Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Monsters

Three, it was decided, was going to be the first of many that was to receive a library, a place where the generations to come would be able to learn about the mistakes of the past, learn, and, hopefully, mold their minds to create an even better world. Writing letters and asking for donations for the Committee to Restore Culture to the Districts, the group in charge of the library, turned out to be just the thing for Madge, to help her feel like she was contributing to the new country's future.

"You've done some wonderful work," one of the committee members, old Ms. Lampasas, a broad shouldered woman with dark eyes and pale hair from Nine had told her after Madge had helped put together a presentation that was to be brought to the funding board. "You should consider joining one of the local committees. You're father was a Mayor, yes? You clearly have an aptitude for it."

Madge had no desire to be in the government, volunteering to ask for donations to help the battered Districts regain some of their identities through restoration was one thing, being a full time committee member was another.

"I'm happy as I am now," Madge told her. She didn't want to follow in her father's footsteps, no matter how much good he'd tried to accomplish, it was a new world, and Madge wanted to forge her own path, and she was certain it didn't involve a full time job with the new Panem government. She wanted the chance not to have her past completely dictate her future, just like Gale was attempting to do.

"Madge Undersee?"

An ashen skinned man with dark rimmed glasses, a little jumpy, looked expectantly at her as she finished gathering up her purse and coat.

He was familiar, she had the feeling she should know him somehow.

His hand jutted out, "I'm Beetee Latier."

Uncertainly, Madge took his hand.

Beetee?

Madge frowned. She knew that name.

Beetee, the former Victor, the man that had encouraged Gale's anger, had helped conceive the design for the bomb that was ultimately used against the Capitol, resulted in so much devastation. The bomb that had killed Prim. The bomb Gale still woke up at night in a cold sweat over.

Interestingly, he was more frayed than she remembered him being from during the last Game. Clearly the post-Capitol life was wearing on him. Gale hadn't spoken to the man since the end of the Rebellion, but had mentioned he knew he'd been given a position in the new government's Research and Development Department, creatinggoodthings, safe things, things that would make life better for the people in the new country they were creating. It didn't matter to Madge though, he had helped damage Gale, and for that she didn't think any amount of new gadgets, however amazing and helpful, would ever clear his name in her mind.

Not that it mattered.

Madge offered him a perfunctory smile, eyeing him warily. He's fidgety, anxious, like he isn't use to talking to people, maybe he isn't, she doesn't know what 'Research and Development' really does.

"How may I help you, Mr. Latier?"

His brow creased a little as his hand dropped back to his side.

"I, uh, I've been following the committee," he takes his glasses off and begins cleaning them. "What you're doing, building the library, it's a good thing, a very good thing." He puts his glasses back on, gives her a faint smile, "I wanted, if it's possible, to maybe help."

She presses her lips into a thin line. Really, she didn't want his help.

Though Gale insisted he'd been the main force behind the idea, the bomb, he would never blame anyone but himself for all the pain and suffering it had caused, Madge still viewed the former Victor as culpable. He'd encouraged a nineteen year old, a man who'd been forced to grow up far too fast and under terrible circumstances, to dig into the darkest part of his mind and devise something so awful, so against what she knew to be his better nature, that it still haunted him, and probably would for the rest of his life.

Beetee, Madge felt, deserved every ounce of blame she could heap upon him.

She didn't want his bloodied hands near the library.

As he stood there, looking frazzled and uncertain, though, she saw a glimmer of humanity in him. She scolded herself, he'd been no more than eighteen himself when he'd been sent to his certain death by the very people he'd made that bomb to be used against.

She forces herself to nod. He isn't a monster anymore than Gale is, he's a victim too, she keeps telling herself.

"Oh, yes, of course." She tucks a stray hair behind her ear and looks around. "Ms. Lampasas would be the one to talk to-"

He shakes his head, "No-I-can't I deal with you?"

"Why?" It sounds rude, even though she doesn't mean it that way. She doesn't understand why he would want to deal with a volunteer over a committee member.

Beetee's eyes flickering down. "You're friends with Gale Hawthorne, aren't you?"

