Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
AN: As always, thanks to Nursekelly for all the help.
And the stars burn out, pt 9
Madge doesn't remember her prep team coming in.
All she knows is one moment she's in a heap on the floor of the kitchen with Mr. Abernathy and the next she's being scrubbed and shaved, her eyebrows plucked and shaped as Lucius and Cicero lament the states of her hair and skin.
Rain comes down in sheets outside, obscuring the world past the windows. A fitting farewell Madge thinks.
Her lips tingle, still haunted by the ghost of Gale's against them and she licks them to see if the taste of mint and apple still cling to them. It doesn't. All that is Gale has left her, and that's for the best. She can't take him with her, not in any way and trying to is pointless.
He probably hates her. The thought turns her stomach and relieves her. If he hates her he'll stay away, and if he stays away he'll stay alive. That's all that matters.
Anthea squeals as she paints the color that the winter has stolen back into Madge's cheeks and updates her on gossip about people she neither knows nor wants to know.
It doesn't matter to her. She's a ghost occupying space and they don't care if she participates or not. To them, she's nothing more than a plaything. An object, and she certainly feels the part.
Portia comes in, sending the team away and offering choices of dresses for the first official appearance since the night of the Game review, but Madge doesn't have the energy to pick. They can dress her in rags or silk, it makes her no difference.
"This one will keep you warmer but the umbrella matches the first one better," she explains, smoothing out the soft material of a dark colored dress.
When Madge only shrugs in response, she sees Portia's violet eyes soften, her dark stained lips turn down as she crosses the room and gently sits beside Madge on the bed.
For several minutes she simply sits, staring out the window with her, watching the icy water turn the world into a ruined painting before Portia finally sighs.
"I know it's going to be hard," she softly tells her, voice almost obscured by the sound of rain on the roof, "but you have to play. You have to keep fighting."
Rubbing at her nose, Madge sniffs and nods. The game never ends and pouting won't change that.
Standing up, Portia goes to the rocker, where she'd draped the dresses over the back, and picks them up before crossing back to the bed and standing in front of Madge.
"Pick your armor."
For a minute Madge just stares, uncertain what she's heard.
Slowly, all the cobwebs and dust clear from her mind. She's going back into battle, and she's going to spend the rest of her life doing so. Refusing to participate won't help anyone. Even if she doesn't care what happens to her, she's got to put on a show for the people that hold the strings. She's got to make her moves count.
She's got to keep playing the game, even if all she wants to do is sit down and cry.
Her family's lives are depending on it. Gale's life might already depend on it because of her foolishness.
Taking a shuddering breath, Madge nods again.
The show, the game, the fight, must go on.
#######
The electricity is on, Gale can hear the telltale hum coming from the fence as he stands in the cover of the thick trees and bushes that line it.
He'd known it was likely to happen. With people from the Capitol coming in for the kick off to Madge's Victory Tour the District has to put up a front, make them comfortable.
Swearing, he glares around, wishing there were someone or something to take his frustration out on.
There isn't though. Most people are at home, preparing for the mandatory send off. Even if they weren't he doesn't really want to hurt anyone.
Truth be told, that's what he should be doing, but he'd needed a break. All the pomp surrounding something so twisted as sending the victim of nationally televised torture back into the arms of her abusers left him with a helpless, sick feeling.
"I won't be gone long," he'd assured Vick as he'd crawled out their window, avoiding their mom. "Don't worry."
Judging by the anxious look on Vick's face though, Gale knows his brother is going to do just that until Gale crawls back into their room.
He'd just wanted to escape for a few hours, clear his head, but just like Madge, the Capitol is stealing his sanctuary from him.
For a few minutes he stares at the fence, hating it and the Capitol, the mines, District Twelve, and especially the Games.
Picking up a rock he hurls.
The fence crackles a warning as the rock makes contact with the wire, making it clear what would happen if anything or anyone were to touch it.
"You know," an obnoxious female voice chirps from behind him, "that could be misconstrued as an attempt to destroy government property."
Spinning on his heels, Gale glares at the intruder.
