Ricochet

Chapter 36: Moral support

Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: Most likely PG-13. Nothing worse than what's in the books.
Genre: Adventure/suspense/drama/romance... again, pretty much what's in the books.
Pairings: Peeta/Katniss, Rory/Prim... and probably others. You'll see soon.
Canon/timeline: Same-context AU— this fic still happens in the same world as THG, but the actual events in the books never happened. I'm adding about five years to the characters from the age they were at the beginning of The Hunger Games. Katniss is 21.
Disclaimer: Yeah, just let me go get my transfer laser and switch bodies with Suzanne Collins. Until I find it in the mess that is my room, anything you can recognize belongs to her.

Note: I've never really tried this before (and I'm sure it will eventually come back and bite me in the behind), but each chapter will be from the PoV of a different character. You should be able to tell whose PoV it is fairly easily, though.

Summary: "Primrose Everdeen." This can't be happening, Katniss thought. She desperately pushed through the crowd. I volunteer!, she wanted to scream. I volunteer as tribute! But she couldn't, because she wasn't eligible for the reaping anymore. There was nothing she could do.

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"The road to the future leads us smack into the wall. We simply ricochet off the alternatives that destiny offers." —Jacques-Yves Cousteau.

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Madge had been glad when President Coin assigned her to stand in during the filming of Katniss and Peeta's propos. Ideally, she was just supposed to be there to expedite whatever Plutarch and his team needed without needing to wait for it to go through official channels all the way to Coin, but she was just happy to be involved. If anything, at least with her presence she could offer some kind of moral support.

Except... moral support barely counted for anything given the disastrous direction this production was taking.

"This isn't working!" she heard Katniss say for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. She slammed her custom-made bow onto the rack to the side of the room as she yelled in Plutarch's direction just as Cressida let out a disheartened "Cut!" The sound was muffled by the sound of the metal rack vibrating angrily from the jolt. "I can't do this. Nobody's going to believe anything I'm saying— this is just a waste of time!"

"Katniss, you just need to focus," Cressida said. This, she had also repeated a number of times over the course of what felt like a million failed takes. "You don't have to get the words themselves exactly right. All we need is to transmit the idea that Thirteen is still active and still fighting for the rebellion. It's not that hard, we can keep trying until you feel comfortable."

Katniss opened her mouth, Madge was sure to refute Cressida once again, when Peeta intervened, approaching the two women carefully. "I can do it instead of Katniss, if it makes things easier," he offered. Madge thought that was a good idea as well; from his previous propos, everybody knew he was good at it. And, much like Madge herself, he'd been doing nothing the entire time, just sitting there and cringing in accordance to Katniss's struggle with her lines. Maybe it would be good to switch things up a little.

Katniss snapped her head in his direction so fast, Madge had to wonder if she would get whiplash. "No! Peeta, you don't have to do this. It's my problem, it's got nothing to do with you."

He shook his head. "Katniss, you're only doing this now because I refused to do it after the bombing— it's my fault this didn't get out in time. I can take over."

She looked for a second like she was going to reply harshly, but before she said anything, she shook her head energetically and started stomping her way out of the room. Peeta and Cressida tried calling her back, while Plutarch sputtered an indignant "she can't do that!" but none of that stopped Katniss when she was determined to get out.

It wasn't until she was five feet away that Madge realized Katniss was coming her way. "Katniss, what—?" Her question got cut off as Katniss grabbed her tightly by the arm and started pulling her in the general direction of the exit. "Where are we going?" she asked, stumbling a little as she was all but dragged by her friend.

"Command," Katniss huffed out. "You're going to tell Coin how bad I am at this, how pointless this is, and that she's going to have to get someone who's not me— or Peeta," she added hastily, "—to do this. You're her assistant, she has to listen to you."

"Katniss, I don't think that's a good—"

"I thought you were going to do this for your sister, sweetheart," Madge's reply was interrupted by Haymitch's gruff voice, coming from the last row of chairs near the door. Katniss stopped walking so suddenly, Madge almost ran into her by accident. They both turned to look at the man; he was leaning back on the theater-style chair, his feet crossed and propped up on the backrest of the seat in front of him.

