AN: Sorry, I went in to fix something and ended up re-posting chapter 6 from Redux. Meh.

Chapter 6

Madge's POV

"Stop it," I moan, blindly trying to block whatever is tapping my cheek. The irritant ceases.

"Welcome back," I hear Gale intone. "Thanks for the heart attack."

"Huh?" Did I go somewhere? And heart attack… My fuzzy mind tries to process around the tiny anvils at work in my head. If Gale is having a heart attack…then I should call for emergency medical assistance. I should get up. I'm not standing, am I? My eyes crack open. I see a wall of darkness and feel my hands pressed between it and my body. I rub my fingertips over it – fabric. Cotton. Whatever the thread count is…well, it's low. Slowly, my eyes travel upward. The slight movement makes me wince as my head aches. At first it looks like a halo hovers around Gale's head. But no, that couldn't be.

And it isn't a halo, just backlighting from Ethel's cabin that spills out in a crescent outside the corvette. Slowly it comes together. I'm sitting across Gale's lap while his arms hold me up. I mistook his shirt for the wall of darkness.

"I'd save you," I mumble, squinting into his dark, gray eyes, "but I feel sick."

"Save me?" His face crinkles with confusion.

"From heart failure."

"That's just an expression, Madge. You haven't actually caused my heart to stop."

"Oh." I look away, but not at the light. It hurts my eyes.

"Although…never mind," he mutters. "Uh, you'll feel lousy for a bit. Got a nice bump on your head."

My lips spread into a goofy smile. A nice bump? I don't know what he's talking about, but it sounds nice. "Did you kiss me?" I ask without thinking. And in the next few seconds when I do think about it, I have a feeling that maybe I shouldn't have said it.

Gale laughs silently. I can feel it shaking his shoulders and chest, and in the gentle puffs of air stirring my hair. "Thought about it, but no." I can hear him smirking. One of his hands takes mine and my heart speeds up. I think he's about to bring it to his lips, but then he guides it up to my left ear. Two inches above the top of my earlobe is the knobbiest lump that has ever made an appearance on my skull. Oh. It doesn't seem very nice at all.

"I feel sick." I think I've said it before, but it seems worth repeating.

"Would that make you sick? If I kissed you?" he asks.

My cheeks burn a little in conjunction with the acrobats in my stomach. "That's not what I meant." I try to move but something holds me back, and it's not just my equilibrium on the fritz. A sinewy arm with thin scars hiding underneath a layer of fine, black hair hooks around my waist, pinning me against the cotton shirt, or rather, Gale. "If you didn't kiss me, how did we get like this?"

"You keeled over."

"Unconscious?" My voice sounds strangled.

"Yeah. For about ten minutes," he tells me as he kneads the back of his neck. "Once is enough, so maybe you should hold still for a while."

I droop against his chest, feeling completely embarrassed. And unnerved. Might as well add that to the mix.

But I say, "I'm thirsty." The dryness in my mouth increases as I imagine the water bottles I packed, now lying useless somewhere. Stupid Ethel. I glower in her general direction.

Bad idea. Facial movement equals brain fireworks and violent stomach whirlpools.

"I'll find some. Right now you'd better take it easy," he says. I believe him. "Here, have some of this."

I feel him twist to reach for something behind us. I clutch his shirt for an anchor. The sounds of rummaging remind me of the backpack that didn't escape with the others. Gale turns back around, then he places a slim, plastic packet in my hand. Fruit leather. I stare at the cabin light winking off the red strawberry logo. I want water, not this.

Gale leans forward, reaching for it again, and squeezing me between his two arms while he opens the packet. Cozy. Then he hands it back to me with the plastic peeled down like a banana.

"Eat it," he orders.

"I'm not hungry," I tell him. "I feel dizzy."

"Keep your blood sugar up," he says. "It'll help with the headache."

My nose wrinkles. "Are you sure?"

"No." He shrugs. "It couldn't hurt, though."

