Chapter 22

I don't know who is more surprised. Me. Or Peeta. Or Gale. Well, probably not Gale. He looks confused, his eyes narrowing in thought. Peeta is tense beside me, his arm falling from around my waist to his side.

I am simply dumbfounded. "Gale, its me. Katniss."

He turns his eyes down respectfully, and responds, "I'm sure there's no one in Panem who doesn't know the Mockingjay."

My world is coming down. He honestly doesn't know who I am, and he's obviously trying very hard to maintain his professionalism as we stand by the chariot, exchanging shocked, anxious glances. Peeta speaks next. "Gale, you're Katniss's friend," he says slowly. The words are short, measured. He's testing Gale and himself.

"I would be honored for a chance to get to know such an iconic war hero," he responds humbly as he waits patiently for us to follow him. His eyes are bleak, honest.

I'm hurt beyond words. First, Peeta. With the hijacking.

And now Gale.

Its almost unbearable to the point where I'm beginning to feel dizzy. My best friend for years before all of this happened has no idea who I am. Doesn't remember hunting together, surviving together. Depending on each other.

Peeta, detecting distress from both me and Gale, quickly ushers us up the steps of the Justice Building, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to ward off approaching reporters. I numbly let him lead us.

Its when I spot Paylor as we walk through those metal doors that my emotions come flooding out, an unstoppable force. "What happened to him?" I demand, crossing the room with quick, purposeful steps. "Why doesn't he know who I am? What did you do?"

Paylor's bodyguards, a new sort of Peacekeeper, quickly move to stop me, but she motions that they stand their ground. Hands grab me from behind as I'm about to lunge at her. I can't contain my rage. I know the Capitol has something to do with it. The Capitol has taken every other thing that mattered in the past.

"Let me go!" I snarl. Haymitch's voice rings out behind me. "I told you she was going to be upset," he growls out. Paylor nods, having the decency to appear sheepish. I fight against his firm grip on my arms, but Haymitch holds tight.

I'm livid with anger. It burns inside me, the flames rising up and igniting the girl on fire once more. "Tell me!"

Its Peeta who steps forward to deal with me. Its only when Peeta's arms wrap around me that Haymitch lets go and I collapse, the weight of the moment flooring me. Whispers circulate around the room as I struggle to fight the tears that carve paths down my cheeks. I don't care about my makeup anymore. Not when Gale has forgotten who I am. I mean nothing to him now. Peeta murmurs quietly into my ear until I quiet down.

Paylor has moved so she is right next to Peeta, still flanked by armed guards. She is looking at me in concern and it is only now that I am so close to her that I can see the stress lines creasing her face.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. I'll explain first, but it is of utmost importance that we complete the interviews and appearances according to schedule," she says quietly. I'm silent, glaring at her. But I can't help feeling a bit of pity for Paylor. Here she is trying to piece together the country that I had broken apart and I'm doing little to help here at the moment.

"When the war ended, Gale felt badly about... an incident. He moved to the Capitol to continue his work for us." I feel sick. I don't want to hear this from Paylor. I want to hear it from Gale, himself. But Gale has left the room, off to service the Capitol again, I suppose.

"We had just honored him with high-rank statuses because of his war efforts, granting him access to any sort of supplies he needed for his continued research and contributions to the Capitol."

"You mean, you were having him build weapons," I croak, horrified. I should have known though. Gale was very smart. Almost too smart for living in District 12. He knew more about mechanics and inventions than some in District 3, and its no surprise that he was a desirable recruit for the new Capitol's advances.

Paylor nods. "There was something... off about Agent Hawthorne when he came to us, but he insisted it was just the stress of the war taking its toll on him. We put careful surveillance on him when we sent him off to District 2 to continue weapons development."

I want to clap my hands over my ears and stop listening. He went to them because of Prim. I want to scream, to hide myself in a closet where no one will ever have to do with me ever again. But Peeta presses his cheek against my right temple, bringing me back from the brink. I don't understand how he knows, but just when I'm about to break, he's always there to strengthen me.

She continues, her brows furrowing from tension. "Hawthorne was in 2 when he had an accident. He was working on a new explosive, one that would be used in District 12 so that mine explosions would be safer. He often spoke about a mine incident that changed his life."

I close my eyes tightly, but nod for her to go on. The explosion that kill his father. My father. Two great men. Changing my life forever. The pain of losing them ebbs away quickly with Peeta's arms around me and Paylor willing me to finish listening.

"We're still not exactly sure what happened. He was working on the explosive when he suddenly lost control. We dispatched Peacekeeper officials as soon as we noticed his behavior, but he had already set off some sample explosives in his apartment."

"You mean, he blew himself up?" Even Peeta looks doubtful.

Paylor looks grim. "Not exactly. We're not sure if it was a suicide attempt or not. But he was exposed to 2nd degree burns, minor lacerations from debris, and a major concussion when he landed from the explosions."

The images flash through my mind. Gale working on some sort of contraption. The anger. Throwing aside whatever he was creating. Detonating every experiment he was working on. Something set him off, but whatever it was was enough to injure him.

"Is it permanent?" I whisper. I can't feel my fingers, focusing on the cold tile floor beneath my knees. Peeta hugs me to him tightly, sliding his hands down my arms. "You're trembling," he says.

Paylor hesitates, before muttering, "The doctors have been unable to return his memory since he was released from the hospital. There was no coma, but they suspect brain damage, which resulted in the memory loss."

Gale. Determined, hard-headed Gale. Why would he do that to himself? He, out of all people, knew what those explosives could do. Yet he detonated them without hesitation.

I draw in a shaky breath. "Let me see him."

Paylor's eyes are sympathetic, but she protests gently, "The interviews-"

"I see him, then I'll do your publicity shoots."

She hesitates. Peeta's arms stop moving along my arms. Everyone in the room is holding their breath.

"Very well. Take her to Agent Hawthorne."