the next will never come (part 9/?, hunger games, r)
the next will never come
"It means I'm done. It means I'm free. It means I'll live."
katniss/peeta, katniss/gale, au, r. katniss makes it through her final reaping. part 9 of ?
I'm not surprised that we get a lot of odd looks and whispers as we make our way towards an open spot in the square. What does surprise me is how gracefully Prim handles the attention.
Some of the people we pass smile sadly, murmuring soft sounds of sympathy. One woman I recognize as a teacher from the school even rests her hand comfortingly on Prim's shoulder for a moment.
But there are others who cover their mouths and giggle when they see her, who lean over to whisper into a friend's ear as we pass. Somewhere among the crowd a boy says loudly: "You cheating on your girlfriend with your sister?"
I whip my head around in anger, ready for a confrontation, but Prim grips my hand tighter and rests her other hand on my arm. "It's fine," she says in a low voice. "He's an idiot. I don't care."
I look at my sister, ready to argue, but in the moment I'm struck by how grown-up she suddenly looks. She's standing tall, chin up, eyes clear and alert. "I'm proud of you," I say abruptly, and she smiles a little.
"Thanks."
"I think here is good," Mother pipes up from behind us, gesturing to the little clearing before us. She pulls a threadbare sheet from a woven basket she'd brought along, and Gale helps her spread it on the ground for us to sit on. As they're smoothing out the wrinkles, a small cluster of girls Prim's age step forward.
"Hi Prim," one of them says with a smile. Her black hair is cropped at chin-length, and her collarbones jut prominently from beneath the worn collar of her shirt. This is Jory Overwood, one of the Seam girls Prim hangs out with at school. Her family's bigger than ours - five kids and counting - and even poorer.
"Hi, Jory," Prim responds, hesitation in her voice.
"How are you? We haven't seen you in a while, with school out. We've missed you."
A beaming smile cracks along Prim's face, and I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. Jory's genuine, and the other girls nodding along seem genuine, too. The awkwardness dissipates and the girls start chattering away, catching Prim up on the news about their friends and classmates.
Gale's gaze meets mine across the sheet, our smiles mirroring one another's. Prim will be okay. He tilts his head to the left, raising his eyebrows in question, and I nod. We stroll away slowly, leaving Prim some time alone with her friends.
"Seems like tonight's a good night," Gale remarks.
I start to feel nervous. Maybe I should talk to him now, while we're more or less alone. But then I'll feel rushed, because the Games are about to start, and we'll have to sit through all three hours of the broadcast…it's better to wait. "Yeah," I say simply.
We don't make it too far until I catch sight of a familiar blond head in the corner of my eye. Peeta's here, with a small group of his friends from town. I try to slip past unnoticed, but he turns his head just in time to see me. "Katniss! Hey," he calls out, his face lighting up.
"Hi Peeta. Hey," I add, nodding to his friends. I recognize all of them, but they're Merchant kids. We don't have much to say to each other. They mumble back their hellos, but mostly continue with whatever conversation was going on before I stumbled upon them.
Gale stops right behind me, closer than necessary, and I shiver a little at the feeling of his fingertips skimming light as a feather over my lower back. Peeta doesn't seem to notice. "I haven't seen you here before," he says curiously. "Do you normally come watch in town?"
"No, we just…thought it was a nice night, tonight," I say lamely.
"Definitely." Peeta nods. "I don't come here too often, but sometimes it beats watching with my family."
"Goddammit," Gale interrupts loudly, staring off at something over Peeta's head. "Vick's talking to that girl again…Catnip, I'll be back." He squeezes my arm and charges off, weaving his way through clusters of people.
One of Peeta's friends - a boy with sandy brown hair named Asher, I think - steps forward and nudges him in the arm. "Hey Peet, we're gonna go sit down."
"Sure, I'll be there in a minute," he nods. Once they're gone, he smiles at me. "So your friends call you Catnip?"
