Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.

When the hovercrafts appeared, things went to shit.

Things were already pretty shitty, but somehow in a matter of seconds everything got worse. Everyone was starving, dirty, tired, thirsty, and dying. Then the hovercrafts appeared, and they had to add panicked and terrorized to the list.

Gale was out checking snares when it happened. There were too many people to feed and he was trying his damned hardest so he was out at the crack of dawn trying to get something to pass around. It was helpful and wonderful and all that jazz, but that meant Gale was all the way across the woods when the hovercrafts appeared. He couldn't run fast enough.

There was so much screaming he was sure that they were being bombed again, that the Capitol had doubled back and dropped more firebombs even though he'd thought they were in the clear. But the air was still fresh and the heat wasn't from bombs but a normal summer afternoon.

It wasn't until he collided with someone did he stop sprinting toward the panic. Instantly his nose was gushing with blood and the girl he'd ran into crawled over to him, spitting out apology after apology.

"What's going on?" Gale finally managed to croak, only half realizing it was Madge Undersee that he'd bumped into. "What's happening?"

"Hovercrafts," she told him. "People just split up and started running to get away."

"Did they have the Capitol's emblem?" he asked as she used the sleeve of her too-big shirt to wipe up some of his blood.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It happened so fast, but Gale I–I don't know if it's safe."

Looking at Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter up until a few days ago when a bomb had made sure there was no mayor left to survive, caked in ash looking more scared than Gale had ever seen her, he had to make a choice. Either run into the chaos and figure out what was going on, or get the fuck out of there.

He let out a shuddering breath. "Did you see my family?" he asked.

"They ran with the Everdeens," Madge told him. "They got away."

Maybe they could skirt around the skirt around the madness and find them. "Come with me," Gale said. "Show me where they went."

Madge led him through the woods, neither of them daring to get too close to the hovercraft that had landed in fear of what would happen. Together they searched for his family, avoiding the screams of terror and shouts of something else and the hovercrafts at all cost. They searched well into the evening, and once it was too dark he and Madge finally sat down.

"What do we do now?" she asked. Gale was exhausted. His stomach growled. Had whoever was sent on the hovercrafts killed everyone? It was starting to get quiet. Maybe they were saviors, but he couldn't risk that. Not after he'd come so far to stay alive. Had they killed his family? Had his family gotten away? Madge must've realized how upset he looked, because she reached out to him. "We can keep looking," she insisted.

After a few minutes of silence, Gale shook his head. The bombing of 12 would be all over the country as a warning, but he knew deep down that it would only inspire more rebellion. He had to help them, somehow. Maybe find his family in the process if they'd gotten away. Hazelle was smart, so was Rory. They'd be able to survive if whoever was on the hovercraft hadn't killed them.

"We have to get out of here," he said. "Head West. Try to get to 11, or 6."

And because Madge had no one else, and she trusted Gale with her life, she nodded her head. "You lead and I'll follow," she told him.

It wasn't easy. But to be fair, he didn't expect it to be.

Madge wasn't used to being in the woods, and she wasn't the best conversationalist. Gale supposed he could've found a larger group of people to head West with, but Madge had helped him search for his family. And though it would've been easier to be alone, he didn't want to risk that either. So despite everything, the past prejudice and snappy remarks, he was stuck with her.

She walked behind him trying her damned hardest to be quiet in case he wanted to hunt, but Gale couldn't find much game to shoot anyway. They walked for days, hungry and tired, taking turns sleeping just in case something were to happen. The days were hot and long and Gale wished he had a change of clothes because not only was he covered in ash but he was so damp with sweat that he felt like he was drowning.

Madge didn't complain, which was helpful. She ripped off the hem of her shirt to tie back her hair but it made her shirt a little smaller than intended. More than once he got a glimpse of her pale stomach. More than once she stopped him from walking into a tree, and he'd mutter out a quick and quiet thank you.

It was thanks to her that they found a clean stream, so clearly she was good for something.

The night before they found District 6, Gale heard her crying softly into her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sniffle when he tipped his head in her direction. "I–I know you didn't ask for me to come with you or anything, I'm just–I'm such a burden, and–"

"Stop," he cut her off. She swat at her eyes. "I'm exhausted too," Gale said gently. And his chest ached constantly, worrying about his family, worrying about Katniss. "I'd go out of my mind if I were alone," he told her. Even if they didn't talk much it was comforting to have someone by his side.

