Part 3

Gale slips out of the room as silent as a wolf with only Thom's sword in his hand and the echoes of Madge's "no's" ringing in his ears. He felt awful, he really did. He didn't want to leave her alone with only Thom; he doesn't want her to worry about him either. But he couldn't leave Finnick either. Finnick had always been there for him – he was the one to train him and he's the one that was always by his side every time Seamlyn was attacked. They fought together, they were Brothers of War.

Gale immediately presses his back against the wall, slowly inching his way forward like Finnick had taught him to do. Gale keeps the sword poised and ready for anything that would come his way. He keeps his hunter's ear perked. Like before, metal against metal continues to clang and the smell of blood was pungent. He just hopes it wasn't Finnick's blood among the others.

A spike of fear strikes Gale's stomach. What if Finnick was dead? What would he do when he got down there? Run? Continue the fight Finnick was trying to win all by himself? Guess he'd just have to see when he got down there.

It didn't take long. He rounded the corner of the stairwell, becoming visible to everyone, and the first thing he saw was Finnick's bronze hair shining in the array of falling shards of a glass chandelier. A loud explosion of another gas powered chandelier erupted from some barbarian (could you really call someone in a snow white uniform barbaric?) throwing one of the candlelit torches lining the hallway at it.

Finnick looks at up, memorized by the falling shards for a moment too long.

"Finnick!" Gale yells, his voice ripping raw up his throat as he watches another man go charging at his friend. Gale didn't know when his feet started moving, but he didn't have too. All he knew was that he needed to get to Finnick and guide them away from Madge and Thom. He had to keep her safe; he had to keep them both safe, but he also needed to keep Finnick safe, too.

Gale lunges at the man, throwing himself sword first. The shining silver plunges deep into the man's stomach. Instantly the white uniform had a circle of rapidly spreading red around the swords blade. Gale glances up, despite his better judgment, and comes face to face with a wide eyed man with a look of pure terror in his eyes. It startles Gale to the core – the terror – it was rooted so deep in the man's eyes, shaking them both to the core. The man was looking at Gale, but looking through him. He had emerald green eyes that had the most beautiful light green center; the green only grew darker the further away it was from the pupil. They were stunning and Gale had just killed those eyes.

But it wasn't his eyes or his now lack of life that would haunt Gale, it was the string of words that the man whispered in his last dying breath, "Capitola and Seamlyn will not stand much longer." And then the man slumps over, sliding off the sword with a heavy, dead thud.

"Thanks." Finnick says.

"Anytime!" Gale jerked his head towards the hallway he was running up earlier, Finnick nods, understanding. With his own barbaric yell, Finnick dives through the crowd, his sword slicing up and down and around the entire time. Gale followed soon after, taking the outside of the ring. With each new man dead on the floor, the angrier the group got. Gale tries to push away that sentence from his mind to fight, but was like it was a chain around his thoughts, unforgiving and unrelenting.

Soon enough Gale and Finnick were back to back, swinging their swords out at an attacker when they were brave enough to try to attack the pair. This was how Gale and Finnick liked to fight. They wanted to be cornered. They had a record of never being beaten and everyone in the lands knew this. As if they were dancing with the devil, they would slam their sword respectably through the poor souls that thought they stood a chance.

"Oh, I see you're more concerned with the Princess's safety than my own." Gale says randomly, slamming his back into Finnick's. Finnick, regardless of the situation they were in, laughed lightly.

"Yeah sorry about that, but the King would have my head if his dearest Princess was found dead."

"And my father wouldn't have your head for mine?" Gale rolled his eyes before lunging forwards and stabbing two men through the stomach with Thom's sword, pulling back so his back was pressed against Finnick's.

"There's no one here to account for how you died."

It was Gale's turn to laugh, "You're horrible!"

"You still love me." you could hear the smug smile in his words. Finnick was a great guy, a little too cocky, but he knew how to fight. That was for sure. And Gale trusted him like he trusted no one else.

Being the Crown Prince made it hard for Gale to trust people. Everyone always wanted something from him. Whether it is a kiss, a picture, an autograph, it was always something. They didn't want him, they wanted his power, his position, his title (Mrs. Crown Princess was a big one). It made him feel sick. Everyone in Seamlyn knew of his arranged marriage. It wasn't uncommon for Royal's to "exchange" their children to create and/or strengthen alliances. And right now, and possibly forever, Seamlyn needed protection.