Grudgingly, I take a bite of the thin, red strip, which I packed thinking I'd have better food. Like marshmallows and chocolate that some blessed raccoon is probably enjoying right now. "It doesn't taste as good as fresh strawberries, but it travels better," I mutter to myself.

Gale purses his lips. "You had quite a taste for strawberries, I recall."

"Uh. You could say that," I reply. More like I had a taste for seeing Gale on my back stoop on a regular basis. After school let out at the beginning of summer, it was my only excuse for seeing him. The fresh fruit was an expensive bonus.

When I've swallowed the last bite, my stomach growls. There's nothing like eating when you aren't hungry to make you realize that you are.

"I want another one."

He laughs again. "Sorry, we're on a strict diet until I figure out where our next meal will come from."

"Did Peeta and Katniss leave the cookies?" I ask hopefully.

"No."

"Oh." Then I ask, "Did you eat?" I hold up the empty wrapper.

"Not yet," he answers.

"Aren't you hungry?" I frown, feeling guilty for eating when he won't.

"I'm thirstier." Of course he is. We haven't had a drink of anything for hours.

"Sorry, Gale," I sigh, thinking about how badly I've messed this up for everyone. . "I'm entirely to blame. If we'd all just gone to Level 11—"

"Forget it, Madge" he says. "We've got to focus on taking care of you now. Unfortunately, we've got no ice, no painkillers, and no water. So, treatment's a little sketchy at this point." Then he smirks. "But there is one positive thing."

"What's that?" I ask, perking up a bit.

Gale's smile broadens, revealing strong, slightly misaligned teeth. Not as flashy as Quintus, but real. "You've got a definite diagnosis."

"Ugh." I cringe.

"What?" Gale blinks, all innocent or whatever. "That's usually the hardest part."

"Fine, be trivial," I grouse. "But I distinctly remember you saying that I gave you a heart attack."

"So you did." His arms fall away from my waist. "Do you think you can manage to stand up?"

I ask, "Where are we going?"

"I'm going." He points to himself and then to me. "You're staying."

"Why?"

His eyebrows arch, like the answer is obvious. "You need water, we all do, and that at least, I can find. But, uh, you're definitely not in any shape to tag along."

My eyes widen with the implication. "Are you leaving me alone?"

Gale pauses. He scratches his head and looks off into the pines. "I'll go find Katniss and Peeta, if that—"

"No! You can't," I cry, making my head twinge. Ouch. We sit still for a moment while the little hammers pounding away at my brain quiet down.

"Look," he murmurs eventually. "Whatever they've got going on over there is not as important as your health or safety."

I blink for a moment, taking in the…he said something sweet, right? "I could come with you." Maybe? "If I feel too sick, then you can leave me under a tree, I guess, but at least –"

"No." He helps me to my feet. My head feels like it's splitting. "Come on."

"Stop, Gale," I say while he props me up against his side and starts walking in the direction the others went. He pauses. "Everyone's always bugging Katniss and Peeta."

He frowns down at me. "Folks who ask Katniss to sign their babies' foreheads are a nuisance, I'll grant. An injured friend dropping in on their fun time, however, is a necessity."

My mind gets stuck on one part, though. How much fun are they having? I mean, I figured some kissing and stuff, but…I feel myself blush. "Does that bother you, at all?"

"What?" he asks, looking puzzled.

I shift uncomfortably. "That they're, you know, dating?"

Gale snorts. "They've been dating for two years. Why ask me now?"

"So does it?" I press.

He grows very still. "No."

"But you're not very nice to Peeta, and I thought, maybe..."

"I'm over Katniss. That doesn't mean that Peeta Mellark is my new BFF." He shrugs. "We're sorta different guys."

"I'll say," I mutter. And I'd sooner expect Peeta to say BFF...

Gale dusts himself off then takes my elbow. "Come on."

I balk. "Gale, what if I stayed in the hovercraft? I don't think I'd mind being alone in there."

