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: This chapter took forever and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but...yeah, sorry. Thanks to NurseKelly for putting up with my whining.
Kaleidoscope, pt 15
Gale spots Briar the minute he steps in the Hob.
She's got her back to him, slouched in one of the rickety chairs in Greasy Sae's place, downing a drink.
He watches her for a minute, wonders if she's even bothered with eating anything before she started drinking for the day.
"She's worse than Mr. Abernathy," Sage told him, after the first week. "I told her she needs to sober up, but she just keeps drinking."
If Sage can't even get her to be reasonable, Gale doubts he'll have much luck, but he has to try. She can't keep going like this.
Taking a breath, preparing for another stony conversation, Gale crosses the Hob.
Briar doesn't even look up when he pulls out the seat across from her, drops into it with a groan.
"How was the wedding?" She asks, voice harsh and eye staying on the grimy cup in her hand.
"Wasn't one," Gale tells her. "The, uh, the computers were down again. Said they have to get someone from the Capitol down to fix them."
Which according to Daniel, won't be for several weeks.
"Our lives aren't their biggest concern," he told them, as if they hadn't already known. Three straight weekends of fritzing computers made it abundantly clear that whether anyone in Twelve needed official documents, housing, or to file claims was not high on the Capitol's list of concerns.
"Tragic," Briar huffs. She holds up her glass and jiggles it. "Hey! Can the pretty, perfect Daisy Hawthorne's sister get another drink?"
Gale starts to hush her when one of the bootleggers comes to the table and tips some more of his home brew into her cup.
"Pretty and perfect and pregnant," Briar repeats as she takes a long drink from her cup.
The man chuckles, takes the coin from her hand. "Yeah, pretty, perfect, pregnant, we heard you, Hawthorne."
Briar points at Gale.
"Get granddad here a drink too."
Gale shakes his head. She's drank enough for the both of them.
"You need to stop," he tells her, voice low. "You want to pickle your liver?"
She smells like Abernathy already, does she want to look like him too?
"Maybe."
"Briar."
She takes another drink, smacks her lips.
"I'm doing what I want. Daisy gets to, why shouldn't I?"
Pressing his fingers to his eyes, Gale takes a long breath. It's like arguing with the sky.
"Doing what you want and making an ass out of yourself are two different things."
She snorts.
"So drinking a little too much is a no, but sleeping around and getting knocked up, that's just fine?"
Grinding his teeth, Gale bites back a snarl.
"You know as well as I do she wasn't sleeping around."
Briar rolls her eyes.
"We didn't even know she was dating him. Maybe she's just been slumming it the whole time and Rowan got blindsided by those big-"
"Stop," Gale cuts her off. "I came to talk to you about getting yourself together, not listen to you insult your sister."
Jealousy is never pretty, but drinking has made it plain ugly on Briar.
"Guess you wasted your time then."
She gets up, but is too tipsy, over corrects and falls back in her seat.
Getting up, Gale tries to pull her up, but she pushes him away.
"I don't need help."
Sighing, Gale watches her struggle to her feet and try to walk, tripping on her feet again, only to be stopped by a pair of large gloves hands.
"You drunk again?" Lew asks as Briar tries to shove him away.
"I'm fine," she grumbles, holding onto a table for support. "I'm not pretty and perfect and pregnant, but I'm fine."
Lew shoots Gale an unimpressed look.
"Right. Down here drowning your sorrows and complaining about that sister." He looks unimpressed and a little wary as he looks around, watches the men in the corner for a moment before sighing. He leans closer and whispers just loud enough for Gale to hear. "You need to watch yourself. You keep running that mouth of yours and bad things are gonna happen."
Briar chuckles, rolls her eyes.
"You gonna take me to the stockades, Lew? Drop me at the drunk tank?"
He frowns, sets her in a disappointed look.
"Not if I don't have to," he answers as she finally finds her footing and pushes past him.
"Piss off."
Gale watches her stagger out, swearing when she stops and buys another bottle from one of the men hanging by the door.
"I'll keep an eye on her," Lew tells him as he wipes something brown and sticky from his uniform. "I'll take her back to Sage's later if she doesn't look like she'll make it."
