Part I
I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. My eyes scratch painfully, and my throat feels like it's been dried out and filled with cobwebs. It's hot and stuffy under the tangle of sheets, and my body feels sticky with sweat and exhaustion.
I gingerly open my eyes and blearily look at the clock. It's only nine in the morning. How can I be awake so early? Then my stomach churns painfully, and I realize that I'm starving. I didn't eat anything last night, and the last meal I can remember was a protein bar on the army hovercraft.
My head aches, but I know I have to get out of bed in order to find food. I immediately think of my mother. It's Sunday morning and she's probably making something nice for breakfast. Perfect.
Turning my head slowly, I catch a glimpse of the woman sleeping next to me. Normally I don't spend the night with the girls that I use to distract myself from Katniss, and now I remember why. Out of my alcohol-induced stupor of last night, the woman looks terrible. Her brown hair is a teased mess around her face, black makeup smudges circle her eyes, and her fake tan looks especially orange and blotchy. Ugh.
"Get up," I say, prodding her shoulder none too gently.
"Hm?" she murmurs contentedly. She half opens her eyes and rolls over, trying to snuggle up next to me. I try not to vomit.
"Get away from me," I say groggily, pushing her away.
"Hm?" she mumbles, her face still foggy with sleep. "It's so early."
"Seriously, get out of here," I say scratchily, punctuating my words with another shove.
"Wait, you're kicking me out?" she says indignantly, her eyes widening as she realizes what I am saying. She pounds the bed with her fist, sending fireworks of pain popping in front of my eyes.
"You know what last night was," I say, my head pounding and my throat scratching agonizingly. "Now get out of here." I close my eyes tiredly and turn away, willing her to leave.
"You are such a jerk!" she says, but I feel the weight shift of the bed as she gets up. I hear her fumbling around with her clothes for a minute before she pauses. I can tell that she's looking at me, but I don't open my eyes.
"Maybe we can hang out again sometime," she says.
"Yeah, maybe," I agree without turning around. I neglect to mention that she disgusts me and that I can't remember her name. She'll leave faster this way.
And she does leave, closing the door softly behind her. I let out a sigh of relief and open my eyes. I lift myself painfully into a sitting position, and when the world around me stops spinning, I carefully stand up and walk unevenly to the bathroom, nearly tripping on an empty bottle of whiskey on my way. I drink three glasses of tepid tap water in quick succession, trying to sooth my burning throat. I can feel the water hitting the empty pit of my stomach, causing it to churn with nausea and hunger.
Finally I set the glass down and look in the mirror. I look terrible. My hair is sticking up in all directions, I haven't shaved in three days, and my eyes are rimmed in red. What's happened to me? I shake my head and look down, feeling sick. I know exactly what's happened to me. The war. And Katniss. And that ass Peeta Mellark.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I suddenly don't want to go see my family. I feel callous and coarse and dirty and jaded, and I know that so much has happened that my family won't recognize the new me. This angry, disappointed version of myself that even I've been running from, trying to ignore my reflection in the mirror by drinking and losing myself in various women. Suddenly, I feel very distant from my family because we've been apart for so long. They won't understand what I've been through, and they won't understand what I've become.
My stomach roils again, and I resignedly surmise that the quickest way to sate my hunger is to go see my mother. And distasteful as it is, I should probably see my family regardless. They at least deserve to know that I'm still alive.
I look back up at myself in the mirror, and know one thing for damn sure: I cannot show up to my mother's place looking like this. I turn on the hot water in the shower and don't step in until clouds of steam fill the bathroom. I scrub myself thoroughly, trying to wash away all my anger along with the dirt and sweat. Afterwards, I take the time to brush my hair and shave carefully. I may be suffering right now, but I sure as hell am not going to let my family know about it.
About half an hour later I'm ready and feeling better; I'm even a little excited to see my family. My head still pounds dully, but I feel more awake and alert than I have in weeks. I make my way out of my room in the cluster of subsidized army housing and walk towards the residential section of D13. The hallways twist and turn, and I think that there is one thing I miss about fighting in the war, and that is the chance to be outside. And be active. Not that I enjoy death and destruction, but there's nothing like recklessly firing a machine gun or bombing an enemy stronghold to take out your frustrations at the world.