"What if you pass out again and drown in a puddle of your own drool?" he replies.

"I promise not to." I plead, "Please don't make me go over there."

He half-grimaces. "I don't know…"

"I'll do a crossword puzzle so that I'll stay awake."

Gale looks skeptical, but agrees to let me stay by myself. He helps me up into the fuselage, then scoops up the backpack and blanket, throwing them down by the pilot seat. I sink into Peeta's chair, reaching under the seat to find one of those little white bags that's coated in wax. I clutch it to my chest as my stomach roils.

Meanwhile, Gale searches the hovercraft for empty bottles. Haymitch hides junk rather than throw it away, which I know because Hazelle regaled me with tales of housekeeping in Castle Abernathy. It works out in our favor, though, since we don't have anything else to hold water – at least nothing that's safe.

"Are you sorry for smashing that other bottle on Ethel?" I murmur when Gale picks up yet another half pint. "It was bigger."

He huffs.

"You can use my boots as jugs, if you want," I tease, watching while he does all the work.

"I'd sooner use Peeta's left boot," he retorts. "Then the water wouldn't taste like toes."

I giggle quietly—poor Peeta—and see a smile sliver across Gale's profile, while he's turned to look in a side compartment. My heart hiccups a little, which could totally be the symptom of a concussion. Except that I know better.

"I think that's it," Gale tells me while he stashes the bottles away inside of the backpack lying on the floor. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he pulls out the crossword puzzle book and hands it to me. Gale then picks pine needles off the blanket. I reach for it when it looks like he's about to hand it to me. But Gale ignores my hands, and drapes it over my legs himself, tucking it around my waist.

Whoa.

I blink at him, thrown off by the gallant gesture. Weren't we just arguing about who would get to use it a little while ago? "T-thanks," I stammer, thinking I should probably pass out more often.

"I'll be quick," he promises.

I whisper, "Okay." Though I bet we could be far from any water source, which makes my tongue feel like it's sticking to the roof of my mouth.

"I'm taking the flashlight, and if anything happens…"

"I'll be fine," I try to say with a stout voice, but it wavers. "You won't get lost, will you?"

"Me? No." Gale studies me a moment, then grabs the backpack and slings it on his shoulders. "I'll be back soon."

He slips out the hatch and disappears into the darkness. The beam from the flashlight appears and I watch until it outside of my range of sight.

I hear some crinkling and look down at the crossword puzzles. I relax my grip on them, then try to smooth out the crimped paper. Crap. I forgot to bring a pencil. There's always something.

…

I'm drinking tea with Quintus and Gale. They start shaking hands while I watch their knuckles turn white. In the other hand they each hold a cup, spilling tea all over the place while their arms bob up and down. Quintus's cup has a beautiful, hand-painted rose pattern, and is made of thin bone china. Gale's cup is not adorned in any way, but it sure is bigger. I start throwing scones at their heads to get them to stop arm wrestling, but then I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder –

And I wake up with a scream.

"Shh! Hell's teeth, it's just me." The hand clamps over my mouth. "You're splitting my ears."

"Gale?" I speak into his hand. It sounds like gahr.

"Who else?" he replies, removing his hand.

I glare. "I don't know. You can't just grab a girl's shoulder like that when she's sleeping." I slump in the chair, with my arms draped over the armrests in beatific sorrow. "I'm not well."

"Drink this," he orders, ignoring my dramatic display. He holds up one of the bottles and the cabin light twinkles off of it.

"Is that water?" I clutch it between both my hands and hug it to my chest. "You best – guy – ever!"

Gale snorts, averting his eyes. "Bump's addled you some."

He can twit me all he likes. I don't care. I twist off the cap as quickly as possible and down the bottle's contents in seconds. The water soothes my throat and unsticks my tongue. I can feel it spread a cool trail downward and pool in my stomach. Aaah. It's only after I finish the half pint that it occurs to me that the supply might need to last a while.