"Just Gale," I say, though Gale pretty much encompasses the term "friends" for me. I can't even imagine how he'd react if he heard Peeta calling me by that old nickname. "Yours call you Peet?"
"Sometimes." He shrugs. "I like Peeta better. I feel more like a Peeta."
"I feel more like a Katniss," I admit, though I feel a slight twinge of guilt, as if I'm somehow betraying Gale by saying it.
"So I should rethink my plan to start calling you Kitty Kat?" Peeta laughs loudly at my sour expression. "Okay. Strictly Katniss, then."
Just then, the lights from the Justice Building flash in warning - tonight's broadcast of the Games is about to begin. The loud chatter around us starts to dim, the mood growing somber. Peeta sighs.
"The show must go on," he says sardonically. "D'you want to come sit with us? We're just over there." He gestures to his friends, who are seated on a few blankets a short distance away.
"No, I should go back and find Prim," I respond. "Thanks, though."
"Alright. Well." He pauses, then steps forward and gives me a brief, light hug. "Um. See you later."
I don't answer, frozen in place. Did Peeta just…hug me? I catch a glimpse of his face as he turns away - I think he's shocked by what he did, too. He hurries off towards his friends, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
A moment later I return to my senses, spinning around and walking quickly back to the spot where I left Prim and my mother. My heart is pounding, though I can't pinpoint why. I already knew Peeta liked me. I shouldn't be stunned when that means he wants to…touch me. Besides, it was more of a friendly hug, over so fast that it hardly counted.
It only takes me a minute to track down my family again. Prim's friends are gone and she's sitting on the ground between my mother and Rory, but Gale and Vick are nowhere to be seen. I hope fervently that Gale didn't see Peeta embrace me. If he did, he might not even be willing to listen to what I have to tell him tonight.
Rory sees me approach and scoots over so I can sit beside Prim. I settle onto the ground beside her, and she turns to look at me. "Who were you talking to?" she asks.
"No one," I say quickly. Thankfully, the massive screen over the stage lights up and the show starts before she can press any further.
Tonight starts off with some mentor interviews. There are a few appreciative whistles from the crowd when Finnick Odair, a former victor from District 4, shows up onscreen to talk up his tributes, both of whom are still in the arena. Since he was introduced to the country in the 65th Games at the age of 14, he's become known as the most beautiful man in Panem. With his tanned skin and lustrous hair and cheeky grin projected onto the big screen before us, it's certainly hard to imagine anyone who looks better.
The crowd goes quiet, however, when it's time for Haymitch Abernathy to speak. As our only living victor, and a raging alcoholic, Haymitch is something of a joke around District 12. Just a few years ago he actually fell off the stage at the Reaping, only to vomit on Effie Trinket's shoes when a Peacekeeper helped him back up. As a child of District 12, I'm sure there's no worse feeling than realizing you've been Reaped - but realizing that Haymitch Abernathy is the only person who's looking out for you? It's got to be a close second.
Haymitch looks exhausted and out of place on the fancy set where the mentors are giving their interviews. It must be five, six years since the last time a District 12 tribute made it far enough to warrant a top ten interview.
"Astrid? Yeah. She's…she's a fighter. Always fighting." He leans forward a little as the voice of the interviewer offscreen asks him to clarify: How is Astrid a fighter? There's a long stretch of silence, and Haymitch rubs a hand over his face wearily.
"Well, you know. She's out there, taking it day by day. That's our strategy. Day by day."
I can see my mother shaking her head sadly on the other side of Prim, who is staring up at the screen with a slight frown on her face. Despite his words, it's painfully clear that there is no real strategy for Astrid. They may not match the words he's speaking, but Haymitch's eyes say it all: he's just as defeated this year as he has been for the last twenty-odd years. Sometimes a tribute manages to cling to life a little longer than the others; it's no reason to get your hopes up.
"He's not even trying," Prim murmurs.
