Disclaimer – I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay or any of the situations or characters from those books.

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Thanks again to IrishLuck19 for the great beta work! And "Congrats" to your brother.

Healing Regimen

"Gale, what's wrong?" My mother frowned at me. "Are they wearing you out?"

"No. You don't understand." I couldn't look at her.

"Then explain," she said. "Wait." She went to the door, said something to Rory, then came back in and sat in the chair by my side.

I wished I was better with words. She hadn't seen what I had seen. I would never make her understand. But I had to get them to leave.

"I'm a monster." I barely whispered it. "I'm not safe. You have to leave."

She took my hand again. I wanted to pull away but I couldn't.

"Gale, whatever you have seen, whatever you have done, I love you and I will not leave you. Even if you want me to."

I looked at her. My mother was the most stubborn person I knew.

"I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you," I said.

"That doesn't matter. I have loved you since the minute you were born. Before that even. Not because you deserve it, but because you are my son. Nothing you do can change that."

I turned away. I would contaminate her. What could I do?

"Gale, the things you have done have made me very proud of you. You have taken care of our family, our whole District."

I didn't point out that most of the people from our District were dead. But I saw their faces.

"Your sister and your brothers love you and that is something you have earned, over many years. Whatever you have done does not erase that. Don't drive them away." She gave me an intense look. I knew she wouldn't leave without a fight.

I sat up and leaned toward her. "But Rory looks like me. What if he tries to be like me? You need to get him away from me."

"Do you think that would work? If we left today he wouldn't want to be like you? Your dad died seven years ago. Do you still want to be like him?"

I lay back and closed my eyes. What could I do? I hadn't died. I couldn't kill myself. No matter what I did it was too late. I needed to have never been born.

My mother gripped my hand. "Gale, do you want to tell me what happened?"

I kept my eyes closed. "No."

"Fine. But you are not a monster. I have known cruel, vicious, heartless men. You are not one of them. Men like that don't think that they are monsters. If you have done something wrong and you know it was wrong then you are not a monster. You need to make sure that you never do it again. If there is something you can do to fix what you have done, do it. Then forgive yourself and go on," she said.

She made it sound so simple. It was not just one thing I had done wrong, one thing I could resolve to never do again. It was more than that. So many things I had done, so many thoughts I had had, so many more things I would have done if I had gotten the chance. I couldn't trust myself. And there was nothing I could do to undo what had been done, to bring back those who were gone. Prim. The others.

"If you want me to send the kids away I will. But it will hurt them. They need you. Let them stay, Gale. You need them." I should have known better than to try to argue with her.

"Mom, I don't know what to do," was all I could come up with. I sounded like a little kid.

"Rest. We'll come back later," she said as she kissed my hand. Then she kissed my head and left.

I was so tired. My thoughts were a mess. Maybe it was all those years listening to my mom, but I just did what she told me to do. I went to sleep.

It was hours later when I woke up. I still didn't know what to do with myself, but somehow a burden had lifted. Maybe I wasn't a monster. Or if I was, I didn't have to stay that way.

I was still holding the little bundle that Posy had put into my hand. It was a simple pouch, made out of rabbit skin. There was something hard inside. I turned it up-side down and a rock fell into my hand. It was thin, flat, almost a perfect circle, oak brown with lines radiating out from the center and throughout it a golden sparkle.

Mom peeked in the door. "We're back. Is it okay?"

I nodded and there they were, Posy back up on my bed. This time I got her to go around to my other side. I just held her. My ribs still hurt, but that was okay. I looked at Posy's long black braid and saw Prim's blond hair.

Posy looked at me with her most serious I'm-going-to-be-a-teacher-when-I-grow-up face. "Now you are going to eat some dinner." She was only seven, but she was as stubborn as my mother.

She was right. I had some chicken broth in a tin bowl and crackers. A child in the Seam could barely survive on that, but it was a start. It was the first thing I had eaten since things I didn't want to think back to. I decided that, since I didn't trust myself, trust my own judgment, I would put myself into Posy's hands. She had never had an evil thought. I would just do what she told me to do. This had the added advantage of making her very happy.

After dinner, Posy announced "We are going to have some vanilla pudding." She loved pudding, a new discovery in District 13. "Mom says I can have one bite every time that you have a bite." I looked at my mom. We both knew she had set a trap so that I would have to eat some pudding. I had to fight to hold the pudding down, but Posy enjoyed hers.

When I finished the pudding Posy announced "Mom says we have to leave so you can take a real shower."

I was just about to protest when a voice said from the door "Excuse me."

A uniformed man with impossibly short white-blond hair was standing in the door.

"Soldier Hawthorne?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

My mom gathered up the kids and whispered "We'll be in the hall."

