Heythere! (:

SO! This is my Hunger Games oneshot I said I would write: I'm really sorry if it sucks or whatever. I had this idea of Gale coming back to District 12 for a visit home and he'd see Katniss and Peeta, and I started to write it, and I thought it was going great, but I've been writing this non-stop for like, three hours now, and it still might suck, so sorry about that.

So, lemme just give you a little info before the story:

Gale's coming back for a visit home. This takes place about 12 years after Mockingjay, but before the Mockingjay epilogue. (Cause Katniss has a daughter and son in the epilogue, here she only has a daughter and the son's on the way)

I'm a HEUGE Gale fangirl (he's my favorite character, except for Mockingjay. He turned all sadistic and I'm like, Okay, you're sucking big time here.) so I decided to write this!

ANYWAY! Hope you like, read on, please! (:

You're sitting by the window, looking out at the scenery rushing by while the train moves quickly along.

Your mom's been bugging you for God knows how long to come and visit, and now … you're finally coming home.

But you know it's not home, because home isn't home without her.

And though she'll be there, she's not there. Not really.

You think about the last time you saw her: her in her Mockingjay suit, so normal on the outside but broken inwardly. She's not looking up at you, and the question you know but don't want to answer eventually makes its way out of her lips. "Was it your bomb?"

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

It's true. She never said anything back. All you did was touch her cheek, and tell her to shoot straight. Because that's all you could say.

Because though you both aren't sure if it was your bomb, you promised her that you'd keep her family safe but you'll never be able to remove that image of Prim being blown to bits from your memory. You'll never be able to take back the fact that no matter even if it wasn't your bomb; every bomb that was used was technically yours—because you had a hand in everything.

You had a hand in killing the one person the girl you loved, loved most.

And despite your inseparability, you know she'll never see the boy from the woods with the snares again. She'll just see a murderer. The one who murdered her dear, sweet sister.

And that's the reason why you left to District 2, isn't it? To prevent the looks you'd get from her. The look that didn't say trust, friendship, love. The look that now said disappointment, anger, hatred. And though you survived a war, you just know you can't take that look from the girl who meant—means the most to you.

You couldn't help it. You had to help out. You wanted to rebel for the longest time: to guarantee a better future. You were tired of being slaves to the Capitol. They took so much from you. You had to rebel. To take back what was rightfully yours.

They took away your Catnip. Their stupid Games had to put your Catnip in the arena and into the arms of another man who loved her like you did—do. Their stupid Games had to take away your chance. Because it's not the fact that they love each other that makes you angry: but the fact that that would've been you.

If it weren't for the Games, she would've realized it. She would've realized that you loved her and that she loved you back. You knew she loved you, even if she didn't know, but eventually, she would realize that. You would get together—it was just a known fact. Until he came along.

It was hard to hate him, but you did. Because not only did the Capitol force her into the Games, they forced her to "love" him too. And though you knew it was just an act, you weren't stupid: eventually, the acting stopped.

It was obvious: the way she was after the hijacking. She was hysterical; she had a complete meltdown because the boy who loved her forgot and tried to kill her. But you were still there. You weren't planning on leaving her side. You weren't going to leave her alone.

But then again, you weren't planning on killing her sister.

You shake your head, as if this would help erase these thoughts. And you feel the train stop, look out the window and see it: District 12. Home.

You walk out to the platform, and see your family: Mom, Rory, Vick, and little Posy who decided to grow up into a lady. You give them an awkward hug and you're showered with comments.

"You're finally home," your mom smiles.

"Yeah," You nod.

You try to hide the pain in seeing this place again: despite living here for the majority of your life, you can't help but feel like you don't belong. But your mother knows. This woman who knew you from the very beginning knew how much you loved her and the pain it's giving you to be in the place that reminds you of her. So she grips your shoulder gently, silently saying, It's alright. I'm here. We'll face it together. And you sigh, and walk onwards.

It was a good few days. You specified early on that your boss only gave you a few days off, which you spent the majority of with them. You didn't do much: just catch up with the family, go into town, nothing big. The odd person would come up to you and strike up a conversation to which you would listen apathetically then make an excuse to leave. You noticed a lot of staring and talking between the women, which wasn't unusual (you're not too bad to look at after all) but it seemed unusual now, because you wouldn't just hear your name. Her name would pop up right there as well. So you just walked by faster, ignoring them.

