"No!"

The scream has left my lips before I even realise I'm speaking, and then I'm rushing forwards.

"No! NO! Stop!" I scream, getting to Gale just as this new peacekeepers, whatever his name is, throws another lash.

"ARGH!"

I scream in pain, quite the same way Gale did, as the whip falls against my face. I fall to the ground, black spots appearing in my vision as I taste blood.

The peacekeeper above me grunts as I lay below Gale, going in for another lash.

"Sage!" Gale groans, his voice a mix of pain and fear, nothing like the last time he spoke to me. "Sage, it's okay, just go!"

But I won't. I can't.

I stare at him in horror, his back even more terrifying close up, and then I stand.

I stand in front of him.

And I know this won't be good for my image in the Capitol, I know Snow will hate it, and I know this may be sealing my death wish, but I don't care.

This peacekeeper is not hurting Gale anymore.

"Move," he snaps, his eyes darken and his teeth bared.

I don't move an inch, spreading my arms out to cover the man behind me. He's not going to hurt Gale anymore. Not if I'm here.

He stares at me when he realises I'm not going, his cruel mouth twisting into a smirk as he raises the whip. "You want another?"

I don't flinch this time. All I can think about is Gale's back, how deep some of those lashes were, and how I can't let him get more.

So I stand my ground. "Go ahead."

But he doesn't use the whip. Instead, he abandons it and pulls out his gun, aiming it right at my chest.

A part of me begs him to fire it. To end my miserable existence before more people get hurt. This is all happening because of me, after all. Gale's at the whipping post because of me.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

Before I know it, Haymitch is running into the fold, arms up. The gun is then trained on him as he stands in front of me.

"Get out of my way!" The peacekeeper demands, his voice cold and commanding.

"No, y-you don't wanna shoot her," Haymitch tries to explain.

"How about I shoot both of you?"

"Look, commander, you're- you're new here," Haymitch keeps his hands held aloft, talking swiftly but calmly. "Trust me, I'm trying to help you. I'm Haymitch. You recognise her? Sage Everdeen, darling of the Capitol?"

I am breathing heavily behind Haymitch, a welt already growing from where the whip hit me. I don't look like the 'darling' of anything.

And the man before us thinks the same thing. "She interfered with a peacekeeper-"

"I never said she was smart," Haymitch chuckles slightly, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Look, you already got a couple of lashes in, right?"

"That's not good enough, she's an agitator!"

"Hey, get away from her!"

The gun is raised again as Cato runs into the mix, and my head is spinning hard.

Cato does not know Gale. Has never met him. And I have never mentioned him. Yet suddenly, he's running into the fray to protect him (and me).

He's going to hate me even more now he knows how close I am with him.

"Easy, easy," Haymitch shoves Cato behind him. I don't bother to even look at him. The last time I saw him was early this morning, when I left his new house. This is his first day in Twelve, and I'm already fucking it up.

"Look," Haymitch says to the peacekeeper. "You sure Snow wants three dead victors here? Cause that's what we're looking at. It's bad enough that you marked up her face before the big wedding, let it go. And we will, too."

The gun is still pointed at his chest when the peacekeeper sighs. Then, slowly, it gets lowered.

"Alright," his voice is deadly. "Okay. But next time, it's the firing squad."

He takes a step closer, and Haymitch faces him. "Excellent idea."

"I don't care who she is," he snaps, then scoffs, rolling his eyes before turning, booming out orders in a loud voice.

"CLEAR THE SQUARE!" He yells, anger in every line of his face. "YOU'RE ALL UNDER CURFEW. ANYONE OUT AFTER DARK, WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT!"

The crowd scarpers, and I can't say I blame them. Then, he turns back to Haymitch, radiating anger, and snarls. "Get him out of here."

We don't have to be told twice.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

"It's Gale!"

Haymitch shouts those two words as soon as we break through the door of my house. Gale is on a wooden stretcher, lying on his front, being carried by Cato, Haymitch, Katniss and a bunch of his mine buddies. He's groaning in pain, tears on his face, and I can feel the pain too.

Cato's eyes are fixed on me every few seconds, but there's no time to explain what this man is to me. He can get answers later.

"Get him here!" My mother, who is making dinner, shouts when she sees us. She and Prim instantly go into work mode, rushing back and forth between the kitchen and the worktop to clear the table as we all clear in.

The grunt of pain that comes from Gale's lips as they put the stretcher on the table makes me want to scream. I bite down on my lip, hard, and hope that conceals the whimper I want to let out.

Once he is lying before my mother, everyone takes a breath.

Not me. I rush forwards, examining his back. The lashes are deep, and he must've got at least thirty or forty. The thought makes me want to be sick.

