Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Fathers
AN: Happy Father's Day! Even though my dad won't see this, he's still the best and I hope he has a great day.
#######
It's Sunday, Gale's favorite day of the week. The only day he gets to spend entirely with his dad.
Mesmerized, he watches his dad finish off the snare, memorizing each step.
"Maybe next week you can try to set one or two," he tells Gale.
Before his dad can think enough on what he's said, possibly take it back, Gale nods eagerly. "Yeah!"
His dad smiles, his eyes twinkling down at Gale, and he pats him on the head. "Bit eager aren't you?"
"I'm big enough to help now," Gale tells him, setting his jaw firmly. "I-I can set one today."
"But you don't have to," his dad tells him, giving him a gentle prod back toward the District, it's getting late. "We're finished for the day."
Gale crosses his arms, shoots his dad a soured look. "I could've if you'd've let me."
A wide smile stretches across his dad's scruffy face and he chuckles, ruffles Gale's hair. "Planning on setting out on your own sometime soon?"
"No," Gale says, jumping over a downed log and nearly losing his balance. "But I gotta know how to catch things for when I'm grown up. Like you."
With a nod, his dad picks Gale up, deciding to carry him the rest of the way. Or at least until they reached the fence.
"When you're grown up like me, huh?" His dad says. "With a wife and kids?"
Gale nods, "Uh-huh."
"How many kids?" He asks, looking genuinely curious.
That isn't something Gale has thought about too much. He scrunches his nose up and frowns at the ground, trying to determine how many children he's going to have at some point in the far distant future. For several seconds he thinks it over, holds up his hands and ticks off possibilities.
"I think, two," he finally decides.
"Two," his dad repeats.
"Yeah," Gale nods. "Two. A boy and a girl."
A rumble shakes in his dad's chest. "And what if you don't get one of each on the first tries?"
"Then I guess we'll keep trying 'til we get both," Gale tells him, more than a little annoyed. Isn't that what he and Gale's mother were doing? It doesn't seem so bad to Gale. Just stick the baby in the girl's stomach for it to grow for a while and then get it out. Though how exactly they get it out is still a mystery to Gale. Both the growing and the getting out of the baby had made his mother very tired, he knows that much, but Rory is a bit of a pain. Maybe not all babies are so bad.
"You'd better find a girl that agrees to that," his dad warns. "And for the record, your mother and I aren't just 'trying 'til we get both'. We've always wanted a big family."
While Gale doesn't doubt that his parents had both wanted a big family, he also knows that his dad wants a little girl.
His dad smirks at him, gives Gale a little jiggle, making him laugh.
"So, any girl you've got your eye on?"
Gale rolls his eyes in exasperation. "No, dad."
"Not even that pretty little blonde from the sweet shop?"
That's the stupidest thing Gale's ever heard. Why would he like the stupid girl from the stupid sweet shop? She's from town and she always has white powder on her and he's pretty sure she can't talk. What kind of girl can't talk?
He groans. "No, dad."
His dad chuckles and shakes his head. "You sure? She's got a crush on you, you know? Always giving you a candy when we go by."
Her grandpa gives Gale a candy when he sees him pass by the back of the shop, not the little girl. Gale doesn't even remember her name. Marge or something like that. Not very pretty.
"I'm sure," Gale says.
They stop and his dad puts him down, presses his finger to his lips to warn Gale to be quiet from here on out. For a few minutes he scans the horizon, checking for Peacekeepers, and when he finds none, takes Gale by the hand and rushes with him to the fence.
Once they're safely on the inside of the District, Gale's father takes his hand and they make their way toward Town then they'll be on their way home. Hopefully to a pot of the last of the rabbit from the week before.
One thing is for certain, Gale knows whoever he marries, she'll have to be as good in the kitchen as his mother.
#######
Madge scrunches her nose up as she sits on the floor behind her Poppa's candy display, coloring a picture for her mother, safe from the eyes of the public.
Her father is at the little table in the back, through the pair of swinging doors, talking to Mr. Abernathy about something, she doesn't know what and she doesn't care. It sounds boring. The only reason she's even paid it any attention is because her father promised her he'd take her with him to the Justice Hall later to show her the tiny player piano that had just been placed in the downstairs entry.
"It starts up like magic," he'd told her.
Really, she didn't need to even see the piano, just getting to go with him, spend time with him away from the house and the cranky old housekeeper, is enough for Madge.
She's just about to finish off the big yellow sun in the corner when her Poppa squats down in front of her, holds out a newly hardened chocolate covered strawberry to her. With a grin, she snatches it away and begins eating it, smearing brown and pink from her nose to her chin and across her mouth.
Just as her Poppa has finished chuckling at her, and started to pull a rag from his back pocket to clean her face, the bell over the door to the shop jingles, announcing a customer.
He stands and greets them, leaving Madge as a sticky mess on the floor.