It's the best that can be done for now. Briar has to burn herself out before they're going to get anywhere with her.
Gale nods, claps him on the shoulder. "Thanks."
According to Sage, Lew has been bringing Briar home most nights, in varying states of drunkenness and in degrees off combativeness.
"She's lucky he likes her," Sage told him. "If it were Jasper or Graves she'd be dead or worse."
Much as Gale hates it that a Peacekeeper is keeping watch over his wayward daughter, it could be worse.
Lew picks up the cup Briar abandoned, takes a sniff, makes a face, and sets it back down.
"You must be some hearty stock. That shits terrible. That's Abernathy's kinda drink."
Gale shrugs. He's not exactly a novice drinker.
Looking over his shoulder, Lew frowns before looking back at Gale.
"She get that sterling wit from you too? Or did she get more than a pretty face from her momma?"
Gale doesn't answer. Even if he's grateful for the protection he's giving Briar, he doesn't owe him answers about her.
"Well, I wish she'd gotten a little sense from one of you," Lew continues, pretending he hasn't been ignored. "Because she's gonna say the wrong thing one of these days and the wrong person'll hear. Briar might not act much like it, but she's the Mayor's grandkid. She needs to rein it in or else bad things are gonna happen."
With that he gives Gale a nod and leaves down the same path Briar had, casting an uneasy glance around as he goes.
A knot forms in Gale's stomach as the door drops shut behind him.
Frowning, Gale sits back down and tries to decide if he was just given a threat or a warning.
#######
Briar comes while Daisy is in school almost every day and takes her things from their room, piece by piece removing herself from the space over the next few weeks after the announcement.
Madge is grateful she at least saves her drinking until after she's visited. From what Sage and Gale have told her it's not a pleasant sight, and Madge doesn't think she can stand to watch her fall apart like that.
She doesn't talk, just grunts a hello and gets to work.
Each visit, Madge watches her silently pick things up, examine them, then seemingly arbitrarily toss some aside. It takes a few visits to realize why she keeps some things and leaves others.
First is the scarf she'd worn since she was eleven, then the rabbit hide case for her knife, several pairs of socks, a few dresses, and a hair ribbon she'd worn exactly once. It isn't until she rips the case from her pillow and drops it on the floor that Madge realizes what she's doing.
They're all things Daisy has made for her.
Daisy knows from the start though. She'd come home and stared at the scarf on the floor by her bed that first day for nearly an hour before she'd picked it up, carefully folded it, and placed it next to the mattress Briar had used as a bed.
She stops crying after the first few days, but Madge thinks it's more for drying up than it is for being done.
"She's never going to forgive me," she says, voice hollow as she sits on the back porch, hemming a pair of Miles' pants. "She's right not to."
They'd been let out of class early. A water line had broken and flooded several classrooms and it had been simpler to let all the kids out early than to release only those affected.
Briar had shown up to gather more of her things as Daisy had walked in, shoes wet, Wren and Miles at her heels.
She hadn't said anything, just glared for a moment before telling Madge she wouldn't be there long. She had 'things' to do.
"She didn't yell at us today, or when we saw her at Nona's the other day," Wren reminds her, snapping the end off one of the beans from last mess of the season. "That's better."
Daisy makes a noise, somewhere between a laugh and a choke, reaches out and tugs Wren's pigtail.
"Thanks."
"It's progress," Madge agrees, forcing a smile for Wren.
Snapping and other bean, Wren looks at Daisy.
"Can we name the baby 'Sawyer'?"
Daisy's mouth twitches up. "What if it's a girl?"
Wren's nose wrinkles up. "Dad said Sage is having a girl."
"So I can't have one too?"
Shrugging, Wren drops the end of her bean in the pot. "Be kinda boring to get two girls, but it can be Sawyer if it's a girl too."
Daisy gives Wren a small smile.
"Sure."
Madge snaps her bean and glances over her shoulder, through the door and to the kitchen.
Miles is sitting at the kitchen table, his sharp eyes on his book, but he's not reading.
He's listening, waiting for Briar to come out of her room and leave.
"I'm not going to the woods until she leaves," he'd told Madge. "I'm not letting her yell at Daisy."
"She won't," Madge assured him.
