Let's Give It a Shot

A/N: This story, originally called "The Dangers of Getting Shots" was written by the brilliant author Swishy Willow Wand. She has graciously entrusted me with her baby to make sure it gets finished. (I want to recognize and thank Jeeno, creator of the THG Fic Adoption program on Tumblr, who made this all possible.) I've tweaked Swishy's original chapter and added my own spin. It will ultimately include several more chapters. Thanks to my betas, RoryFaller and Belle453. You ladies are in inspiration.

Disclaimer: I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

Chapter One: Immune

Immunization: the process by which an individual's immune system becomes fortified against an agent.

"I hate getting shots," a little voice whines petulantly near his hip. Posy Hawthorne glares up at him, the Posy Pout fully engaged.

Gale laughs. "Shots aren't all that bad," he tells her, tugging gently on her dark ponytail. He doesn't like shots either. Gale hates them, actually; he doesn't think it's healthy to poke things into his body that don't belong, thank you very much. But District 13 requires different shots for every age bracket and now that Posy is six, she's due for her booster shots.

It's been one year since the war ended, but his mother hasn't gotten approved to leave the underground world yet. Gale thinks she might secretly be scared to return to District 12 after seeing it burn, and he doesn't blame her. However, Gale's younger siblings VERY much want to leave the underground bunker. At ages 14 and 12, Rory and Vick aren't any happier about their mother's decision than Posy. So until Hazelle decides to leave, they all must abide by the rules.

Which, at the moment, means shots for the gray-eyed girl at his side, looking up at him with so much trust that it breaks his heart — he remembers someone else who trusted him that much, he remembers what he did to her, he remembers—

"Really?" Posy tugs his hand, demanding his attention once more. He is pulled from his dark memories by her hopeful smile and he grins down at her, swinging the little hand that tightly clings to his. He squats down, looking into her earnest eyes.

"Maybe for these District 13 babies," he tells her, rolling his eyes playfully, "but you're from District 12, Pose. You're tough." The little girl beams.

"I'm tough," she repeats stubbornly. He laughs again; the only time he doesn't hate himself is when he's with her and the rest of his family, too distracted that his brothers and sister will never face another Reaping or be forced to work in the mines or hunt illegally or die of starvation to truly loathe himself like he should. He wants to wrap himself up in them forever.

He stands back up and pulls her toward the medical wing allocated for things like this, routine visits that have no sense of urgency. The receptionist reclines at her desk, idly flipping through a Capitol fashion magazine. Her shiny nametag bears the name Fawn. He can tell she's a native, her mousy brown hair and thin skin give her away instantly, but she flushes when she looks up at him and he fidgets uncomfortably. He remembers looks like that from his slag heap days; he's been getting those a lot lately, ever since the end of the war declared him some kind of hero. He's immune to those feelings, because love is a complication he just doesn't need right now. "Hi, there," Fawn looks up at him with big, brown eyes reminiscent of her animal kingdom namesake. "Can I help you?"

"Er…we're here for Posy Hawthorne's appointment," he mumbles, not looking at her directly. Fawn sits straight and fluffs her hair casually, trying to catch his eyes, huffing after a moment when she realizes he's not interested. She thumbs through a thick black book on her desk filled with names and times and procedures.

"Second room on the left," Fawn tells him haughtily, pointing down the hallway. Posy sticks her tongue out at her. She has definitely been spending too much time with Vick.

Gale tugs Posy down the hallway into a sterile, white room that makes him uncomfortable. He wrinkles his nose at the antiseptic smell and lifts the girl onto the examination table. Her short legs dangle down and she kicks them out in front of her before looking at him. Posy has a dangerous look in her eyes, the one that she gets when she doesn't want to go to sleep at her bedtime.

"I don't think I need shots," Posy announces abruptly, giving Gale the most serious look a six year old can muster before jumping off the bed and walking to the door. He snorts and swoops her up—and goodness, she's almost getting too heavy to pick up much anymore. Gale thinks it's a wonderful problem for a girl from the Seam to have.

"Oh no, you don't," he tells her firmly, plopping her back up on the table and tickling her sides as the paper crinkles beneath her from her wiggling. Posy squeals like she always does, so loud it makes his ears hurt sometimes, and he doesn't know that the door has opened until it shuts loudly. Gale turns around.