When I reach the door leading to my mother's apartment, I take a deep breath and run an apprehensive hand through my hair before knocking. I hear the murmur of voices behind the door and the bright sound of Posy giggling. I step closer to the door and strain my ears; I haven't heard Posy laughing in so long that I'd forgotten the sound. I hear the shuffle of footsteps, and the door opens.
My mother is standing there. Her dark hair is tied back, and there are flour smudges on her apron and across one cheek where she must have pushed back a strand of hair.
"Hey mom," I say, suddenly feeling guilty for not coming to see her sooner.
She stares at me for a few seconds, her mouth working. "Oh my goodness. Gale!" she finally says, sweeping me into a hug.
I start in surprise at the contact. Her arms are tight around me and her hair is soft against my cheek. She smells like soap and flour, and the smell sends me straight back to our one-bedroom home in the Seam. I close my eyes, inhaling the familiar scent, and squeeze back tightly, my whole body relaxing into her. As my body unwinds, I realize how tense I must have been the past eighteen months. My shoulders ache from being bunched up for so long.
"Gale!" I hear a girlish cry. I pull back from my mother and just in time because a squealing Posy is running towards me, her little pink dress and dark hair flying.
"Hey sweet," I say as she rockets in to me. I lift her straight off the ground and into my arms.
"You're home! You're home! You're home!" she cries between planting giggling kisses all over my cheeks.
"Look how much you've grown!" I say with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. And it's true. Posy is no longer a toddler; she now has the skinny legs and scraped knees of a young kid.
"Hey, Gale," I hear. I see Vick's curly hair and self-conscious smile peeking out from behind my mother as he waits his turn. My heart bursts with affection.
"Hey baby brother," I say, putting Posy down and stepping toward him. Vick has grown too, but he still looks like his young, bashful self. I pull him into a hug, ruffling his hair. I feel his little hands curling around my back and think again that I should have come home sooner.
When I finally let go, I look up to see Rory. An uncomfortable lump develops in the back of my throat. Rory has grown several inches since I last saw him and now fills out his clothes. Correction: my clothes, ones that I used to wear back in the Seam. He almost looks like a man.
But then he cracks a grin and runs towards me, and I know that Rory may have had to grow up once I left for the war, but he's still my younger brother inside. "Hey little man!" I say. We aren't a super-affectionate family, but I don't think twice before pulling Rory into a hug and pounding him on the back.
"I want another turn!" says Posy, pulling Rory off of me and hugging my leg.
"Give him some room to breathe," my mom laughs, but I can see that her eyes are a little moist. Posy shakes her head vigorously and refuses to let go. "At least let him come into the house!" she says, shooing us all inside and shutting the door. "Just give me a minute, Gale. Breakfast is almost ready," she says, touching my arm lightly before walking towards the kitchen.
"Sounds good," I say before reaching down to tickle Posy, right under her ribs where I remember she's most ticklish. I am rewarded with a piercing shriek. She writhes and squeals in protest, but doesn't let go of my leg.
"Let's get her!" Vick cries, diving in and trying to pry Posy off my leg. Rory joins in too, tickling Posy along her stomach.
Vick finally manages to lift Posy into the air, and he twirls her around so she gets dizzy too.
"Vick stop! Mom!" Posy shrieks. "Madge!"
My mom's voice comes from the kitchen, "Boys, stop ganging up on your sister!" The phrase is so familiar from my years in the Seam that I can't help but smile.
Vick sets Posy down and playfully tugs her hair. She flops to the ground, her cheeks red, clutching her tummy dramatically.
All of a sudden, I inhale quickly, realizing what I've just heard. "Wait, did she just say Madge?" I say in shock, thinking that I've misheard Posy.
Vick collapses onto the floor next to Posy, trying to catch his breath. "Yeah, ever since Madge started coming around, Posy thinks she has an ally against us."
"Wait, Madge Undersee?" I say stupidly, still not getting it.
"Yeah," says Rory, throwing himself onto the couch. "You remember her, the mayor's daughter."
My head spins. "Yeah, I know who she is! I just didn't know you kn-"
Just then I hear a clattering in the kitchen, and Madge Undersee walks out with a stack of plates and utensils, heading towards the table as if it is the most natural thing in the world for her to be setting out placemats for the Hawthorne family brunch.