"Excuse me, ma'am. Soldier Hawthorne. I am Captain Alabaster Brighton, the captain of the unit to which you have been reassigned. I am here to determine when you will be fit to return to duty."

I hadn't even thought about that. I was ready to put myself at Posy's service, but who was this guy? How could I put myself at his command? Did I have a choice? I was still a soldier. Last year when we started training in District 13 I'd signed up for a two year stint in the army. It seemed so long ago.

"I've gone over your medical file and there are some serious gaps here," he continued. "You were shot twice, once in the right calf, once it the upper right torso, deflected by your body armor."

"Yes, sir.'

"Seven ribs broken on your right side?"

"That sounds about right, sir," I didn't know that I had broken that many.

"Have they been treated?" he asked.

"They are wrapped, sir," I answered. I remembered back in District 13 Katniss had taken something that made her ribs mend. I pushed away thoughts of Katniss and everything that came with them. I needed to focus on these questions.

"A punctured lung, with a surgical repair?" I didn't answer. I had no idea I'd had surgery. It must have been just after they brought me in.

"You were in enemy captivity in the Capitol for less than 24 hours. There is nothing in your file to indicate injuries resulting from your interrogation." I did not answer. Again.

"Soldier, were you injured during your captivity in the Capitol?"

"No, sir, not physically," I answered, trying to be accurate. He looked at me.

"Were any foreign substances administered to you during your captivity?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir." I could have told him that I didn't think I had been given anything, but this wasn't the time for me to give my opinion. I would try to stick to what I knew for sure. Plus, I didn't want to try to explain my complete meltdown.

"Up to this point, you've had an exemplary record, although your last rather dramatic mission has no write up at all given the 100% casualty rate." I didn't want to think about my record up to this point or my last mission. I didn't answer.

"You haven't been taking nourishment nor been responsive for nearly a month now." This didn't seem to be a question.

"However, you seem responsive now."

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"And you have taken some nourishment today?"

"Yes, sir."

"Given the extent of your injuries, if we start you on the proper regimen your ribs will be fully healed in 72 hours. I believe that your recovery will be assisted by an appropriate assignment. I think you can be ready for a new assignment in as little as one week, no more than two."

"Sir, it depends on the assignment. I am not at my best right now." My mind was frozen.

"I have a number of possible assignments available. I'll leave the list with you. We will meet again in 3 days, after your healing regimen. You may give me a list of three assignments which interest you and I'll select the most appropriate."

"Yes, sir," I said, but my gut was cold. What assignment could be appropriate for me? Would there be one where I couldn't cause any damage to anyone?

"One further note, Soldier. I have been informed that in one month's time you will be required for a special assignment."

"Sir, what kind of special assignment?" What could they need me to do?

"It will be basically a propo. It should not be physically demanding. Your presence is requested in the Capitol during the execution of former President Snow by Soldier Everdeen. Is there any reason that you anticipate being unable to fulfill this assignment, soldier?"

I said "No, sir," out of habit, and because there was no way I could explain the many problems with that assignment.

The next day I made Posy very happy by having a piece of toast, some oatmeal and lemon tea for breakfast. I made my mom happy by getting out of bed and surviving a real shower.

But then they started my rib treatment. I made my family leave while they gave me more shots than I could count, all around my right side. They told me to avoid morphling while on the medication, which didn't seem like a big deal since I hadn't been on morphling for weeks.

My family came back just as the nurses were finishing. They were just about to wrap my ribs in their usual bandage. Posy slipped in between two nurses and stared at my side. Mom called her back and they wrapped me up.

At first I thought the pain wasn't too bad. But it just kept building and building. My ribs felt like they were bursting. I couldn't help thinking that some morphling would've been great. I kept reminding myself that I deserved this pain, that many I had killed had felt far worse than this, that many would be glad to be alive and in this pain. According to Rory, I was a putrid green color. I couldn't sit still. I kept trying to find a position that didn't hurt so much. I would resolve to just take the pain, then find myself squirming again. I choked down some chicken noodle soup at lunch. For dinner the only thing I managed to eat was the vanilla pudding. I wasn't looking forward to a long night alone with my pain.

My mom massaged lotion into my foot. It felt so good that I lay still, focused on my foot and tried to ignore my ribs. Mom looked at me and said "Gale, I think we should take shifts and stay with you tonight. Posy and I could take the first shift, then Vick, then Rory. If we split it up it will just be 3 hour shifts. What do you think?"

"You don't have to do that. You'll all be exhausted tomorrow," I said.

"We'll be fine. We can nap tomorrow if we are tired."

"Galey, I'm going to be your doctor," announced Posy. Once again, I had to obey her.

