Smoke and Music Notes

by SunsetGirl94

SEQUEL to Snares and Strawberries. When Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne return victorious from the 74th Hunger Games, they begin to piece together the shards of their lives. Not a good summary, but please read and review!

4. Advice and Cupcakes

I'm sorry guys I know this took forever and a day but here it is, chapter 4! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, Its because of you guys I was able to push past my writers block! I hope you all like this chapter, ENJOY :D

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUINGER GAMES

Chapter 4

I yank myself from Peeta's arms, spinning around and running back to the fence. I hear Peeta calling me, his heavy footsteps racing after me but I don't stop. I don't stop when I reach the oak tree where the mockingjay still sits, at the damson bush, or the field of wild flowers. I don't stop as I reach the fence, throwing myself in through the hole and out the other side.

I continue my sprint, ignoring the stares and murmurs as I rush past people. I'm almost to the Victor's Village when I collide into someone, knocking into their back and making us both stumble.

"Hey!" the person, a man by the rough sound of his voice, says annoyed.

I don't bother stopping my stride, not even looking up from my feet as I mumble a quick apology before continuing down the path. It sounds like he calls out my name but I don't pay attention to it. It's probably my imagination.

When my house finally comes into sight I run even faster if that's possible, wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind me. I lean against the door, my head resting against the cool wood as I try to catch my breath and calm myself down. I take a few steps forward into my living room before falling on the golden rug.

The tears come now. I can only be grateful that I held them at bay as I ran here. What a scandal it would be, watching the District princess running through the streets like her life depended on it, tears streaming down her face. Well, the once District princess. But I'm not her anymore. I'm too dirty, too broken, too dangerous for that old childhood taunt.

I don't hear the door open, but I do feel Peeta's arms encase around me a few minutes later. He doesn't yell at me for running off or for abandoning him in the middle of the forest. He doesn't call me selfish or childish. He doesn't scold me. He simply holds me, allowing my tears to soak into his shirt as he strokes my hair.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes, they feel swollen and puffy. The sun is barely beginning its descent downwards, the sound of crickets chirping can barely be heard. How long did I sleep?

I sit up to find myself on the couch instead of the floor, a blanket draped around me.

"Peeta?" I call out hesitantly to the dark house.

"Here," he replies. I look up over to the kitchen and find him in the kitchen, making what appears to be two sandwiches. He sits down next to me, handing me one of them as he begins to eat his.

We eat in silence. I want to apologize for earlier, but I already know what he'll say. "It's alright Madgie, I understand. No there's no need to apologize. It's okay." But it wasn't okay, running away like I did. He was in pain too, and I just left him there to face it on his own. But he's too kind and selfless to be angry at me about it, so I'll have to settle with mentally beating myself up over it.

The sky continues to grow dimmer and dimmer. We still don't talk after we finish our small meal, just sitting in the quiet that surrounds us.

Eventually Peeta gets up, kisses me once on the forehead and leaves. "Good night Madge," he says as he opens the door.

I want to get up, I want to walk him out, to hug him and thank him for staying with me, for not being cross. But my body seems to be frozen and no words can escape. The only thing I can do is give him a tiny, fragile smile.

He nods once, smiling back at me before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

The panic that took over me last night when he left is worse now than ever. It's no longer just the panic of the nightmares that always plague me, it's the pain and agony of the day that weighs down the most.

I want to go to the piano again, to drown my sorrow with its notes, but I know that it won't help. It won't fix anything. It won't make me whole again. And that's what I want, I just want to be whole again. I want the nightmares, the guilt, the pain of it all to leave. I want to know how to move on. I want to know how to survive. And only one person can tell me how to do that.

I'm racing out of my house before I can even comprehend what I'm doing, my feet taking me three houses down. To the only other person I've been avoiding like the plague.

I rap my knuckles against the door. "Haymitch?"

No answer. Not that I expected one anyways, it's nearly midnight. My hand wraps around the doorknob. I take a breath to steady my resolve before I open the door.

The moment the door is open I am bombarded with the reeking stench of alcohol and neglect. I gag as the smell hits me, my nose wrinkling as I walk through Haymitch's living room.

Its layout is identical to mine. But, rather than having lavish sofas and rugs, it is relevantly barren. The only furniture in it is an old couch, which has a large dirty sheet draped over it, and a small coffee table that is covered in newspapers, empty bottles and trash.