You decide to go hunting the last day of your break. You miss the smell of the woods and the crunch of branches being stepped on. So early on, you wake up and sneak out of the house and into the forest. And for once, a faint smile graces your face.

You set up snares around your previous spots, and sure enough, after a few hours, your haul is quite good. A few squirrels and a rabbit. You check your last snare and there's another squirrel. You collect it and pool your haul together. You hear a twig snap behind you and before another twig snaps, you've got an arrow pointed straight at them.

"Whoa, whoa, relax," he says, "Sorry, I forget you're a hunter."

You relax your arrow, but your grip tightens on your bow as you see the blue-eyed blond in front of you. "It's alright." You reply gruffly.

"I heard around the town that you were back … and I wanted to catch you before you left." He shrugs, "I knew this'd be the place you'd have to come before you leave."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to catch me before I left? We're not friends." You say.

"But you're friends with Katniss."

Peeta's in the kitchen right now; and you wonder what you're doing here. You could've easily declined when he offered, but for some reason, you're sitting in a chair in his house, feeling uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, she's not here," Peeta sets a plate of frosted cookies on the table in front of you, "She's out at the bakery we opened."

You can't help but recoil at the we, but you mask it by reaching for a cookie and taking a bite.

"So, how are you, Gale?" Peeta asks nonchalantly, his tone friendly. Which is odd to you, considering the fact that you aren't exactly friends.

"Cut to the chase," You say sharply, "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why am I here?" You repeat, "Why did you invite me here?"

He pauses and a silence fills the room. You sit there, trying to find the answer: why did he invite you? You never spoke of your hatred of the boy who stole her heart, but it went without saying that you had a sort of rivalry.

"Like I said," He takes a bite out of a cookie, "You're friends with Katniss."

Your expression must indicate your confusion, which he takes as a cue to elaborate.

"We're happy: happily married with a daughter and a son on the way in 7 months," He says.

Your jaw clenches and you try to hide the fact that your fist is readying itself to meet his jaw at the boasting of his perfect life with the girl that was once yours.

"But," he continues, "It's not enough."

Once again, he manages to confuse you.

"She misses you," He states coolly.

"No," you reply, "She doesn't."

"Yes, she does. She loved you, and I'm sure she still does." The blue meets the silver and you know he's telling the truth.

"She loves me too," He says, "I know it. But I knew: before the Games, she loved you."

You're silent now, your jaw and fist relaxed, maintaining your poker-face, but shrinking at the past tense of his sentence.

"I've loved her ever since I was five, and I knew you loved her too. Later on, she fell in love with me but … it didn't compare to you."

"How does that explain why I'm here?"

"I invited you because no matter how happy she is with one of us, she'll only be truly happy with both of us."

Everything's silent once more, but he breaks it.

He stares at you. "You loved her—aside from that, you were best friends. You don't forget someone who meant that much to you that easily."

"We love each other: I've tried and will keep on trying to give her everything she wants and needs, but I can't give her you." He adds, "It's not too late to be friends with her."

As if it wasn't hard enough to hate him before, he's offering you what you've wanted for so long: her.

You're about to nod, but your head's back from the clouds. "You're wrong: it's too late."

"No, it's never—"

"I KILLED HER SISTER!"

This stops him, and you continue as he looks down solemnly.

"I'm not Gale to her anymore. I'm Prim's killer. She'll see me as that, nothing more."

He's about to reply, when the door opens and a little girl runs in.

"Daddy!" She runs and hugs the blond tightly. "I got to frost the cakes! Who's that?"

"That's your Uncle Gale … Mommy's friend." He answers.

The girl that resembles her so much gives you a hug; and you hold her tightly, feeling guilty about how you killed someone as precious as this. "My name's Rose."

"Nice to meet you, Rose," You smile, masking the pain at the name of the girl you killed being brought up.

She pulls away and runs outside. Her bright, high voice gets louder as she nears the door, saying, "Look! It's Uncle Gale!"

And you hold your breath as you see her for the first time in years. She's beautiful, as usual, but it's not Catnip.