Mom sent the boys off to their quarters and pulled out some sewing. She had been working in the laundry in District 13 and was picking up some mending jobs to do on the side. One of the nurses gave Posy a stethoscope to use. She listened to my heart. She made me listen to hers. Its thumping was fast and strong. Then she said "Let's take a look at those ribs." I opened my shirt. I had fresh bandages on, but the vivid bruises blazed out around the edges. She studied them closely.

"Posy, be careful," Mom warned, but it wasn't necessary. Posy took one finger and gently traced the outline of my bruise. Her soft finger was a like a balm on my skin.

"It's pretty," she said. "It is like a rainbow now. There are lots of colors: purple, red, yellow, green. But I saw the whole shape. When the colors are right it will look like the sun." I looked. The colors radiated out from the dark center, covered by the bandage. I rubbed Posy's soft dark hair.

"Only you would be able to find that," I said.

"Can't you see it?" she asked.

"Now I do."

After a while Posy curled up on the bed next to me. On the side with my hurt ribs. I slipped my arm sling over her. Mom wanted to move her, but I said she should stay. Her warm weight eased the burning in my side.

Posy frowned at the sling. "Did you break your arm, too?"

"No," I explained. "The sling keeps me from moving to protect my ribs."

"Do you have the good luck charm?" she asked.

"It's right here," I said.

"It's a rock I found outside the mine. I thought it was gold, but Vick said it's just a rock with fool's gold in it. It's still pretty. And it works. It is good luck." She looked right at me and I bit back the urge to smile.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because every Reaping I would hold it in my hand and pray and pray 'Not Gale, not Gale.' And when the bombing started I kept it in my hand and it kept us safe. And when you went away to war I held it every night and prayed for you to be safe. And when Mama said you were in the hospital I held it all the time, not just at night, for you to get better. And it worked." She put her head back down on my shoulder.

I looked up at my mom. Her wide eyes told me that she had not known any of that.

"I can't keep this," I said. "It's yours." I tried to put it back in her hand.

She pushed my hand away and reached into her pocket to pull out another rabbit-skin pouch. "Mama made me a new one. This is for my second best rock. I found it in the creek. It was a circle so I went in and got it. Then I took it home. I washed it off and it was perfect white." She pulled out a rock. This one was about the same size, but smooth, white, flawless. "I'll use this one and you use my first best rock." I couldn't say anything. I didn't deserve her. Who could?

She wanted me to tell her a story. At home I used to make up stories for her, adventures that started out with things that had happened while Katniss and I hunted in the woods, but then wound away into make believe as we chased elves or fought off dragons. I couldn't go back into my recent life for story material though. Mom had brought some books with her and I read one of them to Posy long after she was asleep.

I wondered if I should hold her. Would I contaminate her? She was so good, so pure. Could it work the other way? Could she purify me? I didn't want to hurt her. I decided to trust her judgment and just hold her. When she was older, when she learned about the things I had done, then I would beg her to forgive me.

Mom told me about the changes in District 13. How they had to pay for rooms and meals now, but they could get jobs and get a paycheck. In the laundry there was an area where Posy and the other children could play and nap while their mothers worked. They were planning to move back to District 12, saving money for a new house. There were classes in District 13 too. People who needed to build new houses could watch and learn as they built demonstration houses above ground. Mom and the boys all went to the classes when they could.

Mom and Posy's shift was over quickly. Posy gave me one last sleepy hug as Mom carried her off. Vick came in and sat in Mom's chair.

Vick and Rory were taking a hunting class.

"We are learning bows and arrows, but no snares." This clearly annoyed Vick.

"But you already know how to tie a snare," I reminded him.

"No," he said. "My snares are just not working right. Can you show me again? Show me where I'm going wrong?" He went out in the hall to charm some string out of the nurses.

I thought back to the traps I had invented and set in the woods, then to the traps I had invented and set for real people. The noose I had tied for myself. I couldn't tie those snares again. I had the hands of a monster.

Then I remembered the woods at home, long before the war. My dad had taken me hunting. He had taught me my first snares. Those weren't my snares, my evil traps. They were my dad's snares, just for catching dinner. They kept us alive when he was gone. And they weren't mine to keep. He would want me to share them with Vick.

So I worked with Vick on the first snare Dad had ever taught me. I was surprised at how nimble his fingers were. We soon figured where he had gone wrong, then he tied snare after snare perfectly. He asked me if I knew any others. I showed him the one other snare Dad had taught me, but no more.

"You're a natural at snares," I told him. "You'll probably catch more with yours than Rory." Vick beamed. He was obviously annoyed that Rory had gotten so tall, had left him behind. Vick was eleven now. I told him about the things a smaller person could do, climbing to the higher branches of trees, going farther out on the limbs, sneaking silently through the underbrush. I pushed away my memories of Katniss, but they came back again and again.

