katniss everdeen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burnwithus) wrote2011-01-06 09:44 am
burnwithus) wrote2011-01-06 09:44 am
Entry tags:
(gale) we're half-awake in a fake empire
It's hours before Gale finally wakes up, even with all the care it took to treat and bandage up his back. It gives me many, many moments to wonder why I'm still sitting in this chair. To wonder if I can talk to him at all, even though I thought I never would again. Gale Hawthorne gave me the last arrow I ever shot in Panem, and I was supposed to die after that.
That was the plan. It didn't work.
Now where does that leave us? My mind sifts through the details and the memories, trying to create some kind of order out of the chaos. Gale was whipped after I told him Eight rebelled. He doesn't know about the Quell, or the war, or the rebellion that he helped plan.
He doesn't know about Prim.
A flash of anger fires through me, tenses my muscles all at once. He should know! I want to scream. He should know, even though this Gale has never even seen a bomb in his life. Even though this Gale thrives best in forests with clean air and running water and wouldn't dream of living in an underground bunker.
It's petty, but I've never been forgiving. Peeta's the one who sees the good in people, or tries to. I see what's there.
But that isn't fair. It would be as if the husband of the Capitol woman I shot came and found me before the Quell. Before the world changed. I wouldn't understand why I would do such a thing. I'd think that it wasn't possible.
No amount of cruelty is impossible when it comes to humans.
I bury my face in my hands and take a moment to breathe, tears slipping out of my closed eyes. Gale can't see me - he's unconscious. There's no one else around. He looks younger and more peaceful asleep, like he wouldn't be capable of the deadly things I know he is.
There was never anyone as good as Gale when it came to snares. It was the quarry that changed.
That was the plan. It didn't work.
Now where does that leave us? My mind sifts through the details and the memories, trying to create some kind of order out of the chaos. Gale was whipped after I told him Eight rebelled. He doesn't know about the Quell, or the war, or the rebellion that he helped plan.
He doesn't know about Prim.
A flash of anger fires through me, tenses my muscles all at once. He should know! I want to scream. He should know, even though this Gale has never even seen a bomb in his life. Even though this Gale thrives best in forests with clean air and running water and wouldn't dream of living in an underground bunker.
It's petty, but I've never been forgiving. Peeta's the one who sees the good in people, or tries to. I see what's there.
But that isn't fair. It would be as if the husband of the Capitol woman I shot came and found me before the Quell. Before the world changed. I wouldn't understand why I would do such a thing. I'd think that it wasn't possible.
No amount of cruelty is impossible when it comes to humans.
I bury my face in my hands and take a moment to breathe, tears slipping out of my closed eyes. Gale can't see me - he's unconscious. There's no one else around. He looks younger and more peaceful asleep, like he wouldn't be capable of the deadly things I know he is.
There was never anyone as good as Gale when it came to snares. It was the quarry that changed.