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 with this story.
And the stars burn out, pt 15
Days slip by, frozen winter melting into a soggy spring.
Madge is called back to the Capitol at least once a month.
She's quieter right before she goes, packing her things in silence, slowly turning back into a ghost right before Gale's eyes.
"They provide everything," she told him as she gently placed a set of flannel pajamas into her small bag. "I just-I just like to have something from home with me."
There's food and clothing and entertainment, but no comfort, which is the one thing she's in desperate need of.
A few times, when she's come back quiet and distant, Gale has offered to let her tell the Capitol about them. Then he'd be allowed to go with her, protect her from the freaks.
"They know about that Cecelia and her husband and kids," he'd pointed out. "Maybe we can be like that."
Madge instantly shut that idea down.
"No, no, Gale, remember what I told you Miss Alameda said about Cecelia's family? They belong to the Capitol. I don't want you to belong to them too."
He never would, she should know that. Gale would never let the Capitol control him, but the look of panic, the way she wrings her hands and chews her lip, kill any argument he may have. No act of defiance is worth making Madge sick with worry.
Even if it burns him, Gale keeps his mouth shut, doesn't bring up the idea again.
Instead, he just makes her homecomings as pleasant as possible. It's all he can do.
He trades a few extra pelts for some strawberry preserves. It should make him feel guilty, the pelts could've gone to a coat for Posy or sold to get Vick new boots.
Prim gave Posy her old coat though, and their mom is making more money since the Mayor started giving her his and Matilda's laundry, so Vick's boots aren't depending on Gale's sales alone.
His family's survival isn't entirely on his shoulders anymore, and that eases his guilt over the wastefulness a little.
He holds onto the jar right up until the day before she's supposed to come home.
Even if the jar of preserves is an extravagant gift by his own standards, after watching a man toss a diamond necklace at Madge's feet, he feels a little less than happy about his own offering.
Gale takes the jar with him, hidden in his lunch pail, and sneaks off after work to Mellark's.
"It's for my family," he tells him, glaring and crossing his arms. "Maybe, uh, some bread or something."
Mellark nods, rolling the jar in his hands, lips twitching. "How about a pie?"
Since Gale has only ever had pie once in his life he thinks bread sounds better, but Mellark gives him a sly look.
"Madge likes pies."
A few silent seconds pass before it registers with Gale what he's said.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Mellark's grin widens.
"I noticed Mrs. Undersee was ordering extra a few months back, then I realized she was leaving more at Madge's house than she could eat…" He shrugs.
Gale opens his mouth to point out that none of that means anything, but then Mellark laughs.
"Plus I saw you visiting the Mayor's house during the Tour. I can't really think of too many reasons why you'd be doing that."
"I can," Gale mutters, running a hand over his face.
There's no use arguing it with him.
Madge and Katniss like the dork, and that at least means Mellark is a good man. He'll keep his mouth shut.
Reaching out, Mellark claps Gale on the shoulder. "I'll have it ready before tomorrow."
#######
Just as promised, the pie is waiting for Gale when he stops by the bakery.
"I'll bring by some squirrels this weekend," Gale mutters as he inspects the pie.
Mellark shakes his head and wipes a smudge of flour from his cheek.
"No-"
"I'm not taking charity-"
"It's not charity," Mellark growls, sounding irritable for the first time. "She's my friend too. I'm staying away and...I just want to make sure she's okay. If helping you is how I can do that, then that's what I'll do."
Gale stares at him for a moment, trying to find an argument, before sighing. He's still going to bring them by an extra squirrel or two, but he can understand wanting to help Madge.
Taking the pie, Gale hides it until the evening, sneaking with it up to the Village.
Madge hasn't made it back yet, there had apparently been a delay somewhere in Five, so he sets the pie out on the counter alongside a couple of plates and some silverware.
Hours pass and Gale nods off, his eyes heavy and his shoulders sore from early, long days in the mines, head resting on the cold counter while he waits.
It's nearly morning when she finally makes it back.
Her voice carries through the house, telling Abernathy goodbye, then shutting the front door before her heels click on the tile as she walks to the kitchen.