A pretty blonde woman holds a thin folder, peering at the name as if for the first time. "Hawthorne?" she reads incredulously, before looking up quickly—her eyes dart to Posy and then swiftly lock on him. Her blue eyes flash with recognition.

"Undersee?" Gale tries to remember the last time he saw Madge Undersee; it was in District 12, the night of the bombing. The tenuous truce they had formed while coaching Peeta and Katniss for the Quarter Quell dissolved as soon as the train left the station. They barely acknowledged each other, except for the night they fled to the Meadow with the rest of District 12. He hasn't thought of her much since then.

The corners of her mouth curve down in a slight frown. "Hawthorne," she repeats, this time a cool acknowledgement. Her gaze switches to Posy and a smile lights up her face. "You must be Posy," she says brightly, walking over to the wide eyed girl on the table.

The little girl looks suspicious, and Gale's not sure if he should be proud or embarrassed. "Who're you?"

She smiles. "I'm Madge. I'm from District 12, just like you!" Posy perks up at this and Madge lights up again. "Are you ready to get your shots?"

Posy's eyebrows furrow. "I'm tough," she tells her. Madge snorts, rolling her eyes at Gale.

"Family trait, I guess," she mutters. He doesn't say anything, too surprised by her sudden appearance to snipe back. He takes in her worn gray dress, a standard issue number that has a frayed hem and a little tear in one of the pockets, the long blonde hair that she wears in a tight bun, except for a few stubborn strands that have escaped. She looks tired.

"What are you doing here," he asks after a long moment. Posy looks bored and confused that the attention is no longer on her.

Madge gives him a wry look. "Giving your sister a booster shot," she answers him drily, walking over to a white cabinet and pulling out supplies.

He looks at her doubtfully. "They let just anybody do that?" Even with her back to him he can sense her annoyance at his question—her shoulders stiffen and the muscles in her neck twitch slightly. He sees one of her hands curl into a fist. He grins a little; different setting, different dress, same old Madge Undersee. He was always able to get her hackles up, something he took distinct pride in back in the day.

She continues to organize her supplies, not even turning around. "I've been training for two years, Hawthorne," Gale gets the feeling there's a ruder name she would be calling him if his baby sister wasn't here. "I'm a registered nurse now and I am perfectly able to give shots."

Gale is mildly impressed with the nurse's moxy, but he hides it with a smirk.

Posy interrupts, clearly ready to be the focus again. "I don't need a shot," she informs Madge determinedly. Madge turns around and grins at the little girl; Gale doesn't think he's ever seen Madge look like that. Back in 12 she was always cautious and quiet, usually oblivious to his presence and immune to his charms. The only emotion Madge ever showed him was anger at his deliberate provocation. In the last two minutes, he's seen the blonde smile more than she did the entire time he knew her in District 12; he notices how much she's grown up, how confident she seems.

"Are you sure?" Her fingers slip into her right pocket and pull out a purple lollipop. Posy's eyes widen with longing; candy was an unheard of luxury in the Seam, and not exactly a huge commodity in the ever practical District 13. Instinctively, Posy's little hand reaches out, but Madge smoothly pushes the treat back in her pocket. "Sorry, Posy, I can only give candy to little girls who get shots. Oh well." The exaggerated disappointment on Madge's face is comical. She picks up her folder and walks towards the door.

"Wait!" Madge stops and turns around. Posy pokes her bottom lip out, and for a moment looks far too precious to be related to Gale. "I guess I can get a shot."

Madge smiles at her sweetly, and Gale is fascinated—the townie just set a snare, as sure as he did every day in the woods in 12, and Posy walked right into it without even noticing. And six year olds are trickier than rabbits.

"Great!" Madge's enthusiasm is infectious, and Posy beams back at her. Madge walks back over to the counter, brushing by Gale. The room is small and Gale is struck by how delicate she is, how much smaller she is compared to Katniss and his mother. For the first time in a long time, he feels awkward and oafish.

Gale also observes that Madge smells like clean laundry, reminding him of home before the war. If it had ever occurred to him to think of it, he probably would have assumed she smelled like fancy perfume or something else utterly unnatural. It unsettles him that this woman smells like home, even more so when he realizes he's trying to catch a whiff when she walks by him again.

