This fic is set 18 years after Mockingjay (4 years after the epilogue). This fic was originally posted in 2012 under the title "Daughter Like Father" but was edited recently.

Enjoy!

Two Strangers

Gale kept his eyes locked on the soft brown hair that was, of course, resembling a bird's nest on top of his son's head; the silky black hair of his oldest daughter the hung down her back loosely; and the flame red hair of his youngest daughter that was pulled into a side braid.

It had been years since he felt that familiar tug of pain in his chest, but he did in that moment. He blamed it on the fact he was back in the Capitol. After so many years of trying to run from his past – of pushing his feelings and inner demons away – they seemed so close to the surface now that he was back in this cursed city.

Almost as if his wife could sense his unease, her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, bringing him back to the present. That was one thing he loved about Penelope; she always knew what he was thinking, most times before he knew it himself.

He glanced away from his children, pulling his gaze towards the woman by his side. She was staring up at him, her forehead creased with worry. He knew what she was thinking in that moment. She was worried for him.

He moved forward, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead, trying to sooth away her worries. He shouldn't have been worried. The war was over. Panem was in a time of peace. People were happy. He was happy.

Still, walking the streets of the Capitol brought a chill over him. The last time he walked the streets, he had been fighting for his life. He doubted the sounds of mutts at his ankles would ever leave him. It was a lifetime ago, yet he could recall it all with perfect clarity.

The fear eating away at his chest. The panic settling in his stomach like a weight. The pods being set off. The screaming of his allies. The last look so many of his friends gave right before they died.

He tried to pull his mind away from those days he spent in the Capitol by capturing his wife's hand with his. He didn't want to think about Finnick's dying screams. He didn't want to think about his throat burning from the sheer volume of his screams, begging Katniss to murder him before he was taken. He didn't want to think about her look of betrayal when she realized what he did.

He didn't want to think about what he did.

He didn't want to think about her.

He was thankful for the distraction his daughter provided him. The girl with black hair spun around, her blue dress skirt twirling above her knees, her hair flying into the air. Her childish laugh bubbled out when she stumbled on her own two feet. Gale's instincts were still sharp, and he was able to catch the young girl before she fell. The girl turned her head to look and Gale and gave him a smile.

Her mother's smile. They both had cute little dimples that formed around the cheeks and her eyes sparking. While people claimed she looked identical to him, nobody disputed the fact that was Penelope's smile.

It was a smile that those back in District 2 loved. People down her street and at the market knew her for her smile. It was so bright that it could turn anyone's day around. And when she was in the hospitals, tending to the wounded, her patients appreciated her smile too. It was calming then. It let them know everything was going to be alright, even if that was a lie.

Her smile was what originally drew Gale to her. He couldn't stop thinking about her laugh that sounded like bells, or the way her voice sounded like honey. He would pass her everyday as they made their way to the market, and he could never get her off of his mind.

His son shook his head at his sister, clearly annoyed, and turned back to his book. The girl with the wild red hair was tucked into Penelope's side, her eyelids drooping. Despite it being early in the morning, they'd been travelling for days to get here on time. The poor girl was exhausted.

Masona, being twelve, was the oldest of his three children. Her personality shone as brightly as her mothers did. She reminded Gale of her in a lot of ways; she was just as compassionate and soft as her. She wanted to help people and take care of people.

For so many years, she was his life. While he had managed to battle his demons long before she came into his life, the moment he held her was the same moment he realized his life wasn't full of mistakes and disasters. How could something so small and so perfect be a mistake?

Ajax was more of a mix between Gale and Penelope. Ajax got the Seam grey eyes, brown hair, and even his height from his father. Once again, he was thankful that his son wasn't like him. He was just like his mother and older sister; sweet and compassionate and loving. The one aspect of his personality that he did get from Gale was his protectiveness and his stubbornness. He never backed down from anything, which was both a blessing and a curse. Gods, how was he nine already?