But Finnick never treated Gale like a Royal. He treated him like a friend – a best friend. Outside of the maids and butlers and cooks, Gale didn't have many friends (it was always advised against it), let alone any his age. Being a Royal was tough, but Finnick made it easier. Finnick was only a few years older and would always pick on Gale, and not take any of his shit, and taunt him about the pretty girls checking him out, but that was normal, teenage things like that. Things that the outside world robbed him of.

So of course, Gale loved Finnick like a brother. It was just how they worked out. Being as good as friends as they are, it makes it a lot easier to fight a battle alongside someone you trust and knows has your back. That's why they worked so well.

"Yeah, I do." Gale mutters under his breath. "I sometimes wonder why, though." It might not have been intentional, or maybe it was, but Finnick drilled his elbow into Gale's ribs harshly. Despite the pain, Gale smiled, but his smile would soon disappear.

They continue to fight with ease, only minor contradictions setting them back. But somehow, Gale had this nasty pit growing in the depths of his stomach that he couldn't shake off. It nagged at him like that dying sentence was nagging him. With each second ticking by, it grew bigger, strong, and more prevalent. It was starting to feel like someone had shot a cannonball into his stomach.

"Are you okay?" Finnick asks, "You seem to be slowing down?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…I think?" The latter part was whispered, confusion filling his head. He knew he shouldn't be focusing on something as nonchalant as the sinking feeling in his stomach, but he couldn't help it. And he was right, he should've kept his focus trained on the fight for seconds later a piercing pain erupting in his stomach from the outside in.

It started as a deep rooted pain that centralized in the left side of his stomach, slowly becoming more and more painful until his entire body felt a flood of pain. He knew what happened before the first drop of blood stained his shirt. He had been shot. An arrow through the stomach… A slow death…

A belated grunt escapes his lips. His vision blurs and his stomach lurches in pain and nausea.

He had been shot…

He had been shot…

I have been shot…

That's all he could think about, it was all he could feel. He tried to fight, swing his sword out blindly and halfheartedly, but everyone notices how he was beginning to slow down. He himself could tell he was losing it. He couldn't fight much longer, but somehow the world wasn't in his favor today.

"Hold on, buddy." Finnick says. There are only a few more barbarians left trying to attack them. Finnick could easily hold them off, but the thing is…they didn't need to hold them off; they needed them to perish into thin air. Neither one of them was stupid enough to think that these were the last ones in the castle, they both knew there was far more. This was only the first wave, the runts that blindly gave their lives for a cause they hardly knew anything about. The brave souls that hadn't experience war yet.

With one last final stab to the last man standing and then one to the stomach, Gale was leaning heavily on Finnick. Finnick had wrapped an arm around Gale's waist, his arm running diagonal up to his chest. Gale groans deeply in his throat when Finnick shifts him as gently as possible so Gale had an arm around Finnick's shoulder. Slowly, they stumble up the stairs again, Gale giving out poor directions even though it was simply one turn. His vision was blurring in and out in forceful waves, which in return causes his stomach to roll like the ocean outside of the castle's windows.

Once inside the room, Finnick deposits Gale on the bed. "Now this is gonna hurt like hell, but –"

Gale cuts him off, "Just do it." His words slur like he's a drunken bird in the morning. He leans his head back against the plush material of the bed and braces himself for the pain that's about to come. You just got to rip off a Band-Aid, right?

Gale's fingers dig into the bedding and his head rolled back, his back arching in pure pain as Finnick eases the arrow out of his stomach. Instantly, blood is gushing out in wild waves that soak his shirt. With his shirt soaking wet, it's making it harder to get out because his shirt in sticking to the wound. "Just get it out!" he screams, gasping after as if the life is being sucked out of him, his vision blurring violently.

Suddenly, like something had possessed him, he grips Finnick's arms fiercely, his fingernails digging in. He sucks in one big breath, his lungs quivering, "Tell me I'm going to make it, please, just tell me I'm going to make it!" Gale's voice is frantic. When his vision clears again, Finnick's face levels out. But what Gale seems in those eyes aren't hope and encouragement, its despair. Gale's stomach sinks.