When Haymitch is done, the cameras cut to a splitscreen with all ten remaining tributes. My eyes focus immediately on the lower right-hand corner, where Astrid is quietly picking berries in a secluded part of the forest. But after just a few seconds, the full screen cuts to a view of the Careers. Again.
The Games always start to narrow their focus on the Careers around this time. Ostensibly it's because they're the group that's most likely to produce a winner, but I can't help but wonder if the tactic is self-fulfilling, encouraging sponsors to boost their support simply because they see them onscreen the most.
They're also the most likely to produce the best drama, though. They fight. They hunt the other kids. Once in a while a pair will sneak off and have sex; perfunctory, emotionless sex, like two squirrels mating in the woods. It's uncomfortable to watch, not titillating, but the cameras don't acknowledge how awkward and wrong it is, zooming in to the places where their bodies join, where dirty, sallow skin slips against skin.
Tonight we're treated to an argument brewing between the tributes from District 2. According to the commentary from Claudius Templesmith, it's some kind of ongoing conflict between them, but I tend to zone out when the Careers are onscreen, so I can't really follow the conversation. The tributes from the Career districts are always so interchangeable - athletic, well-fed 17- and 18-year-olds with shiny hair and cruel smiles.
My gaze drifts away from the screen, over to the right, and I can just barely make out Peeta sitting cross-legged on a picnic blanket with his friends. The others sit with their chins tilted up, watching the screen, but Peeta's looking down at his hands. It reminds me of when we watched the bloodbath together, how he'd focused on his hands then, too.
After awhile I start to feel tired, and move away from the others to lay down, resting my head on my arm. Gale reappears with Vick, both of them looking annoyed. "Hey," Gale greets me softly, sitting down just behind me on our sheet.
"Hey. Everything okay?"
Gale sighs. "It's fine." His knuckles run lightly over my hair. "Vick's just being stupid."
"Mmm."
"You tired?" I nod heavily. "You should go to sleep," he murmurs, stroking my hair in earnest now. I don't know what's made him so bold tonight, but I'm too sleepy to think about it much. "I'll wake you up if anything important happens."
"M'kay," I agree, and drift off to the feel of Gale's fingers running gently through my hair.
I don't know how much time passes, but I'm woken by Gale's fingers digging into my skin in a sudden, tight grip around my arm. I roll onto my back, looking up at him. "Ow. What -?"
"The Career from 1," he says tersely, shaking his head. I follow his gaze up to the screen and gasp.
The boy from District 1 - named Stunner, I think - is panting heavily, his eyes wild, a shock of blood sprayed across his face. I don't understand, until they show what's laying before him. It's the body of the girl from District 2. And her head's been nearly severed from her neck.
Someone retches in the darkness behind me. I'm afraid I might vomit myself. I slap my hands over my eyes and turn away, turn into Gale, who wraps his arm around me. "What happened?" I choke out.
"He kept telling the girl and the guy who were arguing to shut up and then he picked up this axe out of nowhere and just - snapped," Gale says, sounding shaken. "The boy -" He stops himself, shuddering slightly. It must have been gruesome if Gale can't even bring himself to tell me.
"A-Astrid?" I whisper.
"She's okay. She wasn't there." He pauses. "She should be okay tonight. I think this is exciting enough to satisfy them."
I start to look back, but Gale rests his hand on the side of my head, turning it gently away. "Don't look yet."
"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Okay."
The walk home is quiet, each of us deep in our own thoughts. We're all relieved that Astrid is alive, but tonight's events were so unsettling that it's hard - wrong, even - to be cheery about it. And that boy with that axe…that axe could come down on anyone next.
An image of the girl from District 2 flashes into my mind without warning. Empty eyes, open mouth, hair wet with blood. My stomach churns uncomfortably and I try to think of anything else. My mind settles on cheese buns, but that leads to the strange encounter with Peeta tonight, that split second when his warm arms were wrapped around me, and that leads to -
"Oh!" I blurt out loud. Somewhere between Peeta's hug and the horror of tonight's broadcast, I'd completely forgotten about the conversation I need to have with Gale. I jog ahead a few steps to catch up with him.