Daphne was only five, and a spitting image of her mother… the flame red hair, the warm brown eyes, the freckles splashed across her cheeks, the dimples on her cheeks. Out of the three children, she looked the most like Penelope, but she also acted the most like Gale. Her personality was like fire. She was protective and stubborn like her brother, but also she acted before she thoughts most times.

At that thought, Gale's heart grew heavy. Fire.

Prim.

Fire bombs. She died from fire bombs. His fire bombs.

His thoughts were drawn away from his family as the door to the mansion was opened, letting hushed voices drift in. His eyes snapped up. Whoever this was, it was going to be the first person he had seen since arriving in the Capitol.

His heart was racing in his chest. It had been years. Was he even ready to see anyone from his past? He had run for so long that he wasn't sure if he was actually capable of facing it anymore.

He didn't have an option at this point. He was there. There wasn't anywhere to run anymore. There wasn't any time.

A wave of relief rushed through him when he seen who it was. Annie Odair walked in, a young man standing beside her. Gale wanted to keep in contact with her – he really did – but it felt impossible. She was a reminder of his past – a reminder of the terrible things he lived through, a reminder of the things he did to survive.

There was no mistaking who the teenager was beside her. That was her son. Gale's mouth ran dry. That was Finnick's son.

He was a spitting image of his father. Well, from what Gale could remember. It was years ago that he last seen Finnick – it felt like a lifetime. It hurt him to think about the fact he couldn't quite remember what Finnick looked like anymore. All he really remembered was who he was; he could remember his strength, his determination, his friendship, and his sacrifice.

But seeing his son brought all those memories back. Despite not quite remembering what he looked like, Gale could've sworn that this teenager looked identical to him. From what Gale remembered, Finnick had blond hair, while his son's was rust-coloured instead of blonde. If he remembered correctly, then the two of them shared the same sea-green eyes.

Suddenly, his body was numb. He couldn't feel his fingertips and his mind was filled with so many thoughts that he couldn't begin to pick them apart. The last time he seen them, he was a different person. The last time they'd been together, it had been a different world.

"Gale." Annie's voice was surprised, like she hadn't actually expected to see him there. He understood; he was surprised that he showed up too. While Paylor never called meetings of all the former rebellion heroes, the current president was attempting to. Gale almost declined.

He should have declined.

"Hi. Annie." Gale stood up too quickly, his head suddenly spinning. He was grounded by the simple touch of Penelope's hand on his. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak again, he felt the life drain out of him.

Katniss.

She stood behind Annie and her son, her eyes wide and lips pressed tightly together. For the first time in nearly two decades, their eyes locked and his heart stopped.

He felt like a teenager in that moment. Not because she made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach – no, that had stopped long ago – but because she used to be his home. She used to be his everything. She used to hold his heart and soul in the palms of her hands.

His mouth went dry just being in the same room as her. He was terrified. She represented a whole different life to him. She was his world when he was a different person, when Panem was a different country, when their lives were fated to be too short.

Faintly, he absorbed the fact that she held the hand of a boy around Ajax's age, with brilliantly blonde hair. The man beside her held the hand of a young girl, around the age of Masona, who had the same dark hair as her mother.

Gale felt like his throat was closing up when he seen Peeta. The last time he spent any time with him, they were back here, in the Capitol. He was a different man back then, his mind still reeling from the Capitol's torture. Despite everything he went though, he was good. He couldn't deny that. Peeta had always been a good man.

But seeing him. Seeing them. It brought him back to those moments, running through the ruined streets of the Capitol. It brought him back to the fear that ate at his heart. It brought him back to all the pain and all the death and all the destruction.

They'd fallen apart – all three of them. He started a new life, while they began theirs together. He never attempted to reach out. (Neither did they, he reminded himself.) They'd been through so much together, yet they were strangers again. He knew parts of them that he never would know of anyone else, yet he didn't know who they were anymore.

It was strange. Being strangers, but knowing so much.

He knew Katniss' favourite colour and her first childhood memory. He remembered when she first learned how to swim and when she first shot down game when they started hunting together. He remembered the way her screams pieced the air when she screamed. He knew her better than he knew himself, at one point. Her deepest desires, her fears, her lies, her games.