"Oops," I murmur. I look up at Gale and cringe. "Sorry."

Gale smiles. "S'okay. There's a stream less than a mile away." He holds out another bottle, but I'm reluctant to take it, despite my thirst. "I drank plenty from the stream."

"We should probably save some for Peeta and Katniss."

He shrugs. "They'll surface when they're thirsty enough. Unlike you, they can manage the hike."

So, I accept the water, and drink half of it. Gale slumps against the back of the pilot seat, and I notice how exhausted he looks. I'm tired, too, but I've had a nap. I start to peel the blanket off.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

I fold the blanket, albeit sloppily, and hold it up for him. My body feels cold from its absence. "Here, it's your turn."

Gale shakes his head. "No, Madge, I don't need it."

"It's not fair for me to have it and I've already gotten some sleep—" He smirks, reminding me of the promise not to fall asleep. "By accident. Besides, I'm starting to feel better already. At least, my head doesn't ache so much."

Gale frowns. "Don't need it."

"But—"

"Come, I'll show you." Gale offers me his hand and pulls me from the chair.

Outside, my eyes are immediately arrested by the welcome sight of a wood fire several yards away. And this time I'm dragging Gale along. I drop on my knees next to the backpack, tossing the blanket aside, and thrust my hands toward the flames. I feel the heated air against my face, and the answering flush on my cheeks. I breathe in the aroma of resin and wood smoke, and a contented sound emerges from the back of my throat. I love that smell.

It's what Gale…smells like. The thought acts like a starburst in my head. Then I realize that he's been standing there watching my ecstasy over the campfire. He casually leans toward the flames with his hands in his pockets. But his eyes look sharply on me.

"Thanks for all this," I say, indicating the water and fire and the blanket. Really. It's more than I deserve.

"It's fine, Madge," he says irritably. "Don't worry about it."

But I can't. I hang my head, thinking about my faults. "You said earlier that I made this mess, and you're right. Plus, I can't fix the situation or make it more comfortable for you guys, so here's the blanket. I want you to use it—"

Gale takes the blanket only to drop it in my lap again. "Look, I was angry when I said that stuff." He shrugs. "I'm over it. Keep the blanket. I'm warm enough with the fire."

I want to argue the point, but the stubborn set of Gale's jaw tells me it's not worth the effort. So I drape the blanket around my shoulders, but I also grab the backpack and take out a strawberry leather.

I hold it out to him. "Eat it."

He takes it wordlessly and I watch him eat the fruit snack till it's gone. Which doesn't take very long. Then I hand him the half-consumed bottle of water, which he balks at.

"I won't bother you anymore if you drink it," I promise him. "It'll ease my conscience."

Gale downs it all in one mouthful. He screws the top back on and throws the empty back in the bag.

"Now get some sleep," he tells me.

"Out here?" I ask, glancing around the ring of light from the fire. Wondering if any animals around here have a taste for young women?

"You can sleep in the hovercraft if you like, but it's warmer by the fire," Gale tells me, pivoting around toward Ethel.

"Right. Yeah."

A knowing grin creases his cheeks. "Scared of the big, bad wolves out there?"

Wolves?! I sniff weakly. "Not particularly."

His voice drops to a mock whisper. "Because I'll let you hold my hand if that helps."

"Ugh." I turn my back on him and lie down a safe distance from the sparks with the blanket covering my face. It takes a few minutes to root out all the little rocks and pine needles poking through my clothes, but the debris can't compete with injury-induced exhaustion.

…

I'm wakened by a piercing shriek a short way off. Heart pounding, my eyes fly open. It's pitch black save for the stars overhead and the soft, orange embers in the fire pit. A tree branch creaks as a creature swoops through the branches overhead, blocking out the stars, punctuated by anguished squeaks and the sound of heavily flapping wings.

The forest stills again and my breathing returns to normal.

An eerie yawp echoes through the distant trees.