"Hey," I say quietly. "Do you think you could walk us home?"
He looks confused - there's no danger in my mother, Prim and I walking home together - but he nods. "Of course." We wave goodbye to Rory and Vick once we reach the fork in the road, and peel away to the right.
"I just need to talk to Gale for a second," I tell Mother and Prim once we reach the house. "Finalize some hunting plans." Mother just nods, but Prim gives me an odd look before shutting the front door behind her.
"I didn't know we had hunting plans," Gale says with a smirk. "I have work for the next four days straight." But he doesn't move to leave; instead he steps closer.
"No plans," I agree, trying to sound light. But the shock of what happened in the arena tonight still hasn't really worn off, and my words come out flat. This is going to be more difficult than I'd thought.
Gale bends his head towards mine just slightly. "What's going on, Catnip? You're acting…different."
My heart hammers wildly in my chest as I steel my resolve. "I…yes," I say, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I want to do this."
Gale stares down at me. "Do what?"
I search for the right words. "Um…us. I want to be an us."
Gale doesn't react for what feels like forever. My stomach sinks in embarrassment - maybe he doesn't want me anymore. And who could blame him, after all the fights we've had in the last few weeks?
"You want…oh my god," he finally says, and his arms are wrapped tight around me before I can even blink. "Catnip," he murmurs against me, placing a kiss where his lips rest on my hair.
I lift my arms to embrace him back, and we stand like that, entwined outside my front door, for a long, long time. Eventually he pulls away, running his hands over my shoulders, my arms, the slight indent of my waist.
"I can't believe it," he says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. I can't help the smile that spreads across mine in return. He looks happy, for the first time in weeks.
"I don't have a ring for you," he adds regretfully, his hands coming to rest on my hips. "I'm going to be paying off that bracelet for Vick for months."
"Ring?" I repeat, not understanding.
"Yeah," he murmurs, dipping his head down to nuzzle at my ear. "You know, your engagement ring."
"Oh." I stiffen. "Gale, that's…I wasn't talking about marriage."
He pulls away slightly. "Oh."
"I mean - I was serious, before. I don't want to get married. Maybe never, and at least not anytime soon."
Gale looks down to where his hands rest on my torso, his long fingers splayed out across my hipbones. "So what do you want?"
I breathe out shakily. "Just…you?"
This time he doesn't wait. Gale bends down and kisses me hard, the force of his lips taking me by surprise.
We've kissed before, but in the past it was tentative, a question. Now it's an answer. "Okay," he murmurs into my mouth, backing me up against the wall beside the door. "I can live with that."
So many things to say!
1. As always, thank you for your reviews! They're truly awesome.
2. Apologies for updating a whole week late. Life's been pretty busy lately, and it looks like it's going to be that way through the next month or so, so I may not be updating quite as regularly until we get through September/October.
3. A lot of people seem concerned that Katniss is showing interest in Gale. Well, the summary does state "Katniss/Gale" along with "Katniss/Peeta", so yeah, there's going to be some romance between Katniss and Gale - just as there was in the book series. I don't like to explicitly state where a fic is going to end up...but just glance at the HG story summaries on my author page and you might feel reassured about where my loyalties lie. ;)
4. It came to my attention that I have the ages of the Hawthorne bros totally mixed up from canon. Whoops! So just to clear that up, in this story Vick is 16 or 17 and Rory is 14. Vick is not a super-suave 12 year old capable of seducing Merchant girls.
5. I don't love how this chapter turned out, but I spent a lot of time on it so...I'm letting it out into the world now. I am excited about the next chapter though! There's some interesting conversations with Prim and Peeta coming up. And also more of Katniss' thoughts on why exactly she's doing what she's doing.