For a minute she stares at the hand with the half eaten strawberry in it, then down at her picture. She sighs.
Carefully, she picks up her paper with her clean hand, struggles to her feet and runs as fast as her short feet will carry her, back through the doors to where her father is.
"Daddy, I'm sticky," she tells him, holding the berry out to him.
His eyebrow arch up as he surveys her mess before he smiles. "Let me get a towel."
Brushing past her, to the tub sink, he snatches up a worn looking rag and begins wetting it.
Something tugs the berry from her hand, and when Madge turns she finds a grinning Mr. Abernathy plucking it from her fingers. He gives her a wink, then pops the last of the messy berry into his mouth, leaving only the stem, which he tosses onto the table.
As she's trying to work out if he's being rude to her or being funny, her father comes up behind her and begins rubbing her face with the damp rag.
"Ow!"
"Hold still, Pearl," her father tells her as he scrubs the last of the chocolate from her cheek. "There."
While Madge is making faces, her father scoops her up and settles himself back into his chair with her in his lap.
"I think that's enough for the day, Haymitch," her father sighs, tapping his hand against his cup of now cold coffee.
Mr. Abernathy nods, puts his flask to his lips and takes a long drink. When he lowers it, his slightly bloodshot eyes settle on Madge, then down to her drawing.
"What've you got there, sweetheart?"
Chewing her lip, Madge shrugs, holds the picture out to him.
It's not very good. She was supposed to have been practicing writing her name, like her father had shown her, but she'd gotten bored. Half the page is covered in half formed versions of 'Madge' and the other half has several sloppy looking yellow tulips and a happy looking sun in the corner.
"Made it for my mom," she tells him. Her mother loved tulips and the sun, but her headaches had kept her from both the past few weeks.
Her father smiles at her, gives her a little squeeze, and sighs.
"Madge has been playing nurse with Matilda," he tells Mr. Abernathy. "She's going to be a good little mother someday."
Mr. Abernathy scowls, shakes his head.
"No." His elbow comes to a rest on the table and he jabs his finger at Madge. "You get yourself set on your own before you start getting all moon-eyed over some stupid guy. Boys are nothing but trouble, understand?"
A warm laugh bursts out of Madge's father's chest, rumbles against her back. "Haymitch, I'm joking. She's still just a baby."
Madge wrinkles her nose up at him. She is not a baby. She doesn't even wet the bed anymore.
Just as she's about to tell her father that, set him straight about what a baby is and is not, the little swinging door flop open and her Poppa comes through, dusting his hands off.
"Oh." He stops, stares at the table. A smile lights up his face. "I was coming to find Madge to clean her up, but I see she already got help with that."
He must notice her soured expression, because he shoots her father and Mr. Abernathy a playfully scolding look.
"What have the two of you done to upset my little Madge?"
Before she can tell him, even get her mouth open to spit the words out, her father starts laughing.
"Haymitch thinks I'm trying to marry her off before she's even in school," he tells Poppa.
That isn't what has her so annoyed, but at least he didn't call her a baby again.
Her Poppa's bushy white eyebrow rise and his eyes twinkle. "Did she tell you about the boy that she gives chocolate to?"
Madge makes a strangled noise at that. It's a lie. "You gibe him chocolate, Poppa!"
His smile widens at her protest and his eyes twinkle. "You watch for him, love."
She does not. She just knows when he passes by.
"My little Pearl already have a beau and didn't tell me?" Her father shakes his head, makes a teasing 'tsk' noise.
"No!" She tells him firmly, crossing her arms and scowling at the table.
Mr. Abernathy gets up, stands and stretches his back, making a loud popping noise as he does. He turns and gives Madge's little tantrum an approving nod.
"Keep that attitude kid. Boys are smelly and dirty and not good for much but causing trouble, trust me. You're too smart for that nonsense."
Why he thinks she's too smart for anything, Madge doesn't know, but she nods quietly at him anyway. Mr. Abernathy gives her father a nod goodbye, tells her Poppa 'see you next week', then vanishes through the front.
Madge's father stands, hoists her up at his side and they tell her Poppa goodbye for the day before leaving through the back and heading toward the Hall.
"Are all boys smelly and dirty and twouble?" She asks him as the Hall comes into view.
Mr. Abernathy certainly seems to be, and he's a boy.
Her father chuckles. "I'm a boy. Am I any of those things?"
She frowns. No, her father is always clean, smells like aftershave, but she supposes he does cause her quiet a lot of trouble, especially on the nights she tries to stay up to see him before bed. She shakes her head, twapping the sides of her face with her ponytail.
"Don't worry about all that, Pearl. Unfortunately, when you get older it won't matter how much trouble a boy is, how dirty or smelly he is, you're still going to like him," he tells her, kissing the tip of her nose.
Her eyes roll. No matter what he says, she's certain it will matter.
#######
Madge pinches her nose closed.