She pauses, noticing the suddenly quiet room. She looks up and our eyes meet. Her mouth falls open slightly. "Oh!" she breathes out. She blinks. "Hey, Gale."
"Hey, Madge," I say incredulously. I open my mouth to ask her what she is doing here, when Rory slaps me on the shoulder.
"See? You do remember her!" he says.
My mom bustles out of the kitchen. "Of course you remember her, don't you Gale?" she says, putting a hand on Madge's shoulder. Madge looks down, blushing slightly. To be honest, I feel a little warm around the collar too. Like me, Madge must be thinking of what happened last night.
"Yeah," I say as calmly as possible. "I just didn't realize that she would be here."
"I can go," Madge says, looking up at my mom. "I don't want to mess up you're family reunion." She turns to me, "I wouldn't have come but I didn't think you'd get here so early."
Madge stops talking and bites her lip, realizing that she may have said too much. She must have known that I would be completely hungover this morning and probably thought that she could have breakfast with my family and leave before I even woke up. I am definitely feeling warm now.
"Nonsense," my mother says, matter-of-factly. "You don't mind if Madge stays, do you Gale?"
I look at Madge, whose cheeks are still tinged lightly with pink. I kind of do wish that she would leave, mostly because she knows about my embarrassing behavior last night, which is something I most definitely don't want my family to find out about. But my mother really hasn't left me any other choice.
"Sure," I say tightly. I clear my throat. "Of course you can stay."
"Yay!" Posy cheers, running up to Madge. "Here let's set the table so then we can play," she says grabbing the plates straight out of an overwhelmed Madge's hands.
I start to say that I'll lay the table when Rory surprises me by jumping off the sofa. "I'll help too!" he says, hurrying towards the kitchen.
"Me too!" Vick says, leaping up off the ground. I feel slightly miffed. Since when do my siblings actually volunteer to help around the house?
"Thanks, guys!" Madge says, smiling at all of them. She doesn't look at me.
I stand around awkwardly for a few seconds, feeling a little useless. But it's not as though it takes five people to lay a table, and my boisterous siblings under Madge's guidance seem to have it under control.
Posy takes a little too much for granted. Oblivious to my internal debate, she runs over and pushes me onto the couch. "You can't help, Gale!" she says, "You have to watch. Madge showed us how to lay the table properly!"
"What do you mean properly?" I say, but she's already running away to help with the table.
My shoulders bunch up again, and I narrow my eyes at the scene in front of me. I watch Madge good-naturedly stop Rory from making fun of Posy's giggling struggle on tiptoe to set the hot plates in the middle of the table, and I feel an unexpected wave of resentment coil in my gut. After all of the starving children, mutilated friends, and sheer devastation of the war, coming home had been surprisingly healing until Madge appeared. I watch the kids laughing with Madge, and I grit my teeth, angry that she had to be here to remind me of last night and to pull my siblings away from me.
Leaning forward on the sofa, I realize with a start that my siblings look much better fed than they ever did in District 12. When we first arrived in D13 I had been so angry to find the wealthy underground metropolis. I hated all the inhabitants of D13 because they were living in relative comfort while the rest of Panem was paying for their sins. It wasn't until now that I realized my family is well fed because of the wealth and opportunity to be had here. Somehow this realization only makes me angrier, and I clench my jaw, knowing that I wasn't here to help my family make a way in their new home. I even feel a little useless, knowing that they didn't need my help. They seem to be getting along just fine with Madge instead of me.
My mom emerges from the kitchen with two plates, one piled high with hotcakes and the other loaded with bacon. My mouth immediately begins to water and the smell causes my stomach to clench in anticipation. After eating packets of freeze-dried food and protein bars in the field for the past year and a half, I had almost forgotten the joy that is hot, fresh food. And I've certainly never seen a spread like this in my life.
I make an effort to swallow my anger before getting off the couch and striding towards the table. I scoop Posy up on my way. She squeals as I throw her lightly up in the air. I catch her deftly and set her down in the seat next to mine. Madge sits down across from me. I ignore her.
