Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
Gale arrives at the Everdeen manor when Madge is gathering her papers. She looks up and catches his eyes through her hair and smiles at him, and Gale tips his head back. "Need any help?" he asks.
"I think I've got it," she tells him, shuffling them together. "I'd better get them back before my dad notices they're missing."
Gale smirks. "He doesn't know you take them?"
"He acts like he doesn't know," Madge says, shrugging slightly. "But I think he leaves them out on purpose. I should still get them back." Despite saying she didn't need help Gale pushes the Capitol newspapers back into Madge's hands and his fingers graze hers. He can't help but feel like a winner when her cheeks turn pink. A jolt of electricity shoots through his veins and he revels in the feeling of such a simple touch, wondering what it would feel like to get more. "Sorry," she moves her hand away.
"You're fine."
Finally she gets all of the newspapers gathered. Madge has been bringing them over since the announcement of the Quarter Quell, talking through them with Katniss and Peeta and Haymitch and helping them research their competition and learn whatever they can. There are predictions about the arena and the other tributes that will be selected, polls on who might win. Madge is patient and helps in the best way that she can.
"Everyone's outside," Madge tells him. She moves the newspapers into her bag and slings it over her shoulder. "They're waiting for you."
"Mm," Gale turns his head and looks toward the back of the house. He can hear laughter from outside, Prim's laughter high and loud, which makes him think she's running around with Peeta. Gale feels guilty that he's going to have to intrude and shoo away any happy times they're having. "You should stay," he says. Madge shifts awkwardly on her feet and her eyes dart toward the ground. He's never asked her to stay before, she isn't sure why it makes her so flustered. "You could learn something about snares."
"I'd get in the way." She lifts her shoulders. "Maybe you should come early. Learn something about how Capitol citizens think."
"No thank you," he murmurs. He'd rather not be inside the heads of those psychos. Madge can't help but smile. She passes him and starts toward the door. His voice is hopeful as he asks, "I'll see you next week?"
"Every Sunday," she nods, smiling again. Gale smiles, too. "You could start bringing strawberries again, you know," she calls over her shoulder as she leaves. "I've been craving them like crazy lately."
"We'll see," Gale hollers. Madge's laughter fills the air as she exits the house.
Gale lets the silence weigh him down once she leaves. They banter like this every week, brushing past each other on their shifts to help the three train for the Quell. Sometimes he does come early, and sometimes she stays late, but mostly they just pass one another by. That's how it's always been, that's how it will always be. He admires her bravery in sticking out her neck to get the little information that she can, and he likes the way she smiles, but that's all it can ever be.
He refuses to let himself think anything else no matter how much he fantasizes about twisting his fingers through her curls, or pressing his lips to hers. It can never happen, no matter how sweet it would be.
Gale sighs and scratches his head, leaping when he suddenly hears a deep voice ask, "Are you coming?" He turns and finds Haymitch in the doorway near the back. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyebrows are high on his forehead. "Or are you going to pine over the mayor's daughter some more?"
Gale frowns. "I don't pine. Especially over her."
"Don't be an idiot," Haymitch grumbles. He paces toward Gale. "I know you and Katniss had some sort of something, but you don't look at her like you look at Madge."
"I don't look at Madge," Gale snaps.
"Yes you do. She's practically my blood, Hawthorne, I see any and all interaction she has with anyone. I care about her like she's my own daughter." It must be some sort of Maysilee thing, some sort of debt Haymitch thinks he owes. Haymitch has watched the blonde grow up, has looked out for Madge her entire life. "I know how people look when they swoon, and my God boy you do it."
"No I don't," Gale says stubbornly. He tightens his strap over his shoulder. "Let's get outside."
"Listen," Haymitch stops Gale before he can pass him. His eyes are dark, his voice is soft. "Say what you want, but I can see it on your face." Gale's frown deepens, if possible. Before he can object again, Haymitch holds up his finger to silence him. "I love her like she's my own," Haymitch says.
"If you're going to give me some sort of talk about keeping my distance or some shit like that I don't need it."
"I've heard the rumors," Haymitch sneers. "King of the Slag Heap." Gale can't help but smirk. "I know they're just rumors, too. Your mother works for me, Gale. You're not a bad kid. I'm not going to tell you to stay away from her. You can handle yourself when it comes to girls." Besides, Haymitch isn't his father and has no right to lecture him on these things. "But I have a favor to ask you."
