9. The Games
Gale knows he has no time to waste staring at the mayor's door in utter disbelief, so he forces his feet to move towards the Seam. Despite being fairly popular at school, he usually doesn't talk to people outside of his close friends and family, and none of them makes him feel at a loss for words at the rate Madge had done in the previous week. With every conversation, he feels more unsure about what to make of her. An enemy or an ally? Just a Capitol pawn? And the way she talked about the Games and its inner workings, already calculating what the interviews would been for the sponsors…
He frowns when he remembers the interviews. He can't avoid the anger at the words of Mellark, the jealousy when the image of them holding hands come to his mind. What right did he have to say those things about her? A pinch of guilt interrupts his thoughts. Katniss was further from home than ever, in what could very well be her last night, and here he was, drowning in his own feelings. But what else could he do? Nothing but watch as she fights for her life and try to keep her family fed. The Capitol had made sure of that.
When he reaches home, his mother already has their dinner, a simple soup of varied plants and tesserae flour. Even though he had been going to the woods several hours every day, there was only so much he could catch.
"Are you okay?" Hazelle asks once dinner is over and the kids are in bed.
"I'm fine," Gale replies dryly. He drops himself in the sofa, the same size than the one at the Everdeens home, but much more worn-out. The weight of the Games crushes every inch of his body.
"Katniss is a strong girl. You have to trust her abilities."
"Don't you think I know that?", he snaps, instantly regretting it.
Hazelle sighs, leaving the clothes she was ironing on the table to stand in front of him. Even though he's a grown-up man now, soon to officially start his life at the mines, Gale feels like a child about to be scolded.
"Well, I know this has been hard, but you don't have to take it out on me." She makes a small pause, unsure if she should continue. "Or the mayor's daughter for that matter."
"What do you mean?", he replies, confused. How was this about Madge? "I just walked her home."
"Because I pretty much forced you to. I noticed how you looked at her all night, as if the sole purpose of her presence was to insult you."
"I did not!" He is aware he sounds like Rory when he is caught red-handed, but Hazelle does not continue scolding him as she would have done with Rory.
"Gale," she says, sitting by his side. "It's not her fault." She doesn't specify what exactly she is referring to, but is not necessary. Katniss and the Games, the money, none of it is really her fault. Hazelle doesn't usually reprimands him, so he must have acted like a huge idiot.
"I know."
"And I'm always here if you need to talk." He feels a knot in his throat and tears pool in his eyes. Hazelle takes one of his hands, and for a moment he wants to cry in her arms like a small kid. But he is not a kid anymore, so he blinks away the tears.
"I know." Hazelle nods, with a sad expression of her own.
"You have to go back to school tomorrow."
"I kno-, wait, what?"
"I understand you have been spending more time in the forest because you want to look after both us and the Everdeens, but let's not tempt luck. Peacekeepers know you haven't started on the mines yet, so you are not technically allowed to miss school."
"It's pointless, Ma," he argues, anger boiling again inside him. There is absolutely nothing useful the school can teach him. It was, on Gale's eyes, a waste of the precious time he had to hunt.
"It's just a few more weeks." For second time in the night, she doesn't admit a protest. She squeezes his hands before standing up and goes into the room she shares with Posy.
Staring at the black screen of their Capitol provided TV, Gale wonders if he is already condemned to watch his best friend die in that frame. He thinks of the interview once again, the one Katniss gave. In those last seconds when the girl he fell in love with in the woods came to surface. His mother was right, he had to trust in her. That she would make it out and come back. Then, things could go back to normal and their only worry would be to keep the rest of their siblings out of the Games. He drifts to a restless sleep, filled with images of past Games, but with Katniss both as the killer and the victims.
At the other side of the District, Madge leaves the bathroom after taking a bath. In front of her full body mirror, she inspects the pink new skin that marks where she cut the day of the reaping. This will be her last scar. It doesn't matter what happens tomorrow or any of the following days, she will remain strong, for Katniss and for herself. She takes in the rest of her body. The training and her new diet (which was basically stop skipping meals) have started to make slight changes. Her face is fuller now and her eyes do not appear empty. Getting dressed, her thoughts drift to Katniss and Peeta. The same anger and determination that she experimented after the reaping and on the opening day flow in waves through her. Volunteering next year wasn't enough. She needed a way to fight until then, and after, if she was even planning on winning.
Taking advantage of the anxiety-induced insomnia and the fact her father went to sleep early, she sneaks in his study. She is not allowed in the room when he is working, much less when he's not there. Running her fingers through some of the papers on his desk, she realizes that there must be vigilance devices inside. She then moves behind the desk to look out of the window, trying to figure out a way to snoop around without looking suspicious to someone watching. Nothing comes to mind, so she comes back to her room, feeling more frustrated and useless than before. She falls sleep trying to think of a way of finding some information, any information that could give her a clue on what to do.
"Attention students. The Games are about to start. Please, go to the cafeteria."