He knew Peeta too. Not nearly as well as he knew Katniss, but they fought together. They survived together. He remembered the young boy who he bought bread from once. He remembered how his eyes sparkled every time he seen Katniss. He knew how dedicated he was to what he believed in. He remembered how his screams would turn his blood to ice and he knew how much hate he could muster with his eyes. He knew him when he was a child; he knew him when he was broken; he knew him when he was healing. Gale knew him.

They stood together, their children between them. It was a picture that could've destroyed him once. It was something he feared when he was a teenager; Katniss moving on and being happy with Peeta. He was terrified over the two of them ending up together, leaving him behind.

It was reality though. A reality that wasn't painful anymore. That was strange, too – not feeling any pain when he seen them together. It was in stark contrast to the absolute anguish that filled his chest when he watched them kiss, or hear their confessions of love. Now, he felt nothing.

Nothing except fear and pain from his old life. Nothing but surprise from seeing her again.

The air was ice around them. The tension was thicker than anything he had ever felt before. Despite them being strangers again, there was history here; history that could fill books; history that he wished would stay history.

Annie broke the silence. "Wick, let's go sit down." The teenager that stood beside her nodded his head and followed her to sit on the benches a few feet away from Gale. The whole time, he couldn't stop looking at Katniss.

He didn't know how to act. Should he greet her like a friend? They were friends once. Should they ignore each other, like they had been doing for most of their lives?

Peeta solved the problem for him. He stepped forward, his eyes locked on Gale's face. Without hesitation, he threw his arms around Gale's shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He let out an awkward chuckle that he hoped didn't sound forced, and returned the hug.

"It's good to see you."

Gale watched as Katniss pulled her gaze away from his and turned away. For an entirely different reason than twenty years ago, his heart gave a painful lurch as she walked away. He was disappointed she didn't want to say hi to him.

It wasn't like when they were teenagers in District 12; he wasn't disappointed because he was pining for her. Now, he wanted to mend things with her. He wanted to put their past in the past and move on. Like he said, they used to be friends. He wanted to get past all of this. He wanted to get back to that.

He knew why they were distant with each other. He knew why she didn't want to talk to him. But it hurt.

Later that night, he was back in a similar room to the one he had twenty years ago when he stayed in the same mansion. It was just as luxurious as it was all those years ago, but it was something Gale had grown used to over the years.

"I had fun playing with the other kids today," Ajax admitted, his glasses slipping down his nose. As soon as he spoke, Daphne jumped up from the floor.

"Me too!" She went chattering on about how nice a certain dark haired girl with Seam grey eyes was. Gale felt a strange feeling creeping along his spine. He never thought he would have seen the day where his children would be playing with Katniss and Peeta's.

As Daphne continued to talk, Masona turned to her father. Her lips was between her teeth as she leaned closer to him. "You know their parents?"

"I did. We were friends." The words felt heavy on his tongue.

She cocked her head to her side. "Were," she repeated. "You're not anymore." It wasn't a question. She was confident with her conclusion. Gale wasn't surprised at her insight. While her brother and sister might have missed the tension, it was clear she didn't.

"You're right. We haven't been friends in a long time."

"Who is she?"

He wasn't too sure how to say things to her. She knew of the rebellion and the role he played in it. She knew about the Mockingjay and the hope she inspired across a nation. School taught her, as did he. But was she ready to know about Katniss? Was she ready to learn about the girl behind the Mockingjay pin?

He knew who the Mockingjay was to her; she was a fearless woman, a warrior that fought for the good. She knew right from wrong and wasn't afraid to fight, no matter what the odds looked like. She was brave, and just, and invincible. To Masona, the Mockingjay was a story.

To Gale, she was a girl.

He knew the truth behind the symbol and the stories – he knew Katniss was terrified during the rebellion, and rightly so. She was rash with her actions and her words. She wasn't invincible, because he had seen her broken. She was human, just like the rest of them. She was just a girl. She was so young when she was forced to carry the rebellion on her shoulders.