Katniss steadied her feet, letting go of Madge's arm and addressing Haymitch with steel in her eyes. "Coin only wants me because she thinks this will help get people's attention. She can't force me to do something I'll just keep messing up! That won't help the rebellion! It might even make things worse. She has to see that."

Haymitch lowered his feet off the back of the chair, a light "thud" coming up when they hit the ground. "Look, girl. It's no secret to anyone that you've got about as much charm as a dead slug. You know it, I know it. And Coin certainly knows it. She doesn't want you for your sparkling personality, that's for sure."

"Well, what would you know of charm?" Katniss retorted venomously. Madge had never really seen them interact before, but she could see that they got on about as well as oil and water. "It's not like you've been helpful. All you've done since we started filming this morning is sit there and laugh at me instead of coming up with ideas to fix this. Some mentor you are."

"I never said I was your mentor," Haymitch shot at her, just as intensely.

"Good, I don't want you to be," Katniss spat back. Madge discreetly looked around; it seemed like everyone who was present in the studio had stopped everything they were doing in order to watch the argument between these two, like it was some kind of interesting television program.

"But I am your sister's," Haymitch continued, almost like Katniss hadn't spoken. "And I'm saying this for her: Coin's got the upper hand here; if you don't do this, then she has no reason to do anything for you either. And that's not exactly what you want with Blondie in a coma, is it?"

The glare Katniss threw his way was equal parts irate and despaired. The mere idea of Prim not waking up broke Katniss a little more each day, and Madge hated seeing her friend in pain. That's why she spoke up, hopeful. "Maybe she doesn't need the medical support. Maybe she'll wake up on her own."

Katniss didn't acknowledge her assertion, but Haymitch did. "She might," he admitted. "But can we really risk that?" Madge bit her lip and Haymitch probably saw the doubt in her expression. "No, we can't. And you know that better than anyone, don't you, Princess?"

It was then that Katniss turned to look at her, an inquisitive expression on her face. She wanted to know what Haymitch meant, but Madge didn't want to be the one to have to say it. She didn't want to cause her friend any more pain than she already carried in her heart. Because she did know; she hadn't been present for a large chunk of Katniss's conversation with Coin when the Mockingjay arrangement was made, but she'd been the one to draft the papers herself, under her new boss's orders.

But Katniss's gaze was prodding her to say something. She bit her lip even harder and took a deep breath before speaking. "All of Prim's medical attention is conditional on you being the Mockingjay." Katniss didn't react; Madge could almost see her thinking I already know that. Madge shook her head sadly. "All of it. Even the life support."

The words "life support" seemed to hit Katniss like a freight train. She could see, from the suddenly terrified look in her eyes, that she had never thought of Prim's condition in those terms. That she was only alive thanks to the machines, and if she were to be unplugged from them, there would be no life to hold on to. Madge stepped closer to her friend, lifting a hand, intending a comforting gesture. "I'm so sorry—"

"She can't do that," Katniss said, shrugging off Madge's hand. "Prim's just a girl. They can't just let her die like that! It's... it's wrong." Madge agreed with her. It was unfair, but unfortunately, she couldn't see how there was anything they could do about it but comply.

Haymitch seemed to think the same way. "You have to stop thinking only of how uncomfortable you are and stick with it for now." Madge frowned at the implication that Katniss was only thinking of herself. She was the most unselfish person Madge knew. Still, Haymitch didn't exactly give her a chance to protest. "When she starts getting better you can renegotiate, but right now it's better to go with it, sweetheart."

Katniss's jaw was locked tight, but Madge could see her lips trembling when she finally did speak. "Fine." She spun on her heel and went back down the stairs and to the stage where she was supposed to be filming. Everybody else scrambled into position, now that the "show" was over. As Katniss was picking up her bow from the rack, Peeta approached her, a concerned expression on his face. He said something to her, which Madge couldn't hear, but once Katniss shook her head emphatically, he went back to his seat. He still looked worried, but he didn't intervene anymore.

Katniss reluctantly took her position on stage. "What is it that I'm supposed to say, again?"