Madge stands directly in front of Posy, giving his little sister a very serious look. They stare at each other for a moment, frightened gray eyes locked on serious blue ones, and Posy looks quite apprehensive now that Madge has the syringe in her gloved hands. Posy gives Gale a panicked look. "I don't want a shot," she repeats, but this time her lip trembles dangerously. Oh, no. Gale hates crying, has absolutely no idea what to do with it, and is saved the trouble when Madge reaches out her free hand and squeezes Posy's.

"You just have to be brave, Posy," Madge tells her very seriously. "When you're brave you can do anything, even if it hurts a little." The nurse's blue eyes glance back at Gale, and he's frustrated that she's caught him staring; if she thinks anything of it, she doesn't give it away. She looks back at his sister.

"Gale will be right here to hold your hand, and it will be over before you know it!" Gale nods encouragingly, and suddenly he's on Team Undersee, bizarre twist of fate he never saw coming. He's not even sure she's ever used his first name before until now.

And so Posy, ever a Hawthorne, grips her brother's massive hand with all her six-year-old might and squeezes her eyes tightly closed, not making a sound as Madge quietly goes about her work. Gale can't help but be impressed at the ease with which she works; it's clear she's been doing this for a while now. He takes Madge in for a moment — her eyes are the same bright blue as they were staring at him from her back door, her hair a darker blonde since she's been hidden from the sun for so long. She's lost some of the excess weight she had from so many full meals at the Mayor's house, but she still has curves in all the appropriate places. She is pale except for the slight pink in her cheeks and the splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her white teeth worry her bottom lip as she concentrates on Posy, brow slightly furrowed. She's just as uncomfortably pretty as ever, not that he will ever admit to noticing.

She finishes, squeezing Posy's knee. "All done," she says warmly, and Posy's gray eyes flicker back open to watch Madge put a bandage across her tiny bicep. "Not so bad, huh?"

Posy's smile is more like a grimace, but she shakes her head. "I'm tough," she says once again, and Madge laughs.

"Yes you are!" She pulls the lollipop back out from the pocket with the small tear, and Posy's eyes widen eagerly. Her hand shoots out to grab it, and then freezes in midair. She looks at Gale cautiously.

"Can I have it?" She knows without thinking that he doesn't like free things, doesn't like gifts or charity. Madge frowns slightly, and Gale reaches out to tug his sister's dark ponytail again.

"I reckon you earned it," he says with a grin; Posy snatches the candy and quickly unwraps it, stuffing it into her mouth as if Gale will change his mind if she takes too long. She is instantly lost to a sugary world, sucking happily, no longer aware that Gale and Madge even exist.

And so the two adults stare at each other for a moment, even though there is no longer an excuse to stay in the room. For a second the appraising look she gives him reminds him of the receptionist outside, only this one is far less unwelcome. Awkwardness fills the air and Madge's eyes narrow at him. "I didn't know you were still in 13," she tells him, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Keeping tabs on me, Undersee?" Gale isn't sure where the teasing, flirtatious tone comes from, but it makes her blush a little and he decides he might have to use it with her more often. He shrugs. "My family still lives down here, and I'm stationed here for a while." He doesn't tell her that this posting, while cushy, is unwelcomed. Gale would rather be in battle so he doesn't have time to think about what has happened, what he's done. He literally hadn't taken a day off since the war ended and the military doctor thinks he might be suffering from some kind of post traumatic stress, or some crap like that.

She nods and looks at him for a moment longer, then stands up. "Well, I should—" she grabs Posy's file and gestures toward the door, looking unsure of herself for a moment. Gale wonders if she's as confused by their interaction as he is; he definitely doesn't remember ever being remotely interested in Madge Undersee back when they were just kids. He's not sure the same can still be said.

The soldier stands up to his full height and he is once again struck by how tiny Madge is in comparison to his own muscular, 6 foot, 3 inch frame . Posy follows him, jumping off the table and looking up at him expectantly. The lollipop is still in her mouth and her lips are turning purple; he can't help but laugh at her, and she giggles too. He grabs her sticky hand and looks back at Madge, who is staring at their clasped hands with an uncharacteristically wistful look on her face that she immediately shakes off as soon as she sees that he's looking. She bends down until she is on Posy's level.

"It was nice to meet you, Posy," she says, her smile full and pretty. Posy practically melts; he can tell that she idolizes the blonde already. She gives her a toothy purple grin and a hug.

