Gale wants to hate Peeta—for loving Katniss; for making Katniss love him back; for being the type of person you hate until you meet him, until you see the humble, unselfish goodness that comes out of every part of him in every stupid thing he says and does.
Gale wants to hate him, but he can't.
--
Gale doesn't want to help them train, but he does it anyway. He does it for Katniss because she asks, and he does it for Peeta because he doesn't want to feel the crushing weight of guilt if he says no (out of bitterness, selfishness, pride).
Peeta's not so good at snares anyhow. His fingers, so nimble and talented with paints and icing, are clumsy with the snares. He falters and they crumple in his hands and he curses under his breath; tries again.
"I'm no good at this," Peeta sighs, fourth or fifth try in pieces at his feet.
A little ways apart from them, Katniss is attempting to show Haymitch the proper way to knot a noose with little success. Gale can tell she isn't trying very hard; he knows her inside-out and he knows Peeta as well as anyone does (from the Games) to know that they've already planned to replace Haymitch if he is called at the reaping.
"You just have to do it slowly," he says, trying to sound patient instead of exasperated. He takes the cord out of Peeta's hands; it's knotted and ruined, but that's okay. He's got more. "And, even if you're still not so good, Katniss will be the one making them most likely, so you don't need to worry."
"I don't want to have to rely on Katniss for everything," Peeta retorts heatedly. "I don't want to be half-dead and useless like last time around."
Gale isn't sure what to say to that. Part of him wants to say he would've been better; he would have helped Katniss, helped her win, been the better partner than Peeta could have been. But there's another part, a larger one, that wants to console, and that scares him, a strange nausea in his stomach and a stutter of his fingers (like with Katniss, he thinks, before shoving it back).
"I doubt Katniss thought you were useless," he says instead, sounding vague and stupid, and demonstrates how to make the snare again.
--
When he goes to Haymitch's house he expects to find the man passed out on his kitchen table or his mom cooking on the fancy stove all the big houses in the district have installed in them. But his mom isn't there and Haymitch is nowhere to be seen.
It's just Peeta, pouring a bottle of white wine down the sink drain, his mouth curving down in a disappointed sort of frown. He looks up to Gale when he enters the kitchen, surprise flickering across his face before he smooths his expression into a cool mask.
"I don't know how he always manages to find more of this stuff," Peeta says, and sets the empty bottle next to the sink.
Gale shrugs. "I was just seeing if my mom was here."
"She was already gone when I got here. You probably just missed her on your way up."
"Thanks."
The air between them is awkward and a little stifling. He's turning away, ready to go before he says something angry (something jealous), but Peeta's voice stops him.
"I know you don't like me," Peeta says, all matter-of-fact. "Because of Katniss. And, even if that wasn't an issue, I know we wouldn't even know each other, but—try not to get yourself killed."
"What?" he asks blankly.
"Don't get yourself killed trying to be a revolutionary. Katniss would never forgive you if you did, and I—"he pauses, as if trying to think of the right thing to say next. "I'd kind of miss having you around."
"You act like you're both going to come back again," Gale says.
"I like to pretend it's possible sometimes."
Gale isn't sure what to say, what to do. He isn't sure what's appropriate to say to the guy that stole his almost-girl, who he doesn't hate nearly as much as he wishes he did, who will most likely be dead in a couple weeks' time.
He walks a few steps closer; gives Peeta an awkward clap on the shoulder that he hopes doesn't seem aggressive.
"I won't if you try not to get killed off too quickly."
It's not funny, but Peeta smiles anyway. "I'll try."
--
Gale watches the television like everyone else until he isn't because he's being tortured; because he's trying to find Katniss' mom and sister so they can escape; because they're on an airship from District 13 and District 12 (his home, his friends, his life) is burning, burning, gone and Gale isn't doing anything but mourning. And inside, a rage is continuing to fester, to grow into something awful and monstrous he doesn't think will ever go away.
--
They save Katniss and they save a few other tributes, but Peeta gets captured anyway (and he's not sure why, but it feels like a failure).
Katniss cries and screams and hurts when she wakes up, and Gale kind of wants to too. He grasps her shoulder firmly with his good hand, tries to soak up her excess hurt, to internalize and make it part of the rage that is so fast consuming.
There is a silence between them, and a sense of loss between them that pulls them close together and he wishes he couldn't share this hurt, didn't want to, but it's too late now, too late for them and too late for anything but the revolution that came too fast, too soon.