I sneak a look at my mom; she is busy wiping a spot of flour off of Posy's cheek. Before she can scold me, I dart a hand out and grab a hotcake quickly. I toss the hotcake between my hands and blow sloppily, trying not to burn my self.
"At least try and be a good example to your younger siblings," my mom says with a resigned sigh as I stuff the hotcake whole into my mouth. "For goodness sake, Gale, you are an adult, right?" she says as I try to look innocent by widening my eyes. My efforts are undermined by my cheeks bulging with the ill-gotten pancake.
"You wish, mom," Rory says, helping himself from the plate of bacon.
"Iym hungwy" I grumble, before swallowing the pancake in one enormous gulp. "And you, watch yourself," I say to Rory, flicking a crumb at him before reaching for the plate of hotcakes again.
"You may be a rebel war hero, but you regress into a child when you're here," my mom retorts. There is a twinkle in her eye though, telling me she is secretly pleased that I'm acting like a little boy again after all these years.
"That's why you love me," I say, shooting her my most charming grin.
"Ugh, gross," Vick says, rolling his eyes at my efforts to suck up to mom.
"Speaking of war heroes," my mom says, pointedly brushing over our brotherly ribbing, "Madge, how is the new boyfriend?"
I choke on the hotcake in my mouth as I turn to face Madge.
She is blushing and looking at her plate. "Mazer isn't my boyfriend, Mrs. Hawthorne."
"Mazer?" I say with a mix of surprise and irritation, thinking of the man last night at the bar. "Mazer Preston?"
Madge nods miserably, not meeting my gaze. I frown. Captain Mazer Preston is a famous air force pilot, with a reputation as one of the best surgical strikers in the rebel forces. And a notorious womanizer.
I open my mouth to say something when Posy says, "But why Madge? He's so cute! You should make him your boyfriend."
I choke again, and this time there is no hotcake in my mouth. As soon as I recover, I turn to my sister. "Posy Hawthorne, you are absolutely too young to think boys are…cute." I stutter on the word. "Do you understand?" I stare at her sternly, fixing her with a dangerous scowl.
"Gale," she whines, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I'm a girl! I'm supposed to think boys are cute." She turns back to Madge. "So? Why don't you make Mazer your boyfriend?"
"It's not that simple," Madge says, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.
I remember the slimy air force pilot from yesterday, who, I have to admit, may be considered good looking, if you like over-coiffed, smarmy kind of guys. I think back to the way he was stroking Madge's hip last night and snort. Who does she think she is pretending that there isn't anything going on between them? "I'm sure it's because Mazer is an idiot," I interject rudely.
"Gale!" my mother says in surprise.
"Mazer isn't an idiot…" Posy argues earnestly, touching my arm with her hand, sticky with syrup.
"Oy, watch it!" I say, swatting at the sticky spots on my arm.
"…he's a famous fighter pilot!"
"He's famous for more than being a fighter pilot," I mumble darkly.
"What are you talking about?" Madge says, finally looking up.
"Don't be so naïve, Madge," I say, turning on her. I don't notice my voice rising in anger. "We've all heard the stories about the infamous Mazer Preston. He chews up girls and spits them out, usually because they don't know any better."
"Gale!" my mother says, her voice laced with warning. Warning which I choose to ignore.
"And I don't appreciate you coming here and telling my little sister all about your slimy boyfriend and his-"
"Gale!" my mother says more forcefully, standing up.
"What?!" I say, venomously, looking at her.
"I need help in the kitchen," she says tightly. "The rest of you, finish your breakfast."
"This conversation is not over," I spit out at Madge before pushing back my chair and storming after my mother, slamming the door behind us.
As soon as the door is shut my mother turns on me. "What the hell is the matter with you?" she hisses, her eyes flashing.
"Me? What's the matter with you?" I say, glaring back. "How could you let Madge around our family? She has nothing to do with us and never will. She's a bad influence with all of her talk of boys and…and Mazer bloody Preston! God, mom, do you even know where she works?"
"Yes," mom says firmly. "And if anything, that should make you want to be nicer to her. She's been through a lot, just like you."
"She may have lost her parents," I hiss back, "but that does not give her the right to come around here and, and…corrupt Posy."
"She is not corrupting anyone!" mom whispers back fiercely. "She has been a big sister to the kids. How dare you come here and judge her after you've been gone for the last three damn years!"
