note:
AU where Gale comes back and visits Katniss while she's still very depressed in 12, post mockingjay. Otherwise very canon, you'll see later.

'Cause I don't stand a chance in these four walls.
And he don't recognize me anymore.
Burned out flames should never re-ignite.
But I thought you might…

Ch. 1
Burned Out

I don't know how long it's been since I've returned to twelve, or how long it's been since I haven't left this chair. I haven't bothered counting the days. I awoke early this morning, before the sun had risen. The room was filled with the shadows of pre-dawn, the flames in the fireplace had long burned out, and Greasy Sae hadn't arrived yet. She usually waited until the sun was well into the sky to return, lighting the fire and fixing breakfast for me. While waiting for her I stare into the darkness, and eventually out the window, where the sun made it's slow ascent into the morning. The sky lights up with the special orange-ish pink Peeta once confessed he had trouble capturing in his paintings. I tear my eyes away from the window before reminders of him can dig up memories. Memories that, at their worst, can leave me gasping for air. I turn my focus to the hearth, trying to conjure up imaginary flames.

Some time later, the front door opens, and three sets of footsteps make their way into my house. There's Greasy Sae, whose tread is light and steady, and her granddaughter, whose feet take smaller, quicker steps to keep up. Following them is a pair of boots, making somewhat more noise in their dull thuds than the other two. At the sound of them, I feel my heart takes off, and I wonder if it really could be. Wonder if he had really returned from the capital. I consider briefly if I should get up, but quickly rule it out. I feel as though I should get out of the chair for myself before anybody else. How long have I gone without bathing? I would feel embarrassed, but I can't muster up the feeling from anywhere. I wait for them to come to me.

My eyes widen, shocked that it isn't the blonde and somewhat disheveled boy I had been expecting. Instead Gale, tall, thin, but healthily filled out stands before me. My throat constricts at the sight of him, but my eyes refuse to tear away. I almost convince myself he's a hallucination, a product of my damaged mind. I catch Sae exchanges a knowing glance with him, and my wishful thinking theory is proved wrong. I should have known it was Gale, with his light tread that somehow stays muted out of the forest and with heavy boots on, even on the wood floors. But why would he come back? We haven't spoken since I assassinated Coin, and our friendship had been long deteriorating beforehand. A long list of transgressions between us starts to form in my head. Coin, Peeta, Prim…

Prim. At the thought of her, tears threaten to trickle from my eyes, but I blink a few times, holding them back. All of them are looking at me, evaluating my reaction. The only feeling I have to offer is irritation. Especially at Gale, who has this almost pitied look on his face. I slowly leverage myself out of the chair with shaky arms, the shawl previously wrapping me falling to the floor. This feels like feat, and I continue my roll of progress by deliberately walking around them, and upstairs, to my bedroom. I gently shut the door behind myself before standing, frozen, letting the tears that were brimming run down my cheeks. Resisting the urge to curl up into a ball, I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I let it run until the room is filled with steam before I climb in. I scrub myself raw before I sit down, silently crying, letting the water run cold. A small seed of anger blossoms in this time, at Gale for daring show up, and at Greasy Sae for letting him. I let it grow, and sit under the cold rain until I'm shivering, only getting out because there's a loud rapping on the door. I wrap a towel around myself and open the door, to see Greasy Sae standing there with her granddaughter, whose eyes are focused on something far off.

"I'm sorry Katniss." she murmurs, indicating he's still here. Still in the house where he could hear us talking. "I didn't think I could turn him away." She does look apologetic, like she truly is concerned about how this could affect my mental health. I nod, accepting her apology, and shut the door. The way Gale had looked at me earlier feel pathetic, like I was a sick animal. I guess I looked the part. My hair, some new from regrowth, some old and damaged, had formed thick knots, and I'm sure I didn't smell the best before the shower. My patchwork skin was presumably grimey, and I had been wearing the same clothes that I'd left in. Gale had probably noticed. I take my time brushing out my hair and rubbing fancy lotions from my days as a victor that needed prepping onto my tender skin. Finally, I pick out a simple outfit, pants and a sweater, before heading back downstairs. In the kitchen, Sae is cleaning up the mess from preparing the two plates of eggs and toast on the table. Gale sits at one of them.

I tentatively lower myself into the chair across from him, carefully inspecting the food instead of meeting his gaze. His grey seam eyes try their hardest to meet my own, but I refuse to let them. Even so, the anger I felt before is wilting, as I have nothing to feed it. Nothing is left in me, nothing of meaning, anyhow. I am just a body with memories. Memories of what seems to be a lifetime crammed into a couple years. Memories of death, loss, war. They consume every bit of my being, rendering me useless. I begin to pick at the food, but Gale doesn't touch it. I can feel him staring at me still, and an echo of irritation stirs up inside me.