Ah. That's why he knew her name. Maybe he thinks it'll be easier to communicate with someone he has even the most tangential of connections with.

Madge nods, feeling her cheeks flush, she and Gale are a bit more than friends.

Swallowing thickly, he thinks through his words.

"I don't know if he's mentioned me-"

"He has."

She says it too quick, too sharply, lets the disdain she feels for him and what he'd helped do to Gale, scratch out in her tone, in the sudden coolness of it, and he flinches, takes a step back.

"Oh," he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. "I see."

He's a victim too, she reminds herself again.

"Mr. Latier, I think you'd be better off talking to Ms. Lampasas-"

"Please," his eyes widen. "I-I know you probably don't think very well of me. Honestly, I don't think very well of myself most days." He takes a deep breath, "I-I've made a lot of mistakes, I know that, but I'm trying to make up for them. I was hoping, being a friend of Gale's, you might understand a little better."

Madge sighs and repeats to herself, he's a victim, not a monster.

#########################################

She takes him to a little café, they get coffee, he fidgets the entire time.

"Thank you, for talking with me." He tells her after a few silent minutes of coffee sipping. "People always ask so many questions of us. They expect us to be…I don't know, different than we are. They don't understand what we've been through."

There are so few of them, a dying breed, former Victors. Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are in Twelve, mostly forgotten, the discarded waste of the Rebellion. It turns Madge's stomach that the people that had used them up forgot them so quickly.

The other remaining Victors were recluses, with the exception of Enobaria. It was easy to imagine people expecting certain things of them they simply couldn't deliver, just as they always had.

Madge takes a sip of her coffee, "No one can."

She can't. She really doesn't see why he thinks she could.

"Gale can." Beetee tells her, "He understood what was going on, what needed to be done. What we were up agai-"

"No he didn't." She cuts him off, her eyes darkening.

He's a victim, not a monster. She tells herself, but she doesn't care.

Gale wasn't like the Victors. He hadn't been forced to kill in an arena for entertainment, he'd been goaded into it by people who should've known better, people in charge that should've known that revenge over justice was a path that left too many broken people in its wake.

Madge gets up, grabs her coat and purse, she won't stay there and let this man tell her that Gale was like him. He wasn't. Gale knew what he'd done was wrong, that those designs, all their plans, were twisted and cruel. Beetee clearly didn't.

He catches her by the wrist, his eyes wide and pleading. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean-not that-"

She jerks away and heads off with him trailing after her.

"Miss Undersee, please," he begs. "What I meant is that-"

Madge take off running, she's in better shape than he is, he won't catch up. He certainly tries though.

She's outpaced him by nearly a block when she hears a yelp. Turning, she sees he's fallen, tripped over his overcoat. Against her better judgment, she jogs back.

"Are you alright?" She carefully gets down and checks on him, he's out of breath, huffing and puffing as much as Mr. Abernathy did back when he, Katniss, and Peeta were training before the Quarter Quell.

He winces as she offers him her arm, pulling him up.

"Thank you," he manages to sputter.

Nodding her acknowledgment, Madge turns to leave once he catches his breath, he's fine, she can leave him with a clear conscience now.

"Miss Undersee, please," he catches her wrist. "I only meant Gale can appreciate our mindset. We did horrible things, things we thought were the only option at the time. I won't even try to defend our design for that bomb, the one that killed Katniss' sister." He lets go of her wrist. "We were lost our humanity, and we'll spend the rest of our lives trying to get it back."

Talking is obviously not his area of expertise, but Madge thinks he's pinned words on his thoughts beautifully.

"Working in Research and Development I build things, but not always things that will be accessible to everyone. I want to help with the library. It's something constructive, something that will benefit everyone, not just this group or that group." He takes his glasses off again, they're a little crooked from his tumble. "Does that make any sense?"

It does. It sounds so painfully like Gale, trying to make up for all his past failings, that she can see why the two had gotten on so well. Even if they'd been horrible influences on one another.

Madge takes a breath. Beetee is a victim, not a monster.

