WARNING: If you haven't read Mockingjay yet, don't read this. It gives away pretty much everything.

So this is pretty much a figment of my imagination, how I would've liked Mockingjay to end. The ending's not bad, but when I want something to happen and it doesn't, I get mad. I don't really know myself what's going to happen besides Katniss and Gale end up together. I'm including quite a bit of the existing text in the beginning, just to kind of ease into it, I suppose. And I may throw in a few bits and pieces later on as well.

I'm starting my alternate ending on page 361 of Mockingjay. Everything that's happened still happens. The only minor(ish) changes you need to keep in mind so far are that when Katniss wakes up after Prim dies, Gale is still in the Capitol with her, recovering from the two bullets he was shot with. And Peeta still came to the Capitol, but he's not nearly as recovered as in the book. If my next chapters need more of a background I'll tell you then. So…now I begin.

Disclaimer: THG belongs to Suzanne Collins. Duh.

I badly need help working this out, only everyone I trust is dead. Cinna. Boggs. Finnick. Prim. There's Peeta, but he couldn't do any more than speculate, and who knows what state his mind's in, anyway. And that leaves only Gale. He's still in the hospital, recovering from those bullets. The bullets that were my fault. My fault for leading him and the rest of Squad 451 on the fabricated mission to kill Snow. Not to mention the numerous deaths I caused. Finnick, Leeg 1 and 2, Mitchell, Boggs…the list goes on. All my fault. I wander through the mansion, deep in thought. I find myself, hours later, curled up inside a cabinet in a deserted kitchen. I need to see Gale. He's the only one I can confide in…but can I? Those parachutes…they were Gale's idea. It was Gale's fault. No, I tell myself, Gale did nothing wrong. Don't even think about blaming him. Then I'm running through the mansion at full speed, toward Haymitch's room. I burst through the door without bothering to knock, and skid to a stop. Ugh. It's amazing how quickly he can defile a space. Half-eaten plates of food, shattered liquor bottles, and pieces of broken furniture from a drunken rampage scatter his quarters. He lies, unkempt and unwashed, in a tangle of sheets on the bed, passed out.

"Haymitch," I say, shaking his leg. Of course, that's insufficient. But I give it a few more tries before I dump the pitcher of water in his face. He comes to with a gasp, slashing blindly with his knife. Apparently, the end of Snow's reign didn't equal the end of his terror.

"Oh. You," he says. I can tell by his voice that he's still loaded.

"Haymitch," I begin.

"Listen to that. The Mockingjay finally found her voice." He laughs. "Well, Plutarch's going to be happy." He takes a swig from a bottle. "Why am I soaking wet?" I lamely drop the pitcher behind me into a pile of dirty clothes.

"I need to see Gale," I say.

Haymitch belches, filling the air with white liquor fumes. "What is it, sweetheart? More boy trouble?" I don't know why, but this hurts me in a way Haymitch rarely can. It must show on my face, because even in his drunken state, he tries to take it back. "Okay, not funny." I'm already at the door. "Not funny! Come back!" By the thud of his body hitting the floor, I assume he tried to follow me, but there's no point.

I zigzag through the mansion and disappear into a wardrobe full of silken things. I yank them from hangers until I have a pile and then burrow into it. In the lining of my pocket, I find a stray morphling tablet and swallow it dry, heading off my rising hysteria. It's not enough to right things, though. I hear Haymitch calling me in the distance, but he won't find me in his condition. Especially not in this new spot. Swathed in silk, I feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon awaiting metamorphosis. I always supposed that to be a peaceful condition. At first it is. But as I journey into night, I feel more and more trapped, suffocated by the slippery bindings, unable to emerge until I have transformed into something of beauty. I squirm, trying to shed my ruined body and unlock the secret to growing flawless wings. Despite enormous effort, I remain a hideous creature, fired into my current form by the blast from the bombs.

The encounter with Snow opens the door to my old repertoire of nightmares. It's like being stung by tracker jackers again. A wave of horrifying images with a brief respite I confuse with waking-only to find another wave knocking me back. When he finally locates me, I'm sitting on the floor of the wardrobe, tangled in silk, screaming my head off. He does nothing to calm me down, just sits on the floor beside me, and yet it helps. I scream for another couple of minutes before my hysteria turns into a wave of tears. He puts one arm around me and I bury my face into his chest, sobbing. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know I'm back on the bed in my room.

A very hungover Haymitch waits with a handful of pills and a tray of food that neither of us has the stomach for. He makes a feeble attempt to get me to talk again but, seeing it's pointless, leaves the room without a word. I curl up beneath the sheets, fighting tears. I've only been there for a few minutes before a voice says, "Hey, Catnip." Once I disentangle myself from the mess of blankets, Gale looks at me, taking in my matted, singed hair, my hideous, scorched skin, and my tear-streaked face.

"Hey," I reply hoarsely, "what's up?" Gale walks over and sits on the edge of my bed. He doesn't answer, so, after a long pause, finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?"

"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."

Another long silence. I don't reply, so Gale gets up to leave. Once he's out the door, I slump over and wait for another round of did I have to ask? I should've waited for another time. Now Gale's gone, too. I'll probably never see him again. He might as well be dead. A racking sob works its way out of me, and I wait to explode.

