Broken Pawns

t e n

You're so fucked up. My brain screams.

  The following hours are full of barking orders, loading guns, loading hovercrafts, and landing in the woods that I once used to hunt in with Katniss. In the hours to follow me and six other men are dropped in the forest of District 12, we are told that the children are to be found and brought to 13. We are told to kill any capital soldier, person, or official that gets in our way. We are told not to have any mercy.

------------------------------ Katniss's POV ----------------------------

"I could play dead," I mumble.

    My forehead was pressed against the cold, metal bars of my cell. Hazelle was sitting in her cell that was across from me. Her eyes never seamed to leave me and Posy. Posy was in the cell diagonal from me and Vicky was in the cell next to me. Posy and Vicky had fallen asleep some time ago. I was trying to escape. My tired, dead, brain was trying to come up with escape plans and it was failing horribly. I wasn't much hoping I would escape, I was hoping I could get Posy, Vick, and Hazelle out of here.

"Playing dead Katniss isn't going to do anything." Hazelle sighs.

"It might," I say.

The old Hawthorne woman sighs, "You need sleep dear."

"Were will I wake up?" I ask. "Will I wake up here or in bed? Will I wake up in a new cell with people there ready to beat me? Will I wake up in Gale's arms?"

"You will wake up here. Posy, Vick, and I will be here when you open your eyes." She says in a soothing voice. I let myself sink to my knees, I let my hands grab the bars, I let my forehead stay against the cool bars, I let my eyes flutter closed.

"I trust you," I whisper.

I can almost hear the smile in her voice, "I know you do dear, now get some sleep."

I sigh deeply and keep my eyes closed as I let my brain slowly slow. I listen to now only my breathing but Hazelle's, Posy's, Vicks even. I listen to a melody that plays muffled in the back of my head. I slowly fall into the darkness.

(Flash back/dream)

"I hate this," I say, throwing the stupid outfit Effie had put on my bed. "I hate being a doll!"

"I know."

"I'm treated like I'm... " I'm so angry that I can't even get words to come out of my mouth. His hands find my arms. The touch of his skin against mine calms me for some reason. It always had and I wish I knew why.

"Were the pawns in his game for chess," Gale says.

"I don't want to be a pawn Gale," I whisper.

"Nor do I Katniss, but we have to be if we want our families safe." I drop my head against his chest. We got ourselves into this mess by volunteering, I got him into the mess of having to be an actor.

"I should have just died in that arena Gale," I mumble. He is silent. "If anyone should have died in that arena it should have been me." 

He would say but he knows I know what he's thinking so he doesn't say it out loud because he knows I will disagree with him. Gale's arms wrap around me as he sighs.

"I'm sorry Catnip." He whispers.

I bury my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around him. He was only saying that because he knew I would argue if he disagreed. In the time of half an hour, he would leave. I would put on the outfit Effie put out for me and force a smile as we got off the train, I would have to act like I was happy as we went to the victor's party in the capitol.

---------------------------------------------------->

"Gale." My voice shakes as he grips his knife.

Only one could come out. It was just me and him. It was just Gale and I left in the arena. His grey eyes meet mine. I wanted to kiss him, telling him it was going to be okay, I wanted to help him end all our pain but something in his eyes told me to stay where I was.

"Gale," I say again, this time my voice cracks as I sob tries to escape me.

"I'm sorry Catnip." He answers. "I'm so sorry."

Why was he apologizing to me? Was he going to kill me like hoped? Was he going to let me die so he can go home? In the corner of my eye, I see his arm move, not up in a position that showed he was reading to throw. Up towards his chest. My eyes go wide as I realize why he's apologizing.

"N-No." I stamper, putting my hands out to grab his. My reaction is to slow because just as my fingertips touch his hand, he drives the blade of the knife into his chest all the way to the hilt. I hear him gasp on pain and I watch in horror as his shirt soaks in blood along with his hand. My head snaps up, eyes meet his.

"I'm sorry." He says again, this time it's a painful whisper. My best friend, my hunting partner, the only person who I was able to be myself with was sacrificing himself for me. He was taking his life to give me mine.

Gale falls to his knees, coughing. I fall to my knees with him my tremoring hands gripping his wrists trying to pull them away from the handle of the blade. I manage to pry his hands away as he starts to wheeze. One of my hands grips the handle of the knife the other grips his shoulder. In a quick motion and rip the knife from his chest, coving the wound with my hand. I try to ignore the feeling of his blood on my hand as I fight to keep him up. Somehow I managed to get him on the ground and my jacket pressed against his chest at that point he was hanging on by a thread. I could tell that every breath he took brought pain.

*****

I look down at the knife in my hand and then at my wrist. Warm water ran down my arm as I stood underneath the faucet in the shower. My thought was to drag this knife across my wrist and watch the clear water turn bright red. My thought was to watch my dark red blood run down my arm. I hated the thoughts as much as I wanted them to happen.

I hear Prim knocking on the door. She's asking if I'm okay, asking if I'm still alive. Physically yes, I thought. Mentally no. I answer back saying I'll be out soon.

"Don't take too long," Prim says. "It's Sunday."

"I know it's Sunday," I say back.

I can almost hear her roll her eyes, "What are you doing today?"

"I'm going to sit in here and pour out all my emotions," I mutter.

She must have heard me because I hear her mutter to herself as if I had done something wrong. Last Sunday I was in the woods not hunting but just sitting in Gale and I's spot taking in the fact that I was home. I hadn't seen Gale at all in the two months of being back in Twelve. It just might be driving me crazy.

"Can I come to Katniss?" She asks.

"I don't know can you?" I smile slightly.

This time I can really hear her roll her eyes, " May I come in!?"

"Sure." I open the shower curtain and shove the knife under my towel before Prim opens the door. She would kill me if she saw that I was going to hurt myself. I would never forgive myself if she saw me like that.

"Do you remember your conversation with Hazelle?" Prim asks.

"Gale's working in the mines," I pull the memory of the conversation to the front of my brain. "Posy is getting sick again, Rory and Vicky are like oil and water."

   I jolt awake as I hear the slamming of a door. I scramble to my feet at the sound of Peeta Mellark's voice barking orders. Hazelle puts a hand over her mouth as a sob escapes her. Rory, Prim. My hands enclose over the bars and I almost say something but I can't. It's as if my lips are glued together.

Peeta and another guard were dragging the limp body of Gale.