I hear a loud crash coming from near the back of the house, and I quickly go towards the sound of cursing and breaking glass. Along the way I am very careful not to step in any of the mysterious puddles or dirty clothes that are scattered around the house.

He's in the back parlor, bottles of whiskey and other alcohol littered around him. With his back to me, Haymitch chugs the last of some brown liquid before throwing the bottle against the nearby wall, causing it to shatter into a million pieces. It reminds me of the incident on the train ride home, but not even there did he look this horrible.

"Haymitch?" I say hesitantly.

He turns around faster than I expected, his eyes trying to focus on me. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat, and, before I know what's happening, he lunges at me.

He wraps his arms tightly around me, so tightly that I can barely breathe. He reeks of things I don't want to think about, and I'm frozen in shock as he pets my hair, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Maysilee. Oh, Mays, I missed you so much. Never leave me. Promise me you won't, May, never again."

I blink rapidly as I realize that in his drunken stupor, he believes me to be my aunt. "Haymitch," I say, struggling against him. "Haymitch, it's not-I'm not." He's sobbing too loud to hear my words, asking me, begging me not to leave again. I don't want to hurt him, even with the likelihood that he won't remember come the terrible hangover the next morning. "You don't understand. I'm not Maysilee."

He takes a step back, releasing me from his hold, but he quickly grabs my face securely between his filthy hands. "Don't leave me. I can't take it."

I open my mouth to say something, but he begins to blink rapidly, his gaze becoming sharper.

"Madge?" He says, removing his hands from me, his face taking on a look of surprise and utter disappointment before his eyes gloss over. He then promptly vomits on the floor by my feet, falling to the floor passed out.

I stand frozen over his unconscious body, staring down at him. This is the man I turn to for advice. It cannot get much sadder than that.

Haymitch makes small groaning noises, turning his head from side to side. I grimace as I see the vomit get into his hair. I can't just leave him like this.

I quickly go back to the living room, yanking the old sheet from the couch. Dust flies through the air as I shake it out, causing me to cough a little.

Haymitch lies still in his puddle of filth. I lay the sheet down next to him, trying my best not to get too much of the gunk on it. I roll him onto it, stifling a gag as the stench of his vomit curdles in my nose.

Grabbing the top two corners I drag him into the hall, making sure to lift with my legs and not with my back as Peeta always advised me to do. I slowly drag him into the downstairs bathroom, huffing and puffing all the way. By no means is Haymitch a light man.

When I finally reach the bathroom I lift Haymitch up by his arms as well as I can, rolling and pushing him into the tub. He groans as his head hits the hard surface of the tub. I cringe, thinking about how terrible his hangover will be tomorrow with that bruise on top of it.

"Sorry," I say to him even though he can't hear me.

I turn the shower head onto warm, taking off the removable head so that I can try to get all the vile gunk off of him without having to move him very much. I don't know if it was the warm water or maybe the bonk on the head, but he slowly begins to wake up, stretching his arms, blinking rapidly.

"Wha-what?" he slurs, his head still foggy.

"You threw up and passed out," I tell him, leaving out how he thought I was Maysilee and the fact that he passed out in his throw up.

He says something I don't catch before he clumsily pushes my hands away. "I can bath myself."

Can you now?" I say sarcastically. "I suppose that it is due to your hygienic skills that your place looks so amazing."

He shoos me away, standing up to his feet. "Go wait for me in the kitchen."

I nod once, leaving the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I go to the messy excuse of a kitchen, washing my hands in the sink before perching myself on one of two bar stools he has in there. A long while passes as I wait for him, and just as I come to the conclusion that he probably passed out in the bathtub or completely forgot about me and went back to smashing liquor bottles, he emerges. He's drying his hair with a very ragged old towel, but at least he has clean clothes on.

"So how was your first experience with taking a shower?" I ask him jokingly. "Do you like it enough to meet with it once or twice a month from now on?"

He narrows his eyes at me, "Enough with the jokes. Cut to the chase, sweetheart, what brought you to my humble abode?"

I look down at my lap, twisting my fingers together. "I need help."

"I could have told you that." I glare up at him, and he shakes his head pulling up the other bar stool to sit in front of me. "What do you need help with?"

"I don't know what to do, Haymitch. I can't go back to how it was before but I also can't just move on. I knew what winning the Games meant, or at least I thought I did."