While he thought, his daughter waited for an answer. After Gale couldn't come up with the right words, he sent her a wiry smile. "Her name is Katniss Mellark." Despite that being her name for years, it felt strange on his tongue. "The man with her – her husband – is Peeta."

"And you were friends?"

"She was my best friend." It was easy to admit that. It was the truth – one of the better truths from his childhood. "I was in love with her, once."

She didn't seem surprised by his words. If she was, she didn't show it. "What happened?"

"I made a mistake. She fell in love with Peeta – that was the man with her. I fell in love with your mother."

He glanced at Penelope, who was holding Daphne to her chest and joking with Ajax. He was sure she was listening to their conversation, even if she looked completely distracted with their children. He smiled softly at her.

"What kind of mistake?" she pushed.

Instantly, the regret of not volunteering for Peeta for the Games came to mind; his heat and frustration and confusion directed at the both of them after they returned home; his actions for redemption chilled him to the bone; and, finally, the image of the blazing fire inside the Capitol filled his mind. He knew he made plenty of mistakes as a teenager; mistakes that hurt her and damaged their relationship.

"Lots of them. Big ones." Gale sighed and wrestled with his decision of what to tell his daughter. "Everyone makes mistakes, Mas. It's something we do as people – it's something that can't be avoided. You'll even make some." She didn't look ashamed by that fact and he was glad. He hoped their open dialogue and conversations would remind her that it was okay to screw up. He hoped she felt comfortable coming to him to talk if she ever needed help. "Mistakes happen, but you should do everything you can to fix them."

Without missing a beat, she glanced up at him. "Did you?"

His mouth was dry as he replied. "No." He glanced down at her. "It's something I regret."

"Well…" She glanced away from him, her bottom lip between her teeth again. "You taught me that it's never to late to make things right. You taught me that it's never too late to apologize for something. Right?"

Gale was obligated to nod, even though he knew this situation was more complicated than that. He taught her that when it was about sharing toys and getting into small arguments between siblings. Accidentally killing the girl he loved's sister was more complicated than that.

"And you taught me that it's always okay to be the one to talk first, right? You told me it was good to approach people – not to wait for someone to come say hi to me." He taught her that on her first day of school; he remembered. She was so worried about making friends that year.

"I did."

"Well, maybe that's what you should do? You shouldn't be afraid to try, right?" Her voice was timid, like she wasn't too sure of it herself.

Her words struck him in the chest. It felt like he couldn't breathe in that moment, listening to her speak. There was something about the simplicity of being a child that he missed. If being a father taught him one thing, it was that children always seemed to have a solution – one that he often overlooked.

Maybe he could teach them about redemption and forgiveness before they got caught in their own webs. Maybe, just maybe, he could prevent them from making the same mistake he did; letting jealousy cloud his mind and letting his loved ones slip away.

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You're right."

Even if Katniss still wanted nothing to do with him, the possibility of no longer being strangers with her once again was like paradise. They'd been best friends before, even if that was a lifetime ago. He missed that.

Being surrounded by family; with the demons in his mind locked away; and being hopeful for the future – that was a feeling Gale didn't expect. After all, he was in the Capitol – a place from his nightmares. He was surrounded by people from his past life – a life he wasn't proud of.

Yet, he had hope.

This one-shot was first posted on May 5, 2012. It was edited on February 13, 2019.

One thing I hope I portrayed with this fic is the trauma Gale carries with him from his experiences as a teenager. Of course, he's lived a happy life, but there are dark moments within that.

I also hope I portrayed the fact that Katniss and Peeta have found peace, similar to what we seen in the epilogue. I tried to write both of them as having found peace with the past and moving towards forgiveness with Gale.

I didn't write this with the goals of achieving that forgiveness between everyone, and I really didn't want to give the impression that everyone just moved on after everything. This is not a fix-it fic. But I wanted to show the potential for forgiveness and healing, at least from Gale's perspective. I hope that came off in this fic :)

Thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated!