A/N: Special thanks to my amazing Beta, tebby_sweet, who loves me though I forgot to mention her in my previous chapters.
Dawn comes quickly when you're exceptionally sleepy. I lie awake, unmoving, a dull ache pulsing through my temples. I roll over and bury my face in the pillow, pulling the covers over my head completely. Thankfully, today is Sunday, the only day of the week that I don't have training. I can hear Prim and my mother's muffled voices coming from the kitchen; I will myself out of bed and slowly my body follows my brain's commands. Grabbing a jacket from my closet, as it's cool in our apartment this morning, I make my way slowly into the dining room.
At the table sit my mother and sister. Prim is reading over one of her many medic training books, taking notes in a thick notebook. I rest my body weight against the back of her chair and lean over her shoulder, scanning my eyes over what she's reading. Prim is highly intelligent, but particularly in regards to everything medical. She's currently ranked number one in her class, and second rank is far behind her. She's much more clever on this subject than I am. As I begin reading a page from the open book I have to stop and rub my eyes. These words are much too big and it is far too early in the morning.
I pull back a chair and sit next to her at the small table. She pauses from her reading and looks up to give me bright smile before going back to work; she's extremely studious. I rest my elbows on the table and place my chin in my hands. I need to shower, get dressed and go find Gale; but first, I need breakfast.
"Good morning, Katniss," My mother says gently. I inhale deeply before casting my gaze briefly at her across the table.
"Good morning," I mutter shortly.
"Did you enjoy your first celebration?" She asks curiously, brushing aside my coldness.
I pause before answering, looking at her closely. She has tired eyes, and the wrinkles in her face are growing steadily deeper with each passing year; she looks older than I know her to be. I try to imagine her when she was younger, and I steal a glance at Prim; they have always looked the most similar. With vibrant blonde hair and clear blue eyes, Prim is an innocent beauty. I, however, inherited the dark hair and dark eyes of my father. Sometimes I wonder if my mother sees him every time she looks at me; I wonder if that's why she shut me out the most.
"Prim, darling, can you set the table for dinner?" Mother calls over her shoulder.
Prim begins putting plates and silverware on the table. I take out the glasses and begin filling them with tea. As I pass her by, I give her hip a gentle nudge with mine; she giggles and nearly loses her grip on the plates in her tiny hands. I reach out at the last second and snag them, reflexes keeping them from crashing to the floor.
"Okay," my mother begins sternly, but her mouth is twitching at the corners. "Behave; do not break my china," she finishes with a small smile.
Prim and I turn away with a nod, stealing glances at one another and giggling quietly. We keep looking over our shoulders as we roughhouse with each other, trying to keep from getting in trouble again. I feel Prim's little fingers poke into my side and I jerk to the right, letting out a shrill squeal.
"Girls!" She's a little more serious this time.
We become more solemn this time and resume setting the table; our mother starts placing the food as I'm filling the glasses, and we are seated at the table for no more than a few seconds when there is a knock at the door. This is unusual, as the only person who comes to visit this time of the night is Gale and he's been bedridden for days now with a virus. I see concern flash in my mothers eyes, and her face drains of color; she knows something is out of place. My father has been gone on his OP for two and a half weeks now. They were heading very far out, one of the furthest trips from Verona any quadrant has made. He's not due back yet anytime soon and anyway, he wouldn't knock. These facts are making my mother nervous, and I do my best not to let my own emotions show for Prim.
Our mother tells us to fill our plates and begin eating as she leaves the table. As she stands, for just a fleeting moment, I read the look in her eyes plainly- "Keep Prim at the table." The look is gone as swiftly as it appeared and she leaves the room quickly. I hear the door open with a quiet click, and a deep voice begins speaking words that will fuel my darkest nightmares for years to come.
"Mrs. Everdeen, may we come inside?" the solemn voice asks.
Prim and I look at each other; I try valiantly to keep my face blank, to hide my emotions from my baby sister, but my emotions are running haywire now; before I can stop myself I'm pushing away from the table and following my mother to the door. It's all the confirmation I need, seeing the two Special Agents standing before us holding out the flag of Verona and a badge honored only to those who don't return from missions.
My mother's knuckles are white from gripping the door frame. She's frozen, and hasn't answered the Agent. He looks down after a few moments, unable to hold her stricken gaze, and clears his throat before speaking again.
"Ma'am, I am deeply sorry to give you this news. Your husband, Robert Everdeen, was involved in a tragic incident during his OP. He fought heroically before he fell, and in respect of his bravery and sacrifice, we would like to present you with the flag of our city and this badge of honor. I am truly sorry," he intones in a grave voice, his sorrow plain on his face.
"What-" Prim's voice cracks before she can finish her sentence; I hadn't realized she followed me from the table. I wheel around to see her wide, tear rimmed eyes fixed just beyond me on the Special Agents. Her gaze drops to the proffered flag and I know, despite being so young, she understands. She opens her mouth, gasping brokenly for air and shaking her head in disbelief.
"Prim," I whisper, and begin walking toward her; I need to comfort her.