Her words are like a hard punch in the gut, confirming my fears from this morning about abandoning my family.
I must be making a really ugly face because my mom backpedals, "I didn't mean it like that, Gale."
"So you think Madge is a better sibling than me?" I say. I try to keep my voice hard, but it cracks slightly at the end. I cross my arms over my chest and look away, unable to meet my mother's eyes.
"No," she says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. She pulls my face so that I'm forced to look at her. "You'll always be their big brother, Gale, but you've been gone these three years. It's just been hard for all of us, even Madge. I'm only asking that you give her a break."
My mom's hand rests on my shoulder carrying with it the soft scent of soap and flour. The truth of her words sinks in and my shoulders sag with defeat. In fighting for the rebellion I've let down my family, and Madge is filling the hole I left behind. My anger drains away into a painful resignation that I recognize. It's the same feeling I had when I realized that Katniss loved Peeta.
"And the kids don't know about where she works," my mom adds as an afterthought. "Madge never talks about her work around them." She sighs and looks away, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You know, I've begged Madge to leave that job, but she won't accept any help. She won't take a job that she can't get on her own…and she won't take any money either."
My mom looks exhausted, and I feel a wave of guilt.
"I'm sorry," I say, thoroughly ashamed. "For blowing up at you….and for leaving you for three years…"
"It's alright, Gale. You were fighting for something you believe in," mom says firmly. "Just try and be nice to Madge. She's gone through so much, and she's been a great help to me with the kids." She pauses. "We owe her a lot, even if you don't know it."
I sigh, thinking of Madge working at that awful bar last night. I see her face, gleaming pale in the smoky room and her hair falling down her back in soft curls. And I remember how her voice broke when she told me about her parents. Guilt burns my throat and heat crawls up my neck.
"Fine, I'll apologize," I say tiredly. I feel empty.
"Thank you," my mother says, squeezing my arm. "You're doing the right thing."
I nod and open the kitchen door. The boys have disappeared upstairs, but I see Madge and Posy in the sitting room, Posy braiding Madge's hair and chattering happily.
I run a quick hand through my hair, feeling like a total cad. I take a deep breath and walk over to the two of them.
"Hey Posy," I interrupt. "Can you help mom with the dishes? I want to talk to Madge for a second."
Posy looks up at me with her wide eyes. "Are you going to yell again?" she says protectively. I feel another wave of shame.
"No, I'm not going to yell," I say, not looking at Madge.
"Ok," Posy agrees, slipping off the couch and toddling to the kitchen.
I sigh, not knowing what to say. Madge refuses to look at me, running her hand through the carpet uneasily instead.
I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," we both say at the same time. Our eyes meet in surprise.
"No, I'm sorry," Madge says quickly. "I never should have butted into your family. And I never should have mentioned Mazer-"
"No!" I say forcefully, putting up my hand to stop her. Madge snaps her mouth shut abruptly, and I can see a small trace of fear in her eyes. "No," I say, clearing my throat. "I'm the one who should apologize."
I sit on the floor next to her. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I wasn't even mad at you." I sigh in frustration. "Look, I'm not good at talking about this kind of stuff, but I was just…angry."
I think of Madge smiling at the overly stylized air force captain last night and the light in Katniss's eyes as she ran off the hovercraft towards the always perfectly romantic Peeta Mellark. And I remember waking up next to that fake-tanned floozy this morning. I clench my jaw. "Ever since the war started I've been…losing things," I say. I turn to Madge, trying to make her understand. "I was taking my anger out on you because I was just…jealous," I force myself to say. "You've been here with my family while I've been away, and it…hurts." I finish lamely, unable to vocalize my feelings of anger and guilt.
I run my hand through my hair again, looking at the ground and trying to come up with the right words. I've felt so hopeless the past few years: losing District 12, fighting in the war, giving up Katniss, it's all taken its toll. And seeing Madge with my family, it made me feel like an outsider in the one place that I finally felt safe again.
I open my mouth to explain to Madge, but I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. I turn to her in surprise.
"It's alright, Gale," she says, smiling gently. "I didn't mean to intrude on your family, and I hope I don't make you feel like you're losing them."
My mouth falls open. "How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?" I say without thinking.