My fingers twitch a little, and I inwardly chastise myself for ever thinking that winning would be simple. "I expected the nightmares and the stares I get but I thought, I just thought that I wouldn't be alone." I look back down at my hands, fighting the tears. "How did you move on? How do you survive?"

I jump in surprise when he lets out a laugh, throwing his head back. "Look around ya, sweetheart. Does it look like I'm surviving?"

I bite my lip as I watch him get out of his seat, throwing open the cabinets as he searches for more liquor. He finds what he's looking for, taking a swig of some kind of clear liquor before he turns around to face me again.

"I never moved on. I never got over my Games. I never got over the nightmares, the guilt. The pain. And I probably never will."

He sighs loudly, taking another gulp of the liquor and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He puts the bottle back in the cabinet, retaking his seat.

My head is down, and I'm cursing at myself for being stupid enough to think that Haymitch would hold the key to my salvation.

"You try." I slowly look up at him and find his eyes are soft and caring as he looks at me with something akin to paternal concern. "You try to forget, to move on. You pretend. You pretend that the nightmares don't keep you up at night, you pretend that the sight of blood doesn't want to make you hurl. You pretend that you're the same girl that stepped onto that stage on Reaping day."

He pauses for a moment, raking his hand through his hair as he continues on. "You go about your life, spend time with your old friends. Make new ones if you can. You go about life pretending that you're not in constant pain. And eventually, if you keep pretending, keep telling everyone that you're okay, then one day you'll start to believe it. And then… and then you won't have to pretend anymore."

Silence takes over as we both stare down at our laps. I know I should leave; it's late, and I can feel the exhaustion of the day wearing down on me. But there's one question that I have to ask before I can leave.

"Is that what you did? In the beginning, when you first got home?"

He shakes his head, "No. But that was the advice my mentor gave me. It worked for him. And there's plenty of other Victors that live by it. Believe it or not, some people actually have lives after they come home from the Games."

I let out a small laugh but it quickly turns into a sob as I throw my head into my lap. Haymitch seems startled by my outburst, but he pats my back awkwardly "What is all this then?"

"I saw them... Gale and Katniss. They-he kissed her."

He curses something obscene under his breath, pulling me into an embrace. "Hush, it's alright. I told you he's not worth-'

"I swear, Haymitch, if you tell me 'I told you so' one more time I will cut off your tongue!" I snap at him.

Haymitch laughs ruefully, shaking his head. "Does it ever go away?" I ask him. "Does the pain of not being with the person you love ever leave?"

"No. It never leaves. But I've never wanted it to." He pauses a moment before saying, "Pretend with him too. When you see them together, or even if you just seem him alone, pretend it doesn't hurt. Try to swallow the pain."

"Do you think it'll work? Pretending."

"I don't know, sweetheart. But it's the only advice I can give you."

I nod my head, turning to leave before throwing my arms around him. He mistaking me for my aunt hasn't left my mind. "Why did she leave us Haymitch? Why now, when I need her the most?"

He wraps his arms around me, slowly patting my back. "I don't know. She told me that what she started out to do is done, and that we are the ones that need to finish it. She would have wanted us to be strong, Madge… She would have wanted you to be strong."

What she wanted?! Her wants are no longer a concern of mine. She left me, she's gone. She chose to leave, she chose to go when she knew I needed her the most. I don't have the time nor the patience to sort out why she left, or what she started that she wants us… wants me to finish.

Haymitch pulls away from me, grabbing the bottle of liquor from the counter. "So what are you going to do then?"

"I'm going to do what I've always done," he says quietly. Before I can ask what that is he closes his eyes and chugs back the rest of the liquid in the bottle.

I wince as I watch him drink himself into oblivion. Drown his sorrows. That's what he's always done.

I turn to leave, opening the front door. "Goodnight Haymitch," I say. The only response is the sound of cork being popped.

I close the wooden door behind me, looking up at the dark night sky. Pretend… I can pretend. Or I sure as hell can try.

---

I wake up in the late morning, sunlight already streaming in through the drapes. I yawn loudly, cracking my back as I stretch. The nightmares last night were different than they usually are. They were not of the Games, instead, I had to frozenly watch Gale laugh at me.

'How stupid are you? To fall for it just like those Capitol fools. To think that I could love someone like you.' His words ring in my head long after the sleep has faded from my eyes.

I'm forcing myself off of the couch where I fall asleep last night when I hear the distinct sound of a little girl laughing and screaming in glee.