Dressed in muted colors, she almost vanishes into the tree line, hidden amongst the bare gray limbs and the few dead leaves still clinging to them, and the earth crunches under her feet as she steps out. A wicked grin twitches up on her lips.
"By the wrong person I mean," Alameda adds.
Crossing his arms, Gale straightens up and lets out a long breath.
He should've known she was still skulking around. Probably the one that put it in Madge's head that she needed to push Gale away.
"What do you want?" He snaps. The day is shitty enough without having to put up with her picking at him.
"Such a charmer." She shifts her filthy bag on her shoulder and rolls her eyes.
Gale doesn't respond, he won't give her the satisfaction, just continues to watch her irritably and hope she spits out whatever annoying thing she's clearly eager to say to him.
Slowly, her lips, stained a muddy brown, slip, flatten into a line and she sighs.
"She's doing the right thing," she finally says, expression somber.
"You told her to do it!" Gale snarls.
"I didn't, actually" she huffs. "She's a smart enough girl. She read the writing on the wall, and she did the reasonable thing. I'm glad she did, that's always an unpleasant conversation."
"Reasonable?" Gale strides across winter detritus, getting within a foot of her. "Reasonable? She needs me-"
"She doesn't need anyone, not if she wants to keep surviving." Alameda's face pulls into a dark look, narrow and hateful. "Caring about people will get you and them killed...or worse."
For the next few minutes they just stand in the shadow of the fence, simmering in their mutual dislike, only the lonely morning breeze rustling the few stubborn leaves left on the trees breaking the silence.
Finally, she sighs, her expression softening as she rubs her eyes, and for a moment Gale appreciates just how young she really is.
"Don't put that burden on her, Dorothy, she's got enough on her shoulders."
Staring at her, Gale feels his stiff shoulders slump.
"But I love her." He can't just walk away, not from that.
She snorts, looking up, her wry expression back in place.
"Love her? You barely know her."
Irritation flaring back up, Gale growls, "I know her good enough."
"No, you don't." She steps forward, jabbing him in the center of his chest with a glossy, gray nail. "You think you do but you don't. You see someone that you think needs saving, but she can save herself just fine. She wouldn't be here if she couldn't."
Gale opens his mouth to protest, but she barrels on.
"This isn't a fairy tale. She isn't a princess in a tower and you sure as hell ain't a dashing knight gonna save her. That's not how this story ends." She pulls back, her hands twisting around the strap of her purse. "We're all just pieces in this game, and she's making a good move. She's saving you."
"I don't need saving. I'm not afraid."
"Then you don't understand the game we're playing!" She snaps. "You, your family, you don't have to be a part of this. Don't be a part of this. Don't be selfish. If you love your family, and if you love Madge, you'll walk away. Save everyone some heartache."
It won't save Madge any heartache, Gale thinks miserably. Even though he knows every word out of Alameda's mouth is probably the truth, he can't walk away. No matter what she thinks, he loves Madge, and he's positive she loves him too.
She wouldn't be so desperate to save him if she didn't.
He's yanked from his thoughts by the sound of Alameda digging in her bag.
Noisily, she shifts things around, grumbling to herself before pulling her hand out.
Gripped in her well manicured fingers is a thick envelope. She holds it out to Gale, shaking it for him to take.
Uncertain what she's planning, Gale takes the envelope.
It looks official, a bland yellow color with a metal brad holding the flap down. He isn't sure he wants to know what's inside.
"That's a copy of your file," she tells him, her voice smaller than he's ever heard it. "Every single thing I've ever dug up on you since the Games."
Gale sneers. "Blackmail?"
He's actually a little disappointed. He'd expected something a little more creative from her.
Eyes rolling, she gives him an unimpressed look.
"What am I going to do, tell her you've got the clap? She should be able to work out your nasty sexual history without my help."
Gale starts to defend himself, he doesn't have any disease, but she holds up a hand and stops him.
"I'm giving it to you so you can see all the trouble you can get into. Being invisible is a blessing, don't give it up." She adjusts her purse. "One misstep on Madge's part and Snow won't hesitate to punish her, and you, her family, your family, will be how he does it."
Studying the envelope, Gale considers her words, her threat.