"Because I know what it's like to lose your home and family," she says seriously. I don't know what to say, but then a small smile plays around her lips. "And because I'm a genius," she says with a grin.
Her response takes me by surprise, and I half snort, half laugh. "Yeah right," I say with a smirk. I sober up for a second and look into her eyes. "Forgiven?" I ask. I throw her my most charming smile, the one that I used as a kid to get out of trouble with mom, the one that even Katniss couldn't say no to.
"Yes, you're forgiven," Madge says with a laugh. "And don't look at me like that!" she adds, shoving my shoulder playfully.
I smile back at Madge, noticing for the first time how different she looks when she laughs. In her easy white sundress she looks younger, less on guard, more like the innocent, carefree Madge I remember from District 12. Not the tense, serious girl from last night. But though she looks more relaxed, she's definitely not the girl I sold strawberries years ago. She's thinner, and there's knowledge in her eyes. My eyes slide down, taking her in. Madge Undersee has defintely grown up.
"Are you going to kiss now?"
"What?" I say in surprise. My heads whips around and I see Posy surveying us from the kitchen doorway. I look back at Madge. "What? No!" I say, but I can feel the telltale heat clawing up my neck. "Damn it, Posy, you can't ask people that!" I say, uncomfortable that Posy noticed the turn in my thoughts.
"Well it just looked like it," Posy says matter-of-factly. "So, are you two friends now?" she asks, walking over and plopping herself between us.
I look at Madge, not really sure how to respond. She's blushing, which makes me smile. "Yes, we're friends now," she says, meeting my gaze, one of her blond curls falling into her eyes.
I smile back, relaxing. "Yeah, we're friends." The words sound strange in my mouth.
"Good," Posy says emphatically, thumping each of us on the shoulder.
"Well, I should probably go," Madge says, breaking our gaze, her cheeks still pink. She scoots over and her hand brushes my leg as she pulls Posy into her lap. "I'll see you later," she says, kissing Posy on the cheek. "Be good for your brother, alright."
Posy nods eagerly. "Bye, Madge! Come back soon!"
"Bye, Gale," Madge says as she gets up, brushing my shoulder lightly with her hand. From my sitting position I have an excellent view of her bare legs.
"Um, bye," I say, my voice cracking.
Part II
I see Gale Hawthorne again today. I can't believe it when I walk out of the kitchen, and he's just there. He looks completely different from last night, his stubble and disheveled uniform gone. Instead, his hair is clean, and still slightly wet and unkempt from his shower this morning. He's wearing a simple grey t-shirt, fitted enough to stretch over his muscles.
I can't breath.
And we actually talk. Sure, there was an argument before we started talking, but honestly I can't really remember most of it. I'm not sure how it happened, but all of a sudden I'm sitting on the floor of his mother's apartment, and Gale Hawthorne is telling me that that the war has made him angry and bitter. He tells me that he wishes he could have been there for his family. He apologizes. For the first time, we've made a real connection, and the thought makes me tingle all over.
I want with all my heart to sit on the floor of the Hawthorne's apartment forever, just being with him. No more arguing, no more mask of indifference, just the two of us talking. Laughing. Together.
But then Posy comes in and in her childish wisdom asks us if we're going to kiss. I don't think I've ever blushed so hard in my life, especially because I've never wanted anything more in the world than to be kissed by Gale Hawthorne. Luckily, Gale doesn't seem to notice; he's too busy shushing Posy.
I see a blush crawling up his neck though, and I can't stop smiling. Gale Hawthorne is shy…of kissing me! The thought is heady and I feel happiness bubbling up inside me like champagne. I know I can't stay here any longer without letting my giddiness show.
"Well, I should probably go," I hear myself say, though my voice sounds miles away. I scoot closer, hoping to touch Gale again before I go. I feel a thrill as I brush my hand against his leg, and I hide my smile by kissing Posy on the cheek.
I'm so happy, I can't sit still. I hum the whole way back to my apartment. And when I get there, I lock the door and squeal, doing a happy dance in front of the mirror.
A/N: So I'm not really sure how this chapter got so long, but I wanted to show Gale's interactions with his family and some of his residual anger from the war and losing Katniss. Let me know if you like the longer or shorter chapters and I will try to accommodate!