"I don't know. We need to find the others. Just…just hold on." Gale's eyes follows Finnick's to the ever growing red spot on his white button down. His eyes widen for a second before he nods harshly.

"Pull the dresser out; there should be a crawlspace behind." Finnick obeys, slowly drawing the dresser out so it doesn't make any unnecessary noises. He gets on his knees and uses all his strength to twist the valve. With a final grunt, it gives away. Gale slides himself off the bed gently, crawling his way over to the crawlspace.

"Gently go through the crawlspace." Gale nods and begins crawling through the tight space. Much like Thom did, Finnick pulls the dressers back into place. He maneuvers like a dog for a moment to turn around, backing up and then turning some and then backing up again in the tiny space. They continued forth.

It was all silent, except for the slapping of the bare hands on the chilled metal interior. The longer they moved the more labored Gale's breathing became.

"If you need – "

"No!" he snaps. The continued on in silence.

The pit in his stomach was forming again like it did earlier in battle. He couldn't decide whether or not it was because he was injured or because something wrong was about to happen. It seems the latter was always going to happen today.

Before he knew it, he yelps in surprise as the ground beneath his hands suddenly disappears and he's falling face first into some pit. His first thoughts…the barbarians have trapped them. He's second thought: If Thom and Madge went this way it couldn't hurt him. It must be set in place to protect them once they got to their safe haven.

"Gale…ahh!" Finnick falls through the hole, landing harshly on Gale's legs.

"I'm already hurt enough, you no good for nothing clown!"

Groaning, "Sorry." he mutters.

They stagger around in the dark, Gale trying to fight through the hazing pain. Finnick mutters something that Gale can't understand but soon enough cool metal is under his hands again as he leans heavily against it. Pressing his cheek against it, he groans softly.

"Open up! Open up!" The air becomes eerily still. The two men could hear the pumping of their hearts in the still, heavy air. It smells musty down here. "God damn it, Thom, open up!" Finnick's voice was filling up with rage. In the dim lighting, Gale could see the endless abyss of wrath burning in the pupils of his friend's eyes.

"Who goes there?" Thom's deep voice yells.

Finnick punches the air in frustrations, "Screw you, dude – "

Gale doesn't let him get that far. When Finnick goes on a rant you might as well grab a cup of tea and a novel because you're going to be there a long time.

"Thomas Grayland, you have a birthmark on your ass that is shaped like a pineapple! You showed me two days ago and it doesn't look anything like a pineapple at all!"

Not even a minute later, the lock slides open. Gale didn't even have time to push himself off the door, his body flopping ungracefully to the floor in a heap.

Madge's eyes widen in horror, her body becoming endless still, almost like she was frozen for all of eternity in that position. Her mouth opens and closes in an unladylike fashion and she seems to have been sent into shock at the sight of her fiancé.

"What – w-what…" she trails off, her voice shakes like the glass chandeliers did before they exploded into a million tiny shards in the hall.

"He was shot, I don't know if he'll make it."

Finnick's words seep heavily into Madge's heart. She felt like she couldn't breathe, it was like the air was no longer there and the world had robbed her of the most important thing she needed to live. All she could see was blood blood blood. It was everywhere. Everywhere she looked, she could even smell its metallic scent in the air. It makes her stomach squeeze painfully in her abdomen. Madge shallows thickly and forces herself over to Gale's form. Finnick and Thom had lifted Gale out of the doorway and over to a small set of cloths in the corner. Finnick was gently trying to peel off Gale's shirt while Thom rummaged in the storage room adjacent (no door) to the room they were in for medical supplies.

Her feet were heavy with each step. She felt like gravity was gone and she was forced to lift her dead weight legs up and down in order to get to her dear soon-to-be-husband. She clasps her hand around Finnick's shoulder and stares down at Gale, whose face is crumpled in pain and he's withering slightly.