"It means I'm done. It means I'm free. It means I'll live."
katniss/peeta, katniss/gale, au, r. katniss makes it through her final reaping. part 9 of ?
I'm not surprised that we get a lot of odd looks and whispers as we make our way towards an open spot in the square. What does surprise me is how gracefully Prim handles the attention.
Some of the people we pass smile sadly, murmuring soft sounds of sympathy. One woman I recognize as a teacher from the school even rests her hand comfortingly on Prim's shoulder for a moment.
But there are others who cover their mouths and giggle when they see her, who lean over to whisper into a friend's ear as we pass. Somewhere among the crowd a boy says loudly: "You cheating on your girlfriend with your sister?"
I whip my head around in anger, ready for a confrontation, but Prim grips my hand tighter and rests her other hand on my arm. "It's fine," she says in a low voice. "He's an idiot. I don't care."
I look at my sister, ready to argue, but in the moment I'm struck by how grown-up she suddenly looks. She's standing tall, chin up, eyes clear and alert. "I'm proud of you," I say abruptly, and she smiles a little.
"Thanks."
"I think here is good," Mother pipes up from behind us, gesturing to the little clearing before us. She pulls a threadbare sheet from a woven basket she'd brought along, and Gale helps her spread it on the ground for us to sit on. As they're smoothing out the wrinkles, a small cluster of girls Prim's age step forward.
"Hi Prim," one of them says with a smile. Her black hair is cropped at chin-length, and her collarbones jut prominently from beneath the worn collar of her shirt. This is Jory Overwood, one of the Seam girls Prim hangs out with at school. Her family's bigger than ours - five kids and counting - and even poorer.
"Hi, Jory," Prim responds, hesitation in her voice.
"How are you? We haven't seen you in a while, with school out. We've missed you."
A beaming smile cracks along Prim's face, and I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. Jory's genuine, and the other girls nodding along seem genuine, too. The awkwardness dissipates and the girls start chattering away, catching Prim up on the news about their friends and classmates.
Gale's gaze meets mine across the sheet, our smiles mirroring one another's. Prim will be okay. He tilts his head to the left, raising his eyebrows in question, and I nod. We stroll away slowly, leaving Prim some time alone with her friends.
"Seems like tonight's a good night," Gale remarks.
I start to feel nervous. Maybe I should talk to him now, while we're more or less alone. But then I'll feel rushed, because the Games are about to start, and we'll have to sit through all three hours of the broadcast…it's better to wait. "Yeah," I say simply.
We don't make it too far until I catch sight of a familiar blond head in the corner of my eye. Peeta's here, with a small group of his friends from town. I try to slip past unnoticed, but he turns his head just in time to see me. "Katniss! Hey," he calls out, his face lighting up.
"Hi Peeta. Hey," I add, nodding to his friends. I recognize all of them, but they're Merchant kids. We don't have much to say to each other. They mumble back their hellos, but mostly continue with whatever conversation was going on before I stumbled upon them.
Gale stops right behind me, closer than necessary, and I shiver a little at the feeling of his fingertips skimming light as a feather over my lower back. Peeta doesn't seem to notice. "I haven't seen you here before," he says curiously. "Do you normally come watch in town?"
"No, we just…thought it was a nice night, tonight," I say lamely.
"Definitely." Peeta nods. "I don't come here too often, but sometimes it beats watching with my family."
"Goddammit," Gale interrupts loudly, staring off at something over Peeta's head. "Vick's talking to that girl again…Catnip, I'll be back." He squeezes my arm and charges off, weaving his way through clusters of people.
One of Peeta's friends - a boy with sandy brown hair named Asher, I think - steps forward and nudges him in the arm. "Hey Peet, we're gonna go sit down."
"Sure, I'll be there in a minute," he nods. Once they're gone, he smiles at me. "So your friends call you Catnip?"
