Seasons of Wither, Chapter 11
The small group dressed in dark clothing stand outside in the rain around the simple wooden crate. A few words are said and the Hawthornes hold each other closely as the box is finally lowered into the ground by a few of the miners who had worked alongside Gale's father. The rain continues to pour down, filling the shallow hole with mud and water and soaking my dark gray dress. I'm at loss for words, unable to even cry, because I don't even know how I ended up here. Hazelle throws the first fistful of dirt-turned-mud into the hole before the volunteer gravediggers begin to shovel the heap of earth back over the flimsy coffin that contains the his body.
I can't seem to stomach the scene taking place in front of me, and as inappropriate as it may be, I run. Away from my loss, away from all of the pain that I'm not sure how I'm supposed to deal with. The rain is falling heavy, soaking me as I continue to run blindly into the storm as it rages on, soaking me further with each step. Then I look down just in time for my eyes fall over a small rectangle hole in the ground that causes me to stop in an instant. It's as if it has appeared out of nowhere. I begin to loose my balance from my sudden stop and almost topple into it. Instead, I fall to my knees alongside the mysterious hole, sinking down into the sticky mud.
The small stone that marks the head of the grave catches my eye in an instant.
Baby Hawthorne.
My hand goes to my abdomen immediately to find the swell of my stomach is now absent. My fingers glide down the taught skin where the notable bump used to be.
"No..." I begin quietly, and then I'm sobbing uncontrollably. Fat tears mix with the rain that beats down on my face.
"No!"
My hands flail out, reaching for something—anything—as I awaken with a gasp. Someone is at my bedside in an instant—or maybe they were already there—smoothing my hair away from my sweaty forehead and whispering reassuring words into my ear. It takes me a moment to realize who is comforting me until the familiar aroma of pine hits me.
"Catnip, it's okay," Gale soothes in an overtired voice. "It was a dream."
"Gale." His olive skin still looks a bit pale, but he's conscious now and up moving around, albeit slowly. "You were dead. I was at your funeral," I sob. I'm still shaking, trying to differentiate what is real from what was just part of my dream.
"Just a dream," he reassures me, rubbing my back. "I'm okay now. Try to take it easy. Prim told me I kicked you last night. I'm so sorry."
My hands instantly go to my protruding stomach at his words. "There was a grave for the baby. I wasn't pregnant anymore," I choke out.
"Katniss-" he begins, but my hands are on his face before he can finish whatever it was that he needed to tell me. I had to make sure that this was real, that Gale was really going to be okay and that it wasn't just another dream. He's taken aback for a second as my fingers smooth over his warm skin and through his dark hair. And like a crazed woman, I throw my arms tightly around his neck and begin to pepper his face with kisses. He lets out a tired chuckle as his arms wrap weakly around my waist in return.
"I thought that you were going to die, that you were already dead," I cry, not easing up on my embrace.
"Nope. The Capitol hasn't succeeded at killing me yet. And here I thought they'd lost their chance at trying after the last reaping." The comment is meant to be a bit of a joke, but I can still hear his bitterness behind the statement.
Gale's words cause me to quickly push away from him. "Gale...it's really not funny," I tell him, because the hell we'd all been put through last night was no laughing matter.
"I know it, Catnip," he tells me apologetically. "Your mother and your sister, whatever they did, it saved my life."
Without much thought, I climb onto his lap and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. I'm still trembling and crying into his shoulder as he holds me. If my actions are making him feel awkward, he really isn't showing it. We stay like that for a few moments, Gale rocking me and smoothing his hand in a circular motion on my back as my sobs finally begin to die down. I tell myself that my emotional breakdown was most likely brought on be the hormones, but a part of me thinks that I would have reacted the same way even if I weren't pregnant right now.
When I'm certain that I'm no longer dreaming, I begin to loosen my death grip on him and we part. Gale's smiling softly, reaching to cup my chin as his calloused thumb wipes away a single tear that manages to trickle down my cheek. "Are you okay? I feel horrible for what I did. I hurt you, and if I hurt the baby-"
"It was an accident, Gale. The baby will be fine," I tell him, but at the same time I'm a bit uncertain about that because my stomach still feels relatively sore this morning. How someone so small could withstand a blow like that seems so impossible, and my vivid dream is much to fresh in my mind to just forget. "Besides, you didn't kick me that hard," I add to my lie.
I'm still on his lap when I feel the presence of someone. My mother stands in the doorway, arms crossed and expression unreadable. "Glad to see you're both feeling better," she says, crossing the room as Gale sheepishly allows me to slip off of his lap. His face is a bit flush at my mother catching us in such an intimate embrace, but she takes his wrist into her hands and begins taking his pulse without further comment. "How's the stomach cramps?" she asks him.
"Fine. All but gone. Thank you, Mrs. Everdeen," he manages without really making eye contact. "I'd've been a goner for sure if you hadn't helped me."