Catnip would've had her hair tied back into her signature plait down her back, smiling at you. But this woman—this stranger: her hair's been allowed to flow freely down her shoulders, framing the face that's familiar but different, staring at you with that look. The look you wanted to prevent from getting by fleeing to District 2.

Your eyes are locked together, yours apologizing while hers are unreadable.

"Hi," She gulps.

"Hi, Catni…ss." You maintain a straight face.

And you look at her, wanting to cry because of everything. Though the years have passed, you can't get over it. You can't get over her. You don't know why, but you just can't. Probably because no one really knew you except for her. Probably because she was yours, and you were hers, and anything else was unthinkable. You just don't know.

But you're sure of one thing: You haven't shed a tear only because you can't. You're just too numb to cry, and that may be the saddest thing of all.

The next day, you get up early and pack your bags. Everyone's still asleep, but you make your way into the kitchen to drink some tea.

"You're up," You say to your mother, who's drinking some tea as well.

"Mm-hmm," She nods, "I heard you so I made you a mug too."

You sit in front of her, sipping your tea.

"What happened yesterday?" She asks after a long pause, "I know you saw her, Gale."

You don't know how to reply. It went like you thought it would: awkwardly. It didn't consist of her going back into your arms, proclaiming her love for you; but then again, it didn't consist of her slapping you in the face.

"Okay," You take another sip, "It went … okay."

"Gale, I know you still love her. I'm your mother, I know everything about you." She looks at you, as if she expects you to burst into tears, "Tell me."

"I love her," You say, because really, there's nothing else to say, "And that's it."

She sighs in defeat, because like she said, she knows everything about you. She knows how stubborn you are. And she knows how much you love her, and how you're going to keep everything bottled inside.

She knows that you've hurt everyone too much already, so you're just going to keep everything inside to keep from hurting anyone else. Because the only person hurting now is you, and you deserve it. You want the pain, because other than that, numbness is all you feel, and you'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

You drain your mug, and stand up. "I'm going to leave now."

"Aren't you going to wait for everyone to wake up?"

"No, I have to get back early."

"Alright," She stands up, "Don't be a stranger."

You nod, and pick up your bag. She gives you a tight hug. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

And you're out of the house, walking quickly to the platform, but you see it. You're a few feet behind, out of sight; but you see it. You see Rose run out and Peeta walk out but come back for a kiss from her. And you can't help but imagine.

You imagine your life without the Games: it would be Peeta looking at you getting a kiss from her; it would be your daughter running out of the house; it would be you instead of Peeta.

But it's not, so once he's gone, you walk onwards, but you have to. So you do it. You knock on the door and see her expression at being caught off-guard.

"H-Hi," She blinks.

"Hi," You say. "Can I just come in for a minute?"

She moves to one side so you can come inside, where you sit down at the chair you sat yesterday and she sits across from you, playing with a strand of hair uneasily.

"I'm leaving today … and I just wanted to say bye." You sigh, trying to find the right words, which is strange since you never had to worry what you had to say with her.

"Oh … okay."

"So … bye." You nod and stand up, making your way to the door.

"I don't blame you," She whispers, and you look at her. "I miss you."

You try to say "I miss you too" but it doesn't happen, so you just nod your assent.

"I loved you, you know that, right?" She says softly.

You turn back, and hug her, then kiss the top of her head. "I love you, Catnip."

She nods, and you leave, not looking back. Because you need to look forward.

You need to stop holding on to that girl you saw in the woods all those years ago because she died in the Games. But you steal one glance back at her, because that's just how you'll forever see her. Because she'll never be Katniss, she'll always be Catnip.

And as you see her look at you with a smile, you can almost see the girl you fell in love with in her, and it's almost like the past years never happened. It's almost like you were back in the woods, asking her to run away with you. But she shuts the door, and the illusion is over. And the pain is lessened, and the numbness is gone, but you're fine. You'll survive. You always do.

Did that suck? Or did it rock your socks off?
Lemme know in the reviews, k?

Also, if you're Team Gale, lemme know so I can fangirl with you. (;

*OH! Also, about We Don't Get Fairytales, it's on a mini-hiatus right now, cause I've got tons of school projects right now. I'll update in a few weeks, be patient! (: *

loveyouguys;
-S