She stumbles backwards and her eyes flash to me belatedly as if seeing me standing there for the first time. Something seems to break within her and she begins to cry, cringing away from me. I faintly hear the door close behind me. Once I get Prim in my arms I slide to the floor and pull her frail body onto my lap, cradling her like a baby. I look desperately over my shoulder for my mother; she's standing with her back pressed to the door, the flag and badge in her hands, but her eyes are fixed on me. Her tears threaten to spill over and her entire body trembles, but our locked gazes never waver. Her eyebrows furrow slightly as if suddenly she doesn't recognize me. I want to speak, tell her she knows who I am. "I'm your daughter!" I scream internally at her. "Say something! Do something!"
Instead she drops the flag and badge and covers her mouth in an effort to stifle the wail she cannot control. She turns her face away, unable to look at me any longer, and begins stumbling to her room. With each step, her sobs grow louder and louder until finally the click and lock of her bedroom door drowns out all the crying but Prim's.
I was unable to coax her out of her room. It was Prim who took her food, only Prim to whom she would speak. It took weeks for her to look at me again, and months before she spoke to me at all.
"Yeah, it was fun," I answer her softly, memories flashing through my mind.
"Gale was there too?" she probes me for more information; more that I am unwilling, unable to give her.
"Of course; it was his celebration, after all," I reply curtly. Prim looks up from her book at this, her eyes alight with interest.
"I overheard the family they saved talking yesterday. They were talking about three other survivors they met outside the wall. They said the girl with them was mad, totally crazy. I wonder if Snow will send out another quad to find them?" she asks curiously.
The memories evaporate now from my mind instantaneously. All of my attention turns to Prim and this new information. If Snow gets this intel, which he surely will, he'll want to send a squad out immediately; and being that I'm of age, he might just send me out too. This would be perfect for me, my first opportunity to show what I'm made of. We know the general location of the survivors; they must still be in the same zone the previous family was recovered from. It is almost too easy, absolutely perfect for a first-timer. I do my best to hide my excitement and give her a nonchalant shrug.
"Who knows? Anything's possible," I reply vaguely. Probable would be the correct reply.
Suddenly I'm ready to get out of the house. I need to find Gale and not only talk to him about last night, but tell him this news. I rise from the table eagerly and kiss the top of Prim's head. I walk into the kitchen and grab an apple from the bowl on the counter, and snag a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
"I'm going to see Gale," I say as coolly as possible to my mother, brushing past her at the table.
I go to my room and hurriedly pull on a pair of pants and my boots, nearly forgetting my tags on the dresser, and head out the door. I bite into the crisp, green apple as I touch the sensor for the elevator and walk inside.
It's still early, and everything outside looks bright and vivid. I shield my eyes with one hand and rush down the sidewalk. Gale lives three buildings down from mine. Our buildings are both made of pure, jet black steel; you can almost see your reflection in them. The windows are tinted to a similar shade. Both buildings look sleek and expensive.
I hurry inside the building, straight to Gale's apartment, and begin rapping my knuckles on the door impatiently. Hazel, Gale's mother, greets me at the door with a surprised smile. The smell of bacon wafts out the doorway and I inhale deeply; Gale's apartment smells like home. She's dressed comfortably with a loosely tied apron over her sleepwear. Her dark hair is falling from her ponytail, framing her familiar face in a disheveled sort of way. She, much like my mother, looks a little older than she is, but I have always found her lovely. I have also always considered her to be very brave.
Gale's father died in battle a year after my father did. Unlike my mother, Gale's mother didn't completely abandon her children. In fact, she worked double to take care of them. It has given me extreme respect for her. Sometimes I think that maybe she saw how my mother lost herself along with her husband, and promised herself she wouldn't do the same. However, determined as she remained in her efforts to support her family, Gale took on the daunting task of becoming the man of the household. He was there for his siblings in the comforting way that I have been for Prim. Gale and I are similar in many ways; this is why we were always best friends.
"Katniss, is everything alright?" She asks me, a look of concern upon her face as her eyes search my own. I realize I've been standing here just staring at her for almost a full minute.
I briefly wonder if her worried expression is due to the memory of answering the door like this, just as my mother did, to Special Agents bringing nothing but sorrow. Even though all of her family is safe inside, did my knocking give her chills, the way it sometimes still does me? Did cold, haunting memories surface, terrible deja vu? I mentally scold myself for coming so early without a warning; she surely wasn't expecting company so soon after the return of a squad. Next time I will think things through better.
Her expression has steadily become more tense; I need to stop rambling to myself.
"Yes! Everything is fine, Mrs. Hawthorne," I say now with a smile. "Is Gale home? Can I come inside?" I continue brightly, wanting to assure her nothing is amiss. Relief visibly washes over her and she puts her hand on her chest.
"Oh, yes, sweetheart. He's in his room still sleeping. Please, come in. Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready," she tells me, moving aside to let me in.
I give her a smile and walk through the doorway, closing the door behind me. I pass through the kitchen and wave to Gale's siblings. Posy rushes to give me a hug, which I return quickly.
