A/N: I am so, so sorry this took so long to update. I wrote most of this tonight. I didn't have computer access long enough to write, and if I did, I wasn't alone. This switches to Katniss's POV for a bit. If you like it, I'll do it. Otherwise, I'd like to keep to Gale. Without further ado, Chapter Three, A False Sense of Security!

Silence accompanies us through the forest. Only the soft sounds of the birds interrupt our thoughts. My mind is racing; a million different things are flooding my brain, not leaving a millisecond for me to process them before another one comes in. Most of them aren't unusual. They are the same ones that have been intruding into my thoughts at every given time, most of them asking: why? A good amount are yelling, jeering at me, telling me that I'm a jerk, a coward, that I should be dead… but I want to be dead…

But there are the new ones, too. Ones that include new waves of pain, more accusations at me, some are even plans on how I can get out of this situation that no one should have to suffer through. Except me. I deserve to suffer. But I don't want to bring anyone down with me. If Katniss is happy without me, let it be so. It has broken me down, and it can break me a thousand times as long as I'm not causing her any more pain. I'll be gone before anyone even realizes I'm missing…Heck, I could turn around right now and walk away and Katniss, who is lost in thought and dead to the world, wouldn't know I was gone until she reached the fence and didn't see me standing next to her. It's tempting, oh-so tempting, but I can't. Maybe this is a second chance. My last chance to make something good happen in the world. I relax. Only a little. But knowing that I might be able to change my life for the better calms me. At this point, I don't think my life could get any worse.

Katniss

When I first saw Gale standing on that rock, noose around his neck, I just about fell to my knees in despair. Life had finally turned the tables on me, and my life was starting to get better. But I knew that if I did, the boy with the snares would no longer be. So I didn't. I wasn't paying attention to anything but getting him to come with me. I succeeded in that. So now, I'm walking next to the boy who I used to call my best friend, alone in the forest, finally able to concentrate on his physical state.

I can count his ribs from twenty feet away. He's been starving himself; but for what, I can't tell. Either way, he's bone thin, worse than when we were living on the animals we hunted. His hair is long, like he hasn't tended to it in months, years maybe. Along with the rest of him, his hair is streaked with dirt and grime. The worst part about him is his eyes. The grey eyes that once burned with a fire of hatred are now dead, full of grief and misery. Those sunken, hollow grey eyes will haunt me, I can tell. One question nags at me: What has driven him to do this? I thought he had a life in District Two; it was one of the only things that made me feel ok with how I left him…

We slip through the fence, me bringing up the rear. I walk with him, side by side, to my house. I open the door and let Gale in, closing and locking it behind me. I'm not sure how much I can trust him.

Gale

Katniss leads me to the living room. She leaves to get wood to stock the fire, returning a few minutes later with the materials. I see a flash of metal slip out her sleeve. I figure it's a watch or something. She slips it back up her sleeve and kneels down to the fire. In a moment, a fire is roaring. I stand around awkwardly, not sure of my next move. She sits, and tells me to sit across from her. I consent. She crosses her arms timidly, and says:

"I just don't get it, Gale. I thought you had a life, a job in Two."

I laugh quietly. Life in Two was hell. No one had a heart to tell her what had really happened. I reply bitterly, "There was no job. I shut myself away; they tried to come out and live again, but I was, and still am, dead. Dead spiritually, if you follow."

She stares at me, mouth open. She doesn't get it yet. That's what I'm hoping for. Just give her a sample of my thoughts, not enough to really understand, and then I'll leave her unscarred. I don't want her to carry any of my suffering.

"But why, Gale?"

I start explaining, once again holding my thoughts, holding my tongue. But, once I start I can't stop. The weight has been on my shoulders far too long. All my thoughts, all my reasons for suffering, every single thing that's been on my mind since the war ended comes spilling out before I can stop myself. What meant to be a few minutes, a couple sentences, turns into an hour of my personal confessions. It feels comforting, almost to know that I don't have to keep my tongue anymore. I finish, and look into Katniss's eyes. To my utmost horror, they reflect my grief. I've made her understand. A new shockwave of guilt courses through me. I get up and sprint for the door. I have to go. She realizes what I'm doing the second I do, and as my hand flies to the doorknob, she grabs the wrist of my free hand.

She looks up into my eyes, a new sadness reflected in her eyes. The sadness of self-sins. She holds a syringe in her hand. That would be that metal thing I mistook for a piece of jewelry.

"I'm sorry, Gale."

My eyes widen with horror. That traitor... She tricked me... I laugh bitterly. It's exactly what I would have done. I walk backwards into the wall, trying to avoid whatever medicine is in that syringe. I'm trapped. That's what she expected me to do. I try to push her away, but she is faster than I am. As i reach out to shove her down, she stabs the needle into my arm. Damn.

My vision goes dark, and fades to black in an instant. I feel my body crumple to the floor before I lose consciousness.