Quickly as his groggy mind will let him, Gale stands up and smiles as she turns on the light and gasps.
All the weariness melts from her features in a breath.
Before Gale can even say hello, she runs across the room and throws her arms around him, dissolving into a fit of sobs.
"I missed you," she sputters, squeezing him tighter, hot breath cutting through the pitiful fabric of his shirt. "I missed you so much."
Gale buries his face in her stiff hair, inhales deeply, finding her scent buried under the fog of perfume and decadence. "I missed you too."
#######
Madge is in the Capitol when the Quarter Quell announcement comes.
It's the last performance of her stay, and she's about to take the stage when Miss Alameda stops her and leads her over to one of the little televisions mounted on the walls backstage.
"Snow's making an announcement," she tells Madge, her expression grim, her normally unnerving grin absent and replaced by a deep frown.
Snow comes on before Madge can even ask if Miss Alameda knows what the twist might possibly be.
His pale features pull back in a chilly smile as he stands in front of the golden seal of Panem and begins speaking to the country. False platitudes, praise he doesn't mean for the suffering districts that are meant as backhanded compliments.
Then his skeletal fingers pluck the card that will seal the fate of some unlucky soul from the box.
"This year, to show that age is no guarantee of safety, the pool of candidates for Tribute will be widened to everyone in the District." His smile widens. "Excluding Victors, of course."
Madge feels her knees buckle and the air leave her lungs.
Her parents, Gale, all of them are back in the Reaping bowl. They can all be sent into the Arena.
Somehow she ends up sliding down the wall, plopping gracelessly onto the concrete floor, hands in her hair and tears building in her eyes as she tries to make sense of what she's just heard.
Her stomach rolls, all the sickly sweet food and strange tastes bubbling inside her and threatening to make reappearances as she fights them down.
"They can't-"
"They can," Miss Alameda cuts her off before she can even finish the thought. "They can do whatever they want, Madgie."
Madge just nods. Of course they can.
The Capitol makes the rules, they can change them whenever they like. This is the Quell after all.
Her mother must be in a state. The last Quell had taken her sister, and now her neck is stretched across the chopping block once more.
Then there's her father. Being mayor won't protect him, being his daughter hadn't protected Madge. All the things he's turned a blind eye to, all the things he's let slip unacknowledged since he became mayor, might all come back to haunt him now.
And Gale…
Madge doesn't even want to think about his name in the Reaping bowl again. He's a poacher and makes illegal trades, he's defiant, he's every worrisome thing she can think of, and his proximity to her has made him more likely than ever to be watched.
Maybe it's paranoia, but this twist feels focused, pinpointed to hurt her.
They're all doomed, and it's her fault, she just knows it.
Crouching down, Miss Alameda gives Madge a weak smile.
"We'll deal with the fire when it's taken off, okay?"
The knot in Madge's stomach tightens.
She doesn't want to put out fires after they've charred the earth around her, she wants to stomp out the embers before they can destroy anything.
That isn't an option though. This is an unwinnable battle, and both know it.
"Chin up, Madgie. There's still a show to put on."
There's still a game to play. If the worst comes, Madge will need all the goodwill and wealthy sponsors she can get. This is strategy. She can't waste precious moments on crying. Not with everyone she loves possibly on the line.
Taking a shuddering breath, Madge nods, wipes her nose on her sleeve and grimaces. "I need to go clean up."
Miss Alameda shakes her head and holds out a hand. "No time for that. Don't worry, they'll think it's a new fashion."
Despite the darkness of her mood, Madge laughs.
"Probably."
Smoothing out her dress, Madge pulls her shoulders back and blinks the rest of the tears from her eyes.
The show must go on.
#######
"We have to be careful," Madge tells him the second she's back from the Capitol after the Quell's announcement.
She's panicky, twisting her skirt in her hands, a far cry from the calm, smiling beauty that had been on the tv only the day before.
"Madge," Gale cups her face in his hands, forcing her to keep her frantic eyes on him, "it's going to be okay."
It may be a lie, but it's one he believes.
There's no reason to retaliate against her. She's been the perfect Victor, following their rules to the letter. Gale's odds, her parents' odds, are no better or worse than anyone else's.
