Gale cracked the eggs, swearing as some of the shell got into the batter. Nothing was going according to plan. The very girl he tried to help ended up a crying, teary mess. Then again, was that really unusual? Katniss probably hated him just as much. As she should.

Probably the most aggravating thing about all of it was that Gale didn't know why he bothered with Johanna. If anyone in Panem was a hopeless case, it was her. Why did he care? She had nothing to do with him, except for the fact that she was sleeping in his apartment.

It flashed into his mind as Gale reached for another egg. Both of them on his bed, tangled together like their discarded clothes on the floor. Gale quickly set aside the egg, washing his hands and then his face with cold water. She's dangerous, Gale. Touch her and she'll tear you to shreds.

That was the odd thing about the way she kissed him the night before. It wasn't like he expected. Johanna Mason was harsh, fast, and coiled like a spring. He had thought her kiss would be like that too. Except it wasn't at all. It was soft, and smooth, like fresh milk, or the lavender lemonade Madge's mother would make and Madge herself would sneak to him in the mornings when they were supposed to be in class. Those days seemed like they happened to a different Gale Hawthorne, one who would toast bread with the girl he loved, and have half a dozen kids, and probably die in the mines, just like his father had. This Gale, standing in the kitchen with a pan of half cooked eggs, should have died months ago.

It wasn't like he had lacked opportunities to sacrifice himself for what he believed in. There was the bombing of District 12, the fighting in the rebellion, and getting caught by peacekeepers in the Capitol. And still, Gale survived. Lately, it seemed like it was the only thing he succeeded at. Katniss, Prim, Johanna…all of them he had hurt by trying to help them. Only his family stayed rather unscathed, but that was because they lived in a separate village. Gale hardly showed up to visit these days.

Gale added cheese and onions going over the scene in his head like he had done all night. Johanna had seemed fine until they stepped onto the tile of the shower.

He felt her muscles tense, and her back go rigid. Nerves, Gale thought. "It's okay; I won't let it hurt you."

Johanna only answered with what sounded like a whimper.

Gale helped her inside, and closed the shower door behind them. "I'm right here, see?" He waved a hand in front of her face. "Johanna, are you okay?"

She mumbled something, and then Gale found himself fighting a wild cat. Johanna Mason came at him with her hands and nails flailing, but her punches had no power behind them. It must have been the drug. Gale pinned her arms down, not interested in getting scratched to death. Like oil in water, Johanna slipped out of his grip, spinning around wildly, looking nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

"Fuck!" Johanna pressed herself against the wall, as if she could push it aside.

Don't people in Seven know how to shower? It sure as hell didn't seem like it. Gale decided it would be best to get the shower over with, peeling back her clothes so that the water or at least, the steam could touch her skin. This time, Johanna didn't fight him, standing as still as a statue. If it weren't for her shaking hands, Gale would have checked her pulse.

Gale smelled smoke. He looked down and swore, noticing his charred eggs. "Damnit!" Unclenching his fists, he reached for another egg, and found the carton empty. "You're kidding me." Maybe there was another one sitting on the counter somewhere. Judging by the pile of egg shells in the trashcan, Gale knew he was out of luck. This is why he preferred living alone. That way he didn't have to cook breakfast and make it edible. He could just eat the leftovers from the night before. Cooking game was different. By the time it was finally cooked all the way through, he didn't care what it tasted like or how much ash it had inside, just as long as it quelled his hunger.

He hadn't been hunting since Prim died. Hunting made him think of Katniss, scarred inside and out, singing like some mad woman, and rattling like Peeta did when he was about to have an episode. Gale blinked. That was it!

Leaving the kitchen behind, Gale raced towards his telephone in the living area. He picked up the receiver, and dialed 0. "Operator?"

"Yes, Mr. Hawthorne?"

"I need a line to District 12." Gale heard a faint buzz, and then the voice of the next operator.

"District 12."

"Put me through to Peeta Melark." The words sounded strange to Gale's ears. He heard the buzz again, and ringing of Peeta's phone. It seemed to ring forever, before someone finally answered.

