Firelight
Chapter One
Gale wakes at a sound in the night, turns, and almost falls off the couch he is sleeping on.
"Damn," he whispers, gripping the plush cushions and he pricks and ear for whatever has woken him. He tells himself that maybe it was just a fox in the bushes outside, but he knows better. There's a reason why he's been sleeping in this room, on the couch, for three months, and it isn't because his family's house has been completely destroyed. Well, not completely because of that.
"No!"
That's the noise he was waiting for. Definitely not a fox. Gale slides quietly off the couch and walks over to the large bed that dominates the room. Peeta turns restlessly in his sleep, clutching the covers as Gale approaches, muttering a constant stream of pleas for help mingled with small yelps of pain.
The nightmares come at the same time every night, when the moon is about to dip below the great mountains that edge District 12 and used to provide a livelihood to the miners who spent their days deep inside their dark tunnels. The sun is still a long way from rising, and the darkest part of the night is about to begin.
Gale puts his hand on Peeta's brow, smooths his hair, and mutters in what he hopes is a soothing way.
He wonders how he has come to be here, caring for the ruined shell of what used to be Peeta Mellark, hero of the revolution, out in the ruins of District 12.
Peeta Mellark. The boy that Gale has spent most of his life detesting, a feeling that has only intensified in the three years since his name was drawn in the reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. He never thought that he would be jealous of anyone who had been selected to face the torment of the arena and the bloodbath inside, but that year he had wished more than anything that it had been his name that had been called, so that he could protect her. Protect Katniss Everdeen. Katniss. He never says her name, hardly even thinks it to himself, but she is the reason that he is here now, comforting the poor, addled shell of a man that was once just a simple baker's son. He remembers her last words to him very clearly, before she walked off into the forest, never to be seen again.
"Look after him, Gale, Help him to remember. You owe me that much."
He had tried to follow her through the woods, had thought she might even be waiting for him at their rock, their favorite place. But he could find no trace of her anywhere.
"Shhh," Gale whispers again, smoothing the hand that is clasping the sheets until Peeta lets go. Satisfied that the nightmares are over, at least until tomorrow night, Gale allows himself to drift off to sleep curled next to Peeta, arm outstretched to calm any more terrors that might come.
He is woken by the sunlight hitting him in the eye as the curtains are drawn back by Peeta's housekeeper, Verbena.
"I'm going to be cleaning out the fireplace today, so no coming into the living room and trailing soot everywhere, okay?" She turns around and her face softens a little. Gale thinks he knows why. She probably thinks they are a cute couple.
It wouldn't be the first time that people have assumed that he and Peeta are lovers, for a lack of a better word. How else could people explain the way he suddenly moved into Peeta's house? The way that Peeta never goes down to the markets or out to his father's old bakery without Gale hovering close by?
About a month after 'That Day', as Gale has come to call it in his head, his mother and younger siblings came to the door of Peeta's house, and then proceeded to sit down at the rough wood kitchen table and tell Gale how excited they were that he had finally found a way to be happy. Gale didn't know what to say, didn't want to tell him that this didn't make him happy, that it was his punishment for what he had done during the war. So he just sipped quietly on his tea and offered them more sandwiches. It seemed the proper thing to do.
Now, two months after his family's little 'talk', Gale is used to the subtle smiles of congratulation he sees when walking around the ruins of District 12 with Peeta, trying to figure out which parts need repairing and which ones are quite beyond anyone's help. He is also used to the not-so-subtle winks and nudges from shopkeepers when he is out buying supplies by himself, when Peeta is too tired to leave the house. Those are the most uncomfortable times. Most of the time spent out of the house is uncomfortable for Gale, because nobody knows the real reason he sticks to Peeta like the sap of a freshly cut tree sticks to an axe.
"You owe me that much."
The debt he has to repay.
Nobody can tell whether it was his bomb that killed her sister, along with all the children she was trying to help. Gale thinks it probably doesn't matter now. If her love for Peeta, which he accepts exists, though it hurts him to admit it, couldn't keep her here, then the unknowable answer to this question probably would have had no affect either. He had been willing to sacrifice children, and anyone sent to help them, in order to win the war. Well, now the war was won, and Gale had to pick up the pieces.
