Chapter Text
After
I saw her in a shitty bar one night after work. Probably eight months after the execution. Her hair went to her chin, now. Streaks of dyed red ran through the dark brunette. A quarter-sized section grew in grey toward the back of her head. Probably from the torture, maybe from the stress. She had put on some weight- she almost looked healthy rather than the skeletal form I’d seen at the execution. She wore strawberry red lipstick and still looked deadly as ever.
I can’t totally explain why I was there that night. I think my coworkers were worried when I mentioned not doing much during the evenings and weekends. I hoped that saying I went to a bar might keep them from trying to become my friends. That’s my best guess, at least. I also desperately needed a drink, and I didn’t want to be someone who drank alone.
“I’ve heard of some nasty interactions between morphling and alcohol,” I said as I took the barstool next to her. I don’t remember deciding to sit with her.
“Lucky me that I’ve been weaned then, right?” She said with some bite.
I deserved it. I know the miserable feeling of emptiness that came from stopping morphling from the one time I’d taken it. I didn’t envy her misery. I waved at the bartender and ordered something that tasted like fire.
“Well, I’m glad you aren’t crossfading, I guess?” I don’t know why I said that. I tried to sip at my drink casually.
“I’m not.” She shrugged. “But at least the booze does something, right?” She snarked, tipping her drink in my general direction. She hadn’t actually looked at me since I sat down.
“So is this how you’re coping now? You’ve met Haymitch, right?” I laughed toward her, bitter and cruel. I don’t know why I was being a dick to her, but I couldn’t stop. It felt all too natural to lash out at someone who shared such a similar history, yet knew nothing about me.
“I kind of hoped winning the Games, Snow killing my entire family, Capitol torture, and other general hell would keep asshole soldier sheep from questioning my coping mechanisms.” She finally looked at me before she took a deep breath and looked back at her drink. Her eyes flashed a fire and anger I only saw when I looked in the mirror.
“So bitter for someone in our new, free Panem, aren’t we?” I clucked my tongue. She turned back, eyes blazing again.
“You’re damn right. I am bitter.” She spat. “The only people I care about are all dead or too traumatized to be around me. The one friend I had- My only real friend got eaten and fucking blown up in the sewers, in case you forgot.” I flinched. I coped with the after-effects of our attack on the Capitol better than a lot of our remaining squad, but thinking about Finnick’s death still made me want to vomit. “So tell me; why are you here chastising me and not Finnick, yeah?” It felt like she hit me.
“Ok- that is not fair.” I sipped at my drink, trying to put more space between the two of us. All of this was a mistake.
“Sure it is. You’d be fucking pissed too if I were here instead of Katniss.” She was right, obviously, but pissing me off.
“I mean. You weren’t cleared for combat, so that wasn’t much of a worry.” I shrugged back at her. That was a low blow. She didn’t flinch, just flashed a bright smile.
“Oh, wait, she’s not in your life anymore because your fucking bombs blew her sister to bits, right?” She raised one finger and then another. “So, Finnick and Prim… That’s two people blown to shit in your care, yeah?”
“No-“
“More than two? Jesus. Should I have a fire extinguisher?” Her eyes gleamed with psychotic laughter.
“Only if you keep fanning flames.” I cut her off. She was being too loud in this tiny bar. “Anyways, that is not what happened,” I whispered toward her.
“At this point, who gives a fuck what happened? They’re still dead.” She threw her hands up. “I know your family made it out safe. Don’t act like I don’t have every reason to be bitter, just because you don’t get it.” Anger flamed in my heart.
“I don’t get it? You think I haven’t lost people, too?” I yanked her seat toward me so she met my eye. “My best friend and hunting partner doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. My childhood friends and m-my… My town got fucking firebombed.” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head at me. Her anger briefly dissipated.
“Who else?”
“What?” She smirked at me.
“Don’t be cute; who else did you lose?” Her smile glittered. Dangerous. “You’re not telling me something, I can tell. If we’re comparing trauma, build your case a bit. Show me that sad puppy heart I’m supposed to pity.” She grinned at me. Challenge in her eyes.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t tell Johanna Mason about Her.
Before
It shouldn’t hurt anymore.
We were done and through well before the bombing. We shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. It was basically a blip over one of the hardest years of my life. Comfort in misery. That’s it.
Nonetheless, She still haunts me. My dreams. My heart.
She probably always will.
I met Her when Katniss and I started hunting and foraging. Selling to some of the politicians and peacekeepers. It was stupid and dangerous, but they wanted fresh meat, too. The Mayor was one of the last we approached. It felt especially stupid and dangerous, but sometimes even peacekeepers were too tight on funds to buy from us. We had to do something. We had kids to feed. Katniss had an inside source who said the mayor wouldn’t report us. I remember the fear I felt the first time we knocked on his back door. We couldn’t risk being caught, both for his reputation and our lives.