"Thirteen's alive and well, and so am I." It was Plutarch who provided the line, still sounding disgruntled. Perhaps he was upset he didn't think to film Katniss and Haymitch's little debate.

"It doesn't have to be that literal, Katniss," Cressida intervened, being much more understanding than her producer was. "Maybe it would be easier if we just try it in a question-and-answer format, like we did with Peeta. Would you prefer that?"

"Yeah, sure," Katniss mumbled, in a way that made her seem anything but sure.

Cressida nodded either way, and got back in position, standing near the camera that was now once again trained on Katniss's face. "So, Katniss. You were held prisoner by the Capitol for weeks, but you are now in Thirteen. You're safe now. But when you arrived here, you were met with news of the bombing in District Twelve, and later on in Thirteen as well. How did that make you feel? Does it make you nervous that President Snow can still get to us?"

"I'm always afraid," was the first thing that came out of Katniss's mouth. Then she paused, shaking her head as if realizing that wasn't what she was supposed to say. "But it's— it's different, here. Thirteen can stand up to him. Snow's not dealing with a weak district anymore. He's not dealing with just a weak, hurt girl." She drew a shaky breath. "He has to be stopped. He captured me, he forced me to listen as he murdered my squad mates. And my sister, he put her in that arena and now she's on the verge of—"

She cut herself off, like she was choking on her own words. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then tried again. "Prim, she's on the verge of—" But it was useless; Madge could literally see her friend crumbling before her eyes. Before Cressida could even try to veer her words in a different direction, Katniss fell to her knees, her sister's name bursting out of her in a sob as she started crying, her bow clattering as it hit the ground.

Several people moved to reach out to her. Madge herself wanted to reach for her, but she was too far away to get there in time. Even Haymitch seemed moved by Katniss's obvious pain; Madge knew this because she heard him let out a sad sigh from his seat in the back row. But predictably it was Peeta who reached her first, cradling her in his arms gently, like a small bird that had fallen out of the nest. A Mockingjay that was too hurt to fly. Messalla picked up her dropped weapon as Cressida helped Peeta get Katniss to a standing position. He seemed to be whispering something to her, but Madge couldn't hear what it was. She hoped his words offered Katniss some comfort.

She was wracked with silent sobs, and it took her a minute to calm down. Madge thought she was starting to feel a little better, but then she saw Katniss start shaking her head repeatedly. She could see Peeta frown, speak some more to her, but Katniss wasn't having it. She wiped her tears in a forceful manner and pushed out of Peeta's embrace, not heeding anyone's calls to come back and talk about it.

She ran all the way up the stairs and past Madge— who couldn't even ask her where she was going this time— and out the door. Only a split second went by before Peeta rushed past in hot pursuit, calling out to Katniss with worry tainting his voice. Madge followed him, anxious and afraid that Katniss would do something stupid. She could hear Haymitch following behind her as well, although his steps were a lot slower.

They hurried down the poorly-lit Thirteen corridors, trying to get her to stop, but Katniss was very fast. It wasn't until they turned the corner toward the hospital wing that they all realized where she was going and Madge slowed down, trying to catch her breath as Katniss burst into Prim's small room.

When Madge reached the door, Rory was just getting up from the chair he'd been sitting on by Prim's bedside, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion of a distraught Katniss. "...going on?" Madge only caught the tail end of the question, but it wasn't hard to guess he thought something was wrong. Surely the tear tracks on Katniss's cheeks had to be quite alarming. "Did something ha—"

"You really love her, right?" Katniss interrupted him, her voice choked from the emotion and her breath raspy from the running, but looking at him without waver, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

The boy seemed confused by the question. "Katniss, what do you mean? You know I do—"

But Katniss wasn't in the right frame of mind to explain herself. "Just say it!" she interrupted him again, shaking her head as if to shake unwanted noise out of mind. "Please. I just need to hear that someone—" She paused briefly, as if gathering her wits about her. "—I just need to hear it."