"Gale!" she shouts, "Put me down!"

Without my permission my legs take me to the window, my hand pulling back the curtain just enough for me to peer outside into my neighbor's front lawn.

The little girl is his sister, I can tell that much from the black hair and olive skin. He has her thrown over his shoulders and is running around in circles as she squeals in laughter.

"Gale! Gale, stoooop!"

Yes, please, please stop. Go inside your house with your loving family and live out the rest of your gleeful life where I do not have to see and heard it.

The sound of his laughter overlapping with hers is too much for me, and I drop my hand away from the curtain, taking two steps back away from the window.

Pretend. Pretend. Pretend pretend pretend pretend. I drill those thoughts into my head as if it's the only thing keeping me alive.

In a flash of motion, I'm running up the stairs to my bedroom. I knock open the door, not stopping my run as I frantically strip out of my clothes. I turn on the shower, jumping in before it has the chance to warm up. The water quickly becomes too hot for comfort, but I make no move to adjust it, allowing it to burn my skin. I vigorously wash my hair and body, my scalp burning as I dig my nails into it. When I'm done I switch it off and jump out, drying myself with a towel.

'Pretend' he said. I can pretend. I can pretend like no other.

Instead of throwing on the first thing I touch, I take my time searching through all my new outfits. I find a powder blue sundress that resembles one I used to wear all the time before the Games. I put it on, slipping on a pair of ballet flats to complete the outfit. I take time brushing my teeth and my hair, tying it back with a ribbon that matches my dress.

I decide that I'm going to take Peeta up on his offer to have lunch with him and his friends. It'll give me a chance to get away for a while, to talk to people. I can only hope they won't stare with too much disgust and judgment.

The grandfather clock in my living tells me it's only ten o'clock. The school doesn't have lunch until noon. I quickly decide to make a visit to my home. My old home now.

I haven't seen my parents in days, my father being busy as always and my mother announcing she is tired and needs to lay down whenever I'm around her.

I suspect she associates Maysilee with me now, or maybe seeing me in the Games brought back memories of watching May's Games, and now she wants nothing to do with me. Either way, the last time I really talked to either of my parents was the day I came home.

The walk from Victor's Village to the Mayor's Mansion is not very far at all, just about an extra five minutes more than it takes to get to Peeta's house. But the walk is excruciating this morning. Without Peeta by my side, I have to endure the mutters and gawks alone. I keep my head down, my arms crossed protectively around my chest.

When I reach the place I used to call home, I knock timidly at the door. Not even a moment later, Nora opens the door, her usually warm smile growing as she takes me in.

"Madge!" she cries out in surprise as she throws her arms around me.

I laugh a little, hugging her back. "It's good to see you, Nora."

"Oh, it's so good to see you too. Come on in, come in." She gestures for me to come into the house I once called my home. "We've all missed you so much, Madge."

I smile slightly, knowing that her words are not as true as I would hope. My family has no time to miss me. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know me," She says, ushering me into the house, fussing over me as she used to when I was a child. "Same old, same old. But you, now I suspect you have some interesting things to tell me. Such as why I always see you walking home from the bakery, but you never stop in for a quick hello here?"

Her voice is teasing but I can see in her eyes how she expects an explanation.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, looking down at my feet. "I meant to visit. I-it's just been a…difficult transition."

I know she expects more and certainly does deserve more, but that's as good as an explanation I can give her.

Still, she smiles at me, patting my head. "I'm sure it has been difficult. My goodness, you thinner than a bean pole! Haven't you been eating?" I open my mouth to respond but she's already rushing around the kitchen. "Don't worry, I'll make your favorite; how does sweet potatoes and roasted chicken sound?"

I smile, "That sounds perfect."

She grins back at me, and I go to the pantry, grabbing the small yellow apron that hangs there and tying it around my waist. Cooking was never something I excelled at, but I always loved helping Nora in the kitchen.

I find it's not so hard to pretend as I thought it to be. At least, not here, in my childhood home. I stick my finger in the bowl of mashed potatoes, and Nora smacks my hand away, making me laugh out loud.

I look at the clock that hangs above the oven and see that it's only half an hour until lunch gets out at the school. Well, I can always visit Peeta another day.

"Anything else?" I ask Nora, wiping my hands off on the apron.

She shakes her head, "No, I think that's all dear. Why don't you go play something on the piano while we wait for the chicken? It hasn't been played since you left, and I've missed the sound of it."