Not distant enough. I bolt upright and scamper around the pit with the blanket flying behind me, to where Gale lies on his back. He tucked an arm under his head for a pillow, and the other is draped across his chest. I throw myself down in the space between him and the coals, and curl up in a ball so that every bit of me fits under the blanket. I shiver from nerves until my sides ache and I'm too drained to do anything but sleep.

…

Chill air brushes the side of my face, but my other cheek presses against something very warm. And breathing. Slowly, very slowly, I wake up lying on my side.

At first I only notice the grey tinge in the sky as dawn approaches. But then the cozy mattress I've sidled up to takes a deep breath and I realize that my arm is wrapped around a grey cotton-clad torso. A large, scarred hand clasps my forearm. I swallow as reality descends and a glance down reveals that my leg is hooked over Gale's. The part of the blanket that once covered my legs now puddles on the ground behind my knees.

I close my eyes and try to keep them that way. But my heart rate won't allow for sleep, and it's no use pretending because without a doubt, my accidental snuggle buddy can feel it hammering against his ribs.

So I do something scarier than wait for an animal to eat me – I look up until my eyes meet his dark grey pair.

Gale watches me with confusion, and maybe something else, written all over his face. My stomach dissolves. I feel certain that he wanted to wake up with me half on top of him just as much as I wanted that animal sniffing around me earlier.

"I'm so sorry!" I cry, feeling completely shaken. It's not every day that I wake up spooning with Gale Hawthorne. I sit up, but he's still holding my arm so that I can't scoot away. My hand splays across his chest while I try to balance.

"S'okay," he whispers, still staring intently. "Just surprised me, is all."

I untangle our legs and feel a flush burn from the top of my ears all the way down my neck. Maybe lower. We're talking intense embarrassment. "I don't normally…I didn't mean to…"

Gale lets go of my arm. "It's okay, Madge. Relax."

"I'm sorry for waking you up and bothering you…an animal woke me up and I panicked and…" I point behind me, where I first fell asleep.

"You don't bother me," Gale somberly interrupts.

I pause. "I—I don't?"

"No," he replies.

"I'll move back," I offer.

"Don't," he says. My lips part in a silent what? "If you're scared, then stay."

I blink. "You won't mind?"

Gale shakes his head. "No."

"Why not?" I don't know why I'm asking…but suddenly I want to know.

A muscle jumps in Gale's cheek while he thinks. Then he rises up, resting on an elbow. His other arm reaches out for mine and he pulls me down toward him till my lips cover his.

"Huhm," which means hang on a minute. But it's lost somewhere between his mouth and mine. Gale moves his lips in a gentle rhythm and all other words fall away. He caresses the fullest part of my lower lip, then leaves a light kiss on the corner of my mouth. I clutch his sleeve and lean into him, feeling like I've found a patch of my own sunlight.

Gale lets me go, leaning back and leaving a chill in his place. I stay clutching his arms to keep from falling forward. "That's why," he says. Gale's eyes soften as he scans my face. "I'm in love with you."

Whoa. My head snaps back. I replay that sentence in my head over and over before it sinks in.

"You are?" I gasp. "But you never said."

"It's true." Gale's head tilts to the side. "And you never said you were the one who brought the morphling that winter years ago. So I guess we're both finding out new things about one another." Gale smirks.

"I'll say!" I cry, feeling broadsided and a little tipsy. He laughs at me. "How did you find out about the morphling?" I demand.

He nods his head toward the pines. "Katniss. Three years ago, before the plans to rescue Peeta were finalized. I asked her what she felt for him."

"And somehow that came around to the night Thread whipped you?" I frown.

Gale sits up all the way. "Well, then Katniss asked me about you. She wanted to know why you'd run through a snow storm to deliver morphling to me. Like we had some secret dealings she didn't know about. I told her I didn't know you had. Or why." He looks at his hands. "I guess I still don't."

