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: Just wanted to play with the kiddos' personalities a bit. Hopefully they come off as distinct and realistic. I've been playing with this for a while (the cut sections are so extensive they may end up as chapters of their own someday), so I also hope it isn't a complete mess. Happy Halloween! May this be more a treat than a trick.
Kaleidoscope, pt 8
Rain batters the roof, drizzles down the window panes as thunder rumbles in the distance.
It's been storming all night, adding to the dark atmosphere already hanging over the district as one day melts into the next.
Reaping Day.
Gale has dreaded the twins reaching Reaping age since he'd stood under a simmering sun the first time after their birth.
Briar had squirmed in his arms, her wide eyes searching around her at the strange sights and soft sobs reaching her tiny ears. Sage had been calmer, his chubby cheeks settled on Madge's shoulder as he'd dozed, oblivious to the pain about to occur around him.
Rory had stood a head taller than the other boys his age, while Vick had slouched low, apparently trying to disappear into the sea of boys around him. It was a waste of his efforts. He'd grown so tall and lanky there was no way he could hope to vanish in the crowd.
Neither one of their names were called that day. That honor went to a boy and girl Gale didn't know. What was left of them had come home a few weeks later in flimsy wood boxes, buried with little fanfare in the District Twelve cemetery.
That first Reaping had put a cold fear into Gale's soul, worse than when any of his siblings started having their names placed in that awful bowl.
He'd stayed up later with the babies for weeks after that, woken at even the smallest noise they made, doubled his traps in the woods, wore himself out thinking about what was coming that he couldn't stop until Madge put an end to it.
"What will be will be, Gale," she'd whispered as she held him close, refusing to let him get up and check the babies for what must've been the tenth time in a night. "You can't wear yourself ragged over what you can't stop."
She was right, he knew that. Her name had been put in the Reaping bowl just like everyone else's. Being the daughter of the Mayor hadn't stopped that.
Nothing Gale could do would stop it either.
Still, he'd done his damnedest to keep their names from ever being in that bowl more times than absolutely necessary.
His pride had learned to take a backseat, bartering and trading, accepting help from his in-laws and that filthy drunk Haymitch, if it meant his children's names were in the bowl as few times as possible.
It was a double edged sword, having influential family. Something he should've learned years before but somehow always forgot.
"Kids at school said our names probably aren't even in the bowl, because of papa," Briar had told him as they'd say on a downed tree and cleaned their catch of fish, only days before. "I told them to shut their lying mouths. Shoulda just hit them."
"Mom said no more fighting," Sage reminded her as he gutted his own fish. "And Principal said she'd give you detention for next school year if you started another."
"I don't start fights," Briar muttered darkly, wiping blood flecks from her cheek and roughly flinging her fishes head way.
Gale had agreed with his daughter, a good whipping from her might've been just what those mouthy little bastards needed, but he'd just nodded he agreement with Sage. Madge had warned him against encouraging their daughter's more violent tendencies, even when he wanted to.
Why Madge had let her dad give their kids lessons in boxing if she didn't want them fighting made no sense sometimes. Most times.
"They need to know how to protect themselves, not punch people for saying things they don't like," Madge had explained simply.
And people, kids, had said plenty they didn't like.
Gale had hoped all the nasty rumors about Madge were dead and gone by the time the twins started school, but when Briar and Sage came home with bloody noses and scraped knees, torn school uniforms from a scuffle, he found out all the ugliness had only simmered low out of view.
"They called momma a whore," Briar told them as Madge cleaned blood from her face with a damp rag, her expression weary.
"Then they said Bri and Daisy'd be whores when they grew up too," Sage added. "Dad, what's a whore?"
That hadn't been a pleasant conversation, and Gale had gone to work the next day in a sour mood.
"Kids just like to be little assholes," Rory had tried to calm him. "It'll die down."
Slowly, very slowly, it had. Sage and Briar got in fewer fights defending their mom's honor. Eventually, as Sage grew taller, outshooting everyone in his year, kids did stop trashing Madge in front of him. Briar was another story.
Girls were a nasty kind of vicious, calling Madge names and making insinuations about their family and life, and Briar's temperament didn't suit her to it.