Gale clenches his hands in fists as soon as the announcement ends to try and stop them from shaking. It wasn't doing much. Every step towards the cafeteria resonates in his mind, every stare in the hallway piercing through his head. It's really happening. When he reaches the cafeteria, the room is almost full. He spots Prim and Rory, standing near the windows to the left of the screens alongside a blonde that was becoming very familiar. He strides towards them and nods as only way of greeting, focusing all his energy on not throwing up.
Does he want the minutes to go by faster just so this terrible wait can finally be over? Does he want them to be slower so Katniss never has to go through the Games? He can't know. The minutes do pass, the anthem, Flickerman presenting, and suddenly it's the moment for the platforms to emerge with the tributes.
The final minute before the real nightmare begins.
When Gale notices Katniss, a moment of relief reaches him. With her braid, her tribute clothes and her frown, he can recognise her again. He acknowledges he is being selfish, but this way he knows he hasn't lost her to the Capitol. Not yet, at least.
"She is wearing it, Madge. She is wearing your token," Prim says excitedly, bringing Gale out of his thoughts. Only then he notices the golden pin. Remembering the night of the reaping, he tears his eyes from the screen for a spare second, almost as a reflex, towards the mayor's daughter only to find her staring back. They both look to the screen once more and Gale could swear that his already unsettled stomach is taking a turn for the worse. Not that he could blame the mayor's daughter this time, seeing the last ten seconds disappear on the screen.
The bloodbath is not long and Katniss is alive and running by the time it ends. Gale is still feeling as sick as ever, because there is not a moment in that arena when Katniss is safe. He thinks he forgot how to breathe the moment he saw the knife flying towards her. The immediate danger has passed, however, and that makes it only slightly easier to breath.
"The mandatory viewing is over. Please, return to your classrooms."
Gale takes a deep breath. She's not in danger for now, he tries to reassure himself. They won't have to see more updates during school until the final eight. That doesn't wash the uneasiness away since the evening recaps are mandatory, and mainly, because the fact that he's not watching doesn't mean the Games are stopping. But she outlived the bloodbath.
"They are both okay!" says Madge, unable to keep herself. The cafeteria starts to empty, but no one in their small group makes an attempt to move towards the doors. Prim slowly takes in her words, finally tearing her eyes from the screen to give her a small smile.
"Careful Undersee, you sound too surprised." A glance in his direction is the only answer he gets.
"Ma' wants you to come over later for the recap, and your mom too," says Rory, Prim answering with a nod. "And Madge, of course."
For some reason, probably rooted on Rory's averted eyes, Madge was not sure Mrs. Hawthorne had ever included her name in the invitation. The last thing she wanted was to impose and become a burden yet again. There was also the classic scowl on Gale's face on the prospect. And the fact that, even if the recaps weren't as long as the interviews, they would still end after dark.
"Uhm, that's very kind of your mother indeed. Tell her I truly appreciate the offer, but I will watch at home. I shouldn't be out that late anyways."
"Gale can walk you again," says Rory.
"Gale probably has a thousand better things to do than- "
"Gale is right here. And last time he recalled, he was not a bodyguard." It seems that it is one of the rare occasions when they agree.
"It's an open invitation anyways, to come watch with us."
When Madge arrives to the old warehouse she almost has a heart attack when she spots a figure leaning on the furthest wall. During the fraction of second it takes her to recognise Darius, the adrenaline pumps through her body at such a speed that it blurs her vision for a second.
"A little jumpy today."
"Do you want to kill me?" she asks bitterly, bringing a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Had it been a week already since they last meet? Why does it feel like an eternity?
"And losing my only source of entertainment in this godforsaken place? No, thanks."
"So that's why you are helping me, entertainment."
"Among other reasons. It's good that you are alert now, by the way, you will need that in an actual fight."
"You will teach me how to fight today?" says Madge, unable to hide her excitement.
"We can start with some basic moves," Darius smirks, "but first the warm-up".
They start with the routine of exercises before going into anything that could resemble a fight. Then, Darius spend what Madge considers an excessive amount of time explaining how she should stand, which muscles carry the strength in a blow, and all the mechanics involved.
When Darius finally stands in front of her, the rush of adrenaline removes any trace of tiredness she could be feeling.
"Don't look so eager, Madge, you are not hitting me today."
"I'm not?" she replies, making no effort to hide her disappointment and earning a laugh from Darius.
She watches, still confused, as he retrieves two rubber squares from his bag and places them to cover the palm of his hands. Holding up his hands to her, Madge finally understands.
"You're hitting these."
It would do for Madge. She takes her stance, as he taught her, and hits with hesitation. Darius gives her a mocking smile but before he can say anything, she hits again. And again. Darius is no longer smiling, but her mind is far away now. The day of the reaping replays in her mind. And then the first day of the Games. And then the many other Games she has watched so far. She starts to realize there is no amount of hits that will make her feel less angry or sad, but she continues nevertheless, because at least they can make her feel more powerful.