"Thom?" she's startled by her own voice, it comes out stronger than she thought was possible in a situation like this, "Is there a blanket over there that we could wrap around his shoulders? We need to keep him warm." Madge tries to think about to all the times she had to take care of her mother when her mother's illness got to be too much for her to handle by herself. Her mother always had the chills when she was sick and Madge and her father always made sure she had a blanket to wrap up in. Now, Gale's and her mother's situation was completely different, but if Madge knew one thing about anything medical, it was that you had to keep your patient warm so they don't go into shock. They definitely didn't want that to happen.

Thom continues to rummages through the supplies, eventually throwing over a thick, gray blanket to wrap around Gale's shoulders.

Madge and Finnick were silent for a long time. It wasn't your average I'm-worried-about-him silence, it was a deep, heavy, slightly awkward silence of two people who hardly know each other and only know each other by name, but is currently worried about a mutual friend type of awkward silences. Madge glances at Finnick, only to find him staring back at her, deep regret in his eyes.

"I'm deeply sorry, Princess. I didn't mean to get him harmed. It is all my fault." His voice comes out slow and you could hear the sincerity in it.

Madge re-places her hand on Finnick's shoulder, "It is alright. He would not blame you, therefore, I will not blame you. You did what you could."

"But you could not have known!"

"Finnick," she whispers, "It does not matter what you did or didn't do. The moment has passed, the events have happened. I do not blame you."

Finnick's lips were parted and he looked a little stunned. He didn't say anything for the longest time. His eyes stayed glued to hers and Madge could see a thousand thoughts flying through his mind at record's speed.

"I – um…" he scratches the back on his neck, his fingers curling around the base of his neck after, he dips his head, "Thank you…Princess."

"You're a good man, Finnick. Do not forget that." She says, her eyes lingering on his for another moment before looking back at Gale. Gale's face was sweaty and was an ashy gray color. His breathing was still labored and the blood was still seeping profusely out of the wound. Madge's stomach squeezes painfully again. God, she hopes he'll be alright. She doesn't know what she will do without Gale Hawthorne.

She takes his hand in hers, tightly. She draws his always cold fingers to her lips and presses a dainty kiss to his knuckles, "I love you. God, I love you." She whispers against his knuckles, tears slowly welding up in her eyes like a rainstorm about to turn into a thunderstorm.

After that it seems like the world moves in slow motion. Thom eventually finds the medicine kit and eventually they manage to stop Gale's bleeding. It took a while to stop the bleeding, Thom's and Finnick's hands were coated in blood and everyone's stomach rolled at the disgusting scent by the end of it. Gale passes out from the pain that had ridden his body and ultimately his breathing soothes out to a minimal amount of forced labor.

But that didn't stop Madge from worrying. Her stomach was in a constant knot and she couldn't decide if her heart was beating too fast or too slow. And every time his breathing shutters and rattles in his chest her own constricts, thinking that maybe that was his last one. It was an endless circle of what ifs and silent pleading for with whoever above was listening.

Time seems infinitely slow when something horrible happens when really it's moving at a speed you cannot process. Everything horrible happens in a nanosecond, but the waiting…the waiting never ends. Of course it does eventually, but it feels like you're in an infinite, boundless void of nothing but dark thoughts and black times. You can try to think of happy thoughts all you want, but those crippling dark thoughts are always there, always waiting, and always ready to wrap around you like a prisoner's chains. It's endless and everything all at the same time.

That's what Madge felt, like the endless loopy loop of her life had derailed and now it was just falling falling falling into the black abyss of who-knows-what and where it will end. And finding out you're in love with a man at a time like this isn't the easiest on the heart. Actually, it makes your heart beat fast and slow at the same times, makes it pumps powerfully and weakly, and the steady thump of your heart is the constant reminder that you will live and the other may not.

She didn't even know it was possible to love a man as much as she loves Gale. She didn't even know she could love another breathing, living thing as much as she loved him.` It bewildered her and excited her at the same time. But it also worried her because if he died it would only make this moment so much harder. She couldn't decide if she wanted to worry about him dying or obsessing if she said those three little words too fast.

"Why don't you get some rest, Princess?" Finnick said from behind her, his hands rest gently on her shoulders, giving a light squeeze. She looks up tiredly at him, her eyelids drooping with sleep. She shook her hand no anyways.