Jealousy, Madge told him, was at the heart of all the teasing and torment Briar was subjected to.
"It's the price of privilege."
Even if she has no real privilege. Her grandparents may be the richest people in the district, but Briar is still the child of a miner.
That doesn't seem to make any difference to the kids at school though.
"The truth doesn't matter. They believe what they want."
And what they want to believe is a load of crap.
"It's 'cause she's prettier than them," Gale finally decided. It isn't money, but good genes the girls are jealous of. "They'll be a bunch of hags like their moms and she's gonna end up like you."
"A whore?"
Rolling his eyes, Gale pulled her into a hug, pressed his lips to her neck and shook his head.
"Gorgeous. Smart. Perfect."
"That's a bit of a reach," Madge snorted.
"Less of a reach than being a whore," Gale growled.
Whatever the reason, jealousy or assholery, Briar still comes home with ripped uniforms and black eyes, telling stories of bathroom brawls and with letters from her teacher and principal at least once a month.
Gale wishes being tough as nails made Briar safe, made any of his kids safe, but it doesn't.
Another clap of thunder shakes the house and Gale feels Madge nuzzle in closer to him, her breath warm on his skin.
"Can't sleep either?" She asks, sounding every bit as awake and exhausted as Gale feels.
Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, Gale shakes his head. His voice is broken in his chest, unable to answer her.
She doesn't say anything else, just begins humming softly.
The sound, combined with the gentle way her body vibrates against his, lulls Gale into a kind of stupor.
He drifts off to sleep just as the rain is finally beginning to lighten up.
#######
When he wakes from his restless sleep it's to a clammy, silver skied morning.
The rain has stopped, but thunder still rumbles through the air infrequently, letting them know the threat of another downpour is possible.
Gale numbly puts on his nicest shirt, only unpatched pants, and fights his hair into something presentable, wondering just why they have got get dressed up.
"Because of the cameras," Madge reminds him wearily as she turns her exposed back to him. "If they take a shot of the crowd they'll want us looking our best."
And they can't upset the delicate sensibilities of the Capitol, Gale thinks irritably as he zips Madge's dress up.
Turning back to him, Madge forces a weak smile, her color more than a little pasty. She reaches out and smooths the front of Gale's shirt, pale eyes staring at nonexistent flaws in the repaired seams she'd mended days prior before sighing.
"It's going to be okay. They're going to be fine," she finally says, more to herself than Gale. Her eyes finally focus as they rise to Gale's face, chewing her lip. "They're twelve. Twelve year olds don't get Reaped."
It's a myth, Gale knows that. Prim was only twelve when her name was called, but he doesn't remind Madge of that. She needs what little hope she can cling to today.
Pulling her into a hug, Gale rests his chin on the top of her head, inhales the clean scent of soap hanging around her.
"Nothing's going to happen to them," he tells her, meaning every word of it.
Nothing will happen to his kids. He won't let anything happen to them. Not today, not ever.
#######
Sage is already awake and sitting on the edge of his and Miles' bed when Gale comes to wake him.
His hair is a mess, more so than normal, and Gale runs a hand over his face and sighs, knowing his son had slept just as poorly as he had.
"Bad night, bud?"
Looking up, Sage gives him a weak smile before shrugging.
"Miles kept crying," he says, looking over his shoulder at his brother, now rolling over with a grunt.
"Uh-uh," Miles protests, sitting up on his knees and glaring, crossing his arms in defiance. Then he deflates. "I only cried a little daddy."
Stepping into the room, which is only just big enough for the mattress the boys share, Gale sets down beside Sage, letting Miles scramble up beside him.
"That's okay," Gale assures him, pulling Miles into his lap. "It's scary."
"But they won't take Sage or Bri, right?" He asks, grey eyes locked on Gale. "You won't let them, will you?"
Gale wishes he were half as powerful as Miles thinks he is, had the power to protect them from the bastards treating their lives like pawns in a game, but he isn't.
Wrapping his arms around Miles, Gale sighs.
"No one is taking your brother or sister."
He feels Sage lean into him, his messy head resting on his shoulder, and when he looks up, he gives his dad a weak smile.