I nod, smiling slightly as I remove my apron and sit down at my father's grand piano. Even if the one in my new house is newer and far more expensive, it cannot compare in the least bit to this one. I rest my hands gently above the keys, trying to think of something to play. Something happy, something that reminds me of the past.

The melody starts off slow and sweet. It sounds like warm summer breezes and ice tea, like sleeping in on a Sunday morning. It's a joyous little tune, one of the earlier ones I learned.

I close my eyes gently as I play, imagining a tiny little golden haired girl sitting on her father's lap as he patiently taught her each key's name, as he showed her how to make beautiful sounds come of out of the ivory keys.

When the song ends I hear the sound of faint clapping. I smile, opening my eyes and mouth to thank Nora but instead find my mother looking at me with tears in her eyes as she applauds me. "That was beautiful. You're as talented as your father."

I'm frozen in my seat as I stare at my mother. We haven't spoken more than a few sentences to each other since I came back. I thought she wanted to be away from me, that she couldn't stand to look at me because of what I did in the arena, because of Maysilee leaving. I believed in my naivety that I was the only one missing my family. But, by the look in her face, I was wrong.

She comes to me before I can go to her, scooping me up in her fragile arms. I latch onto her, hold on to her as tight as I possibly can. She's sobbing into my hair, stroking my head as she cries. I'm crying too, tears of relief rather than sadness. My mother missed me. She loves me and she doesn't blame me for what I've done.

She pulls away, cupping my face in both her hands, "I'm so glad you're safe."

"I missed you, Mom," I say, sniffling.

She smiles, a real smile that brightens her entire face. "I missed you too."

She hugs me again, and, over her shoulder, I can see Nora, grinning at us. I can't resist sticking my tongue out at her.

My mother eats lunch with us, something that was a rarity even when I lived here. It's been years since I've seen her have a day like this; it's not just her walking around and smiling and laughing... she has life in her again.

She sits next to me during lunch, she gets an entire chicken breast and a heaping serving of sweet potatoes. She laughs as Nora tells me the story of her failed date with the widower coal miner last week, how he didn't bother to shave or even bathe before their date. I play another song on the piano and she sits next to me on the bench, clapping along to the beat of the tune. It's not till almost three o'clock that she says that she is feeling tired.

Nora goes to help her to her feet, "Let's get you to bed then."

My mother nods slowly, but the only move she makes is her opening her arms to me. I wrap my arms around her skinny waist, closing my eyes as she stroked my hair. "Visit more often okay? We all miss you very much."

"I will," I promise her.

She holds onto me tighter, putting her lips by my ear as she whispers, "I know you miss her. I miss her too. But she's better now, Madge, she's finally at peace." There are tears in her eyes as she draws away from me, looking me in the eyes as she says, "Do you understand?"

I nod silently, hugging her once more before Nora escorts her to her room.

Once they're gone, I slump down onto the couch, my head in my hands. Nora will be filling up the needle with morphling now, rubbing a numbing swab onto my mother's arm where the needle will pierce her skin, the poison seeping into her blood stream to put the constant headache at rest for a moment.

I know she's right, my mother about Maysilee. I know she is happy, at peace. And that's what I can't stand. Why should she be at peace while we are stuck in a world like this? A world with pain and heartache and senseless deaths and killings. What has she done to deserve peace when we are left here to suffer?

I know that deep-down, I want Maysilee to be happy. But I can't handle the thought of her being happy without me. Not now, at least.

Pretend, I tell myself, pretend you're not angry, you're not in pain. Pretend you are a happy little Victor without a care in the world.

I glance up at the clock on the mantel. It is only a quarter till three. I might have missed lunch, but I can still surprise Peeta after school. I can still meet his friends then, and I can still show everyone that I am alright. That I'm still the Mayor's perfect daughter.

I hear Nora's light footsteps coming down the hall, "Well she must have been very tired, went right to sleep she did."

Yes, right to sleep after the morphling was stabbed into her arm.

"I was thinking about heading over to the butcher for some fresh meat for dinner. Would you like to join me?"

"Oh, maybe some other time, Nora. I was thinking about surprising Peeta after school," I tell her apologetically.

"Well, that's a lovely idea dear!" She says smiling at me as she puts her boots on. "You better hurry though. School lets out in less than half an hour."

I nod, straightening out my dress as I ready myself to leave.