"New Head Peacekeeper," Haymitch said with a certain sarcasm. "Not entirely peaceful."

Before I know it, Prim is cupping my cheeks, looking at the whip strike on my face. "Missed your eye. Doesn't need stitches."

I don't have time to marvel at how grown she's gotten, at how she's absolutely nothing like the young girl I volunteered for less than a year ago, because my mother is instructing her. "Make a snow coat."

"Katniss, get the snow," Prim said. "I'll grind the herbs."

I know what a snow coat is, having seen my mom put one on countless miners' backs. But I never thought I'd see Gale get one.

In the meantime, my mother is pouring some sort of clear liquid on Gale's back. He howls in pain as soon as it touches him, and I shout. "What is that? It's hurting him!"

Cato's looking at me, I can feel it, but I ignore it for now. I don't need anymore problems.

"He needs morphling," my mom says in her stern tone, capping the bottle she was just pouring and heading over to the cupboard to find what she needs. Morphling, the strong healing drug she was never able to buy until we came into money.

I notice Haymitch eyeing up the original bottle but put an end to that, rolling my eyes.

My mom is back, her shaking hands trying to suck up morphling from a small jar with a syringe. Prim, thankfully, sees she'd struggling and steps in. "Mom, I'll do it."

She fills the syringe with precision and again, I'm shocked at how she looks so aged doing it.

"Hold him, please," she instructs two of Gale's mining comrades, and they do so. With that, she injects him, right in the back. He grunts loudly, gritting his teeth, but she doesn't stop until the needle is out. Good thing, because Gale sighs the second the morphling enters his bloodstream.

"That's better," Prim murmurs, disposing of the syringe by the sink so it can be cleaned and sourced.

I bite my lip as I step back, squeezing my eyes shut. All the cameras in this house will show this afternoon is me ignoring Cato and worrying about Gale. But I can't help that now.

I can still feel his eyes on me, his body about a metre back from mine. I know what he's thinking.

But this isn't me choosing Gale.

It's me saving him.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

I still haven't spoken to Cato when he leaves an hour later. I haven't said much in general actually.

When my mother and Prim and Katniss go to bed that night, I don't. Instead, I stay awake and sit next to Gale. He's sleeping now, or just passed out. The snow coat is on his back, dripping every now and then and soothing it, making it numb. Prim's going to give him another morphling shot in the morning.

I'm just... sat next to him right now. Everything's rushing through my mind like a hurricane and I'm letting it go. I think of Cato, Snow, my engagement, Gale, his whipping, the uprising in Eight. I think of my plan to run, which is impossible now because Gale can't move.

And then I realise that even if I ran, I'd never be safe. I'd spend my life constantly wondering if there were peacekeepers on our backs, wanting to go back to what I used to know. I'd become a paranoid wreck, and I wouldn't be able to love anyone, even Katniss and Prim, like that.

I'm staying, I realise, and it makes me relax sightly to know that.

Gale sighs in his sleep and diverts my attention back to him.

He's so... handsome. I've heard girls at school use that phrase a million times and rolled my eyes, but it was true. He was handsome, and even working in the mines hadn't changed that.

And Gale's like me. Sometimes scarily like me, in fact. Quick to anger, quick to fight, slow to apologise and admit when wrong.

And Cato's just different. He can be quick to anger, as well, and he can fight. I've seen it. But... he has a soft side neither Gale nor I sport. He has a side that makes him softer, that makes him care.

A side he exercised with me quite a bit in the games.

Could I be happy with Cato? Could I be happy with Gale? Or should I choose neither, because I'm undeserving? Because I am undeserving, that I am sure of.

I realise that I have unintentionally moved closer to Gale whilst thinking of all this, and before I can think another thought, I'm leaning forwards to catch his lips with mine.

I don't know why I choose to kiss Gale. Maybe because I have decided to stay here with him, and this is to show I'm serious. Maybe it's because I want to banish all thoughts of the blonde haired, blue eyed boy from District Two out my mind.

The kiss is short, and I'm moving back before I can really think. Gale sighs slightly in his sleep, and his eyes flutter open.

I don't know if he was awake for the kiss, nor do I ask. Part of me doesn't want to know.

"Hey, Sage," he whispers.

"Hey," I whisper back.

Gale doesn't say anything about the kiss, and instead opts for. "Thought you'd be gone by now."

I shake my head. I know there's cameras and microphones in this house, so I decide not to tell him exactly what I'm thinking. But I say something pretty damn close.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell him. "I'm gonna stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble."

That's a phrase, but the look on Gale's face makes me realise he understands. He knows that means I'm staying here with him and fighting in a possible rebellion. He knows that means I'm not going down without a fight.