Gale and the kids have just gotten back from fishing. He's filthy, she's pretty sure he found a muddy hole to wallow in before coming home, despite his firm declaration that he most certainly had not. She's also pretty sure he's still got something dead hidden away in his pockets.
"Daddy, can I cut the fishy?" Savanna asks, holding a dead eyed, floppy fish high above her head for Gale to see.
"I think I should handle that for now. You're still a bit young, Vanna," Gale tells her, taking it from her and swiftly making his cuts before pulling the head and guts off and out in one motion.
Savanna and Glen look awestruck and Madge tries not to gag.
These are not my children.
Gale motions for Glen to try it on his little fish. He's older and Gale's been letting him practice for the past year or so.
Just like Gale, Glen makes his little cuts and out come the fish's insides, much to his and Savanna's joy.
"Alright," Madge tells them, before they get too carried away. "I think dad can handle it from here. Why don't you two go take your baths before I have to leave the house."
They groan, painfully upset over not getting to watch Gale disembowel the rest of their catch, but stomp off with their filth trailing in their wake.
Gale carries on, quickly finishing off his work while Madge tries to look anywhere but at it.
"You need to go take a shower too," she tells him as he begins washing his hands, sure to be the only clean part of him, in preparation of getting the meal started.
"I would, but since you can't cook, I have to make sure we don't starve before I go hose off," he teases her back.
She rolls her eyes and huffs. "I can cook just fine."
The market had some lovely packaged meals. All Madge had to do was dump them in a bowl and cook them for the correct amount of time. They're wonderful.
"Mmmhmm," is Gale's only response.
Choosing to ignore his slight on her culinary skills, Madge takes the seat across from him and watches him prepare the fish for cooking.
"I'm glad you and the kids had fun," she tells him. She's also glad she didn't have to go with them. They'd apparently fought their way through a swamp. "You're a good dad, Gale."
She know he didn't think he would be, after all that had happened, but seeing him with Glen and Savanna makes her more sure than ever that Gale was always meant to be a father.
Gale smiles down at the counter. "I like spending time with them. Reminds me of the times I used to spend with my dad in the woods. It's my second favorite thing to do."
That causes Madge's lazy grin to drop. He'd better have one hell of a good 'first thing to do', or she's going to get over her squeamishness and stuff one of those fish heads down his throat.
"And what exactly is first on that list?" She asks, setting him in a narrow look.
He leans across the counter, catches her lips in a quick little kiss. "If you come help me with my hard to reach places in the shower I'll show you."
Should've seen that coming.
Madge feels her face start to blaze, even though there's no reason for it. She begins rubbing at a smudge of dirt he's left on her cheek, laughing.
"Who is going to watch the kids if I'm helping you?"
Gale uses the knife to jab in the direction Glen and Savanna had disappeared to.
"Glen is old enough to keep an eye on Vanna," he tells her. "My brothers and me watched each other when we were younger than him, and let's face it, he's a lot more sensible than any of us were."
"Right," Madge snorts. She shakes her head. "It will still have to be a short bath. I'm not leaving them alone for one of your two hour sauna sessions."
He scowls. "You know, you used to be upset if I didn't take long enough in the shower."
Well, he's certainly making up for that now, she thinks.
"I only take that long when I have help," he says, making the most pathetic face he can manage.
"That seems counterintuitive," she points out.
After an hour Gale's already finished the meal, in record time for him, and Madge wonders if she shouldn't go find the kids.
Then they come, racing from the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms, still moist feet pounding on the wood.
"I won!" Savanna yells as she tries to sidestep Madge and grab Gale.
"Not if you grab him you haven't," Madge tells her. "Unless 'winning' means getting another bath."
"Why don't the two of you go untangle the gear and put it away, just like I showed you. Then pick some tomatoes from the garden. We'll come and get you when dinner is ready."
Glen and Savanna are almost out the door before Gale can add his final bit of direction.
"Glen, keep an eye on your sister."
With an important nod, Glen grabs Savanna's hand and they bolt out the door. Madge frowns a the slamming screen door.
"Gale, dinner is re-"
Before she can finish her thought, he's got her by the hand, dragging her up the stairs.
"I just bought us an hour," he tells her with a grin. "I tangled those fishing lines beautifully."
Madge's mouth drops. "You are trouble, Gale Hawthorne. That's pretty underhanded, doing that to your own children."
"It's character building," he says, stopping to pick her up. She's clearly not getting to the shower quickly enough for him. "That's what my mother always told me and Rory when she had us fold underwear when we were little so she and dad could have some time together."
"I wasn't warned about this deviousness," she laughs as he kicks open the bathroom door and set her down.
"You've known Rory and Vick for how long? You should've clued in, Madge." He starts peeling mud caked layers off. "Besides, I'll help them with it later. More time with them. First, though, I think I need a shower."
Madge nods. He's a very good father, but he really is filthy.