When he pulls her flush against him, he can feel her heart hammering against his chest.
Combing his fingers through her hair, Gale hums a lullaby until she stops crying.
#######
The next few months are tense. Madge is constantly fretting, too anxious to eat, pulling her hair out.
"Portia keeps having to do this thing with fake hair," Madge confesses as she takes her hair down, losing the extra manufactured strands in the process. "She keeps telling me I need to stop..."
But she can't, and Gale knows it.
"You know, Vick and me can help you," Rory tells him one night, as Gale is trying to sneak out, almost causing Gale to trip over the edge of his bed.
"Yeah," Vick adds, sitting up in bed, as if he hadn't been snoring only minutes before. "We can go up and see her after school. Keep her company."
Gale simply stares at them.
"With Madge," Vick clarifies. "Then she can have more people to talk to than just you and Haymitch."
Holding up and hand, Gale narrows his eyes. "Wait, who said anything about Madge?"
Rory rolls his eyes. "I followed you up there the other day, when you made me quit practicing with the bow early."
Gale groans.
He knew he'd eventually regret taking the little pain in the ass out to the woods to teach him to set snares and use the bow.
"I thought you were just embarrassed that you'd hooked up with an ugly girl and that's why you kept sneaking out so late," Rory tells him. "But I guess it's Madge that's embarrassed, huh?"
Despite the direness of the situation, Gale reaches out and smacks Rory on the back of the head.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Madge isn't embarrassed," he snaps. "She-We're being cautious."
"Is that's what she's calling it?" Rory snorts.
Gale grabs the flattened pillow from his bed and is seconds from smothering Rory with it, when Vick's little hand wraps around his wrist.
"Please, Gale, can we meet her?"
The last thing Gale wants to do is subject Madge to his perverted little brothers, she has enough problems without Vick and Rory skulking around, but he knows there isn't much of an option now.
They know, and the best way to control them isn't by having them sneaking around to follow him.
Running his tongue over his teeth, Gale lets out a long breath.
"Fine." He gives them a stern look. "But not tonight, and you can't tell anyone about this. Madge is still in danger."
"But she's a Victor," Vick points out. "Victors can't' be in danger."
Gale closes his eyes. "Victory isn't all it's cracked up to be, Vick. Look at Abernathy."
A few seconds of silence pass, and when Gale opens his eyes, Vick is frowning, looking somber, and for the first time in Gale's memory, Rory's expression evens out. There's no obnoxious smirk or glint in his eyes.
They understand just how dire the situation is.
Maybe it's the fact that Gale has never been one to keep his opinions to himself, never softened situations for them, that makes them understand. Madge and the life around her isn't a game.
"Madge isn't going to end up like Haymitch, is she?"
Shaking his head, Gale pulls Vick into a hug. "Not if I can help it."
#######
Madge kept her eyes on Gale through the Reaping. Keeping him in view was the only thing that kept her from passing out under the blazing sun.
She didn't hear her dad speak, and only vaguely heard Ms. Trinket make a joke as she took the stage.
Her outfit was worse than last year's, a retina searing shade of orange and heels that Mr. Abernathy eyed disdainfully.
"Maybe she'll trip up the stairs and break her neck," he muttered, more to himself than to Madge.
Absently, Madge nodded her agreement, swallowing down the bile that kept rising in her throat.
Ms. Trinket plucked the first name, an old woman from the Seam that Mr. Abernathy seemed to know, and Madge had felt the first flicker of relief.
Her mother, Gale's mother and sister, were all safe.
It had taken the old woman ages to make it to the stage, up the steps, glare defiantly out at the crowd as not a soul volunteered for her.
"And now for our gentleman!"
Ms. Trinket giggled shrilly as her talon like nails scraped on the glass of the Reaping bowl and pulled out the unfortunate man's name.
It was a man, elderly, dirty and tired looking, but he forced a gummy smile as he took the stage.
"Better me than someone with a family," he'd told Madge later, when they were on the train. "And at least I'll be able to have a nice last few days, right?"
