InsaneJournal

Katniss was dreading this conversation, a little, so she had dragged out the trip to the cabin as much as she could. She’d wandered off their normal path, stopped to look up at the leaves changing color, taken her time skinning and resetting snares.

Part of her was afraid this was going to change things again, and not in a good way. But it wasn’t something that she could make better by keeping it secret.

She waited until they were sitting on the steps of the cabin, sharing the blackberries they’d found and the bread and cheese she’d brought along. As the companionable silence stretched out, she gathered her courage.

“I-” she started, and then faltered for a moment. There was no way to lead up to this, she just had to come out and say it. “I might be pregnant.”

--

Things were getting easier, especially now that they’d made up. Gale still wasn’t itching to socialize outside of their little circle, but progress was progress, and knowing that they could retreat in the woods just like they had when they were kids helped. It was easier to just sit quietly when there was less left unsaid in the first place.

And then, of course, she said pregnant and he choked.

Gale covered his mouth with his wrist until he could catch his breath enough to ask, “On purpose?”

--

Katniss stared at the piece of bread in her hands. She was glad he’d asked the question, simplifying what she had to say next. But this was also the part that was hardest to admit, and it took all of her courage to make herself meet his eyes when she answered. “Yeah.”

--

Gale let out his breath in a sigh. “Good, I wasn’t sure what kind of conversation this was going to be.” Because Katniss having a baby on purpose, and Katniss getting pregnant by accident, were two completely different roller coasters.

“Are you happy about it?”

--

He was taking this better than Katniss had expected. That shouldn’t have surprised her; it was just that sometimes, she still expected him to be much more like the Gale she’d known when she was younger. Maybe because selfishly, she wanted him to be. Not in this particular scenario - she really didn’t want him to be angry and jealous - but she had half-expected it, nonetheless.

She let out a breath of her own. “Not yet.”

--

It was tempting to just regress and let himself be petty or jealous about it, but he’d had time, had seen other women and thought about a future where Katniss might never speak to him again. Now he felt kind of relieved; he had his own baggage and feelings about kids, and navigate his and Katniss’s in some imaginary future? Didn’t sound fun.

Cautiously, he asked, “Was it your idea or his?”

--

“Both?” Katniss shrugged. “Originally, his. But it was my idea to do it here.”

She shifted, crossing her legs beneath her, and then took another bite of the bread and popped a berry in her mouth along with it. The worst of the conversation appeared to be over already, so she should be able to relax, but she still felt guilty, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Some part of her really wanted to express it somehow, but she also felt as though that might make it worse. “I probably would have… eventually… at home. But it’s easier here.”

--

It took Gale a few moments to react to that, swallowing his gut reaction of Why?. This place was foreign and weird and there were werewolves all over the place. How could this be safer than home?

But saying that would start an argument that Gale couldn’t win, because… well. Reasons. Already-might-be-pregnant reasons.

Instead, he said, “If that’s what you want. I’m on your side.” Trying not to sound too grudging. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway.

--

Somehow it always ended up like this. Gale swallowing down whatever hurt she’d dealt him and staying by her side anyway. It was as heartbreaking as it was comforting. “That’s part of the reason,” she said after a moment, her voice cracking a little. “Why I want to stay here, I mean. I don’t know how long it would have been before I’d seen you again, otherwise.”

Maybe she was making it worse; she didn’t know. She felt like she owed him an explanation, but maybe it was just her own conscience that needed to be absolved. Either way, she kept going. “You, and Finnick… he and Annie could have their life here. And there’s no Capitol, no one that remembers me as the Mockingjay.” She took a deep breath. “All those things… make it worth the monsters and the portal.”

--

Gale had to nod and agree. Who knew how much longer they would have stayed apart if they were still home?

“Freedom means different things to us now, doesn’t it? Weird that I just realized that.” They had been so thoroughly separated during the war when Katniss had been boosted up into some kind of myth, it was no wonder she wanted Peeta instead of him at the time. Peeta understood what being a Victor was like and had a better understanding of how she must think now.

--

“Yeah,” Katniss said. “I think it does.”