Haymitch and Peeta observed carefully from the sidelines, Haymitch thoughtful and Peeta concerned, almost like Katniss's pain was hurting him, too. Madge could understand her friend's desperation now. Everybody who knew Prim loved her, she was so sweet and generous, it was hard not to care for her. But she had a closer bond with Katniss and Rory— special in their respective ways— and right now Katniss clearly needed to be reminded of that. That there was one other person in the world who loved Prim just as much as she did.

Madge wasn't sure if Rory understood all the implications of Katniss's request, but clearly it hit him deeply as the confusion in his face slowly gave way to a broken, tired expression, his feelings raw and sincere in his grey eyes even if his voice shook when he spoke. "I love her more than anything," he stated, his composure cracking with that last word.

Katniss choked back a sob and launched herself against Rory, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He went stiff for a moment— as far as Madge knew, Katniss had never exactly burst with approval at Prim's relationship with Rory, and she was certainly not a hugger by any stretch of the imagination, so she couldn't blame him for being surprised— but little by little he started breaking down and eventually ended up crying on his sister-in-law's shoulder. He was just a boy, after all; holding all that pain inside was hard on anyone, even on a good day.

Peeta wordlessly handed Madge a tissue so she could discreetly wipe her own tears, but even as he did, he wasn't looking at her; his eyes were fixed on the huddled-together forms of Katniss and Rory as they shared a moment of necessary catharsis. It was hard to look at them, knowing they were hurting so much and not being able to do anything to help.

After a long while, they picked themselves up, wordlessly, and then Rory took back his spot by Prim's bed while Katniss pulled up a second chair to accompany him in his vigil. Madge thought if this brought Katniss and Rory closer together, then at least that was one good thing to come out of this mess. They could help each other get through these trying times.

Prim would like that.

Everybody's somber mood remained for the rest of the week, but come the weekend they actually had a legitimate reason to celebrate, and Hazelle wasn't letting anyone slink to a corner to mope when they were supposed to be having a party.

"Happy birthday, Rory!" Posy exclaimed, after blowing out the candles on the cake. Everyone else chimed in after her, and the birthday boy gave all those present a cheeky smile.

Apparently, this was a tradition in the Hawthorne household that they had extended when they came to Thirteen. When it came to birthdays, they rarely had money to buy a cupcake, let alone cake, but living in the Seam they usually kept candles in stock because more often than not, their power went out at night. So, blowing out the candles was more or less the only "special" thing they did on birthdays, followed by a still-modest-but-larger-than-usual dinner, and all the brothers usually passed the honor of the candles to Posy because she enjoyed it so much when she was little. Even now that she was almost ten, she got a kick out of blowing out seventeen candles in one try.

At least this year they had cake. Food was very tightly rationed in Thirteen, but every citizen had the right to a small cake and an optional get-together during "reflection" hour on their birthday. Peeta had gotten permission to bake Rory's cake himself— it wasn't anything extravagant, just a small vanilla cake with honey buttercream frosting, but it looked delicious regardless. Once Hazelle handed her a plate, Madge could confirm that it tasted delicious as well.

As she sat down to eat her cake with gusto, she snuck a glance at Katniss, who was sitting by herself to one side of the dining hall. Peeta had set a plate with cake down in front of her, but Katniss had barely looked at it. She had barely spoken at all since the day she broke down in front of the camera, and Madge's heart went out to her, but Katniss wasn't letting anyone in. Everybody who tried to talk to her got a glare and a harsh request to leave her alone. She wasn't letting anyone even try to comfort her, like she was forcing herself to be in a sort of limbo, just because Prim was.

She was still staring at Katniss's back when Gale came up to her, plopping down on the chair right beside her as he took a bite of his own piece of cake. "I hate to say this, but damn, Dough Boy can bake." He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to say it only tastes this good because I can't even remember the last time I had cake. Yeah, that's probably it."

Madge had to laugh at the nickname. "I still can't believe you call him Dough Boy," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You know, it won't kill you to admit that Peeta has at least some good qualities. And this cake is really good," she added, as she took her last bite of the delightfully spongy dessert. She scooped up some of the traces of frosting that were left on the plate as she asked: "Hey... have you talked to Katniss recently?"