"Just Gale," I say, though Gale pretty much encompasses the term "friends" for me. I can't even imagine how he'd react if he heard Peeta calling me by that old nickname. "Yours call you Peet?"
"Sometimes." He shrugs. "I like Peeta better. I feel more like a Peeta."
"I feel more like a Katniss," I admit, though I feel a slight twinge of guilt, as if I'm somehow betraying Gale by saying it.
"So I should rethink my plan to start calling you Kitty Kat?" Peeta laughs loudly at my sour expression. "Okay. Strictly Katniss, then."
Just then, the lights from the Justice Building flash in warning - tonight's broadcast of the Games is about to begin. The loud chatter around us starts to dim, the mood growing somber. Peeta sighs.
"The show must go on," he says sardonically. "D'you want to come sit with us? We're just over there." He gestures to his friends, who are seated on a few blankets a short distance away.
"No, I should go back and find Prim," I respond. "Thanks, though."
"Alright. Well." He pauses, then steps forward and gives me a brief, light hug. "Um. See you later."
I don't answer, frozen in place. Did Peeta just…hug me? I catch a glimpse of his face as he turns away - I think he's shocked by what he did, too. He hurries off towards his friends, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
A moment later I return to my senses, spinning around and walking quickly back to the spot where I left Prim and my mother. My heart is pounding, though I can't pinpoint why. I already knew Peeta liked me. I shouldn't be stunned when that means he wants to…touch me. Besides, it was more of a friendly hug, over so fast that it hardly counted.
It only takes me a minute to track down my family again. Prim's friends are gone and she's sitting on the ground between my mother and Rory, but Gale and Vick are nowhere to be seen. I hope fervently that Gale didn't see Peeta embrace me. If he did, he might not even be willing to listen to what I have to tell him tonight.
Rory sees me approach and scoots over so I can sit beside Prim. I settle onto the ground beside her, and she turns to look at me. "Who were you talking to?" she asks.
"No one," I say quickly. Thankfully, the massive screen over the stage lights up and the show starts before she can press any further.
Tonight starts off with some mentor interviews. There are a few appreciative whistles from the crowd when Finnick Odair, a former victor from District 4, shows up onscreen to talk up his tributes, both of whom are still in the arena. Since he was introduced to the country in the 65th Games at the age of 14, he's become known as the most beautiful man in Panem. With his tanned skin and lustrous hair and cheeky grin projected onto the big screen before us, it's certainly hard to imagine anyone who looks better.
The crowd goes quiet, however, when it's time for Haymitch Abernathy to speak. As our only living victor, and a raging alcoholic, Haymitch is something of a joke around District 12. Just a few years ago he actually fell off the stage at the Reaping, only to vomit on Effie Trinket's shoes when a Peacekeeper helped him back up. As a child of District 12, I'm sure there's no worse feeling than realizing you've been Reaped - but realizing that Haymitch Abernathy is the only person who's looking out for you? It's got to be a close second.
Haymitch looks exhausted and out of place on the fancy set where the mentors are giving their interviews. It must be five, six years since the last time a District 12 tribute made it far enough to warrant a top ten interview.
"Astrid? Yeah. She's…she's a fighter. Always fighting." He leans forward a little as the voice of the interviewer offscreen asks him to clarify: How is Astrid a fighter? There's a long stretch of silence, and Haymitch rubs a hand over his face wearily.
"Well, you know. She's out there, taking it day by day. That's our strategy. Day by day."
I can see my mother shaking her head sadly on the other side of Prim, who is staring up at the screen with a slight frown on her face. Despite his words, it's painfully clear that there is no real strategy for Astrid. They may not match the words he's speaking, but Haymitch's eyes say it all: he's just as defeated this year as he has been for the last twenty-odd years. Sometimes a tribute manages to cling to life a little longer than the others; it's no reason to get your hopes up.
"He's not even trying," Prim murmurs.