She still wasn’t entirely sure what his definition of freedom was. She knew his perspective on the Capitol and the war had always been different. That he also saw this place differently wasn’t really any surprise, and she’d known that already.

“You don’t have to agree with me,” she added, “And you don’t have to want to stay. I don’t know if it even matters if you do or not, if it affects our chances. It probably doesn’t. This is probably all a huge mistake.” She took a deep breath. “But, selfishly, I’m hoping you’re going to be around for this.”

--

Gale actually smiled, a little incredulous. “What am I going to do, take off and let someone else be your favorite babysitter? Not a chance. You need someone who’ll still talk to you when you’re throwing crap at Peeta and making Finnick do all your shopping.” As if Katniss would be anything but a stubborn heel the entire time. Peeta was going to have to bribe her to sit down and let other people handle things for her.

--

Katniss laughed, half mirth and half relief. She raised her hands and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. She lowered them a few moments later and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re all going to hate me.”

--

Gale snorted, shrugging her off of him so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders instead. “Yeah, probably. You’ll be the worst.” After a moment of thought, he added, “Peeta’s going to be so fucking annoying as a dad, though. You know that, right?”

--

Katniss laughed again, turning her head into his shoulder. The gratitude that she felt was was immense, and she didn’t know how to express it, but she also felt fairly certain that she didn’t have to. He probably already knew.

“I know,” she said, with an exaggerated sigh. She was biased; she thought Peeta was going to be amazing. It was also entirely possible that he’d end up getting on her nerves all the time, and vice versa. It wasn’t a possibility that held much concern for her, though.

She was unable to stop herself from asking, “Do you still want kids?”

--

That did make him stop and think. He had feelings about kids, but no one had ever asked him to explain them before, and he found it a little harder than he’d expected.

“Maybe,” he decided. “With the right person. I don’t date much, so I’m not exactly looking. But sure. Maybe.” Gale kind of shook his head, not wanting to commit. “I feel like I raised kids already, after Dad died. I don’t know if I’d be good at it now.”

--

The right person. Katniss had long since accepted that she wasn’t that person, but she still felt a little twinge at her heart. It hurt, still, that she’d had to hurt him. She hoped he wasn’t hurting over it anymore; he seemed to have done a much better job of healing from his wounds than she had.

“You would be,” she said, quietly. It seemed to be a universal fear for all of them, whether they were good enough to be parents. It was also much easier for her to see the potential in others than it was to see it in herself. “You took good care of your family. And mine. You’ve taken care of me a lot more than you were ever supposed to.”

She’d always wanted them to be equals, but between her own selfishness and his devotion to her, it kept ending up one-sided. If he was as prone to blaming himself as she was, he probably thought it was because he hadn’t done enough - especially when it came to Prim - but plenty of the blame lay with her, too. It seemed as good a time as any to acknowledge that.

--

“Supposed to,” Gale echoed, brushing it off. “I never did anything I didn’t want to. Not between us, anyway.” There were a lot of other things that had happened, especially close to home, but he wasn’t lying. He’d stuck by Katniss because he wanted to, no sense of obligation needed. She was his family.

Prim had been his family, too, but she was someone he didn’t talk about. Tried not to think about, though that didn’t work. Where Katniss had fallen apart and run away from the world, her death had made Gale feel as if he wasn’t allowed to stop working for years after she was gone. Only in the last few years had he started trying to forgive himself for it.

Trying.

--

“I know,” Katniss said softly. That wasn’t how she’d meant it. It had never been an obligation for either of them, to look after each other or their families. It was just what they did. But the world had put her burdens a lot more heavily on his shoulders than the other way around.

What she wanted to say was thank you. Now it didn’t really feel like the right moment, or like a sentiment he’d appreciate. So instead of saying it aloud, she lifted her head from his shoulder and just looked at him.

--

It was a nice, quiet moment that (thankfully) didn’t need them to say the most important parts: Thank you for being around me, I missed you, we’ll be fine. But silences stretched, and this one went on long enough that it almost turned awkward.

Gale chose to save it by leaning back a little and tugging on Katniss’s braid. “Come on, you’re gonna make me cry. Stop it.”