I swallow, feeling embarrassed for a gesture I made years ago. Since we weren't really friends then. "I did it because I cared about you." The words sounds so trite considering that he just declared himself. "The truth is that I love you, too. I always have." I'm blushing so badly I can feel it down in my toes. "But if you'd known for the last three years, why didn't you say something before now? Why didn't you tell me that you felt the same the moment you knew?" My eyelids droop. "When did you realize?"

Gale scratches his head. "It happened gradually, I guess, as I found out more about you. Little things at first, like when you'd come over to sit with Mrs. Everdeen and Prim during the Quarter Quell and the kindness you showed Posy by giving her free piano lessons. And also the painkiller, even though I didn't know about if for a long time. And in big ways, like how you held together during the firebombing and afterward when put your life back together."

He means without my parents and I feel tears prick the back of my eyes thinking about them. But I bite my lip and make myself sit up straight.

Gale takes my hand and draws circles on the back of it with his thumb. "I almost did tell you…a few times when you'd come over to see my mom. But I enlisted in a war, Madge. Not exactly the best time to ask a girl out."

"Still," I reply tersely. "Anything could've happened. You might have died and I would have never known the truth. Or I could have…" I remember the fantasizing I did over Quintus and feel my stomach drop "…could have married someone in the meantime!"

He falters somewhat. "Maybe." Then he says, "You're only twenty, though. Who were you going to get hitched to?"

I continue, feeling rather put out. "You honestly believed I'd mope after you for a couple of years?"

His eyes widened. "Was I wrong?"

I think about it for a moment, and know that he wasn't wrong at all. I did mope around for three years, but I still don't like him assuming. I gasp, "I have a date with Quintus," then cover my mouth with my hand.

"Yes, about that," Gale says with a sharp edge in his voice. "I have a feeling you're going to miss it."

"I already told him yes to the date," I say, though my motive was to get him to leave. "It can be rescheduled, I suppose."

Gale grips my chin. "Not that one."

"Possessive, much? I mean, you said you loved me, but you haven't actually asked me out…" Then a chill runs down my spine as something clicks into place from my first conversation with Peeta about The Plan. "Oh no. Peeta said…you don't have cabin fever, do you?"

"Well, maybe a little," Gale replies. "I've always felt that the Underground is more of a glorified sewer—"

I bunch my fists. "Peeta lied to me. He never mentioned bringing you, and I seriously suspect that he had ulterior motives!"

Gale laughs long and hard. "He's good at that, if you haven't notice."

"But I thought…"

"I'm sure you thought whatever he meant you to think," Gale quips. "It's not like he was square with me, either, if that helps."

"So, Katniss and Peeta know that you ...and me….?" I ask, swirling my finger between us. Gale nods. "I'm the only one who wasn't in the loop? I had no idea, what's with the ugh, I'll fly. Madge, you don't know what you're doing. I'm going to die crap!"

Gale's heavy eyebrows arch in condescension. "For the record, we did almost die."

Now I arch my brow.

A slow, self-deprecating grin spreads over his face. "Okay, and also between Peeta and Quintus I felt pretty pissed. And you were so feisty about having your own way, that you made yourself an easy target for ribbing. I do prefer that to the girl who doesn't say a word when I'm rude to her."

I gaze at him through hooded eyes. "You say that now, but wait a few years."

"Years, hm?" His lips twist into a wry smile.

I blink, thinking about the implication of what I meant to be a throw-away statement. Especially since he still hasn't asked me out. "Look, I'm concussed," I mutter, rubbing my temples, though the ache has dulled down quite a bit. "I can't be held responsible for anything I say."

Gale kisses my nose, then pulls me down with him. "Well, I'm not concussed, and years sound like a good amount of time to me."

We share the blanket this time.

TBC

Wow. Three cheers for obvious innuendos. If you found it (or them), you get to keep one of Peeta's spare legs. Signed. May the odds be ever in your favor and thanks for reading!

The accidental cuddle inspiration was brought to you by Geeky_DMHG_Fan. Alas, there were no closets in the wilderness.