His whole world, ever since his dad died, has been his family. Keeping them fed, clothed, and healthy has consumed his every day.
Closing his eyes, he sees Rory, Vick, Posy, and his mom.
Can he really risk all their lives for Madge?
At the thought of her name she forms in his mind, tear streaked face and wide eyed, peering out at him from her doorframe.
Alameda is right, but not about what she'd come to convince him of.
The only person at risk is Madge. No matter what Alameda believes, she needs Gale.
Madge is smart, she's a survivor, she won't fail her parents and she won't fail him. He has absolute faith in her. He'd trust her with his life.
He will if she'll let him.
Holding the envelope out, Gale shakes his head. "No thanks."
An exasperated noise rumbles in Alameda's chest.
"Your family needs you, you selfish asshole. Don't throw your life away over someone that's already dead."
"Madge isn't-"
"She is." She points to herself. "So am I. So is Mr. Haymitch. Victors are all dead. We're all just ghosts waiting to get to the other side, and all we can hope for is to make it there with as few casualties as we can. That's the game, Dorothy, that's the part we play, whether we like it or not."
Pushing the envelope back into his chest, she narrows her eyes.
"When she comes back, you keep your distance and this," she looks to the envelope, "goes away. I destroy my records and 'Gale Hawthorne' is just a dumb miner not worth spitting on. You get to be invisible. You get to live."
Chewing his tongue, Gale tries not to ask, but can't stop himself. "And if I don't?"
Her mouth turns up in a small smile, almost sad.
"Then I play my part, if I have to," she tells him simply.
Strangely, there's no malice. It's a job, a part of the game she's trapped in, and even if she doesn't like it, she'll do it.
Gale wonders if there are people she's protecting, people she's cut out of her life to keep them safe, people she loves, people she's failed.
Pushing the thought away, he likes being able to hate her, keep her as some soulless creature from the Capitol, Gale nods. "Alright."
Her dark eyebrows pull together and she studies him for a moment before sighing in resignation. Turning, she heads back into the tree line, stepping over a bush before looking back.
"Think about what you're doing. Just stay away."
Not waiting for a response, she trudges deeper into the trees before being swallowed up into the murky, damp tangles.
#######
Madge stares at her image in the mirror.
There are no dark circles, no tear tracks, no visible exhaustion. Perfect hair, elegant dress, glowing skin, there's no hint that the girl in n the mirror has spent the past few months sleepless and panicked.
She's perfect. She's whole. She's an illusion.
If she had the energy, Madge would smash the mirror. It's nothing but lies.
Instead, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
There's no place for weakness. Her parents are depending on her. Gale is depending on her.
She has to talk to Miss Alameda, she's the only person that may be able to help Madge undo the damage her blind stupidity may have caused. Maybe she hasn't told anyone about Gale yet.
It's the only hope Madge can see.
Until then she has to focus on the Tour.
Opening her eyes, she finds her mother hovering at the door to the bathroom.
"Ready, love?"
She isn't, but no one really cares about that. Her comfort is a low priority.
Forcing a smile, one that almost looks real, Madge nods. "Ready."
Pulling on a heavy coat, one that compliments the dress underneath and finishes off the illusion that the girl wearing them is equally well put together, Madge follows her mother down the steps into the entry.
"Ohhhh!" Ms Trinket squeals as she takes Madge by the shoulders and examines her more closely. "So much better than when we came. You looked absolutely awful. Not that I can blame you. I mean, who is here to impress?"
Awful, Madge supposes, is relative. Ms Trinket's newest outfit is painful to look at. With an obscene amount of gemstones affixed to it and shinning material stretched uncomfortably tight across her body, Madge wonders how she got it on. Maybe being sewn into your clothes is a new trend in the Capitol.
"It's a bit plain, don't you think, Portia?" She asks, gesturing to Madge."You could add some sapphires here, and this neckline is so prudish."
Portia simply shakes her head. "I'm going for elegance. Madge is our diamond girl and I don't want anything to distract from her shine."
When Ms Trinket's face tries to wrinkle up in confusion, Portia smiles. "It's a symbolic."