It was a dim view to take, but Madge respected it. Against the beasts that volunteered in One, Two, and Four, neither him nor Ripper stood a chance.
And so went Madge's first Hunger Games as a Mentor.
Her Tribute and Mr. Abernathy's both died only seconds into the blood bath. Madge didn't even get to use the fancy control panel in front of her screen to send either of them a gift.
The odds just weren't in their favor, and they both knew it.
"Maybe you'll get some fighters next year," Mr. Odair, Finnick, told her. He then leaned in, his smile slipping for a few seconds as he whispered, "Just be careful. Annie, well, she panicked her first Game. Her only Game as Mentor, actually."
Mr. Abernathy later explains that Annie had another breakdown when they forced her to be a Mentor. Her mind hadn't completely healed from the trauma of her Games, and she'd dissolved into a mess of screams and tears, sending silver parachute after silver parachute to her hopeless Tribute, wasting Sponsor money and angering people in charge.
She hasn't been allowed back as a Mentor, or at all, since.
Madge supposes that getting to spend no donated money was better than wasting it.
They make her give a concert each night of the Games, right up until the final eight when Miss Alameda comes to her as she studies the sheet music for the night, settled in her dressing room in the back of the Oyster.
"Time to learn the tricks of the trade," she tells her, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.
So after her concert, she goes back to the Training Center, to the room she'd occupied as a Tribute, and packs her flannel pajamas and one of Gale's ratty old shirts in her bag. Portia and the team will bring the rest.
Mr. Abernathy smooths her hair down and smiles, his face wrinkling up severely as he does.
"You're gonna do great, sweetheart."
Madge nods. There isn't a choice. Great is the only option.
He pulls her into a hug and presses a kiss to her temple.
"Just listen to Bird, alright? She's a little pain in the ass, but she's been doing this since she was a kid."
Madge wants to tell him that Miss Alameda is still a kid. She can't be more than a few years older than Madge herself. The words die on her tongue though. This isn't the time for arguments over such trivial things.
Inhaling the scent of cigar smoke and cologne from his jacket, Madge just closes her eyes and nods again.
Mr. Abernathy wraps an arm around her shoulder and leads her out of the hall by her door and into the living area.
Waiting by the elevator, dressed in raven feather black, is Miss Alameda.
She taps the pointed toe of her black heel and crosses her arms.
"Ain't got all day, Mr. Haymitch."
He gives her a soured look before pulling Madge into another hug.
"Be careful."
"I will."
This is the life he'd bargained for her to have, the closest thing to safety and normalcy she's going to get as a Victor. Her life belongs to the Capitol, and she has to play by their rules if she wants to survive.
She just has to make it through a few weeks at most, survive this new part of the game. Then she can go home, back to her parents, back to Gale. The memory of his arms around her, keeping her safe through the night, is already fading. Sleep is going to be nothing more than a distant memory soon.
Gale's arms, his lips, the sound of his heart and the knowledge that he'll be waiting for her when she gets home keeps her from sinking into misery. That's her prize, and she'll do what she must to get back to him.
Taking a step back, Madge gives her most well practiced smile.
"See you when the Games end."
Popping on her toes, she presses a kiss to his rough cheek before walking to the elevator and giving Miss Alameda a forced smile.
"Ready?"
Madge isn't, but she never really will be.
"Does it matter?"
Miss Alameda snorts. "Not in the least."
It's almost funny, and a real ghost of a smile flickers on Madge's lips.
She'll follow Phoebe Alameda into hell if that's what it takes to keep the people she loves safe. From now until the seas dry up and the stars burn out, she'll do what she has to. Forever.
#######
AN: And that's it. This part of the story is over. I'm planning a third story, which will be the last of the 'Madge in the Games' trilogy, and it'll get up once I get a chance to plan it out a little better. Breaking this story into three parts is the best way to tell the story I want to tell without it truly getting overwhelming. Hopefully this part of the story wasn't too much of a disappointment for everyone. I wanted to write this story to explore a 'typical' Victor's life and see how they would deal with the pressures of the Capitol's intrusion to their life, how they'd find loopholes and support each other, with a little romance thrown in too obviously, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy dreaming it up.