Madge wiped at her tears. "I'm no good at this."

Gale shrugged, looking away from her and down at the fire he'd made. "You're still alive," he said. "That's something."

Still she sniffled, and Gale knew deep down that it was more than not being good at surviving. She lost her parents in one bomb and barely made it out herself. Miss Everdeen had treated a few of her burns but she must've still be in some pain too.

Fuck it, Gale decided that Madge Undersee was strong. He handed her over one of the canteens they'd collected while looking for his family and allowed her to sip some water. This seemed to calm her down a little.

And then the next morning, they found District 6. The relief on Madge's face was tangible, Gale felt very similar. The only problem was that District 6 was just as guarded as District 12 - if not more.

While he was brainstorming, Madge spoke up, once again providing her usefulness. "We're going to have to get on a train," Madge told him as they crouched outside the fence, staring at the tracks. "The train'll stop before they go in because they have to open the gate. It's maybe a two minute pause. That's our chance."

"How do you know?" Gale prompted.

"My dad was mayor," she answered simply. Gale didn't have a chance but to trust that she knew this information completely. "It might be difficult, they might be looking for strays on the train. But if the Capitol really did come back for the survivors of 12 then I doubt they'd be looking for us. They'd assume everyone was dead."

Gale scrubbed at his face, nodding his head. "And then once we're inside?" he asked. "What then?"

"I guess we figure it out when we get there."

They both managed to get on the train easily enough, it was the getting off that was the hard part.

When the door swung open and a man no older than 30 started unloading packages–he spotted them. Gale was normally so good at thinking on his feet, he'd managed to save himself from execution over winter when he'd tried selling that turkey, but he was frozen now.

And again, Madge spoke up. "We were trying to run away," she lied.

The man didn't look as though he believed her, but his lack of Capitol attire told both of them that he wasn't a peacekeeper. Just a D6 citizen. He looked exhausted. "Get out of here now," the man said, "and I won't report you, okay?" As Madge and Gale crept out of the train he shook his head. "No where to run anyway…" he murmured.

They slipped into the crowds without a problem. There were just as many homeless in District 6 as District 12, but being out on the street was too risky and Gale didn't like that. Also all of the homeless here looked skinny, hazy, like their minds were elsewhere. Morphlings, Gale remembered. Just as Gale was about to ask Madge what they should do she took a turn, heading straight for town.

"Are you crazy?" he nearly hissed. One wrong move and they would be executed. "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me," Madge said. She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd.

Much like in District 12, the square had been turned into a torture zone. There were so many people in the stocks that they were full, and peacekeepers stood tall with guns ready to fire anyone who misbehaved. Barely even looking Madge continued to make her way through the many people.

"Excuse me," she finally stopped a little kid, maybe about six years old. The boy looked up at her nervously before looking at nearby peacekeepers. "I was just wondering if you knew the way to the mayor's house?" she asked sweetly.

Wordlessly the boy extended his hand to a sign that said Main Street, and also like in District 12 that must be where the mayors house was. She said her thanks and continued to pull Gale along. "You're going to get us killed," he growled.

"Trust me," Madge said again, this time nearly pleading.

And he didn't want to, but he didn't have a choice.

When they reached the mayor's Gale wasn't surprised that like District 12, the house was nearly exactly the same. Too large and too extravagant for any one family. Madge wedged her way through the back gate and brought Gale with her and then marched up the back porch like Gale had done a hundred times when selling fruit.

She knocked once, and soon enough a maid answered the door. "I'm here to see Mayor Burnstein," she said. The maid looked taken aback at how upfront she was-or maybe just how sober she was. There was a clarity in Madge's eyes that made even Gale pause, despite his nerves. "Now."

"Horace," the woman called back, distraught that someone had shown up on the back porch. "It's one of those junkies again!" Gale sighed and Madge squeezed his hand a little tighter. District 6 was known for their morphling addictions, something he was sure that Madge knew.

Soon a short, balding black man appeared looking frustrated. "I've told you," he started angrily, but stopped at once. He turned to look at his maid. "Miriam, these are not addicts," he said simply. Almost as if checking, he looked in their direction for confirmation. Madge nodded. Gale felt tense. And then, slowly, the man squinted. "I know you," he said.

"Mayor Burnstein," she said. "I'm Leon's daughter. I'm Mayor Undersee's daughter."