She answered the door. She was pale, blonde, and not particularly pretty. She was built like a string bean with a long, thin face. She wore a pretty dress that fit Her perfectly- not a hand-me-down- all ruffly and blue. It matched Her eyes. She was probably 12 at the time. I was 15, I think. It was a weird age gap back then. I wouldn’t find Her physically attractive for a little while. A couple of years.
She answered the door in Her frilly dress. I hated Her and Her dress instantly. What a privilege to flaunt that She had a Sunday best to wear. Her face shifted through several emotions as She took us in. Confusion at the disturbance, excitement to see Katniss. And then She saw me. She stepped back just a bit, putting Her body behind the door as much as She could. She looked nervous. Her eyes shifted between us.
“We-uh. We’ve found some food by the Meadow. Sometimes animals, uh. Mushrooms. Some strawberries.” Katniss said. Her eyes lit up. “We wondered if your father needed anything.” She angled Herself more to speak to Katniss, but Her eyes continued to flick over to me suspiciously.
“He does love strawberries.” She said quietly to Katniss. Katniss nodded and held the bucket toward Her. Her eyes grew.
“They look much nicer than the ones we usually buy.” Her voice was so quiet. She was meek, soft-spoken. Awkward. “I’ll get some money from my father. Do you mind if I show him?” Katniss began to hand the bucket toward Her, but I stopped her with my arm.
“Wait. What’s stopping you from slamming the door without paying?” Her eyebrows furrowed. She was confused. She didn’t have to worry much about theft, I guess.
“I’ll leave the door open?” She said even more quietly. Katniss huffed.
“Gale- Madge is fine. Here, show him.” Katniss stepped past me and handed the bucket to Her.
So that’s Her name. Not a very pretty name, either. She nodded and stepped back into Her house, leaving the door open like She said She would. Katniss glared at me. I shrugged. She came back a few moments later with an empty bucket and a handful of coins. Katniss bit her lip. It was a lot of coins. Stupid rich girl.
“This is what we normally spend at the market. Is it enough? Yours are much nicer.” She looked worriedly toward Katniss.
“No, I think that’s about right.” She said, poker face slipping from excitement. She nodded, but Her face was preoccupied. A silly girl lost in thought.
“He eats a lot of strawberries. My mother loves them too.” She said to the floor. “Is it too out of your way to bring more next week?” She asked sweetly. Katniss almost coughed.
“Yeah. We’ll have more next week.” I said shortly. She nodded.
“See you then, Madge.” Katniss let a rare smile slip out. We turned, and I heard the door close behind us. Katniss was practically skipping.
“Rich brat,” I said grumpily.
“What are you talking about? This could be a game-changer, Gale.”
“Can you imagine spending that much money, weekly, Katniss?”
“I’m starting to be able to.” She said with a grin as she held the coins up near my face and rattled them in her hand. I couldn't help but smirk at her.
“That’s not even all they spend- just on their berries. Can you imagine being so frivolous?” Frustration coursed through me.
“If I had the money, yeah. Maybe?”
“You wouldn’t.” I knew Katniss; she wouldn’t.
“You need to be nicer to Her. She’s not a threat or anything.”
“Well, I think She’s judgy,” I grumbled.
“Why? She was more than happy with the berries.”
“Did you see the way She looked at us?” I ran my hands through my hair. “Like we were some dirty Seam thugs come to rob Her.” Katniss stopped walking for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed.
“I don’t think She has any problem with the Seam. She and I have worked on a lot of school projects. She’s quiet, but She’s always been plenty kind to me.”
“Well, She was giving me dirty looks. Inching back into her house like I might rob Her.” Katniss rolled her eyes.
“God, Gale, you’re so dense.” She almost laughed before she started walking again.
“Enlighten me.” I snapped.
“If a boy two-three years older and a foot taller than me knocked on my back door on a random afternoon, I’d- Well, I’d be pretty nervous, too.” She looked up at me. Katniss was small, too. “She was just scared.”
“I’m not scary,” I said defensively.
“I was terrified when I saw you in the woods the first time.” She shrugged, looking away from me. “Thought you might poach me.”
“Damn. I guess I should get shorter.” I said with a laugh.
“It might help.” She finally let go of the glare she’d lasered my way this whole conversation.
I didn’t think of Her at all over the next week. I barely even thought of Her as we plucked strawberries from the patch outside the Meadow for Her. We dropped the strawberries off that afternoon. She smiled brightly, and I went back to not thinking about Her. When I was young, I almost never thought of Her if I could help it.
I’d have a lot of regrets in the future. But I’d regret with confusion for the rest of my life how easy it was for me to not think of Her back then. It was never easy not to think about Her, now.