She saw Gale's eyes shift in the same direction she herself had been looking in before, toward the side of the room, where their mutual friend hadn't moved an inch. He frowned. "No. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she wouldn't talk, and I know from experience that pushing her isn't going to get me anywhere." His mouth twisted into a grimace and Madge couldn't help but wonder what that "experience" had entailed. "What happened, anyway? I know Rory was involved somehow. I tried asking him but he just said to ask Katniss."

Madge bit her lip, thinking of how best to put it so as not to alarm him too much. "She... she broke down on Wednesday, while they were filming a propo."

She knew right away there was really no "best" way to put that, as Gale's eyes flashed brightly with both concern and anger, almost straight away. "What? Did someone say something to her? I swear, if that bastard Heavensbee is forcing her to do something she doesn't—"

"No, no, Plutarch didn't do anything!" Madge interrupted him quickly. She knew Gale held enough animosity toward Capitol people— even those who were "on their side," so to speak— that he hardly needed any incentive to punch Plutarch in the face. She didn't want him to misunderstand, and get himself in trouble. "She just... I think this whole thing with being the Mockingjay is really overwhelming for her."

"Yeah, I can't imagine it's easy for her, having to perform for them like a hand puppet," he said, grimace coming back full-force. He shoved a bite of cake into his mouth forcefully, as if he needed the sweetness to balance out some residual bad taste in his palate. "But she has to do it. We need to get the support of the districts— there's no way we can take down Snow if she doesn't do this."

She looked at him, a bit confused. "It's worse than just having to 'perform,' Gale. They're forcing her. Coin told her if she doesn't do it, she'll stop Prim's treatment and she might never wake up."

She saw him swallow heavily, like the cake had suddenly turned to stone halfway through his throat. He put the plate down on the table. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. "Abernathy told me a couple days ago."

She frowned. Something in the way he said that made her feel so incredibly disappointed in him. "And you approve of that?" she asked him, astounded, because for a second it sounded like he would put the rebellion above Katniss and Prim's well-being, and she couldn't believe that.

He scowled down at her. "No, of course not. Do I want Katniss to be their Mockingjay? No way in hell. But if it's the only way for us to win this thing, then she should do it. She's an adult, she can handle it. If there's a chance her being the Mockingjay might make things better for everybody, she should want do it. For Twelve. For her family. For everybody who has died or suffered because of Snow." He sighed, his breath coming out as a huff because he was suddenly so incensed. That was Gale, Madge surmised: always passionate about the things he believed in.

"I don't want her putting herself at more risk than she already is, but she's our best strategy and all this trouble will be worth it once we're out from under the Capitol's thumb." He shook his head. "But even then, of course I don't want them to involve Prim. She has nothing to do with this; she's not part of this fight."

Madge nodded. "It's not fair."

He shrugged. "That's war, unfortunately. Sometimes you have to do things that aren't fair or aren't right in order for things to become better. Coin knows that." He looked up toward the grey ceiling, pensive. "It's only once it's over that you can see it was all worth it, no matter how bad things got."

Hearing him say such things, Madge wasn't angry anymore— she was just sad. "Do you really believe that? Do you really think Coin using Prim's life as leverage is just 'one of those things' she has to do to win the war?" She shook her head, as well. "If the doctors just give up on Prim because Katniss can't deliver, how are they any better than the Capitol? The rebellion is supposed to allow everybody to be free and in safety. Shouldn't basic health care be available to everyone, then? Why is Prim an exception simply because she's the Mockingjay's sister?"

Now it was she whose impassioned words were almost pouring out of her, breath after breath. Maybe his intensity was rubbing off on her. "Is that the kind of President we want to have when we overthrow Snow? One who uses children to manipulate her subordinates? Doesn't sound like much of a change." She looked at him, only to find him looking back at her, seeming almost stunned by everything she was saying. "How can you willingly follow someone like that?"

"I don't know! You tell me, she's your boss," he retorted, his tone almost defensive. And she knew he had a point. Wasn't she doing the same thing as well, waiting on hand and foot on that very same person she had just been running her mouth off about, just because it allowed her an "in" on information she would otherwise never be privy to?