"Oh wait!" Nora calls after me before I leave. "Here, take these cupcakes to your friends. I bought them from the baker yesterday as a little treat for your parents and me, but I'm afraid they were not too fond of them. You know how chocolate can sometimes irritate your poor mother's head and… well, your father has been too busy for dinner lately, much less a cupcake. Take them to your friends, maybe they'll enjoy them."

She hands me a small box full of half a dozen chocolate cupcakes, all frosted with blue raspberry frosting.

"Thank you, I'm sure they will enjoy them."

I forget to mention that 'they' is really just Peeta and perhaps one or two of his friends that are brave enough to stand near me.

She smiles at me patting me once on the head. "You're welcome." I return the smile, turning to leave when she says, "Madge, dear?"

"Yes, Nora?" I say, tuning back around to face her.

"Don't be a stranger."

My smile grows as I shake my head, "I won't. I promise I'll visit more often." She wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me a tight squeeze. "Tell my father I said hello when he comes home."

"I will dear, now go, off with you! I don't want to mess up your surprise."

The streets are bustling with people, but, this time, as I walk down the main road I don't feel all the stares. I know that in the eyes of my family, I am still just Madge. And that knowledge is enough to allow me to not cower underneath all their stares.

The school isn't too far a walk from my house; it sits right on the border between Town and Seam. I can already see a few parents and older siblings lined up outside, waiting for the school bell to ring.

During my first year of school my mother was amongst the parents waiting outside the school, she would even walk me there in the morning. When she got sick I began walking to and from school alone or with Peeta. Some mornings, when my mother was having a particularly good day, she would offer to walk with me to school, but I always told her no, that I could go by myself. But, as her condition got worse and worse, I began to regret ever telling her I was fine by all alone.

The school bell interrupts my thoughts as a wave of children come rushing out of the building. Parents wave down their kids, beckoning them to come over. I stand on my tiptoes as I look for Peeta amongst the thong of blondes and raven haired children.

I finally spot him as one of the last out of school, talking to a young blonde girl.

"Peeta!" I yell out, waving my arm to get his attention.

He looks up, scanning the crowd before his eyes land on me. Even through the mountain of people I can see the brilliant grin that lights up his face. He makes his way through the crowd, waving his arms at me and shouting my name.

I laugh aloud when he finally comes crashing through the wave of people. "Madge! I didn't think you'd come."

"Well, I got a little held up visiting home so I missed your lunch period, but I do have a surprise to make it up to you." I open the box to reveal the chocolate cupcakes, giggling as he eyes the treats.

Even though the baker's sons often get the stale pastries that won't sell, chocolate is one of the few treats that they rarely get. I take one out of the box, handing it over to him.

"Mmmm thank you, Madgie," he says, licking the frosting off his finger.

"It's Nora you should thank," I tell him, "She's the one that bought them yesterday from your father."

"Mmmm thank you, Nora," he repeats, licking more frosting off his finger and making me laugh once again.

"Peeta?" A tiny voice says. He turns around, and I peer around him to see the little girl he was talking to earlier. "You dropped your book," she says handing him his beat up old textbook.

He grins down at her, "Thank you, Prim, you have no idea the trouble I would get into if I lost this."

I freeze as I recognize the girl's name. Prim. Short for Primrose, Katniss' little sister. I've only met her a few times, mostly when I saw the Everdeen sisters together in the square. Despite her fair skin, blue eyes and wheat colored hair, she resembles Katniss very much.

But even from just looking at her, I can tell she is a much gentler soul than her sister, and I instantly take a shining to her.

"Hi there, Prim," I say waving slightly at the little girl. "I like your braid."

It's a true statement. Her fair hair is parted into pig tails that are both French braided down her back.

She smiles up at me, "Thank you. I like yours too; it's such a pretty color! You're Madge Undersee aren't you?"

I tense slightly, bracing myself for the fear or cold rejection as I nod my head.

To my surprise, her smile only grows. "Peeta has told me so much about you! He says you're really smart. Katniss says so too. She told me at the start of the Games that you and she used to each lunch together every day during school."

I nod again, "That's right. We used to each lunch together all the time." The crowd of school children is beginning to thin as everyone heads home. "Would you like a cupcake, Prim? I have a whole bunch of them."

Her eyes widen as I open the box to show her the contents inside. "Could I really have one?"

"Yes, of course you can."

She licks her lips, gazing at each one before she reaches her hand in the box to grab one.