When Haymitch is done, the cameras cut to a splitscreen with all ten remaining tributes. My eyes focus immediately on the lower right-hand corner, where Astrid is quietly picking berries in a secluded part of the forest. But after just a few seconds, the full screen cuts to a view of the Careers. Again.
The Games always start to narrow their focus on the Careers around this time. Ostensibly it's because they're the group that's most likely to produce a winner, but I can't help but wonder if the tactic is self-fulfilling, encouraging sponsors to boost their support simply because they see them onscreen the most.
They're also the most likely to produce the best drama, though. They fight. They hunt the other kids. Once in a while a pair will sneak off and have sex; perfunctory, emotionless sex, like two squirrels mating in the woods. It's uncomfortable to watch, not titillating, but the cameras don't acknowledge how awkward and wrong it is, zooming in to the places where their bodies join, where dirty, sallow skin slips against skin.
Tonight we're treated to an argument brewing between the tributes from District 2. According to the commentary from Claudius Templesmith, it's some kind of ongoing conflict between them, but I tend to zone out when the Careers are onscreen, so I can't really follow the conversation. The tributes from the Career districts are always so interchangeable - athletic, well-fed 17- and 18-year-olds with shiny hair and cruel smiles.
My gaze drifts away from the screen, over to the right, and I can just barely make out Peeta sitting cross-legged on a picnic blanket with his friends. The others sit with their chins tilted up, watching the screen, but Peeta's looking down at his hands. It reminds me of when we watched the bloodbath together, how he'd focused on his hands then, too.
After awhile I start to feel tired, and move away from the others to lay down, resting my head on my arm. Gale reappears with Vick, both of them looking annoyed. "Hey," Gale greets me softly, sitting down just behind me on our sheet.
"Hey. Everything okay?"
Gale sighs. "It's fine." His knuckles run lightly over my hair. "Vick's just being stupid."
"Mmm."
"You tired?" I nod heavily. "You should go to sleep," he murmurs, stroking my hair in earnest now. I don't know what's made him so bold tonight, but I'm too sleepy to think about it much. "I'll wake you up if anything important happens."
"M'kay," I agree, and drift off to the feel of Gale's fingers running gently through my hair.
I don't know how much time passes, but I'm woken by Gale's fingers digging into my skin in a sudden, tight grip around my arm. I roll onto my back, looking up at him. "Ow. What -?"
"The Career from 1," he says tersely, shaking his head. I follow his gaze up to the screen and gasp.
The boy from District 1 - named Stunner, I think - is panting heavily, his eyes wild, a shock of blood sprayed across his face. I don't understand, until they show what's laying before him. It's the body of the girl from District 2. And her head's been nearly severed from her neck.
Someone retches in the darkness behind me. I'm afraid I might vomit myself. I slap my hands over my eyes and turn away, turn into Gale, who wraps his arm around me. "What happened?" I choke out.
"He kept telling the girl and the guy who were arguing to shut up and then he picked up this axe out of nowhere and just - snapped," Gale says, sounding shaken. "The boy -" He stops himself, shuddering slightly. It must have been gruesome if Gale can't even bring himself to tell me.
"A-Astrid?" I whisper.
"She's okay. She wasn't there." He pauses. "She should be okay tonight. I think this is exciting enough to satisfy them."
I start to look back, but Gale rests his hand on the side of my head, turning it gently away. "Don't look yet."
"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Okay."
The walk home is quiet, each of us deep in our own thoughts. We're all relieved that Astrid is alive, but tonight's events were so unsettling that it's hard - wrong, even - to be cheery about it. And that boy with that axe…that axe could come down on anyone next.
An image of the girl from District 2 flashes into my mind without warning. Empty eyes, open mouth, hair wet with blood. My stomach churns uncomfortably and I try to think of anything else. My mind settles on cheese buns, but that leads to the strange encounter with Peeta tonight, that split second when his warm arms were wrapped around me, and that leads to -
"Oh!" I blurt out loud. Somewhere between Peeta's hug and the horror of tonight's broadcast, I'd completely forgotten about the conversation I need to have with Gale. I jog ahead a few steps to catch up with him.