He swept them inside and told them not to speak, ushering them upstairs quickly and ordering them to bathe. Gale went first while Madge disappeared with the mayor, and he couldn't help but feel grateful he had Madge by his side. Just days ago he'd been in the woods and now he was scrubbing the horrors of the bombing from his skin. There were clean clothes waiting for him when he was done, and Madge slipped into the shower after him.

When she returned, Gale was amazed at how golden her hair was. He'd forgotten how bright and beautiful she was. With the memory of that night finally scrubbed away she looked like a new person, lighter and more free. But also, somehow, she didn't look like the mayor's daughter anymore. She looked older, more tired, with dark bags below her haunted eyes.

"You saved our skin," Gale murmured, and she shrugged. "No, thank you."

"Gale–"

"I wouldn't be here without you," he said firmly. "Thank you."

She turned pink, Gale pretended not to notice. Soon Mayor Burnstein found them with two files in his hands. Apparently the Capitol had been bombing places in town for a few days now - nothing as extreme as District 12 but enough to scare them, and people were fleeing. As long as Madge and Gale went to the far end of the district, District 6′s equivalent of the Seam, then no one would know they didn't belong.

"There's a woman there, Scotts," he said. "Find her. Tell her your full story. She'll house you as long as you need. You can trust her." Mayor Burnstein looked slightly nervous. "If the wrong people find out who you are…"

"We'll be careful," Madge said.

Because no one could know that two unlikely civilians from District 12 had managed to survive. Both she and Gale knew that.

It took them longer than expected and it was nearing nightfall before they finally found the house Mayor Burnstein had directed them to. Honestly Gale wished he had one night in the mayor's home to get a good night of sleep – he needed it – but he knew it would be too risky. It was too risky to even house them for a few hours, so Gale tried to be grateful.

When they found the home, Gale reached for Madge's hand again. "We need help," he said to her as her door opened.

The woman ushered them inside immediately. "Name's Scotts," she said to them, verifying that they were in the right place, before shutting the door quickly. "Are you from town, I'm guessing? Haven't seen you in these parts, and those houses are getting blown up daily. Smart to get away."

"Actually," Gale cleared his throat. "We're from District 12. " Scotts whipped back around to face him. "My… wife, and I," Gale said, somewhat reluctantly, "got away. Mayor Burnstein sent us to you."

"You're from 12?" the woman asked for verification. Gale and Madge both nodded. She took in their appearance, clean but exhausted. "You hiked through uncharted territory?" she prompted. "After your district had been bombed?"

"We didn't have much choice," Madge supplied, hugging her arms to herself.

"Well, shit," Scotts said, dragging her hand through her short hair. "What the hell am I supposed to do for two people who don't belong here?"

Scotts had a sister that had died recently, living in town that was far enough away that people in the place she lived didn't know her, so that was the lie they went with if anyone were to ask. It was the one that Mayor Burnstein had supplied them with, the files he gave them earlier. So Madge pretended she was Scotts sister and that Gale was her husband.

They slept in a backroom in Scotts small home in District 6′s equivalent of the Seam, sharing a small cot. "Why'd you tell her that I was your wife?" she asked. The bed was big enough that they weren't touching but both were turned facing one another. "Scotts doesn't seem to care about that?"

"Maybe not," Gale muttered. "But we are not splitting up. I wasn't going to risk it."

Madge turned to look at him. She looked so small in the moonlight, so tired. "What if she turns us in?" Madge asked. "Do you trust her?"

"The only person I can afford to trust right now," Gale murmured, "is you." Not Mayor Burnstein, not this Scotts woman. "But we don't have much of a choice at the moment to go anywhere else. Do we?"

She sighed. "I guess not." She hesitated slightly. "Mayor Burnstein's a nice man," she said to Gale as though this would reassure her. "I might not know him too well, but he's had his chance to turn us in, hasn't he?"

Gale sighed too. "Just get some sleep, Undersee."

She didn't say anything in response. But she did curl away from him, falling asleep quickly.

Gale was worried that he had a slightly recognizable face. Anyone who paid attention to the Games well enough might have been able to tell he was from District 12. But thankfully (or unthankfully), Scotts was right that people in town were fleeing. No one seemed to know anyone around this neighborhood or pay too much attention to who was rapidly arriving.

They fit in perfectly. It was incredible luck.

"No one's really getting work these days," Scotts said, "so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to get money to feed you two."