"No, thank you," I tell Mrs. Hawthorne now, holding up the half eaten apple for her to see. "I'm okay," I say, tossing what's left of it into the trash. I smile quickly once more at everyone and head for Gale's room.
I don't pause or knock when I reach his door, I simply burst in and shut it behind me. He's sprawled on his back, one arm tucked under his head. His shirt lies on the floor by the bed, and his tanned skin emphasizes the muscles of his arms. I step over the discarded shirt, silently praying he's at least wearing something.
"Gale!" I say quite loudly as I drop onto the bed next to him.
He grumbles something in his sleep that I can't understand. I begin to bounce on the bed like a child as I attempt to wake him, the excitement flooding through my veins now surfacing. I know my bouncing will annoy him and he'll probably wake in a bad mood, but my joy overrides my trepidation.
"Get up! I have great news!" I exclaim fervently.
Gale cracks one eye open and turns his head to glare at me.
"Katniss," he begins dangerously. "What time is it?" he practically growls.
"I don't know," I reply in a rush. "But listen to this; there are more survivors! The family you rescued knew of them!" I say rapidly, eager to discuss this with him.
His face, however, shows complete disinterest at my announcement. He takes a deep breath and gives me a glare before closing his eyes once more.
"I am going to close my eyes for five seconds, and when I open them again you will be gone," he says in clear annoyance.
I bite the inside of my cheek, my excitement slowly beginning to fade. I had expected a little more of a reaction from Gale, despite the events of last night. I had hoped that he would share the anticipation I felt; my chance of passing through the city gates was drawing ever nearer. But his attitude is sour and after five seconds he opens his eyes. I'm still sitting on his bed, watching him expectantly.
"We need to talk about this," I say gently, my eyes holding his steadily.
"Talk about what, Katniss?" He sits up, and I can tell he's extremely irritated now. "What exactly is so important that you have to wake me up this early on our only day off?" his voice is biting, his entire body tense.
He breaks my gaze, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. He's uncomfortable, I can see it plainly. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and I pause, considering how to proceed.
"Last night. . . I didn't- I mean, I jus-"
"You just what? What, Katniss?" He snaps harshly. I flinch now at his cold tone.
He is addressing me by my real name, not the nickname he affectionately gave me. This proves to me that he's more upset than he's willing to let on, even despite his attitude towards me. This time it's me who looks down and refuses to meet his gaze.
"Look, I don't want things to be weird between us," I say quietly. "If I led you on, if I let you think my feelings ran deeper than that of family, I'm sorry. I love you Gale; you're my best friend, but that's all," I finish, my voice barely above a whisper now.
He's silent for a few minutes before I finally gain the courage to glance at his face. He's not looking at me, but his fierce gaze has relaxed; he doesn't even seem angry anymore.
"What are you talking about, Catnip?" He asks, cocking his head to one side as he finally meets my gaze again with a small smile. I raise my eyebrows and stare at him, confused.
"You're joking, right?" I ask incredulously.
"I walked you home, so what? I do that all the time, what made you think this time was different?" he asks me, somewhat teasingly. I pause, taken by surprise at this sudden change of attitude.
"Well, you seemed like you were going to try to. . . I don't know, kiss me," I manage to say rather bluntly.
Gale releases a throaty laugh. I can tell it's forced, that he wants me to believe what happened last night was nothing. I know Gale and I know his game; this is how he acts when he's embarrassed. I know now he's going to try and downplay the entire situation.
"Please, Catnip. Do you know what Madge would do if we kissed?" He asks with an impish grin.
Suddenly now, I'm the one who's annoyed. Mostly at his entire demeanor, and that stupid grin; but also because of Madge's sudden appearance in this conversation.
"Madge? What the hell does Madge have to do with anything?" I ask coldly, glaring at him now.
"Madge and I have been seeing each other; I told you that," he replies, a small, that irritating grin still playing on his lips; I want to slap that knowing look of his face.
He is trying to make me jealous, I know this. I try desperately not to give him the satisfaction of making me angry, but Gale knows just exactly how to push my buttons, and he knows I don't control my emotions well; I've never been able to. I abruptly push off his bed, rolling my eyes, and stride for the door.
"No," I say sourly. "I guess you forgot to mention it. You know what, Gale? Go back to sleep; I'm going home," I finish as I wrench his door open angrily.
"Aw, Catnip, come on! Don't be mad!" He calls after me, but I can hear the laughter clear in his tone. It pisses me off exponentially more.
But he wants me like this; he wants me jealous. I hurt him last night by pulling away from him, and this is him returning the favor. He and Madge haven't been seeing each other; I would remember that detail. I slam the door loudly behind me.
Suddenly I want to be alone. I don't want to see Prim or my mother, and I don't even want to pass by Gale's family on my way out. I zip my jacket up tightly, pull the hood over my head, and slip silently through the hallway adjacent the kitchen and out the front door. I go to the only place I know I will be alone today, the one place I can always go when I have too much on my mind and need to forget it all. I go to the training center.