"Prim! What are you doing?" All three of us jump as the voice startles us all.

"Katniss! Madge brought cupcakes and she said I could have one," Prim explains to her sister, her smile still firmly intact.

I will myself to look up from the ground, to face the eldest Everdeen sister, but, when I glance up from underneath the cover of my hair, I get far more then I bargained for.

Standing there, staring at us is not only just the huntress, but all of the Hawthorne children. Gale has his sister slung over his shoulder, and Rory and Vick stand on both sides of him, watching us. Katniss is in front of the group, her eyes narrowed, and her face pulled down in a scowl. I instantly know that my offer is against the "Seam" code she and Gale value so much: Never take anything for free, especially from a Townie.

"Let's go, Prim," Katniss says at the same time Rory cries out my name.

He rushes past his older brother as well as the stunned Katniss, throwing his arms around my waist. "Madge! I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you."

I carefully put the cupcake box on the ground so I can hug him properly, laughing as he squeezes me tight. "I missed you too, Rore. You've grown," I say in wonderment. "You're already up to my shoulders!"

He grins up at me, standing on his tippy toes to make himself even taller. "Ma says that I'm going to be taller than Gale even!"

I feel Peeta stiffen at my side, probably worried that I'll burst into tears at the mention of his name, which he unfortunately has reason to fear.

But I remain unfazed, laughing as I ruffle Rory's hair, "You just might do that, and then you'll be a giant compared to me." His grin grows even more and I reach down to the box, opening it up for him to see the goodies that lay inside. "Would you like one?"

He begins to nod his head but then quickly looks over his shoulder at his big brother.

I follow his gaze, commending myself when I don't so much as flinch at Gale's hard glare.

"No, we need to get home," He says, his voice steel as he looks at his younger brother.

"Please, Gale!" He begs, eyeing the baked goods.

Gale opens his mouth again, but I roll my eyes at him, "Oh, for heaven's sake, Hawthorne, it's just a cupcake!"

His grey eyes widen as his head snaps to look at me in surprise.

I look away from him, smiling down at Rory as I give him three of the treats, "Here, give one each to your little siblings."

Rory looks hesitant as I hand him the cakes so I plant a small kiss to his cheek, just like he gave to me all those years ago.

His face instantly reddens and he quickly takes the cupcakes in his hands. "T-thanks Madge," he beams up at me before running over to his family.

I let out a small laugh as I look back at Prim who still as her big blue pleading eyes on Katniss.

"Here Prim, take one," I say, opening the box once more.

She looks at me, then at her sister once more. I turn my eyes on Katniss as well, quietly daring her to challenge me.

She glances at me for a moment before looking away, "Go ahead, Prim."

Prim grins widely as she grabs one, throwing her arms around me for a tight hug. I hold onto the little girl, feeling a pang in my heart for some reason as I embrace her. "Thank you, Madge."

"You're very welcome, Prim," I say as I smile down at her.

Katniss calls her with thinly veiled annoyance. "Let's go, Prim."

Prim nods at her sister but makes no move to leave, instead she turns to Peeta and gives him a hug, wrapping her small fragile arms around his waist. He stoops down, hugging her as well.

"You should come and visit again," she says as she pulls away from him. "We all miss you, your visits brightened everyone's day."

He smiles at her, and I bite my lip as I watch the pain soak into his eyes. "Yes, I'll make sure to stop by soon."

I can see Katniss, tapping her foot, irritation leaking into her voice as she calls out to her sister again. This time Prim actually turns to leave, stopping half way to her sister to wave at us.

"Come along, Little Duck," Katniss calls out to her once more, holding out her hand to her sister.

Little Duck. Come on, Little Duck. Little Duck. Little Duck. Little. Little. Little. Bird. Little Bird. Little Bird. Little Bird.

I stare at the back of the retreating girl, her blonde hair slowly transforming to unruly dark locks and her fair skin turning tan as a spear rips through her body and I collapse to the ground.

Sooooo? Thoughts, comments, please REVIEW! I know the ending may confuse some so if you have any questions about anything please PM me I usually respond really fast. Thank you to my AWESOME Beta Reader: Scarlet Meister, who edited this within hours of me sending it to her, you rock! I know the updates haven't been too regular and I apologize for that, I've had major writers block but I am good now :D next chapter will be in Gale's POV(yay!) so stay tuned! Please Review! Kisses from Gale/Peeta/anyone else you want!