"Oh, of course." Ms Trinket nods in agreement, though Madge is certain she still doesn't understand.
"Effie, go...do something outside," Mr. Abernathy finally grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. "Get the camera crew ready or something."
Looking delighted, Ms Trinket's heels click loudly on the tile as she goes to the door. She fixes her hair, which has been dyed a shimmery silver and curled up on her head, then fixes a vapid smile on her face before opening the door and greeting the waiting crew.
Once the door closes, the knot in Madge's stomach tightens as she turns, grim faced, to her parents.
"You look lovely, Pearl," her father whispers in her ear as he gives her a hug, the last one she'll get until she returns from the Tour. "Listen to Haymitch, alright? He's going to keep you safe."
Even though she still doubts Mr. Abernathy will be able to protect her from whatever misery awaits her when she becomes fully initiated into the world of victory, she nods. False comfort is all she has to give.
Kissing her cheek, he murmurs an 'I love you' before pulling away, leaving her with nothing but the smell of his aftershave to comfort her.
"Goodbye, love," her mother tells her, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. "I love you."
Portia straightens her dress and coat one last time, spritzs her hair and touches up the makeup, before mouthing the words 'be brave'.
Nodding, Madge forces a smile back onto her face and let's her open the door.
It's time to play, ready or not.
#######
Rain drips from the brim of Gale's cap as he stares at the stage where all of District Twelve will say goodbye to their newest Victor as she starts her Tour.
It's almost an exact copy of when she'd arrived, other than the rain.
The miners had been given the day off and everyone is packed in, umbrellas held high in vain attempts to keep dry. At least the sudden downpour stopped, leaving only a miserable drizzle in its place.
Vick is under a small awning, on his toes and trying to see over the shoulder of the people in front of him, Rory is attempting to chat with one of the girls from Town, Posy is hiding under Gale's jacket to keep dry, and his mom is fussing with the family's lone umbrella, which had stubbornly refused to open.
Finally, she makes a triumphant sound as it goes up. "Get under here with Posy, Gale"
He doesn't point out that there's barely enough room for her under the umbrella, or that it's doing a shit job of keeping the rain off, just picks Posy up and crowds under it with her.
"You need a shave, Gale," Posy tells him, sighing dramatically as she pokes him in the cheek. "You're all prickly."
Grunting an acknowledgment, Gale squints up at the stage. He doesn't want to miss a moment of seeing Madge before she's dragged back into that hell.
Minutes tick by and the crowd grows restless, grumbling and shifting, tired of being wet and cold, when peacekeepers finally appear on the stage as Claudius Templesmith's voice suddenly booms from the PA system.
"And now, your Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games Victor, our Diamond Girl, Magdalene Undersee!"
Effie Trinket, in an outfit so unspeakably hideous Gale actually hears his mom gasp 'what the hell', comes out with a pink umbrella and a plastic smile, waving until a she looks over her shoulder and begins gesturing for someone to come out.
That someone turns out to be Madge, and this time Gale is the one that gasps.
Capitol magic has buffered out all the imperfections, wrapped her in finery, and painted a smile on her.
She's beautiful and perfect, but she isn't real. She isn't Madge.
Waving and smiling, Madge spins on the stage for the cameras once, showing off her stylist's hard work before turning her attention back to the crowd.
Everyone yells, claps and shouts, just as they'd been told to do as they'd gathered up earlier. All part of the show, the illusion for the idiots in the Capitol.
Her eyes, sparkling in the bright light trained on the stage, graze over the crowd, and for half a heartbeat they lock with Gale's.
The pained smile falters and all the fear radiates off her. For those few seconds, the real Madge, all worry and panic and desperate pleas, shines through.
She's playing the game, perfectly, just like Gale knew she would. Madge won't fail, he's certain of it.
She must realize she's staring, because she quickly turns away and refuses to so much as glance towards him again.
"She's beautiful," Posy whispers, her little eyes wide and fixed n Madge.
Gale just nods.
She is, but he still prefers the tussle headed Madge he's seen so many mornings to the jewel the Capitol has polished her up to be.
Finally the camera people have enough footage and photos and Madge is ushered toward the train
And just like that, she's gone.