"I guess we all have Prim to thank this morning for her smart thinking," my mother replies. "It was the leaves that saved you. You were progressively becoming sicker until we tried her idea. Something to add to the book," she says, and I nod. "Alright, Katniss. Lie down and let's have a look at you."
I do as my mother says, lying down flat on my back and allowing her to tug my shirt up just below my chest. I grimace at the nasty bruise that has formed on my stomach, realizing Gale has just caught on to my lie. He frowns as he stands over me, watching my mother prod around my stomach. "Four months?" she asks me.
"Just about."
"Is the baby okay?" Gale asks apprehensively as he stares down at me. "It looks like I kicked her pretty hard..." he goes on, guilt evident in his tone.
"I think so," my mother answers. "No bleeding or cramping?"
I shake my head.
"You should start feeling the baby move within the next few weeks. When you do, it's a good indication that everything will probably be okay," my mother goes on. "Judging by the location of the bruise and the fundus height, I'd say you are carrying too low right now for it to have done any damage to the baby. Too bad I can't say the same for your stomach though," my mother tells me. "I wish we had ice right now, but Prim's mixing up an herbal salve to help dull the pain and reduce the swelling."
My mother tugs my shirt back down before suggesting I get some more rest.
"Mrs. Everdeen," Gale says, rubbing the back of his neck unsurely as she begins gathering up her supplies. "Thanks for everything. And...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." he goes on uncomfortably. For a minute, I assume that he's referring to kicking me last night, but then I realize he's talking about my pregnancy. "I didn't mean to make things harder for everyone by..." Never one for words, Gale grimaces as he trails off.
"Well," my mother replies as she stacks together her medical books. "What's done is done, hmm? No point in getting angry over it. Won't help anything. You're taking care of things now, and that's all that really matters." And with that, she's gone.
"She's mad," says Gale.
I nod. "But she'll get over it."
"I understand why she is though," he admits. "I've realize how hard I've made everything for you. I'm sorry I told everyone before you were ready. And for...putting you in this situation... I know you never wanted children." He pauses slightly, wincing. "I wasn't careful. You didn't know better. It was your first time, and I should have been more careful."
"I know how babies are made, Gale," I say dryly. "We both knew what the repercussions were, but neither of us stopped ourselves. You can't really blame yourself when I was so eager to along with it. Besides, everyone was bound to find out the truth. Now at least I don't have to sit down and tell them face-to-face."
With a slight smile, he takes my hand into his and squeezes it reassuringly before standing. I can tell that he's drained, that last night had taken a lot out of him. I sit up on my elbows and frown as he crosses the room to fetch his boots.
"Where are you going?"
"The snare line ain't gonna check itself," he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on.
"You're going back out there?" I ask, my voice raising an octave. "Gale, you almost died last night! Whatever is being dumped out there is killing everything. You really think you've caught anything anyways?"
"Can't let the kids go hungry tonight," he goes on.
"Gale, please-"
"I'll be fine," he promises. "I'll check the snares and be back in a couple of hours. I swear I won't drink out of the creek this time." He's fetching his game bag when I bolt up from the bed, pain radiating through my torso at the sudden movement. I double over, my arm clutching my stomach as I move to stop him. Gale quickly catches me by my shoulders, returning me to the bed in an instant. "Lie down," says firmly. "Your mother said you needed to rest, you shouldn't be exerting yourself."
"If you go, I go."
"No, Catnip!" Gale says a bit angrily. "I'm not dragging you along after what happened last night. I swear, I'll be back before you know it."
"Please," I beg him. "I only just got you back. Just stay with me. We can check the snare line together tomorrow," I tell him, my voice wavering. "We'll be fine for tonight. Just...please, Gale. You're tired. You need to rest, too." I hate how needy my voice sounds and the fact that I'm pleading so desperately with him, but I can't let him go. Not after the very real dream I had just awakened from. Gale exhales a deep breath, and his steely gray eyes finally soften at my pleas as he nods.
"Sure, Katniss. If that's what you want," he tells me. I feel relief wash over me when he sinks back into the bed with me, lying down before pulling me against him on the small mattress. I close my eyes, relishing in the way that my small body fits into the contours of his. He's breathing into my hair when I feel his body suddenly stiffen next to mine.
"Katniss?"
"Mmm hmm?" I mumble into his chest before pulling away to see his expression. He looks as if he wants to say something but is not quite sure how to word it. His mouth opens slightly before closing again. He hesitates for just a second before gently tilting my chin and planting a quick kiss on my lips. "Let's get some rest. Okay?"
I nod as I place my head on his chest, closing my eyes and listening to the sound of him breathing as his fingers comb absentmindedly through my loose hair. And though I know that Gale is safe now, I can't help but to feel that there's much more to my dream than I had originally thought.