Sage isn't like Miles, still able to believe the fairy tale that Gale is something more than a poor miner who had the good luck to marry a princess. He knows that if his name is called, there's nothing Gale can do to stop them taking him away. At least nothing legal.
"Dad won't let anything happen," he tells Miles, the lie coming so easily Gale almost believes it himself. It's a little concerning.
He's pretending, if only for his brother's peace of mind, and Gale ruffles his hair, grateful his son inherited Madge's poker face.
"No one is taking my kids," he promises, hoping his lie is as solid sounding as his son's.
#######
Madge has carefully pulled Briar's hair up, into an elegant kind of bun, and is working on wrestling Wren into one of the hand-me-down dresses she'd inherited from her sisters when Gale finally finishes talking with the boys.
"Briar was up and dressed already," Madge explains as Wren squirms away, dress half off.
Judging by the grim look Madge shoots Gale, and the anxious expressions on both Briar and Daisy's faces as they sit somberly on the couch, he's certain by now that the only person who'd had a good night sleep was Wren.
"Daddy! We have party!" Wren squeal, throwing herself at Gale's leg and grinning up, holding the hem of her dress out for him to see. "I wearin' party dress!"
Gale wishes she could stay naive and sweet forever, not understand her pretty Reaping Day dress isn't for a party but a funeral, but he knows that isn't possible. Come a few years, she'll be just as frightened and unnaturally quiet as her sisters.
She twirls, sending the dress spinning around her before grinning up a Gale.
"I pretty."
Despite the heaviness around them, the Reaping looming just hours away, Gale chuckles.
"You're gorgeous, baby girl."
Scooping her up, she squeals in delight as Gale presses butterfly kisses to her soft little cheek.
She finally stops him, eyes still bright as she holds his face between her little hands. "Daddy, you nee'a shave."
Pressing another kiss to her nose, Gale just laughs.
"You need to spend less time with Grammy."
She's putting silly ideas in her head.
Setting Wren down, Gale sends her back to Madge to finish getting dressed while Gale settles onto the couch between Briar and Daisy.
Briar fidgets with her dress, nose wrinkling in an uncanny imitation of Madge as she picks at the lacy hem. She isn't normally so still, so soft looking. She's always moving, doing, smiling and ready for an adventure. Quiet doesn't suit his rough and tumble child.
He feels Daisy lean into him, take his hand and squeeze it.
"Momma helped me look up st-stick-stickstictics at the library and it said only seventeen twelve year olds have ever been Reaped," she tells him softly.
"I won't be twelve forever," Briar grumbles, crossing her arms and slouching back in the couch.
Daisy shrinks down, sorely disappointed her hard work hadn't comforted her sister. "I was just-I thought it might make you feel be-"
"Well, it doesn't," Briar snaps, eyes narrowed on Daisy's glowing cheeks.
"Hey," Gale cuts her off. He knows she's scared, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat her sister like crap.
Chewing her tongue, Briar's eyes cut from Gale to Daisy and back again, before finally closing her eyes as she sighs.
"Sorry, Daisy," she mutter, no real conviction behind her voice as she slumps further into the couch.
Beside him, Daisy sighs, forces a smile, then snuggles into his side.
She rarely lets her sister's rudeness upset her, and today, when everyone's nerves are raw, is no different. It's a mercy he's forever grateful for.
Settling back on the couch, Gale wraps his arms around his girls, pulls them closer and presses kisses to their hair.
"Nothing is gonna happen today," he tells them.
Briar stiffens, takes a sharp breath. "You don't know that."
She isn't like Sage, content to let him soothe her with sweet sounding lies, Briar has too much of Gale's fire in him. The truth, no matter how bitter, is preferable to a sugar coated comfort.
"No," Gale begins, his eyes locking with Briar's. "But I believe it. I've worked hard so that you and Sage's names would be in that bowl as few times as possible, so that your little brother and sisters' names wouldn't be in there as many times as mine was, and I have to believe that's going to pay off."
It has too.
For a moment Briar is quiet, then her lips quirk up into a tight smile.
"I know," she tells him, sitting up on her knees and wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his rough cheek. "Thanks, dad."
She doesn't believe it, Gale knows that, but he appreciates the effort, for Daisy's sake at least.