Yelling is too close to talking and Briar is dead set on never uttering a word to her sister again.
He hadn't believed her and had plopped into his seat and pulled out on of his battered school books instead.
Running a hand through his dark curls, he looks up, eyes narrowed toward the living room.
At first Madge thinks he's heard Briar coming out, but then he frowns, stands up and walks out of the kitchen.
Not wanting a fight, Madge gets up and dusts off her skirt, leaves Daisy and Wren on the porch while she investigates.
She's barely to the break in the kitchen and the living room when Miles grabs her and pulls her behind the wall.
He presses a finger to his lips silently looks around the corner and to the door.
Through the cracked glass of the window beside the door, Madge sees the crisp white of a Peacekeepers uniform and the glint of a gun.
Her heart stops.
Had something happened with Gale and Sage? They were at work, weren't they?
Had they been hurt? Was something wrong at the mines?
There'd been no sirens, she quickly reminds herself, and Peacekeepers aren't used to alert families of catastrophic events. They're bad omens, but not from the mines.
Somehow that's not a comfort.
Squeezing Miles' hand, Madge closes her eyes and waits for the rough knock at the door.
Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, Madge steps around Miles and goes to the door, slowly opens it.
On the other side is Romulus Thread.
He's not as imposing as he's been when he'd first come to Twelve. His stance is hunched now, the remnant of a fall he'd taken during the cold winter when Miles was born, and his hair has thinned, patchy and stunted where it does manage to grow.
His smile is as cold as ever though, and he's every bit as vile as Madge remembers him being all those years ago.
"Mr. Thread." Madge manages to force a smile, keep her voice from cracking. "What a lovely surprise."
His thin lips curl up.
"Miss Undersee." He looks over her shoulder, spotting Miles standing at her back. "I'm sorry, it's Mrs. Hawthorne now, isn't it?"
Madge doesn't let her expression falter. "It has been for over two decades."
And he knows it.
"Of course." His icy eyes trace over her, lingering too long on her chest before drifting back to her face. "I've heard good news about your little family, another addition on the way."
Heart speeding up, Madge nods, wishing Gale were there. Thread had planned this around when he wouldn't be home, she's sure of it. It's a calculated attack.
She also knows he's talking about Daisy, he's angling for something, but she decides to feign ignorance.
"Sage, one of my oldest, his wife is pregnant."
Smile widening, Thread clicks his tongue.
"This really isn't the time for games, Magdalene. You know as well as I do which of your offspring I'm talking about."
When Madge remains silent, he sighs.
"Life in this hovel has dulled you, I'm afraid. Pretend all you like, but you know why I'm here." He chuckles as he spots something over her shoulder. "And there she is, the glowing mother-to-be."
Turning, Madge sees Daisy and Wren have come back in the house, curious what was keeping their mother.
Thread pushes past Madge, followed by two more Peacekeepers.
The taller one, who Madge recognizes as the man who'd brought Briar home weeks before, gives her a sympathetic smile before following Thread into her home.
"You are a pretty little creature, aren't you?" He tells Daisy, reaching out and taking her chin in his hands. "Pretty and perfect."
Daisy steps back, looks at Madge in confusion.
"And also a pity. I'm sure the boys in this district will miss you when you get shipped off to…" he looks over his shoulder, at Briar's friend, "ten, isn't it, Lewes? That is still where they send all the knocked up whores, isn't it? That's where you mother is from, I believe, a short trip for her, wasn't it?"
Lewes doesn't say anything, but his expression tightens, eyes narrow on Thread.
Miles grabs Daisy by the hand, pulls her back and steps between Thread and his sister, his teeth grinding. "Don't talk about my sister like that."
"The truth often hurts." He raises a hand, gestures to the stocky Peacekeeper. "Miss Hawthorne, I'm afraid you have to come with us. You're to be removed to the unwed mothers' home as soon as possible."
"You can't do that!" Briar shouts.
When she'd come out of the bedroom, Madge isn't sure, but she's clearly heard enough.
"Ah, the other Miss Hawthorne. Very good to see you." He gives her an appraising look. "I would think you'd be happy we were here. After all, weren't you the one ranting about how your 'pretty, perfect' sister was also pregnant?"
The color drains from Briars face.