She didn't know how to reply to that, and she was almost afraid he would call her out on it, accuse her of being a hypocrite, but when she looked into his eyes, she could see he wasn't angry or upset by everything she had just said; instead he seemed shocked, maybe even a bit awed. She had seen him look at her that way before, like he was seeing a completely new side to her he didn't even know existed. "Damn, Undersee."

He sounded so genuinely flabbergasted, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Why do you always seem so surprised that I have an opinion on things?"

"I don't..." he started saying, but then he caught himself halfway through the sentence. He shook his head, looking amused, and gave her a half-smile that made something swoop inside her stomach. "I shouldn't, should I?"

She smiled back at him, and then there was silence for a minute, in which she wasn't sure how to even continue the conversation— should she apologize for her outburst, maybe? Change the topic altogether? Fortunately for her, he cut her internal debate short on his own. "So, how's all of this have anything to do with Rory?" he asked, and only then did Madge remember that she hadn't actually finished telling him the story.

"Oh, well," she started again. "When everything... happened, we all sort of tried to console Katniss, but she only wanted Rory."

"Really? Huh."

Madge could understand Gale's skepticism. As far as she knew, Katniss and Rory got along just fine— he'd been a part of the Everdeen's life just as long as Gale had, after all. But since Rory and Prim started seriously dating, there had been a noticeable tension between them. She wouldn't have pegged Rory to be the first person Katniss would run to at that moment, either. "I think... I think she just needed someone who loves Prim, too."

He frowned. "We all care about Prim."

Madge shook her head. "Yeah, but not like they do." She crossed her arms around her torso, suddenly feeling very cold. "I think maybe she felt he was the only one who could understand how much she was hurting then. They ended up crying in each other's arms for a long time." Her lips formed a small, sad smile. "Don't mention it to Rory, though. I don't think he'd be too happy about you knowing he cried."

She thought that would draw a chuckle out of him, but he was still frowning. She wondered what he was thinking about, if he was worried about Katniss, or Rory, or both, but she didn't ask. It was only after a minute or so of silence that he revealed what was bothering him. "I've never seen Katniss cry," he said, quietly, his eyes fixed on the dark-haired girl on the other side of the room. Madge's followed as well. "Never. Not even when her father died."

Madge nodded, once again feeling sad about all the tragedy her friend had been through in her life. Katniss never had time to grieve properly; she couldn't even do that because she had to be the strong one, she had to be the one to support her family in their times of need. Madge admired her so much for that; if it had been her, she knew she wouldn't have been able to resist that weight on her shoulders. "Well... she's been through a lot, recently," was all she could say, sincerely hoping that things would get better for Katniss soon. She deserved it.

Gale nodded, almost absentmindedly, and then moved to stand up from his seat. "I'm gonna try to talk to her again," he said, and walked off to talk to his best friend with just a movement of his head as a goodbye to Madge. She really hoped he could help Katniss.

As she got up to take her now-empty plate to the washing station, she saw that Katniss wasn't the only one being somewhat unsociable that day. The Hawthorne kids were standing near the table where the cake had been set, animatedly talking with a young boy— the boy who had been the tribute for District Seven, if she remembered correctly. The thirteen-year-old had only sustained minor injuries during the blow-up of the arena, and had been released from the medical bay a few weeks previous. She seemed to recall Vick mentioning that he shared some classes with the boy, so that must be why he was here.

Vick and Posy were in an involved conversation with the boy, gesturing wildly and laughing brilliantly as they talked. She supposed Rory was meant to be included in the conversation as well, but while he was standing there with them, he didn't seem to be paying attention to the chattering of the younger kids. Instead, he seemed to have retracted into himself, arms crossed and his gaze directed at the ground as he leaned against the edge of the table. He looked, she couldn't help but notice, very much like Gale when he was in one of his broody moods.

She approached him carefully. "Hey, birthday boy. You okay?"

He snapped his eyes up, almost surprised that someone was speaking to him, but upon noticing it was her, he gave her a smile that was a little too brilliant to be true. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Just... not really my thing," he said as an explanation, pointing to the three younger kids, who were enthusiastically talking about kickball, as far as Madge could tell.