Then it was 2:00 in the morning and Rory came in.

Like Vick, he was excited about his hunting class.

"The teacher is this guy named Mortimer Smith. I don't think he is as good as you. We practice on the range. Twice a week we go up above and hunt. Do you remember my friend Kinnick? We took down a deer the other day. They paid us a ton for it and served it up for dinner. It was great." He had always talked fast.

"Good for you. The first deer I ever got was hurt." I almost said "we." Katniss and I had brought down that deer together.

"This one was hurt, too," Rory said. "It was limping or we never would have gotten it. We each got it once. Our shots weren't too good. We actually had to finish it with a knife." Rory seemed embarrassed now.

"Sounds exactly like the one I got. I finished it with a knife, too." Then I wished I hadn't said that. I didn't want him to be like me. Except that I looked at him and knew that he was.

How could I warn him? What should I say? "Don't follow me." "Don't think like me." "Don't be a monster." Instead I just asked him: "So you are going back to the District?"

"There's nothing much there now. That's why we have to be able to build. We are saving money. Vick and I have worked a bunch of clean-up crews, brush clearing up top, stuff like that." He was going so fast I had to work to focus.

"Vick and I volunteer for any work that is outside. And I . . ."

He stopped. I waited. "What?" I finally asked. He was fidgeting with his hands. "Well, the bows they gave us don't seem very good. They didn't work as well as your old one I had in the District. So I have been trying to make my own."

"That's great," I told him. "I've tried to make bows. They're not easy."

"I thought you made your bows, the ones you used," Rory said.

"No, I traded for them." I don't say who traded with me for them, but he probably could figure that out. "If you can learn to make good bows they are worth a lot."

"What I want to do is join the army as soon as I am 18. They are going to make us wait until 18 now."

I looked out the dark window. "That's five years from now. Wait and see. There's no more war. Maybe you should build houses and make bows in District 12 instead."

"I want a chance to fight, too. To make my mark. You don't understand. You're already famous. They want to name part of District 12 after you," Rory said.

I sat up straight, flinching. I looked Rory in the eye. "Don't let them do that. I will never come back to the District again if they do that. Promise me you won't let them do that."

"Why?" Rory was confused. He had thought I would like that news.

"Being famous is rotten," I said. I remembered hands on my face, a voice saying "Looks like we've got Hawthorne here." I sat back. "Rory, I have done things I never should have done. Things no one should ever do."

"Why are you so mysterious about everything? Why can't you just tell me what you did? I'm not a kid anymore." Rory glared at me.

"Okay, someday I will tell you. I promise. Just not yet. I can't. I am still thinking things through." When I told him, he would hate me. When would I be ready to lose my brother forever? I had taken Katniss's sister. I deserved to lose my brother.

"I don't know if I can stop them from naming stuff after you. But I'll try," he said. I could tell that he hated saying that.

He was mad. We sat in silence for a long time.

"Can you tell me about when you got shot?" he asked quietly.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, not sure where this would lead.

"Did you shoot anyone?"

"Not then. I'd been captured. They took all my weapons," I answered.

"Where were you?"

"In the Capitol. Just outside of the City Circle. The street opened up and I managed to grab onto a door to keep from falling into this pit. When the door opened" - I skip the part about how the door opened – "there were Peacekeepers there. They grabbed me and took everything. They knew who I was."

I stopped there. I didn't want to tell him that I wanted a nightlock pill. That I was trying to get shot.

"So did you get away?" he finally asked.

"Not for very long. That's when I got shot."

"How far were you from the guy who shot you?" he asked.

"My leg – I don't know. I didn't see him. My chest – about 4 or 5 feet. Pretty close."

"I thought . . ." he started. "I thought body armor doesn't work that close."

"Apparently mine did."

"Or you got lucky," he said.

I couldn't say what popped into my head – that it was unlucky. That I had wanted to be dead. Did I still want to be dead? No. I wanted to have never existed in the first place. But that wasn't one of my choices. What did I want, then? I didn't know.

After a while I asked "What kind of wood are you using for your bows?" We talked about the best wood for long bows, short bows, arrows.

When he left at five o'clock I asked him not to wake up the others when he got back. I'd gotten through the worst of it now.

I decided to look through my possible assignments. Three pages of assignments and I only found one that would be 'appropriate' for me: the Grave Digging Unit.

Thanks to my great reviewers: Scuff the Newsgoil, Solaryllis (I revised my summary a bit – let me know what you think), Analyn Lana Ruse, November92009 and Spanish Angel. Thanks also to IrishLuck19 for her insightful beta'ing.