"They've discussed putting the card catalogs on computers. Before the Dark Days that's how they'd been. It'll make more room for the books." She gives him a small smile, "They've about scrapped it because we don't know if we'll get the funding to make it, and quite honestly, no one would even know howto make it."

Beetee's face lights up, "I can do it! Funding won't be a problem, Miss Undersee."

He shakes her hand, delight etched across his face, in his crooked smile.

"Thank you," he says again.

They walk back to the café, they'd left without paying and Madge has to meet Rory to get a ride back to his family's house where she's staying until her flight leaves back to Ten in the morning.

Beetee finishes telling her about his preliminary plans for the catalog, his mind is whirling in excitement. Madge is going to pass it on to Ms. Lampasas, a task she dreads, he's already confused her but she smiles anyway. She feels like she's made his day. Ms. Lampasas will just have to accept Madge's poor interpretation of his design.

He pauses, gives her a weary glance, as though he isn't certain what he's going to say is a good idea. There's an underlying need, though, and he takes a breath.

"How-how is Gale?"

His glasses are still a little askew, making him look a bit like a small child asking about a favorite playmate. Madge wonders how long he's been waiting to ask.

She feels her lips sneak up, takes her lower one between her teeth as she ponders Gale, "He's doing well. Doing good."

Beetee's mouth turns up, "Oh?" He pushes his glasses up his nose, squints at her, as if seeing her for the first time. He smiles, "Oh, I see."

Her heart speeds up.

"I'll make sure to send the preliminary work up on the catalog to you, and thank you, again, Miss Undersee. I won't disappoint you."

#######################################################

Madge pressed herself further into Gale's chest as they swayed on the dance floor of the reception area at the library. It was chilly out, and she was attempting to leach every ounce of heat from his body she could. He took this as a sign he was free to let his hands roam free across her back, impractically bare in the dress.

She really didn't need to let Gale have input on her dresses anymore.

"I'm really proud of you," Gale whispered against her neck, his lips brushing against her skin. A chill shot up her spine and down her arms, out her fingertips at the contact. He chuckled. "If you're that cold we should go back to the room. I can warm you up better there."

I'm sure you could.

She shot him an annoyed look up through her lashes that only made him laugh more.

The palm of his hand, warm and rough, pressed into the lowest part of her back. His fingertips had started tracing lazy patterns across her skin when someone cleared their throat.

"Gale?"

Gale pulled back from her, his face deeply etched with irritation as he turned to see who had interrupted his dance.

His expression switched to confusion when his eyes fell on Beetee.

The man put his hand out, "Good to see you again, Gale."

For a moment Gale just stares. Madge had told him about Beetee's involvement in the library, but neither one of them expected him to show up to the opening. Finally, he takes Beetee's hand.

"Yeah, good to see you."

Whether it really was, Madge didn't know. Gale had only said the man would do a 'good job' after she'd mentioned him.

"You, uh, you met Madge," Gale gestured to her, his hand finding its way around her back and to hip.

Beetee nods to her, a little nervous, "Of course, nice to see you again, Miss Undersee."

Madge gives him her brightest smile, "Nice to see you too, Mr. Latier."

Gale's thumb rubs nervously at Madge's hip. She watches his throat bob as he swallows thickly.

"I've heard about the hover ports," Beetee begins nervously. "It's great, really great."

A tiny smile flickers across Gale's face. "Thanks." He waves his hand, up at the library, "This is pretty great too."

Beetee glances at Madge, "I didn't do much. I'm just glad your lovely friend let me be a part of it."

Gale laughs, deep and rich, rumbling as he pulls Madge a little closer, "She's a good judge of character."

Madge rolls her eyes at him.

The thumb rubbing at her hip slows, she can see him relaxing. His smile widens, more genuine, "Do you want to sit at our table? Catch up?"

Madge almost protests, her wariness of the man flaring up, then he smiles. She sees the humanity he's fighting to regain.

He's like Gale, he's a victim, not a monster. He deserves a chance for his past not to control his future, and Madge won't be the one to deny him that.