Plopping back down, Briar makes a face.
"Wren is right, you need to shave."
"If your mom doesn't mind it then neither should you," he tells her, grinning at the disgusted expression she makes.
"Ew!"
"Ew, you," Gale laughs.
Daisy crawls in his lap, settles against his chest and tilts her head up.
"I like it. It makes you look dis-distinguish-ed," she tells him.
Gale is pretty sure she doesn't know what 'distinguished' means, but he takes the compliment anyways.
Sage and Miles finally emerge from their room, Sage still trying to flatten his unruly hair and failing miserably. Miles, by the looks of it, made no such effort. His hair is still sticking up in all directions, smashed flat at the back where he'd slept in it a little.
"Oh, Miles," Madge sighs. "Your hair is a mess."
"I comb-ed it," he tells her, patting his head.
"It was worse," Sage agrees, eyeing his brother's disastrous hair.
Madge sets Wren down, now fully dressed, and sighs as she glances at the clock.
There's no fixing it now and Gale doubts Madge cares any more than he does.
A thick silence settles over them as they realize it's almost time to start walking, punctuated only by Wren jabbering happily to herself as she awkwardly buttons up her ragdoll's dress.
No one wants to be the first to start to the door, acknowledge that the moment when that air-head Effie Trinket will snatch two lives away is painfully close.
It's inevitable though, it has been since the moment the twins drew their first breaths. No amount of waiting will change that.
"Ready!" Wren shouts, holding her doll overhead and beaming at her family.
Standing, Gale nods, holds open his arms for Wren. "Hop up then."
Twirling, admiring her dress once more, Wren then races to Gale and leaps up, letting him catch her and toss her up, earning a giggle as he swings her into the cradle of his arms.
What will be will be, no avoiding it.
#######
The clouds have burned off by the time they reach the center of town.
Briar's brave face stays intact until they reach the lines separating girls and boys, sending the ages into their own roped off section in front of the stage.
Her chin quivers as Madge brushes a few wayward strands from her face and straightens the front of her blouse, then pulls her into a hug while hoping the sleepless night doesn't make her fall apart at the seams.
"Just keep your eyes on papa and Mr. Abernathy, okay? Just focus on them."
That's what Madge had always done, all those long years. It wouldn't make a difference, but it would help keep her calm.
Nodding, Briar rubs her nose, then lunges at Madge again.
"I love you."
Madge presses a kiss to her cheek. "I love you too, sweetheart."
She isn't her affectionate child, and the sudden display cuts Madge to the core.
Turning to Gale, Briar wraps her arms around him, pressing her face to his middle to hide the tears that had sprung up in her eyes.
Wiping her own eyes, Madge smooths out Sage's hair and smiles.
"It'll be okay, mom," he whispers as he hugs her, pulls back and smiles softly. "I'll go find some strawberries for you after this."
He isn't as confident as he's playing, but he's her comforter. Sage keeps his emotions, what he really wants to say or do buried.
He's got to be terrified, but he won't risk letting it show.
She blames herself for that. He's spent too much time mimicking Madge's tightly guarded feelings, listening when she's warned him and Briar about rising to the kids at schools baiting. It's kept him out of fights, more than Briar, but its left him stifled.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, still smooth and soft, no prickly stubble like Gale's, and nods.
"We'll make candies," she finally says, wiping a tear from her eye, refusing to let it fall.
"Yeah," he nods, reaching out and ruffling Miles' already messy hair. "Yeah, candy."
He grabs Daisy and lifts her off her feet in a hug, then kisses Wren's hair, then her doll's, before wrapping an arm around Briar's shoulder.
"Ready?"
Tears gone and jaw set, eyes hard, Briar nods.
With one last smile, they vanish into the sea of children and Madge has to bite back a sob as Miles and Daisy wrap around her middle.
"They'll be okay," Gale tells her, hoisting Wren onto his shoulders. He isn't convincing, but Madge nods anyway.
"Yeah, they'll be okay."
#######
Madge stands on the tips of her toes, craning her neck to try to see her children's heads.
It's hopeless though, they're lost amid the crowd of frightened kids.