Gale chuckles slightly. "Me too."

I nod, shifting my position slightly to lean on the edge of the table, trying to sleep.

It must work, because I'm out like a light in seconds.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

"Hey."

It's Cato that wakes me.

His hand is on my shoulder, and his dark blue eyes are darker than usual. I realise why. My head is rested on Gale's forearm.

"Hey," I sit up, my head rushing slightly as Cato sits down in the chair next to Gale, the chair I declined. I sigh, untangling my limbs from their mess on the floor and standing up slowly. Then, I sit in the chair next to his, watching as he watches Gale. He's back under now, the drugs firmly putting him out, and I can't say I'm mad about it.

"He was your boyfriend, wasn't he?"

Cato's voice is dark and deep, and his eyes remain trained on Gale as he talks. I don't bother scoffing, because I'm not going to have another fight with him, but I too keep my eyes on the man as I answer.

"Hunting partner," I correct. "He and I never..."

I trail off, because in actual fact I never even thought of a relationship with Gale had the games not happened. I suppose it's what would've happened eventually, given that I would've been pushed into marriage and Gale would've been the best option. But we had never done anything remotely romantic until he kissed me a few weeks ago.

Cato sucks in a breath. "Right."

I look at him, and all I can see and feel is anger. I don't think he understands how necessary Gale was to my survival before the games. Having grown up in a place where there was always enough food on the table, he just doesn't get it.

"I don't know why you're upset," I say, trying to keep my voice as devoid of anger as possible. I fail miserably. "I thought you hated me."

Cato laughs. Actually laughs. But it's a bitter laugh, filled with anger and sarcasm and annoyance. Then, he turns to face me.

I am not anticipating the amount of impact those ice blue eyes have on me. They're filled with malice and hurt, and all I can think of is how goddamn beautiful they are.

"Sage, I don't think I could ever hate you," he snapped. "That's the problem."

I frown, because I don't have a clue what he's talking about. "Problem?"

Cato nods, as if he thinks I'm being stupid, which I probably am. "Yeah, Sage, it's a problem. Because I wish I could hate you, like you clearly seem to hate me, but no matter what I do, it's like I'm drawn to you. And I hate it."

I digest this, watching those blue eyes glitter with intent, and being unable to process.

Cato saying all this makes me even more confused, because I feel the exact same way. Even though I've just kissed Gale and almost ran away with him, I'm still drawn to him, as well.

And I hate it, too.

But I'm not as slick with words as Cato is.

"Listen, I'm gonna go get more snow," I tell him. "Stay here and quit acting like a jealous fucking bitch, or leave."

I can hear his low scoff and rumble of a chuckle as he watches me go, grabbing a bowl from the edge of the table. I don't bother to turn round.

When outside, I kneel down beside a verge of snow beside the path up to my house, and begin to shovel snow with my hands into the bowl.

It's there that Prim finds me, walking down the front steps and coming to kneel beside me.

"Hey," I tell her, continuing to shovel snow.

"How's your eye?" She asks.

I sigh. I got some snow coat for my eye last night, and it's not even sore anymore. The welt will disappear in a few days.

"It's not my eye that's bothering me," I reply to my sister honestly. "How can we live like this? How can anybody live like this?"

It's true. Ever since I became a victor, I've been drowning in guilt. The guilt of surviving. The guilt of having all this money and being unable to use any of it to help anybody in the Seam.

I can't live as a rich girl, but I was also barely surviving as a poor one. There's no in between, and I don't know why one I'd choose if I had any choice at all.

"It's not living," Prim agrees with me. I'd almost forgotten she was there. "But... since the last games, something is different. I can see it."

I turn to her, my beautiful, brave, strong baby sister that life has been so cruel to, and ask. "What can you see?"

Prim answers me with one word. "Hope."

I wish I could see what she saw. She's kind, way kinder than me, and she's smart and she's shrewd, and I love her. That I know for sure.

"You understand that whatever I do, it comes back to you and Katniss and mom, right?" I ask, looking down as I finish filling the bowl with snow. "I don't want you - any of you - to get hurt."

But Prim shakes her head. "You don't have to protect me. Or Katniss or mom. We're with you."

I look at her, and I know what she says is true. She wants to stand with me, not behind me, in this fight. And I love her even more for it.

I pull her into a hug, and she melts into my arms, her own going around me. I told her tight and rest my chin on her shoulder.

"I love you," I tell her, and it isn't fake for the cameras, or hilariously put on. It's real.

"I love you too," says Prim.

And for the first time in god knows how long, I actually enjoy the feeling of being in someone's arms.