"We can help," Gale offered. "Whatever you need us to do."

That was how Madge became a messenger (despite Gale's protests) and started getting money under the books. That night on the cot Gale grumbled over and over again before Madge stopped him.

"I'm sneaky and I'm quick," she told him. "I don't belong here anyway so no one'll notice me." Gale still didn't like it. "I got us in the district, I got us cleaned and housed," she reached up and tipped his chin, forcing Gale to look at her. "I can do this too."

Gale thought about what he told her earlier, that he wouldn't be here without her. She was weak in the woods, but here she thrived. Gale did just the opposite. "I can't lose you," he said clearly. "Do you understand?"

A small smile filled her face. "Don't go getting sentimental on me, Hawthorne."

"Madge," he nearly growled. "You are all I have now."

Her smile slipped away, despite his words. "So are you, for me," she said. "But this is what we have to do now. If you can be an informant and a rebel, I can be a messenger. You kept me alive on the journey, now it's my turn to help."

But the journey isn't over, Gale thought. It was only just beginning.

It was as though being in the District had transformed Madge completely, as though it had given her a new purpose. It was only days since he heard her crying in the night and now he saw her with fire in her eyes, with a determination to learn things, to change things. Gale was astounded, amazed, intrigued.

She came back every night with news, what Peacekeepers were on Team Mockingjay, who had started up a radio feed with District 11, where the black market was moving, and Gale shared his knowledge of what movements were being planned, what sort of strikes, what sort of fights. It wasn't until one night, about two weeks after they'd arrived, did Madge arrive home panting out and out of breath.

"District 13," Madge rasped. "It's still there." Gale frowned at her, and she stepped forward insistently. "Trenton–the guy who works the radio? He made contact."

"Madge," Gale tried, but she stopped him at once.

"They've been living underground."

"It could be a ploy," Scotts said. "Something the Capitol set up."

"Trenton thought so too, so they pinged the location. It's really there, I heard so myself."

"But how do you know?" Gale asked.

Madge looked pale, her eyes darting down to the ground. "Haymitch," she said. Gale paused, never really expecting to hear that name again. "That's who was talking. It was Haymitch."

That night they were bombed.

Not as intensely as District 12 was, of course not, but enough that Gale and Madge sat up straight in bed and clambered to get out of Scotts's house. The ground was shaking, and people were screaming, and just a few streets down was a fire so large it lit up the night.

Madge fumbled to get closer to Gale and he pulled her close, looking toward the sky. "Doesn't look like there're any more hovercrafts," he said gruffly, but Madge was shaking just as much as the ground. "We should help," Gale said. She nodded, though hesitantly, and together they started off for the fire.

Madge tended to wounds while Gale kicked and pulled burning boards from the rubble, looking for survivors. With ash under his fingernails and sweat on his brow Gale felt helpless, but slightly less-so than when the bombs hit 12. They found 18 survivors in the area they'd been searching, most of them children, and though they were now parent-less at least they were alive.

When blue started to streak in the sky and the sun began to rise, Gale dragged Madge back to their room in Scotts's home. They were both covered in ash and sweat and it reminded him too much of the night after the bombing. He was sure she was thinking the same thing. Normally they slept on separate sides of the cot but Gale pulled her toward him that night, allowing her to nuzzle into his chest.

"We're safe here," he told her.

"Obviously we aren't," she bit back. He could hear the panic in her voice, and truth be told he felt it too. He toyed with the ends of her hair, willing her to fall asleep. "That could be us tomorrow."

"It won't be," Gale insisted. It couldn't be. They haven't traveled this far, come this far, to be killed by another bomb.

"It was Trenton's home," Madge said. "With the radio." Gale pulled her closer. That was all the verification he needed–that District 13 was real. That the Capitol had found their link in communication. "I'm so tired," she whispered.

And Gale knew that tired meant scared. Because he was too.

Gale got shot.

He was in one of the staged rebellions in the square, freeing those from the stocks who'd been there, and he got shot. It was a through-and-through to the shoulder but Madge wouldn't stop freaking out.

When he returned home, bleeding and exhausted but feeling fulfilled that they'd gotten their goal accomplished of freeing those who'd been tortured, Madge ordered him to sit down.

Scotts was out doing her own work and Madge quickly cleaned his wound. "If I'm not allowed to die," Madge grumbled as she worked, "then neither are you! You can't go off getting shot, Gale!"