"Where is they?" Wren asks, squinting into the sun, now boiling hot overhead.
Gale gives her a little jiggle and she giggles, forgetting her search as she hugs his head.
"Think I see them," Vick tells her, shifting on his feet and shielding his eyes. "No, no, nevermind."
He gives her an apologetic smile before being yanked by the hand.
"Daddy! Daddy! Lift me up! I wanna see like Wen," Fern pleads, puckering her lower lip.
Laughing, Vick grabs her up and tosses her over his shoulder. "Like this?"
"No, daddy, no!" She giggles before Charity shushes her.
"No yelling, Fern," she half whispers, eyes wide and searching as she shifts their newly born son in her arms, maybe expecting Peacekeepers to come and quiet her child permanently. "Not so loud."
"I wouldn't worry too much, Char," Rory says, appearing beside her and scooping the baby from her arms. "Chaparral said the Peacekeepers are mostly working the perimeter, watching for people skipping out early. I guess it's gotten to be a problem the past couple of years."
That doesn't seem to ease Charity's nerves, though Madge imagines the way Rory is holding her son might not be helping the matters.
"Give him to me," Hazelle huffs, smiling as Rory hands the baby off to her. "No wonder Chaparral doesn't want to have kids. If she's seen how you hold your nieces and nephews it's got to have scared the wits out of the poor girl."
"That's cold, mom," Rory says flatly before grinning. "But possibly entirely true."
Gale grumbles something that sounds like 'shocker' before the anthem blares overhead and the color drains from his face.
Madge feels her stomach turn over as Daisy's cool little hand wraps around hers.
Looking down, Madge tries to smile for her, impart even just a little comfort, but knows it comes across as more of a grimace.
Daisy gives her hand a squeeze and forces a weak smile of her own before leaning in and hugging her around the middle.
Fighting down tears of panic, Madge hugs her daughter back and focuses her eyes on her father just like she had as a child, hoping her children are as fortunate as she'd managed to be during her Reapings for all those years.
#######
The names that are called don't burn into Madge's mind, she only manages to hear them to realize that neither one are her babies.
"It's over," Gale whispers in her ear as he holds her, presses a kiss to her hair.
Madge almost whispers back 'until next year' but bites it back. They've survived one Reaping unscathed and that's one more than two families managed today.
Briar come racing through the crowd, vaulting over the ropes and into Gale's arms, the tail of her shirt untucked from her blouse and flying wildly behind her.
"What did I tell you?" Gale laughs, swinging her up as Wren dances wildly around them.
Sage emerges, paler than usual, but smiles as Miles jumps on his back, whooping loudly.
He scoops up Wren, then Daisy, spinning with them until they fall into a laughing, doubled over Briar and then into Gale.
Beside Madge, Hazelle sighs, the wrinkles at her eyes deepening as she smiles at her grandchildren.
"I don't know how many more of these I can survive," she admits, eyes on the baby now squirming in Vick's arms, probably hungry and hot by now.
Nodding, Madge massages her temples and watches Gale and Rory take turns lifting the younger girls over their heads, some kind of strange test of strength apparently.
"One down," Madge mutters in response, brushing hair from her face. And far too many to go.
There's no changing that though, all they can do is meet the future when it comes.
"Come on momma, we gotta get to papa and nona's house to make candy!" Miles shouts as he drags Madge away from the Justice Building, the old familiar path to her parent's house. "You too Grammy."
Laughing, Madge lets him tug her along, Hazelle trailing behind with Vick and Charity while Gale and Rory race with the kids up ahead.
What will be will be, Madge reminds herself again, as Miles lets her hand go and runs to catch up with his siblings.
She won't waste her every day worrying over the things she can't change. She refuses to let the Capitol have anymore of her life.
Scooping up Wren, who'd stopped to investigate a rock she found more interesting than the race with her family, Madge's face eases into her first real smile of the day.
"Come on, sweetheart," she whispers to her youngest. "Let's go make candy."
#######
AN pt 2: Vick and Charity's son's name is Boone. I couldn't work it in naturally without giving into the urge to have Rory make fun of it, which seemed out of place in this chapter, so it was cut. Just felt bad leaving the little guy nameless.