"I'm not taking her on a date," Gale blurts, that having been the first thought to come to his mind.
Madge is never seen with boys, Gale can only assume this is what Haymitch wants. Maybe something to make her feel special, more special than she already is. The thought makes him sweat. He'd have to get flowers and dress up because Madge is the mayor's daughter and he'd have to be so prim and proper and find something to talk about other than this playful banter that they have and the prospect of maybe kissing her goodnight has his chest tightening. He'd like it far too much
"That's not it," Haymitch scowls. "This is serious."
"Haymitch—"
"This Quell is not good, Hawthorne." The tone of Haymitch's voice causes Gale to pause. He meets the Victor's eyes. "Things are going to go to shit. I can feel it. And when they do, I need you to get her out."
"Madge?"
"Yes, Madge," Haymitch frowns. "Her family is practically a target, the mayor of the district that has the leader of the rebellion. Katniss has made all of 12 a target. I won't be here when it happens. I need someone to look after her." Haymitch shakes his head, his dark hair ruffling. "Madge may be brave but she's weak and tiny. She won't know what to do." Gale blinks a few times, narrowing his eyes. "If you feel about her the way I think you do, then you'll make sure she's safe." Without giving Gale time to respond Haymitch jerks his head toward the back door. "Come on. We don't want Katniss worrying like she does."
It happened so quickly.
Gale has his head in his hands, blinking back the visions that haunt his waking hours. Fire, there was so much fire he could feel it even outside of the district. And the smoke, God, he couldn't breathe. He rubs his temples and hits his forehead, scolding himself again and again for not being prepared for this. He was warned. He was warned that something was going to happen and he wasn't ready, not like he should've been.
So many people are dead. So many people are gone forever and he feels the weight of this on his own shoulders.
"Hawthorne." Haymitch's voice causes him to lift his head. They're on the hovercraft headed to District 13. Katniss is here somewhere sleeping. The rest of the survivors from the bombing of 12 are here somewhere, too. Or on another hovercraft close by, anyway. "I checked the list," Haymitch says. His eyes are sharp and cold. "Her name isn't on it."
Gale doesn't even need to ask who Haymitch is talking about. He knows he couldn't save the mayor's daughter. He knows he couldn't get Madge out.
He remembers the last time he talked to Madge. They were in town watching the screens of Katniss and Peeta in the arena. Her hand ended up in his. Their fingers laced. His thumb grazed her knuckles. It was the most comforting gesture he had ever had in his entire life, having her close to him like that. He could smell her wildflower shampoo. He could feel her warmth.
"Sometimes I'm scared nothing good will ever happen again," Madge had said. Her voice reverberates in his thoughts and makes sharp stabs to his heart.
He wanted to promise her that things could get better, but he didn't. He just held her hand.
Now she's gone.
"I know," Gale croaks. His voice is gravelly and thick, he coughs to clear his throat.
In the aftermath he checked everyone. Gale called her name. He searched high and low to find the mayor's daughter. He was a madman, running through the crowds and asking if anyone had spotted her. After he knew his own family and the Everdeen's were safe she was the first person on his mind. It was too late to go into the district then, it was raining firebombs.
"I guess I was wrong about you," Haymitch murmurs. "I was wrong about how you felt."
The old man turns away and the words slip out. "No," Gale calls. "You were right." But it's too late for that now. Gale will never get the chance to act on his feelings, the ones he spent so long suppressing because they were illogical. He'll never know anything past the electricity of her hand in his. He'll never get to kiss her, learn her lips and taste the way he wishes that he could. Gale will never hear her voice again, never smell her shampoo, never get to twirl his fingers through her curls. Haymitch glances over his shoulder and Gale can't hold his eyes for his own are tearing up. "I wasn't ready for it," he rasps. "I'm sorry."
Haymitch lingers in the doorway. Having lost someone near and dear to him once before Haymitch knows the pains of heartbreak. They're written all over Gale's face, the sunken eyes and quivering chin. Gale might have just survived the bombing of the district but those aren't the only things causing him to look like this. His heart is small and his chest is tight.
"Me too," Haymitch whispers.
They never speak of Madge again.