"I cannot –" she yawns, "I cannot leave him."

Thom kneels down by Gale's head. His fingers gently searching for a pulse point. It was there, thankfully, but weak. It didn't worry Thom too much, it was steady enough that as Gale gained strength again it would become stronger.

"You aren't leaving him, Princess. No one's going anywhere…at least until morning." Thom lets out a yawn of his own, turning his head to side and covering his mouth. He too felt the weight of the day taking its toll on him. He blinds hard a few times to wake himself up.

"You two rest, I'll take the first watch…just in case something happens." He adds when Thom and Madge glance curiously at the steel door Gale and Finnick entered what feels like a lifetime ago.

Thom nods and gets up to find the extra furs in the storage room. He begins to set up two beds – one for Madge and one for Thom and Finnick to switch using – near Gale.

"Go." Finnick says gently, flexing his fingers back and forth, beckoning her towards Thom. "I'm not going to hurt him Madge," a big goofy smile fills his face, "the worst I will do is kiss right on the lips!"

A small smile of her own tugs sleepily on her lips, she sticks her index finger out and points harshly at Finnick's chest. "Those lips are mine!" Madge crawls over to the pile of furs that isn't currently occupying Thom's body. She takes off the first layer and flips it over to use the fluffy side as a blanket before bunching up a few to form a makeshift pillow. She curls up on the blanket and grabs Gale's hand in her own. Madge rubs her thumb over his knuckles and looks at him in the dim light.

She has looked at him a thousand times while he slept, but then he looked peaceful and young. Here he just looks broken and weak. Drawling his fingers once again to her lips, she kisses them sweetly, letting the coldness seep into her lips as she drifts off.

The next morning, her father is shaking her awake. He has a bandage above his eye but he looks ultimately okay. She glances quickly over to wear Gale was supposed to be lying to find to Peeta and a group of men (including Finnick and Thom) lifting Gale up slowly and carefully off the ground. He seems to still be asleep, which causes Madge to worry that something is seriously wrong with him.

"Shh, shh," her father, the King, brushes her hair out of her face. Her eyes instantly go to his crystal blue ones, finding understanding and comfort, "He'll be okay. He took quite the hit! He just needs a few days to recover, that's all, Madgie." She feels exhausted, despite the fact that she slept all through the night. And her father's words weren't helping. He was going to make it, but he wasn't okay.

Peeta turns to her, a smile that's always there was there, "Breakfast will be served soon, Princess. It's your favorite! Strawberries waffles with whipped cream!" That makes Madge smile slightly. Picking herself off the ground, her father wraps a coat around her shoulders. They ascend the stairs quietly behind the group carrying Gale.

At the top of the stairs is Madge's mom and Aunt May stand, both dressed in long sweaters and slippers and looking worst for wear than Madge felt. Queen Undersee's arms wrap around Madge the second she's within reach.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" she whispers, squeezing Madge a little too tight. Madge doesn't mind, she hasn't felt her mother hug her this tight since she was a little girl. It was nice.

"How about a bath!?" Aunt May offered. Madge nods gratefully. She's alright thinking about how well the warm, sudsy water and perfumed bubble bath will feel. The three women move up to the King and Queen Undersee's master bedroom. The three women strip down to the underwear and bra and slip into the massive tub, all of them sighing as the warm water loosens their muscles.

The Queen is the first one to interrupt the blissful silence, "Honey?"

"Hmm?" Madge sighs.

"I feel like we haven't talked in a while." Uh-oh, that's never good. That means Queen Undersee wanted answers and answers she shall get. May snickers but otherwise stays silent. "You and Gale seem awful close…"

"We are engaged to be married, mom." Madge raises her eyebrow.

"Alright, since you're not catching my drift," she rolls her eyes, "Are you still a virgin?"

Madge's eyes widen to the size of saucers and her cheeks are probably the color of Gale's blood. Her mouth gaps open and close like a dying fish. "M-m-m, uh, mom, I –I – I…"

Queen Undersee quirks her eyebrows and crosses her arms over her chest, "Well." Madge nods yes, not trusting her voice.

"Yes!"

"Mmmhmm…" a smirk crosses her mother's lips. "That's not what Thom said." Thom was going to die.