Thread's lips twitch.
"The gentleman arrested last night for bootleg liquor seemed to think the Mayor's granddaughters were at odds over it."
Madge almost groans. The Mayor's grandchild made for a much more impressive arrest than a bootlegger. Thread rarely comes down on those peddling stolen or illegal goods anymore, mostly because he's one of their most frequent customers since his injury, but when he does he's been known to trade time for better offers.
For women, it's easy. For men, it's less simple.
Briar's source of drink had no doubt sold her out to keep himself from the stocks.
"Have you made up?" He asks, eyeing Daisy darkly.
Briar's gray eyes cut to Daisy.
Madge has no doubt that she'd complained about her sister, but she'd clearly never anticipated anyone would be listening, or that it would matter. Despite the time spend at the Justice Building with her grandfather, Briar has yet to learn just how delicate their lives can be.
She's about to get a brutal lesson.
The bag in her hands drops to the floor and rushes between Thread and her brother and sister.
"She's getting married-she'd be married already but the computers were down-you can't take her if she's getting married!"
Her panic is palpable, rolling off her like heat. She shakes her head, gets between Thread and Daisy, as if to physically hold off the threat.
Thread chuckles softly. "I most certainly can. She's not married yet-are you now, child? And intent to marry means very little to the law. I'm sure your mother can explain that to you."
Madge grips the doorframe, certain her knees are going to give out.
The law about unwed mothers and their children, as written, is a mess, up for a thousand interpretations. Her father had told her about a magistrate in Five once manipulating it in order to clear out a community home.
Depending on the person reading the law, the pregnant girl could have the entire gestation to get married, or be taken away with the first missed cycle. Intention to marry or not has nothing to do with any of it, only the fact that it has or has not happened.
"Most Districts give their girls a great deal of leeway," her father told her. "No one is eager to tear apart a family."
No one except Thread apparently.
Madge can't think straight, her heart pounds in her chest as she begins to speak, knowing it'll do no good.
"My father-"
"Won't be able to do anything to help her," Thread cuts her off, an insincere smile playing on his lips. "If I were to wager, I'd say he won't be able to help anyone much longer. If he can't even keep his own grandchildren from breaking our laws of morality, how can the Capitol expect him to uphold any laws?"
It's an echo of what her father had said years before, when she'd so stubbornly not cared if she'd been carted off to another district. It's come back to haunt her finally.
Looking at Thread, old and worn, she feels her breath catch in her chest. He isn't content to be simply the hand of the Capitol anymore, forgotten in a backwater district. He wants to truly be their man.
Her father had suspected it for years, but doubted he'd live to make good on the threat.
"He's not a healthy man, from my sources," he'd told Madge. "I also doubt he has the mind to do any real harm. This district has bored him to dullness. All he does is drink and seek out paid companionship."
Her father had underestimated just how badly the man wanted a new station in life.
Thread didn't need a keen intellect, just a few stupid mistakes had handed him all he needed.
He wants to be mayor, and this is how he plans on fighting his way to that position.
"I won't let you take her," Briar growls, standing her ground between Thread and Daisy. "Whatever your stupid law says."
Thread leers at Briar, then looks down at his wristwatch.
"You'd know the law better, Miss Hawthorne, if you didn't leave work early every day." He looks up, smiling. "Though, once your grandfather is relieved of his office, you'll have to find a new occupation. I'm sure your next 'position' will ensure you see your dear sister again soon."
He tries to take her face in his hand, like he'd done with Daisy's earlier, but Briar slaps his hand away.
"Don't touch me!"
Thread's mouth twists up, and before Madge can even process what's happened, the air is filled with a sickening crack as the back of his hand hits Briars across the face, sending her to the ground.
A livid bruise immediately erupts on Briar's cheek, swelling up as she tries to get to her feet.
He starts to hit her again, but Daisy grabs his arm.
Snarling, he flings her off, sending her falling onto Briar.
Miles jumps at him, but the stocky Peacekeeper catches him, and the two of them fall to the ground, wrestling furiously, knocking into the rocking chair and kicking a hole in the wall.
In a moment of mindless panic, Madge rushes over and grabs the poker from beside the fireplace and raises it up. She doesn't care if she's dragged off, executed, never seen again, she'll kill Thread before she lets him lay another hand on one of her children.