She pulled him a little to the side. "Are you sure nothing's wrong? I mean, this is your party, after all, but you don't look like you're having much of a good time... did something happen?"

He started shaking his head, as if beginning to respond with a "nothing" that obviously wasn't nothing, but he must've seen the concern in Madge face because he relented with a sigh. "It's just... you know, the usual. Thinking about Prim." His shoulders slumped. "It's not that I don't appreciate you all doing this for me— I do— but I didn't get to see Prim today and I really wanted to." He explained further before she could ask. "Today... I was going to ask her to marry me, today," he finished, his voice lowering by the end of the sentence.

Madge couldn't help but let out a gasp at the unexpected confession. "Oh, Rory..."

"I mean, we already knew we weren't going to get married until we were both done with school," the young man continued, seemingly feeling like he had to clarify his point. "But I always thought that on my seventeenth birthday, I would ask her. Like, make it official and such. Something to get us through our last few Reapings." He looked down at his feet, a small smile on his lips, but it was a smile that had lost its shine. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I don't think she was expecting it..."

He let out a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul. "I just... Sorry, I'm just feeling weird because I didn't get to see her today, and now visiting hours are over and it's too late."

Madge wanted nothing more than to give him a big hug. She couldn't imagine how anyone, at seventeen, could know what they wanted for the rest of their life. The most she could wish for at that age was to stay alive past her eighteenth birthday. But looking at Rory— he was just a boy, but she didn't doubt for a second he knew exactly what he wanted... and what he wanted, he might yet lose. She knew it wasn't the right time or place to try to comfort him; it wouldn't do to alert everybody else that Rory wasn't enjoying their little get-together. But there was one thing she could do for him. "Come with me," she said, with a side-nod of her head toward the exit.

Rory looked taken aback by her sudden eagerness to leave. "Uh, didn't you just remind me this is my party? I don't think Ma would appreciate it if I just up and disappear on them..."

She just gave him an amused smile and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him into movement. "Just come on."

He kept asking her where they were going until they made it all the way down to the (now closed for visitors) medical bay. When Madge took out her keycard and opened the sliding doors, it became more than obvious what they were doing, and it made him promptly quiet down, expectant. Madge's status as President Coin's assistant gave her security clearance to more than just Command, which was more than other ranking officers could say (Katniss, for example, was given permission to come in and out of the medical bay as she wished, because she was staying with Prim, but she still had to check in every time), and she was glad she could help Rory this way.

They walked into Prim's room and Rory's feet propelled him toward the bed like he was drawn by a magnet. He sat in his usual chair, picking one of Prim's hands between his own and giving it a reverent kiss. "I love you," he started, and it was clear with just those three words that he was pouring his entire heart into this moment. "And I want to marry you. For real. Not just two kids playing house, or two idiot teens thinking 'maybe someday.' I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

Madge could see him softly caressing her hand, as he entwined his fingers with hers. "I love you," he repeated. "But you have to..." He cut himself off, drawing in a rapid gasp of breath. "I'm gonna need an answer soon, okay? I mean, you can't leave a guy hanging forever. That wouldn't be nice." He shook his head. "Prim, you have to... you have to open your eyes. You have to come back to us, please..."

His voice caught, the desperation and sadness obvious in his tone, and as he leaned his forehead against their joined hands, Madge felt the urge to look away, knowing that she was intruding in a truly intimate moment that should be just between the two of them. She thought maybe she should step outside and let him have this, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave him alone, in case he needed emotional support. So she stood by the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, trying to give them as much privacy as she could while still being in the room.

He didn't say much more. He simply remained there in silence for a couple of minutes, as if he were hoping Prim's mere proximity was enough to blow a new breath of hope into him. Madge simply waited, discreetly wiping stray tears off her cheeks. She'd been crying a lot lately; they'd had such an emotional couple of weeks.

And then out of the blue, Rory unexpectedly sprung back, dropping Prim's hand and standing up so abruptly that his chair got pushed at least a foot back, with the legs producing a loud screeching sound as they scraped against the floor. Madge immediately grew alarmed. "What happened?"

"She just— she squeezed my hand!" Rory exclaimed as he looked down at Prim's still form in utter disbelief.