"Hey, Catnip." Is all he mumbles when he finally speaks. I snap my eyes up to meet his. I should be angry that he dares call me that after months of no contact. After all, I thought he was done with me. Instead it feels soothing, like things are normal. Like I can fool myself into feeling ordinary again. Part of me wishes we can go back to before the games, before the war, but we can't, and my chest aches with the truth. Gale killed...her. Gale became a bloodthirsty man in the war. But having him in front of me makes me realize I want to forget. I'm willing to forget, just to feel happy again.

"Hey, Gale." My voice is scratches through my throat as a result of disuse. Though I cough to clear it, Gale's pitied...no, saddened look makes a reappearance. The irritation within me reignites fully. Some of it is him, but I know a lot of it has to do with myself, for being too willing to push aside the past for him. Part of me actually wants him to worry over me, and that makes me more angry than he ever will. I start to stuff my food into my mouth so I can return to my chair, staring into the fire, forgetting him and the things he makes me feel. But the tightness in my throat has returned, and a bit of toast gets caught in my throat, causing a coughing fit which only makes Gale look even more troubled. I give up and just look at him, emotionless. I'm not his to worry over, and if he was so concerned, why hadn't he come to visit earlier, or even call?

"I tried calling." He mumbles, as if he read my mind. I guess it could be true, I hadn't even touched the phone since I got home. I had been ignoring it, hadn't I? I refuse to believe him though. He had some important job to do in the government. Why would he call? Why was he even here? "I just wanted to check up on you. I got worried." Somehow, the words don't seem genuine. I don't want them to be genuine. Evidence from the past indicates that they aren't. I reply with a scoff, which only makes him purse his lips. Sae clears her throat, and we both whip our heads to look at her, having forgotten she was there.

"I'm leaving for now, I'll be back later." She gathers her granddaughter and starts heading out the door, only calling behind herself to add "Make sure she finishes her food, Gale!" Adding an uncomfortable laugh before closing the door.

"Katniss…" Now that Sae is gone, Gale's face contorts into a look of hurt that brings tears to my eyes. I suddenly regret being so cruel and unforgiving. Him being in pain will always be my weakness. He looks on the verge of tears himself, which is so unlike Gale, and I'm taken aback. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about...everything." His voice catches a few times, but the tears don't run down his cheeks. Instead, they flow down mine. I offer up a lame acceptance of his apology before I fall apart completely. He stands up and walks towards me, arms extended, and I gladly get up and stumble into his embrace, sobs wracking my body as soon as his arms wrap around me.

We stand there for an unmeasurable amount of time, no expectations, only comfort. He's stroking my hair, I'm clutching to him like my life depends on it. When Gale held me before the war, I felt so safe. I try to let the feeling come now, and though it doesn't, the closeness is nice. We don't break apart until long after my tears have stopped, and we sit back down at the table. The crying paired with the embrace has had an cathartic effect on me, and I feel better than I have in a long while. Gale makes sure I eat while still not touching his own food. I raise an eyebrow in question, but he just shakes his head. After my last bite, he breaks the silence.

"It's a great day for hunting." He comments, and I follow his gaze out the window. The sun is still making it's ascent into the sky, it's at least 4 hours until noon. I catch his gaze again and give him a small smile. We hadn't hunted together since living in thirteen. It seems like a lifetime ago, even though it can't be more than a few months. Or maybe a year. I've lost track of the time. I have no idea how many months I have sat here next to the hearth, or how many months I was hidden away while my trial was going on without me. The idea of going outside, after all this time, has some appeal.

"We could go hunting" I offer up after short silence, before remembering that I have no bows. Suddenly unsure if I'm up for this, I start to back out. Gale cuts me off with a smile.

"I brought our bows, the one's your father made, back from 13." He says, and I give him another small smile, this time in appreciation. I was afraid I'd never see them again. He get's up and starts heading towards the front door, throwing a look over his shoulder at me when I don't follow. "Well, are we going?" He asks, the same playful smile on his lips. I nod, and follow him to the front door, where a box sits, with my father's hunting jacket, the plant book, the bows and few other items from our compartment in 13. For the first time since Prim died, a small spark of happiness ignites inside me from the familiarity, before quickly fizzling out, leaving a shadow I desperately try to cling to.