"Peeta's at the bakery. Can I take a message?" Gale dropped the phone at the sound of Katniss's voice. Instead of answering, Gale hung up the phone. He dialed the operator again, think time asking for the bakery.

"Mellark Bakery. What can I do for you?" The warmth in Peeta's voice was even more nauseating than usual.

"It's me." Gale said, trying to sound casual, but he could hear the defeat in his own voice.

The silence on the other end was thicker than blood. "Oh, hey." Peeta swallowed, and Gale could hear the tension in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

"What exactly happened to Johanna in the Capitol?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Would I be calling you if I had?"

Gale heard a scuffle and a jingle as a door shut on the other end of the line, then silence. Peeta took a deep breath before he continued. He always had a way of pausing right before dropping a verbal bomb. "Do you remember the day she and Katniss took their exams?"

"Yeah, but I already had my hand stamped before they took that test." Gale didn't even remember the faces in the command room that day. By then he was already pulling away. He had planned to die in the Capitol, so he didn't feel the need to make any more friends before he did. First and foremost was the image of the Capitol burning to the ground faster and brighter than the village in District 12.

"Then you know the Block targets our weaknesses."

What could Johanna's be? That girl seemed impenetrable, fierce, and cold like a wall made of iron. "And hers was?"

"Water. They flooded the block as she made her way through."

"She knows how to swim." Gale had seen her do so several times on live television.

"Gale, that's how they broke her." Peeta's strained. "With water and shocks, when the torture and the rape didn't-."

Gale heard her footsteps behind him. Hanging up, Gale spun around, glancing at her.

Johanna seemed like a different person, smaller even. Her eyes looked around the room, and around him, unfocused. Even her hands shook, though she tried to hide it by constantly fidgeting.

"Breakfast isn't ready yet." Gale said casually, trying to stand in front of the charred mess on the stove.

Her eyes met his ever so briefly. "Huh?" She swallowed hard. "Oh. Okay." Her eyes traveled over the ashen eggs before she hobbled over to counter beside him. Johanna picked up the toast, and a butter knife. It fell out of her shaking hands before she got it to the butter. "Shit." Flinching, Johanna took a breath before picking it up again.

"Do you want some help?" Gale watched her carefully.

"No!" Johanna snapped, then backed off. "I'm fine." She glanced down again, buttering the bread.

"If eating from the floor is your definition of fine, then by all means." He gently grasped her wrist.

"Fuck you!" Johanna wrenched her wrist out of his grip. "Weren't you listening?" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, and her eyes stared at him…no, they stared right through him, as if he wasn't even there. "I didn't get raped by my fucking guards just so you could hold my fucking hand!"

And so it was Gale's turn to drop his butter knife. The seconds seemed like days as he stood back up with a knife that had turned to lead in his hands. Gale forced himself to meet her eyes, and then he noticed her tears. "I-"

The phone rang again, making them both jump.

Gale picked it up, watching Johanna closely. "Hawthorne speaking."

"Can I talk to Johanna?" It was Peeta again.

"Sure—"

Johanna wrenched the phone from his hands. "What is it, breadboy?" She rolled her eyes as Peeta said something on the other end. "I'm fine. I haven't had any since…yesterday." Smirking, she added, "I'm practically sober."

Gale quietly stood up as Johanna started talking about Dr. Aurelius, whom Johanna thought was a total quack. He slipped the morphling from the living room, and walked it over to the bathroom. His days as a hunter paid off, for Johanna didn't look up until Gale had flushed the drug down the toilet. He turned around just as the phone clanged against the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her eyes were lethal, and Gale could see the white in her knuckles.

"Doing you a favor."

"I'm not one of your projects, Gale." She said evenly, calmly even. Gale knew enough about her to know that meant trouble.

"I know that—"

Johanna stepped closer, speaking softly. "And no matter how well you fix me, it'll never bring her back."

"Who?"

"Who else?" She was within kissing distance. "Primrose Everdeen."

Gale took her by her arms, slamming her against the wall.

A/N Apparently I needed a significant amount of angst to get inside Gale's head. again. He's a tricky one, as he doesn't talk much in the books. I also wanted to provide a different perspective of the shower scene, as Johanna might not be the most reliable POV right now.