"What?" the exclamation shocked her. She rushed closer to the bed, her heart beating a mile per hour. She looked Prim from head to toe, as if to corroborate the claim, but as far as she could see, the girl hadn't moved an inch. "Rory, that can't be. Are you sure you—"

"Yes!" he interrupted her before she could dismiss the incident as a misconstruction. "I didn't just imagine it, okay? I'm telling you: I felt it! Madge," he grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing in tandem with his words as if emphasizing his point. His eyes were wide and bright with shock, and fear, and excitement, and certainty. "Madge, I think she's waking up. We need to call the doctor—"

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity, with medical personnel rushing around the room to check every machine for a status update and all their family and friends piling into the tiny compartment to wait on baited breath for an explanation for what just happened.

Hopes were high for almost a half hour as the medics worked on Prim, but that all dissipated as most of the medical team filed out and Prim's doctor turned to them with a solemn expression. "I'm afraid there's really no change in her condition. She probably did experience some movement," the woman added when it seemed that Rory was about to interrupt, "but this is not uncommon on coma patients. Depending on their situation on the coma scale, some patients do present some response to outside stimuli. Prim is a 6; it's consistent with her initial diagnosis for her to exhibit small, involuntary movement. It doesn't necessarily mean she's waking up."

"But it's still a good thing, right?" It was Peeta who spoke. "The fact that she can still move. If she's moving now when before she didn't, that must mean she's getting better." Clearly, he had been thinking a lot about this. Madge knew he'd been the first one to talk to the doctor about Prim's condition, right when they first brought her back to Thirteen, so it wasn't surprising he understood the details.

"It may be," the doctor replied sincerely. "We can't be sure. Like I said, these movements might be completely involuntary. We'll have to keep statistically monitoring her motor response to know if there's a trend or a pattern. We've been periodically performing motor tests in preparation, in case the procedure for consciousness induction is approved by her proxy, but—"

"I want you to wake her up." This time it was Katniss who intervened. She'd been staring almost unblinkingly at Prim for the entire time the group had been in the room, saying nothing, and nobody had really been expecting her to speak up at all, but her sudden declaration brought all other chatter to silence. "The procedure to wake her up. I want you to do it."

"If that's your official approval, we can proceed as soon as the preparation is complete and she's deemed stable enough," the doctor let her know. "We already had a tentative schedule for her testing. I will need you to sign the consent form and then everything should proceed as planned."

"I'll get the form to her," Madge immediately offered. She had the required paperwork drafted ages ago, just needed to print and collect Katniss's signature for it to be filed through proper channels.

The doctor nodded at her. "It shouldn't take more than a month," the woman added, for the benefit of everyone who was confused by this "preparation" notion. Then she turned to Katniss again. "I must remind you once more that even if all the tests come back showing a positive trend, there is still a relatively high risk involved. We cannot guarantee the procedure will work, or what consequences will be incurred if it doesn't."

"I understand," she said, but she shook her head as if there was no swaying her decision. Clearly, she had come to some sort of revelation upon hearing Prim could move. "If she's still in there... if she can hear us and respond to us, that means she can still wake up. So we have to try. I can't— I can't let her down. Not if she's trying to come back."

After a few more technical issues were discussed, and everybody present was reassured that the medics were doing all they could for Prim, the group started leaving the room, somehow feeling both deflated and hopeful at the same time, if such a thing was possible.

Katniss took up her usual chair by Prim's bedside. Rory bent down to give Prim a kiss on her forehead before heading out as well, leaving his sister-in-law and his fiancée (because, really, as if Prim would ever turn him down... she had already said yes in the only way she could, as far as Madge was concerned) in the small room, accompanied only by the sound of the machines beeping in the background.

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Author's notes!— Surprise! Gale finally stopped being completely uncooperative, which means I finally finished writing chapter 37. Now, prayer circle so that 38 doesn't take me three freaking years to write.

Also, I should point out that I wrote this chapter years ago, and therefore Madge's comment about universal health care has nothing whatsoever to do with the debate currently happening in the country that will eventually become Panem. That is all.