Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
With the Hunger Games playing all throughout the day and her family not being home at night, Madge Undersee somehow weaseled herself into the Hawthorne's lives. It started with Posy who noticed the blonde was sitting by herself at one of the mandatory viewings, and followed up with Vick and Rory teasing her just as they do with Prim.
Madge fit in well. Mostly. She knew Gale didn't like it when he came home from the mines and found her at their dinner table. He barely said two words to her. But today is different.
It's Sunday. Gale returns from the woods later than usual, rushing past everyone without saying a word and storming into the bathroom. The faucet of the old rusty sink is heard moments later and Madge looks toward Hazelle expectantly. Maybe she'll shrug, wave it off, give Madge some nod of reassurance, but the woman is busy with Posy strapped to her hip trying to get the little girl's brothers to stop tugging on her pigtails while making dinner all at the same time.
So Madge takes it upon herself to make sure he's okay. She's spent so much time at the Hawthorne's she's managed to build up a bit of bravery. "Gale?" No response other than a grunt of pain. "Gale, are you alright?"
"Ma I need you to—" he swings open the door and freezes at the sight of Madge. The door must've obscured her voice. "What are you doing?" Gale instantly demands.
"I came to see if you were okay," Madge responds gently. "You looked… pale."
"I'm fine," he mutters, going to shut the door. Madge squeezes her foot in the way and prays that he doesn't slam it. When the door doesn't shut he turns back to Madge angrily. "Can you not?"
"Your arm is bleeding," she squeaks out. Before Gale can stop her she pushes herself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. "Sit," she instructs, pointing to the toilet. Perhaps he's shocked into it, but Gale sits. "What happened?"
"Stray dog," Gale murmurs, watching her with his eyes wide. Madge digs through the cabinets and pulls out the antiseptic she knows Hazelle keeps in there for emergencies. "I need it stitched up but I can't reach it myself, the angle is awkward."
"Where's the needle and thread?" Madge asks as she dabs his wound. Gale winces from the sting but manages to get out the location. "I've sewed a few things," she tells him. "I'm alright."
"No offense," he chokes out, his face pink from the cleaner on his cut, "but I'd prefer my mother. She's practically a seamstress."
"She's busy."
Gale doesn't argue anymore, only watches as Madge carefully threads the needle. She has to mentally prepare herself for what she's about to do, considering sewing a person and sewing a dress are completely different. But Gale is watching and she needs to prove to him that she can do this. Bravery. She's brave. Slowly, carefully, she stitches up the gash down his left forearm. She has to pause a few times to catch her breath, but overall Madge gets through the procedure simply.
Once she's done Gale looks down at her work and nods. "I'm impressed," Gale says quietly. "You looked a bit green halfway through."
"Is it alright?" she asks him, sucking in air to calm herself. "Did I do okay?"
He nods and bandages up his arm the rest of the way. "Better than I could've done." Madge nods too and even smiles. That's a compliment, she's sure. Gale looks up once he's done with his cut and hesitates. "Thanks, Undersee." Again she nods. And it might not've been much, but at least Gale finally starts talking to her at the dinner table. All thanks to a bit of bravery.
A/N: A request~