Before she can hit him though, the friendly Peacekeeper's hand wraps around her wrist, keeping her frozen with the poker hoisted overhead.
"Don't," he tells her, his deep voice vibrating through the metal of the poker as she struggles to get away.
Thread laughs.
"You haven't got it in you," he sneers. "Lewes, Basalt, get the girl and come along, I've got a letter to write."
Briar wipes the blood from her nose and gets up, physically blocking Daisy from Thread and the Peacekeepers.
"You aren't taking my sister!"
Thread's hand rises again.
The friendly Peacekeeper drops Madge's arm and catches Thread's before he can hit Briar.
"Lewes!" He snarls.
He's cut off before he can ask just what his subordinate is doing.
Briar's friend hits him across the jaw, sending him stumbling backward, holding his bleeding mouth in pain, cursing loudly.
Lew steps past a stunned Briar and grabs Thread by the neck.
He holds him there for a minute, teeth grinding as Thread snarls and makes attempts to hit him, fight him off. He aims a kick and it hits Briar in the leg instead of its target.
Then something snaps, and Thread finally stills.
The Peacekeeper's eyes widen and his grip loosens, letting Thread collapse to the ground.
Madge stares, unsure what's just happened, when the Peacekeeper fighting with Miles finally gets up, kicking Miles away as he gapes at Thread's limp body.
For a moment no one speaks. They're all too stunned, uncertain of what they've witnessed.
Thread doesn't move. His chest doesn't rise and fall, doesn't twitch, doesn't so much as groan in pain.
He's dead.
Lew looks at Madge, his eye wide in panic. He hadn't meant to kill him, she can tell that much by looking at him. Despite being a Peacekeeper, he doesn't seem brutal, more bored and lonely than anything.
This hadn't been his intent, but it's done all the same.
Briar looks at the unmoving body, then at Lew, the realization of what he's done finally hitting her.
She looks at Daisy, then Miles, searching for something, before shaking her head and looking up at Madge. The frantic worry evaporates as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold resolve.
"He tripped."
She turns and stares at the other man, eyes narrowing, voice leaving no room for argument. "He was drinking and he tripped. That's what happened."
When the other man begins shaking, doesn't say anything, Lew finally shakes off his panic and takes a step toward him, reaches out and grabs him by the collar.
"You hear her, Bas? He was drinking and tripped, and that's what happened," he repeats the lie, his grip tightening when the other man glances at Briar, causing him to gasp. "You say any different and there won't be enough left of you to scoop up and send home in a cigar box, hear me?"
The man sputters, nods, and Lew loosens his grip fractionally.
"I'm serious, anyone says you been talking, and I'll cut that tongue of yours right outta your mouth, send you to the Capitol to serve tea and bullshit for the rest of your life, clear?"
How he knows about Avoxes, about the Capitol's use of them, Madge isn't sure. It's hardly common knowledge.
The threats are enough for the boy though, whether he understands it or not. The implication is clear. He's better off dead than in the state Lew described.
He nods furiously, terrified of the giant still holding him.
Lew shoves the man away, points a shaking finger at the door.
"Go, get Winnifred. Tell her the story. Come back with her."
Without question, the man nods and stumbles backward, hand rubbing the pink skin at his throat.
No one speaks for a moment, just stares at Lew's back and down at the unmoving body crumpled in the middle of the living room.
Madge barely notices as Lew turns, takes the poker from her hand and sets it back at the fireplace. There's too many worries racing through her mind to pay him any mind.
There's going to be an investigation. They'll all be questioned. Briar's story is flimsy at best, ridiculously transparent at worst.
They need a better explanation. Something more believable, plausible, a reason for him to be there in the first place. Briar had set out a foundation, but there's more. Madge needs to think, her children need her to think, she has to think her way out of this mess or-
"Mrs. Hawthorne? You okay?" Lew asks, a hand on her shoulder, his expression tight with concern.
"Mom?" Miles leaves Daisy and Briar, where he'd been inspecting them for injury, hurries to Madge. "Mom, breath."
A shaking hand covering her mouth, Madge takes a ragged breath.