After many rounds of hits, and multiple complaints of Darius about her misguided pent-up fury, they finally sit leaning against the wall.
"Can Peacekeepers choose the district where they go?" Madge's question clearly takes Darius by surprise. She had wondered about it before, but never had anyone to ask. Her father would not take it lightly.
"Some can," he finally says.
"Did you?" He turned to look at her, apparently evaluating if he was willing to answer. By his first answer, Madge realized she was edging to something important, which of course, only made her more curious.
"I did."
"Why this godforsaken place?" Madge didn't know why she was pressing the issue, but it just made her curious to know more about him. After all, he knew her top secret of the moment.
"That's a story for another time." The answer gives Madge a pang of disappointment, but Darius smile and soft eyes suggest he is not annoyed and that someday he might answer. They hardly talked about personal matters, but for Madge it already felt like they were friends. Maybe her what-it-takes-to-be-friends bar was too low. "We shouldn't come here too often. We can train for fights a few days a week and the rest of the days you can workout at home. I take it that your house is big enough?"
Madge rolls her eyes, but she nods. "Great," says Darius. "See you Friday?" Madge nods again, unable or unwilling to speak as to avoid embarrassing herself again.
Friday comes and Katniss is still alive. And so is Peeta.
Darius and Madge repeat the same routine until she feels there is no more fight in her.
Once she finally gathers the strength to go home, the already too familiar dread installs in her stomach, while her mind fills itself with thousands of what-ifs about Katniss and Peeta in the arena. Katniss is badly hurt from a fire, Peeta is still with the careers… and earlier in the week Hawthorne confronted her as if it was her fault.
"Why is he with the careers?!", he had said when he saw her in the hallway, no greeting, because of course Madge did not deserve the least courtesy.
"My guess is as good as yours."
"Really, Undersee? Because, as I recall it, you were certain he'd never harm her."
"I think he has a plan," she had replied, her unsure tone making him roll his eyes, which made Madge definitely furious. Who was he anyway to tell her off and judge Peeta like that? "Look," she started, getting angrier with each word, "Peeta hasn't provided any good information about Katniss to the careers! And the way Katniss smiled at the camera when the careers where nearby, as if everything was planned between them… Sure, it's not very Katniss-like, but it could happen! In any case, Hawthorne, anyone with two brain cells can see Peeta is looking out for her. It's all that Flickerman talks about. And even if he wasn't, how is that my fault? I didn't call their freaking names!" She had stomped past him after that, which, looking back, had been quite embarrassing. He had this way of getting under her skin…
A growing pain in her hands when she uses them to gain support and stand up is the only thing that brings her out of her thoughts. She takes a look and almost stops to a halt: her knuckles are an angry red, with the skin peeling on some bits. She can't go home like this. What if her father is there? This will hardly pass as a gardening accident. Inspecting the red areas closer, she realizes that they look like a milder version of the ones Gale had the night of the reaping, which gives her an idea. A terrible idea.
There is not much time, the training ended just in time for her to get home for the recap, so she would have to be fast. Probably, she would have to watch in the square as well. Without a second to spare, she changes into her usual Madge look instead of the wig and training clothes and goes to the same route she did a few days ago.
"Snow would be ideal, but some ice will do," Mrs. Everdeen says as she inspects her hands. "We do not have ice here, but Prim makes a very good ointment." She turns to inspect the collection of jars and bowls behind her and retrieves a small glass jar. With utmost tenderness, Mrs. Everdeen takes an infinitesimal amount and rubs it in the wounded knuckles.
"Thank you, Mrs. Everdeen." Since Madge is not carrying any coins, she doesn't mention the arrangement of a later payment, not wanting to risk Mrs. Everdeen rejecting it.
"We were about to leave for the Hawthorne's."
"I'll let you be on your way, then."
"You're not coming?"
"Oh no, Prim, that's okay. I'm still on time to reach the square."
"Alone? You shouldn't watch alone, Madge."
"I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing to worry about, Mrs. Everdeen."
The pointed look that Mrs. Everdeen gives Madge's hands suggest she thinks otherwise, making Madge wince. Of course, she would rather have some company but, at the same time, she was so tired of interacting with people… not that she did it often.
"Truthfully, I don't want to impose..:"
"Rory invited you, that's hardly imposing."
"Yes, and his brother made it very clear that I was not welcome."
"No, he just said he wouldn't walk you home."
"Come on Madge, I'll walk you home myself if it comes to it," Mrs. Everdeen concludes. Having lived her whole life with a mother that was out of it most of the time, the decisive tone both Mrs. Everdeen and Mrs. Hawthorne used when they had made a final decision was hard to rebate for Madge. No matter how nervous she was. It wasn't just Gale's presence; it was that she was not prepared to comfort Prim or Mrs. Everdeen if something terrible happened. However, as she walked past the door with them, she knew she didn't have it in her to leave now. I'm such a selfish person, I'm the one going to take comfort in them.