"Katniss?" I thought Gale had gone, but he's still standing in the doorway, looking at me, concerned for my sanity, I suppose. "Catnip, I'm sorry. Do you want me to stay?" I nod weakly, not sure if I do want him there. I know he'll leave soon anyway, so wouldn't it be best if he just left, rather than dragging out the goodbye? Gale is sitting at the foot of my bed, waiting for me to speak, so I take a shaky breath and say, "Gale, I-I'm sorry. I just-"

"It's okay, Katniss. You don't have to say anything, I understand. I knew it wouldn't happen."

His eyes are filled with tears and his lower lip is trembling slightly. I can't bear seeing him like this, so I get up and hug him. He pulls away after a few quick seconds and walks swiftly out the door. "Bye, Catnip. Miss you." I hear him mutter. As soon as he's out of my sight, I listen to his feet break into a run, fading away much too fast.

This is what you wanted, I tell myself. No. Not what I wanted. I wanted to be with Peeta. Where is Peeta, anyway? I haven't seen him since… I don't remember when I saw him last. He seemed a lot better, though. Is he fully recovered from the hijacking yet? Will he ever? I try and think back to when we left him with Tigris. He had known I was innocent (as innocent as possible under the circumstances), but his memories told him differently. The only person who had really gotten through to him was Delly, and even she couldn't really convince him I was safe to be around. He still considered me a mutt. Unless he had improved drastically since then, he would never really be able to love me. Whereas Gale had loved me from the very beginning, no questions asked.

Less than a minute had passed as I thought this all out, and I am sprinting down the hallway after Gale. I can feel my damaged skin shredding into bits, and know I will regret it later when I am patched up again. I don't think I've ever run this fast. Not in the arena, or in District 8, or even in the Capitol. But knowing that if I don't catch up to him, I might never see Gale again is incomprehensible.

I skid to a stop, nearly bumping into Haymitch. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Did Gale leave yet? Where is he?"

"He got onto the hovercraft a minute ago. He's going to 2. They've got a job for him there, a fancy one." As he's talking, I catch a glimpse of said hovercraft through the window of the door. Pilots are ushering that last few people onto it and preparing to close up the ramp. Haymitch has barely finished speaking and I am running again, out the door, about to spring onto the ramp when a guard catches my arm.

"What do you think you're doing? The craft is full, and as far as I can tell you don't have a pass." He continues to close up the hovercraft.

"No! No, I need to speak to someone. Gale Hawthorne. Please? Tell him Katniss needs him."

He sighs, and unclips a small electronic device from his belt. He presses a button and says something into it, and I know it's because he recognizes my name. Just then I hear a voice broadcasting inside the hovercraft. It's smooth, ringing, and female. And obviously fake. "Gale Hawthorne, please report to Exit immediately. Gale Hawthorne to Exit. Thank you." When Gale walks down the ramp and onto the ground, he doesn't look happy to see me. In fact, his face is hard, filled with coldness and anger. The only flaw in this mask is his eyes, which are full of sadness."What?" he asks flatly. His voice is hard, too.

"Gale, please don't go. Stay. I don't want you to leave. I can't- I mean, I don't-"

"Katniss, please. You're making this hard enough as it is."

"No! No, Gale, you have to stay!" My voice is rising in panic as I try to think of a way to convince him to stay with me.

"Why? So that as soon as Peeta is recovered you can run off with him again and forget about me? It's going to happen anyway, Katniss. Why not sooner rather than later?" He's having a hard time holding it together. He's given up the pretense of being apathetic and angry completely, and turns away for a moment, as though he's checking to see that the craft is still there. But I see him wipe away a tear.

"Gale, you know it's not like that. Peeta's not-he's not coming back." I know this is true as soon as I say it. He'll never feel the same way again. And I need Gale. He's the only person I have left.

"Forget it, Katniss. Like I said, even if he doesn't recover you'll never get over him. There'll always be some part of you wishing it was him instead of me, and I don't want that. I-" I cut him off mid-sentence and kiss him. At that moment, I know that I've gotten over Peeta. If Gale doesn't believe me, I'll just have to show him.

"Katniss-"

"Shush. I do love you. Will you stay?"

Gale leans away but doesn't let go of me. He carefully regards me, taking in my pleading expression and watery eyes. A smile is playing at the corner of his mouth, and I know it's taking all of his control to keep himself calm.

"Fine. For now."

So, what do you think? Is it too sappy? Romantic and mushy? Or should I have more of that? Personally, I think it's a bit too chick-flick-y, but it would help to have your opinion. So, you know what that means. I'm not offended easily, and I lurrrrrve criticism! Unless your criticism is "You're a sucky writer." But I'll accept those, too. Anyway, I could leave it like this, cause it does kind of wrap things up. But since I'm a fair person, I should give happy endings to Peeta, and some other people. It'll be awhile before I update, so I'm hoping that a semi-ending will satisfy ya'll for now. Anywhoo, I'll add some more chapters ASAP (although that could be awhile). Overall, I don't think it's too bad for my first time, but you should tell me what ya think.

~Kristen

I'm listening to the person who reviewed my story (already...wow!) and editing out my author's notes. But I thought you should read this one...tee hee! I'm referring to the part where Gale's eyes are "full of sadness."

[A/N: I wanted so badly to describe his eyes as "puppy dog eyes." The kind that always look sad, no matter what mood you're in. They're so adorable. For example, Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean. Aren't his eyes so cute? But since I'm trying to stick to Collins' ideas as much as I can, that won't do. ]

And thanks for the review. I like it when I get compliments on my writing. :)