Madge stands back up and smoothes her worn gray dress, looking back up at Gale. "Hawthorne," she says, nodding at him before turning and walking to the door.

He calls her back without thinking, "Undersee?" She turns slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. He smirks. "Pretty dress."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs at him, but he doesn't think he's imagining the way she blushes or the small smile on her face as she walks out the door without another word. Posy looks up at him curiously, annoyingly observant for such a small girl. He swings her little hand between them and pulls her to the door.

"Let's go home, Pose."

He can't help but wonder as they head out of the small room, towards Fawn, the flirty receptionist and out of the hospital wing, if he will see Madge Undersee again.

He kind of hopes so.

Madge sighs as she hands the file to Fawn for filing eventually—office work, such as filing patient folders, is nowhere near as high on Fawn's priority list as manicuring her dagger-like nails. And flirting with handsome visitors to the office, how could Madge forget that? Fawn's days at the clinic were numbered, but the reception desk was a like a revolving door. Madge doesn't bother to get attached to the receptionists, or much of anyone else for that matter. She is alone and she is better off that way, right?

The two very dissimilar women watch the soldier and his sister walk through the waiting room, hand in hand. Posy is still gleefully sucking on the candy from Madge, yet she manages to keep up a steady stream of conversation. Gale's body language is relaxed and he sports a beatific smile. Madge smiles at the obvious bond between the soldier and the little girl, Fawn drools because his uniform accented his "nice ass" as Fawn would say. Madge can read Fawn like a book and she snickers to herself, but she can't say that Fawn is wrong: he does have a very fine butt and his chest isn't too shabby either.

Back in 12, Madge never paid Gale much attention, because it was as if they were from two different worlds. Aside from Katniss and the strawberries, Madge and Gale had little interaction. Madge prided herself with the knowledge that she was one of the few women in the District who was immune to the handsome hunter's charms. He was as arrogant as he was handsome back then, and she just couldn't be bothered. I shouldn't be bothered now, she thinks.

When Posy sees Madge at the desk, she suddenly runs over to her, dragging her brother behind her. "Miss Madge, I have a very important question for you," Posy says as she lets go of Gale's hand and positions herself directly in front of Madge. "Gale says I gotta get another shot next year, but I say you're so good I don't ever need another one," Posy says. Madge gently kneels down to Posy's level and shakes her head. "I'm afraid Gale's right, Posy," she whispers.

The child looks thoughtful, her enthusiasm momentarily dampened. "Well, I still don't wanna, but I will if you give it to me. Deal?" Posy solemnly states, sticking out her very sticky hand for Madge to shake. "Deal," Madge gravely intones. Posy's smile returns and it is infectious. Madge knows she hasn't smiled this much in a very long time and it feels good.

Meanwhile, Fawn has relaunched her campaign of flirtation with Gale, who momentarily looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an armored tank. Gale somehow manages to extricate himself from Fawn, whose parting shots are as unsuccessful as her initial salvo. "Well, we had better get going, Posy," Gale says, desperately eyeing the door.

"Thank you again, Miss Madge. This is the bestest lolly EVER," Posy says. She enthusiastic hugs Madge yet again, this time leaving a sticky purple spot on her the front of the thin, gray dress, and even stickier purple handprints on the back. Madge didn't know if it was her bedside manner or the candy, but Posy is leaving happier than she was when she came in. Madge decides that needing to wash her uniform tonight is worth it. Madge is happier, too, but she can't put her finger on just why.

Posy whispers in her ear, "Me and Gale think you're way prettier than that lady." Madge is momentarily stunned—Gale Hawthorne said something nice about me? She nervously looks up at Gale, who offers her a hand to help her up from her kneeling position. Madge observes how nicely her small hand fits in his large one and how gently he helps her up. She gives him a tentative smile, which he returns with equal caution before he beats a hasty retreat with Posy.

"Well, he looks like a good father, even if he is full of himself," snorts Fawn, still smarting from Gale's immunity to her charms. "Cocky bastard," she mumbles.

Madge doesn't bother to correct Fawn regarding Posy and Gale's relationship, but she needs to comment on the last part of the rejected receptionist's observation.

"I used to think so too, but not anymore," Madge says quietly.

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