He kept trying to swat her away so finally she gave up, sitting on his knee so he couldn't keep pushing her. "It's fine" he insisted through gritted teeth as she dabbed the wound with alcohol.

"Shut up," she muttered back. Soon his shoulder was wrapped and bandaged and she was still incessantly worrying. "I mean you did good," Madge said, mostly to herself, "but you can't do things like this." Her voice was pleading. "I know you want to help this fight, we all do, Gale. But if you die–"

"I'm not going to die," he stopped her.

Gale watched as her eyes dropped to his lips before climbing back up to hold his gaze. "Promise me," she whispered.

Gale felt his own eyes growing dark, watching Madge's lips as well. "I promise," he breathed. With a short breath she stood, muttering something again about how reckless he was being.

A few nights later, Madge came home looking pale. Gale was exhausted, he'd spent the day down the street helping clean up the wreckage from the bombing a few days ago and helping tend some wounds from the bombs as well as their protest the other day. He wasn't the greatest but he could clean burns, and it was the little things that helped in these moments. Rebuilding after destruction.

Finally he brought it up. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, trying to be slightly teasing because there wasn't nearly enough of that these days, but she only frowned more. "What happened?"

Madge bit her lip. She looked between Gale and Scotts and her eyes became wet. "Remember when hovercrafts came outside of 12?" she asked. "And we ran?"

Gale frowned, too. "Obviously." He wouldn't be here if that hadn't happened, if they hadn't fled.

"It wasn't Capitol hovercrafts," Madge said. "They were from 13."

She was staring at the ground but Gale felt cold. "What?"

"They were coming to take us all to 13," she elaborated quietly. "They were coming to save us."

With that she stood and marched from the room, slipping into the back room she shared with Gale. Scotts and Gale exchanged a few glances but the red head didn't say a thing, clearly not know what to say. So after a few deep breaths Gale too stood and followed Madge to their bedroom.

"Madge," he started, but stopped when he found her staring out the small back window and hiccuping with tears. "Madge," Gale tried again.

"This is all my fault," she blurted. "We're here because of me. If you–if you had just ran back in-into the center of c-camp like you were t-tying–"

"Stop."

"Then you'd be s-safe and not h-here but I told you it wasn't s-safe I told you that–"

"Stop."

"–that it was b-bad and so we r-ran and n-now we're here and not t-there and–" Madge scrubbed at her face before wrapping her arms around herself. "God dammit! This is all myfault!" Gale strode toward her but she curled further away. "No! Don't you–don't you dare b-baby me, Gale Hawthorne!"

"Jesus Christ, Undersee–"

"No!" she snapped. "You could be with your f-family! You could be actually helping the revolution!" Madge's voice got louder with every word. "And because of me you're stuck here!"

Without letting her get in another word Gale stepped forward again, cupping her cheeks and forcefully pressing his lips to hers. Madge gasped into his mouth and it took a moment but soon her lips started moving in time with his. Her hands fisted his shirt as he desperately pulled her closer. Together they stumbled and he pressed her to the wall, kissing her until neither of them could manage a breath. Then they parted, and he pressed his forehead to hers.

"This is not your fault," he murmured, needing her to understand this. "It's their fault." Madge tried to shake her head and Gale quickly dipped to kiss her again. "It's their fault we're so terrified. It's their fault you ran in fear. You had every right to believe it was someone coming to kill us."

"But if I had just let you go–"

"Stop it," he ordered. "There's nothing we can do about it now. Okay?" His thumbs carefully brushed her cheeks as he debated with himself.

Of course he was angry now that he hadn't run into the chaos, but that wasn't Madge's fault. He could've ignored what she said and sprinted into the center of camp to figure out what was going on. Instead he ran, also scared for his life.

"We have to get you to 13, Gale," Madge said softly. "That's where you belong. Not here."

He ignored the words he knew were true, that he belonged in 13, and bent to kiss her again. It was something they'd have to figure out tomorrow.

A propo airs that night with Peeta, and Gale feels anger churning in his stomach. He calls for a ceasefire, tells everyone to put down their weapons, to stop fighting. He wants to scream.

Madge doesn't. "He's alive," she said to Gale. "That's–he's still alive, Gale."

"But what he's asking–"

"Peeta doesn't want that," Madge stopped him. He supposed she would know better than he does, he was never a big fan of the boy with the bread. "He's probably reading from a script. Or…" she trailed off as an idea struck her. Madge turned to him. "She's alive," Madge rasped.

"What?"

"Katniss," Madge elaborated. "He's saying this because Katniss is still alive!" Gale shook his head. He could believe in 13, he could believe that his family was safe, but he couldn't believe that Katniss had made it out okay. "She must–she must be in 13. And Peeta's trying to protect her! It makes sense!"

"Madge…" he trailed off, not wanting to even entertain the idea.

"Think about it," she said. "The Capitol would be rubbing it in our faces if Katniss was dead and they haven't said a thing. And now they're showing Peeta supporting them–something he would never do–for what? Because if they all end this now then maybe he could save Katniss. That's all Peeta's ever wanted to do."

The thought made Gale feel bitter. "Maybe," he muttered.

"I'll check with some people tomorrow," Madge said. "You'll see."

By the time Madge was able to find out anything about the Mockingjay, another propo aired. This one cut through the feed of the TV they were watching, it showed Katniss in District 8 screaming about fighting President Snow. About burning, how everyone was burning.

Gale couldn't breathe. And Madge stayed silent.

That night as he went to pull her close, she hesitated. "When we first got here," Madge murmured, "you said that I was all you had." Gale propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. "But that's just–it's not true, Gale. Your family is alive in 13, and Katniss is alive too. I'm not all you have." She rolled to face the ceiling. "We don't have to pretend like I am."

Two months. They'd been at this for two months, and Madge wanted to pretend like she wasn't important to him?

"You've saved my life countless times," Gale nearly growled. "You've helped more in this rebellion in 6 than I have at all. Madge–what the hell are you talking about?" She continued to look at the ceiling, her eyes filling with tears. "Sure, you're not all I have, but that doesn't mean you're nothing to me."

"Everyone knows that you love Katniss," Madge said simply, though he voice wavered. "And when you get back to her–"

"Who says I'll ever get back to her?" Gale snapped.

She whirled around to look at him. "And when you get back to her," Madge enunciated clearly, "you'll fall for her all over again. And she'll fall for you. Because it was always meant to be you two. Not you and me. And I don't want to be the in-between girl."

"You aren't," he insisted. Gale draped his arm over her waist and tugged her to face him. "You're important to me," he said clearly. "You…" Gale was never the greatest at getting his feelings out. "You've made me hopeful," he said softly. "You've given me a purpose here, Madge. You aren't an in-between girl."

Her eyes looked wet again. "I guess we'll see," she whispered. "Won't we?"

The president decided to give a speech, and attendance was mandatory. It was raining, and Madge and Gale bundled up before trudging to the square. They weren't taking blood samples anymore despite being mandatory, and they probably could've gotten away without going, but Madge thought it was important so they went.

They shouldn't have.

Gale watched as Peacekeepers brought known rebels from their small band in the back neighborhood of D6 to the front stage, executing them in time with Snow's speech. Madge swallowed her gasp and turned into him, blowing her view from the stage. With a sinking feeling he realized that people must be being executed in every district in time with the the speech. But along with that he realized that maybe there were more people fighting the rebellion than he thought.

Madge seemed nervous again a few nights later. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away the u between her eyebrows but she'd been distant lately, ever since they found out Katniss was alive, and he didn't want to force her.

"I got in contact with Haymitch," she finally said. "Me as Madge Undersee, not Scotts sister."

Gale didn't like that. "Madge…" If someone had been listening then they would know a girl from District 12 was here, and that could cause troubles.

"It was a secure line," she insisted. "I wouldn't have tried unless I was absolutely sure." Gale still didn't like it. How would she know anything about the radio systems? "I told him that we're here," she said. "Haymitch knows we're here. They've… been looking for you, Gale."

His eyebrows collided. "What?"

"Well your family knew you were alive after the bombing, obviously, and when we ran you went missing. So they knew you were alive somewhere, and they say that Katniss needs you."

Gale let out a short breath. They'd been looking for him? Of course no one anticipated he'd be in District 6. He wondered if anyone was looking for Madge, or just him because of their favorite Mockingjay.

"So he knows we're here," Gale said.

"They're arranging transport," she said. "To get you out."

A week later they said their thanks and a long goodbye to Scotts and made the long trek through District 6 to get to the mayor's house. Mayor Burnstein would be helping to get them on a hovercraft that would take them to District 13. He was relieved to see that they were both still alive, murmuring something to Madge about how strong Leon had been so he should've expected the same from her.

But when the transport finally came to be, they only asked for Gale.

It was a man who identified himself as Boggs and a woman named Cressida. "We only have orders for Hawthorne," he said. "No one else."

Gale looked over his shoulder at Madge who looked terrified. Her face had gone pale and instantly her hands were shaking. She looked back and forth between Gale and Boggs before taking a step back, dipping her head to usher him forward.

"She comes with me," Gale said, "or I'm not going."

"Gale don't be ridiculous," Madge said quickly. Neither of them knew if there was going to be a fight over this and she clearly didn't want to risk him losing his spot. "Katniss needs you. Don't make this difficult."

"I'm not being ridiculous and I'm not making this difficult," he snapped. Gale looked back at Boggs. "Madge comes with me, or I'm not going." She'd saved his life. She'd protected him. She'd been there for him in the dark nights. Madge was more important to him that he'd ever imagined she could be and he wasn't going to leave her in this war zone.

The woman Cressida grinned. "Then welcome aboard, Princess," she cheered to Madge.

They gave hasty goodbyes to Mayor Burnstein before getting on the hovercraft, and almost instantly they were shooting into the air.

Gale was whisked away at once to talk about what had been happening, how he would fit into the plan of District 13, how he would help Katniss. But once he was free he found Madge sitting alone, staring out the window. He sat beside her, easily reaching out to grab her hand.

"You should've just gotten on," she said. "I could've gone back to Scotts and–"

"And now who's being ridiculous?" he muttered. Gale laced their fingers together. "You belong with your people, Madge." She looked small. "I couldn't do this without you," he added after a beat of silence. "I couldn't go to 13 knowing you wouldn't be safe. I couldn't–I just–" he shook his head. "It wasn't an option."

She was quiet for another few minutes. The pilot announced landing. "Where does that leave us?" Madge asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. Of course he loved Katniss. But how could three months with someone compare to years with another? Madge was phenomenal. She was strong and caring and more intense than he'd ever imagined. But things with Katniss… they weren't over. "Somewhere safer. To figure it out."

She pulled her hand from his. "I'm all in," she said softly. "Let me know when you make up your mind."

"Madge it's not–"

She stopped him, holding up her hand to prevent him from speaking more. It was clear she didn't want to hear his excuses.

Madge was taken to a singles dormitory and Gale was brought straight to his family.

There were more tears than he was prepared for, hugs from all of them, and lots of relief and questions. He told them his story about how he and Madge had been too afraid to risk it, how they vanished into the woods, how they survived in District 6. After an hour of reunion he was taken from his family, off to Katniss, who also cried more than he'd anticipated. She held him, shaking, and made him swear to never leave her side.

He'd expected it to feel familiar, pulling her into his arms. But instead it felt foreign.

Over the past few months they'd been through so many different things, fought their own battles, become different people. He'd struggled to survive, she grew and rose up as a leader, a figurehead.

He told her the story of where he'd been, not even attempting to cover up how vital Madge had been to his survival, to his sanity.

Katniss listened halfheartedly, mostly just relieved that Gale was back with her and that he was okay. But underground, away from sunlight, away from the fight, he felt less than useful.

When he saw Madge again he nearly sprinted to her side. The past few months they'd been tethered together and to have her gone for so long, to sleep alone, it made him miss her deeply. She lit up when she saw him and Gale felt his face break with a smile too, maybe the first time he'd smiled since he got underground.

"They've already got you busy," Madge murmured, and Gale nodded his head. "I told you that they needed you."

Gale reached for her hand. "They couldn't need me if I wasn't alive," he said back. "And I'm only alive because of you."

"Gale–"

Things weren't over. It wasn't that simple. He couldn't just pick Katniss or Madge, and that wasn't what was important now anyway. But he knew Madge made him feel grounded. He knew Madge was his anchor. So he bent down to kiss her gently, needing her to know that.

"We're still alive," he whispered when they parted. "Thanks to you." Her cheeks went pink. "Sit with me and my family," he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her into the cafeteria.

They still had a war to fight. And they still had decisions that needed to be made. And they still had a lot to think about, feelings and strategy and future steps. But for now, after all he'd been through, he wanted Madge by his side.

He led the way into the cafeteria, and she happily followed.