"Hey," I say quietly. "Do you think you could walk us home?"
He looks confused - there's no danger in my mother, Prim and I walking home together - but he nods. "Of course." We wave goodbye to Rory and Vick once we reach the fork in the road, and peel away to the right.
"I just need to talk to Gale for a second," I tell Mother and Prim once we reach the house. "Finalize some hunting plans." Mother just nods, but Prim gives me an odd look before shutting the front door behind her.
"I didn't know we had hunting plans," Gale says with a smirk. "I have work for the next four days straight." But he doesn't move to leave; instead he steps closer.
"No plans," I agree, trying to sound light. But the shock of what happened in the arena tonight still hasn't really worn off, and my words come out flat. This is going to be more difficult than I'd thought.
Gale bends his head towards mine just slightly. "What's going on, Catnip? You're acting…different."
My heart hammers wildly in my chest as I steel my resolve. "I…yes," I say, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I want to do this."
Gale stares down at me. "Do what?"
I search for the right words. "Um…us. I want to be an us."
Gale doesn't react for what feels like forever. My stomach sinks in embarrassment - maybe he doesn't want me anymore. And who could blame him, after all the fights we've had in the last few weeks?
"You want…oh my god," he finally says, and his arms are wrapped tight around me before I can even blink. "Catnip," he murmurs against me, placing a kiss where his lips rest on my hair.
I lift my arms to embrace him back, and we stand like that, entwined outside my front door, for a long, long time. Eventually he pulls away, running his hands over my shoulders, my arms, the slight indent of my waist.
"I can't believe it," he says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. I can't help the smile that spreads across mine in return. He looks happy, for the first time in weeks.
"I don't have a ring for you," he adds regretfully, his hands coming to rest on my hips. "I'm going to be paying off that bracelet for Vick for months."
"Ring?" I repeat, not understanding.
"Yeah," he murmurs, dipping his head down to nuzzle at my ear. "You know, your engagement ring."
"Oh." I stiffen. "Gale, that's…I wasn't talking about marriage."
He pulls away slightly. "Oh."
"I mean - I was serious, before. I don't want to get married. Maybe never, and at least not anytime soon."
Gale looks down to where his hands rest on my torso, his long fingers splayed out across my hipbones. "So what do you want?"
I breathe out shakily. "Just…you?"
This time he doesn't wait. Gale bends down and kisses me hard, the force of his lips taking me by surprise.
We've kissed before, but in the past it was tentative, a question. Now it's an answer. "Okay," he murmurs into my mouth, backing me up against the wall beside the door. "I can live with that."
So many things to say!
1. As always, thank you for your reviews! They're truly awesome.
2. Apologies for updating a whole week late. Life's been pretty busy lately, and it looks like it's going to be that way through the next month or so, so I may not be updating quite as regularly until we get through September/October.
3. A lot of people seem concerned that Katniss is showing interest in Gale. Well, the summary does state "Katniss/Gale" along with "Katniss/Peeta", so yeah, there's going to be some romance between Katniss and Gale - just as there was in the book series. I don't like to explicitly state where a fic is going to end up...but just glance at the HG story summaries on my author page and you might feel reassured about where my loyalties lie. ;)
4. It came to my attention that I have the ages of the Hawthorne bros totally mixed up from canon. Whoops! So just to clear that up, in this story Vick is 16 or 17 and Rory is 14. Vick is not a super-suave 12 year old capable of seducing Merchant girls.
5. I don't love how this chapter turned out, but I spent a lot of time on it so...I'm letting it out into the world now. I am excited about the next chapter though! There's some interesting conversations with Prim and Peeta coming up. And also more of Katniss' thoughts on why exactly she's doing what she's doing.