miles tells her seriously, wagging a tiny finger at her for emphasis.
She grabs it and gums it cheerfully, oblivious.
"No Wen!" Miles grumbles. "Stop."
Madge gently pulls his hand from her youngest child's mouth. "Don't sweetheart. You'll hurt your brother. Tell him sorry."
Wren makes a noise, as close to sorry as her few months will let her get, as she drools down her front.
"S'okay," Miles tells her.
"Did you plan this one?" Rory had asked, after Gale told his family of Madge's last, and Gale did mean last, pregnancy.
They didn't, but Gale hadn't wanted to admit to another unplanned pregnancy.
"Yes."
"There's a first."
Gale had sworn Madge to secrecy and she'd heartily agreed.
"We can at least look responsible one time," she'd sighed.
Wren, their happy, bubbly baby, had arrived just months ago, in the middle of a bright summer day.
She squeals in delight as Gale plucks her from Madge's arms and gives her a jiggle.
"Are you not gonna give daddy a hug too?"
With a toothless grin she makes another happy noise before drooling on his shoulder.
"Come on, daddy," Daisy says, grabbing his hand and tugging him. "We gotta get up and eat birthday breakfast."
Which means Gale needs to cook breakfast. Making perfect kids and being a great mom Madge has mastered, cooking she hasn't.
Grunting, Wren still in his arms and Miles hanging on his back, Gale gets up and let's Daisy pull him along, following Sage and Briar out the door.
He hears sizzling and smells something that smells suspiciously like sausage in the air, and his heart drops to his ankles. The kids have tried to prepare breakfast all on their own. The kitchen is probably on fire.
When they turn into the kitchen he feels relief wash over him.
Rory is at the stove, prodding a fat sausage while Vick is pulling out a dozen tesserae grain biscuits, and Posy is setting the table as a very pregnant Charity waddles around with her, attempting to help.
"Happy Birthday, baby," his mom tells him, materializing beside him and kissing his cheek, adding a whispered 'you should shave' before scooping Miles off his back.
"Gammy!" He cheers as she settles him on her hip.
Posy swoops in and gives him a hug before tugging him to the table.
"The kids wanted to surprise you, so they let us in early to cook," she explains.
Charity plops into the chair across from him, out of breath and uncomfortable, before smiling.
"Happy birthday," she tells him.
Gale smiles and shifts Wren on his lap, gesturing to his sister-in-law's middle. "Ready?"
She sighs. "Beyond ready."
Madge drops beside Gale and smiles. "I know the feeling."
Slowly they all take their seats at the table, pulling up chairs from the living room to accommodate the extra people, before diving into the meal.
Gale watches as Vick pushes extra food onto Charity's plate when she isn't looking and then as Rory butter's Daisy's toast for her.
"I traded my as-my rear off to get those sausages," Rory tells Gale. "So you'd better enjoy them, birthday boy."
Gale takes an unnecessarily large bite after that, grinning smugly.
#######
Gale's mother makes blackberry cobbler when Gale, the twins, Vick, and Rory come home from the woods.
Sage attributes their haul, which is more sizable than normal, to birthday luck.
"We need to come out on everyone's birthday," he tells Gale when they reset their last snare.
"We do," Rory mutters, sucking on a cut on his thumb, clearly not thinking the day is too lucky.
Miles gets more sticky berry juice on his clothes than in his mouth, Wren gets it in her hair when no one is looking, and despite their best efforts, Briar and Sage end up sticky messes. Only Daisy manages to not be a disaster.
She still gets scrubbed down with her siblings though.
"I guess I should be glad we got interrupted earlier," Gale chuckles, once all the kids are clean and collapsed on the bed around them, exhausted from an early day and a rare occasion of overeating.
Gale tries not to think about how often his kids don't get all they'd like to eat. They eat better than most kids in the Seam, he's made sure of it. He hasn't let his babies go to bed hungry, even during the leanest winter.
Food isn't plentiful, not by a long shot, but it isn't nonexistent as it so often was when he was little.
With each new mouth to feed, he's worked harder to make sure they're always fed, even if they could eat more.
Pushing the thought away, he looks over at Madge and grins.
She's still as pretty as the first time he'd seen her. Not even a harsh life in the Seam, a life she had no business being a part of, that she only has because of a monumental lapse in judgment, hasn't stolen her beauty.
There's no harsh lines on her face, no hopelessness in her eyes, just a simple sweetness Gale has always coveted.
"I dunno," she shrugs, lips twitching into a grin. "Might be nice to get an even number. Unless it's twins again."
Gale's insides lurch. "Don't even think it."
She laughs, bright and sweetly. "Don't worry. I'm more than happy to leave the grandbaby making to Vick and Charity."
"Me too," Gale agrees.
His mom has four kids, let the other three give her some grandchildren.
Well, Vick and Rory anyways, Posy can stay single and childless forever as far as Gale is concerned.
"I'm glad we have them though," she adds, a soft smile on her lips as she brushes a wild strand of hair from Briar's face.
"Yeah," Gale chuckles.
He can't imagine a life without them. He may have wanted to stop after that first disastrous delivery, but he wouldn't trade any of them, even for the security of a life where they didn't exist and he hadn't had to worry for Madge's safety.
Yawning, he slumps lower in the bed, against new fluffy pillows, a birthday gift from Rory's girlfriend, a curly haired magistrate that had only moved to the district a few months ago. Gale likes her, even if she's clearly a poor judge of character.
Scooting Wren up, Madge leans past her to Gale, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Happy birthday."
Gale catches her lips before she pulls too far away, growling low against her mouth. "Thanks."
And if they didn't have a bed full of their kids, he'd show her just how happy his birthday had been.
Considering that over half of said children were the result of celebrations, he supposes that might be for the best.
Pulling Sage closer and adjusting Daisy's head in the crook of his arm, Gale sighs.
He hadn't gotten to start his day quite the way he'd wanted, but he can't imagine ending it any better.
Well, almost.