"Damn," he whispers, gripping the plush cushions and he pricks and ear for whatever has woken him. He tells himself that maybe it was just a fox in the bushes outside, but he knows better. There's a reason why he's been sleeping in this room, on the couch, for three months, and it isn't because his family's house has been completely destroyed. Well, not completely because of that.
"No!"
That's the noise he was waiting for. Definitely not a fox. Gale slides quietly off the couch and walks over to the large bed that dominates the room. Peeta turns restlessly in his sleep, clutching the covers as Gale approaches, muttering a constant stream of pleas for help mingled with small yelps of pain.
The nightmares come at the same time every night, when the moon is about to dip below the great mountains that edge District 12 and used to provide a livelihood to the miners who spent their days deep inside their dark tunnels. The sun is still a long way from rising, and the darkest part of the night is about to begin.
Gale puts his hand on Peeta's brow, smooths his hair, and mutters in what he hopes is a soothing way.
He wonders how he has come to be here, caring for the ruined shell of what used to be Peeta Mellark, hero of the revolution, out in the ruins of District 12.
Peeta Mellark. The boy that Gale has spent most of his life detesting, a feeling that has only intensified in the three years since his name was drawn in the reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. He never thought that he would be jealous of anyone who had been selected to face the torment of the arena and the bloodbath inside, but that year he had wished more than anything that it had been his name that had been called, so that he could protect her. Protect Katniss Everdeen. Katniss. He never says her name, hardly even thinks it to himself, but she is the reason that he is here now, comforting the poor, addled shell of a man that was once just a simple baker's son. He remembers her last words to him very clearly, before she walked off into the forest, never to be seen again.
"Look after him, Gale, Help him to remember. You owe me that much."
He had tried to follow her through the woods, had thought she might even be waiting for him at their rock, their favorite place. But he could find no trace of her anywhere.
"Shhh," Gale whispers again, smoothing the hand that is clasping the sheets until Peeta lets go. Satisfied that the nightmares are over, at least until tomorrow night, Gale allows himself to drift off to sleep curled next to Peeta, arm outstretched to calm any more terrors that might come.
He is woken by the sunlight hitting him in the eye as the curtains are drawn back by Peeta's housekeeper, Verbena.
"I'm going to be cleaning out the fireplace today, so no coming into the living room and trailing soot everywhere, okay?" She turns around and her face softens a little. Gale thinks he knows why. She probably thinks they are a cute couple.
It wouldn't be the first time that people have assumed that he and Peeta are lovers, for a lack of a better word. How else could people explain the way he suddenly moved into Peeta's house? The way that Peeta never goes down to the markets or out to his father's old bakery without Gale hovering close by?
About a month after 'That Day', as Gale has come to call it in his head, his mother and younger siblings came to the door of Peeta's house, and then proceeded to sit down at the rough wood kitchen table and tell Gale how excited they were that he had finally found a way to be happy. Gale didn't know what to say, didn't want to tell him that this didn't make him happy, that it was his punishment for what he had done during the war. So he just sipped quietly on his tea and offered them more sandwiches. It seemed the proper thing to do.
Now, two months after his family's little 'talk', Gale is used to the subtle smiles of congratulation he sees when walking around the ruins of District 12 with Peeta, trying to figure out which parts need repairing and which ones are quite beyond anyone's help. He is also used to the not-so-subtle winks and nudges from shopkeepers when he is out buying supplies by himself, when Peeta is too tired to leave the house. Those are the most uncomfortable times. Most of the time spent out of the house is uncomfortable for Gale, because nobody knows the real reason he sticks to Peeta like the sap of a freshly cut tree sticks to an axe.
"You owe me that much."
The debt he has to repay.
Nobody can tell whether it was his bomb that killed her sister, along with all the children she was trying to help. Gale thinks it probably doesn't matter now. If her love for Peeta, which he accepts exists, though it hurts him to admit it, couldn't keep her here, then the unknowable answer to this question probably would have had no affect either. He had been willing to sacrifice children, and anyone sent to help them, in order to win the war. Well, now the war was won, and Gale had to pick up the pieces.