Before her knees buckle, someone gets her to the couch, gently sets her down.
"Mom?"
"Mom…"
"Mom!"
It isn't until she sees Wren out the corner of her eye, wide eyes on Thread's body that she finds her voice.
"Wren!"
She'd disappeared during the fight, probably somewhere in the kitchen, until she'd heard the yelling stop.
"I just wanna look," Wren mumbles, eyes still on Thread. She turns her gaze to Lew. "You killed him. You killed him so he wouldn't hit Briar again."
Lew's cheeks darken as he glances at Briar and Daisy, forces a smile that's more like a grimace.
"No, I hit him-I hit him 'cause a man isn't supposed to hit ladies like that," he tells her, nodding after in agreement. He makes a face, clearly considering his next words. "I killed him for talking disrespectfully about my mom."
Miles looks at Thread and then at Lew.
"I'd call you a momma's boy, but I like my face."
A little smile ticks up on Lew's face.
It fades when Madge stands, crosses the room to her daughters.
"Are you okay?" She asks them.
Other than the bruising, some blood and swelling, Briar seems fine, but she could lose a limb and refuse to admit it hurt. Daisy is paler than usual, her ponytail half undone, but seems uninjured.
Briar nods, gingerly touching her swollen cheek, and Daisy mumbles an 'I'm fine' before hurrying to the kitchen, reappearing with a rag that she hands to Briar.
For a moment Briar stares at it, as if it were a foreign object, then glances up at Daisy.
Madge can almost see her mind going over the last few weeks, taking things and leaving others, all the harsh words she said, all the anger she's boiled over with…
In one heated moment she'd nearly cost herself her sister.
As furious and hurt as she is, she doesn't hate Daisy.
A breath shudders in Briar's chest and tears start trickling out her eyes.
"Dais-Daisy, I'm sorry," she stumbles over her words, voice thick and broken. "I didn't know they'd try-I didn't want them to take you…"
Daisy's chin quivers and she nods. "It's oka-"
"No it's not," Briar cuts her off, wiping tears from her unbruised cheek. "They could've-"
"But they didn't," Daisy gently reminds her. "Nothing happened."
Miles makes a face, looks at Thread's body, then shrugs.
Apparently a death is 'nothing' to them, but as it was Thread and he'd been very lewdly threatened her children and assaulting Briar, Madge can't muster much concern.
The stocky Peacekeeper comes running back through the door, pink faced and huffing, followed by a tall woman in a Peacekeeper uniform.
She steps over the threshold, looks at Thread's body, then sighs.
"Drinking again, huh?" She gives the body a little kick with her boot, not appearing terribly upset by the loss. "Why couldn't he have died in a wheelbarrow? Make this easier on us?"
Lew shrugs, doesn't meet her eyes as he nods.
She doesn't ask why Thread had been in the house, and Madge gets the distinct impression she wouldn't care even if she were told the truth. Thread's death is little more than an inconvenience to her.
"You're filing this paperwork," she tells Lew before popping her back. "Help me get him outside."
The three Peacekeepers pick Thread up, carry him out the front door, taking little care in keeping from banging his head on the frame on the way out.
They toss him on what looks to be a dirty bed sheet, then start to drag him away, losing one of his boots in the process.
Lew runs back, up the steps and looks into through the door.
He gives Madge a small smile, as much as she's sure he can muster to reassure her, then jogs back to the other Peacekeepers, snatching up the lost boot as he goes.
She watches them go, profiles shrinking in the distance, certain they'll rush back at any moment. They don't.
Their figures vanish from her vision after a moment, leaving nothing but an uneasy feeling behind.
Looking away from the door Madge finds Briar clinging to Daisy, her face pressed into her shoulder as she silently shakes, tears soaking through the material of Daisy's dress.
Wren has wrapped herself around Briar's back, her cheek pressed to her sister's middle. Miles is at their side, his arms stretched around them, his dark curls falling over Daisy's pale hair where his head is resting on hers.
He looks up, gives Madge a weak smile, then motions for her to come to him.
Wiping her face, Madge feels tears she hadn't even known she was crying.
Taking a ragged breath, Madge crosses the room, lets Miles tuck her into their hug.
Sighing, she closes her eyes.
They're going to be okay.