Katniss' Plan Pt.2

(Gale's POV)


  ''I know,'' she answers, seeming completely lost for words.
  What? Did she just say 'I know' after I said I loved her?! Okay, I get that she wasn't expecting this, that I caught her completely off guard. But really?
  In an instant she's changed from a person lost for words into someone who has managed to come with the single one, most terrible answer to a love confession ever. 'I know'?!
  I start to draw away. Feeling the disappointment and sadness crashing down on me like someone has thrown a sack of bricks on my body. But Katniss won't have it. She grabs hold of me, her voice panicked with desperation. ''I know! And you . . . you know what you are to me.'' It's not enough. I break our link, forcing her to let go of me. ''Gale, I can't think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, every waking minute since they drew Prim's name at the reaping, is how afraid I am. And there doesn't seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don't know.''
  Well, I guess that's better than nothing. And now I at least know why. Why she's been acting the way she has. Not just to me, but to Peeta as well. Never deciding. Always seeming almost indifferent. ''So we'll go. We'll find out,'' I say, sounding a lot less enthusiastic than a minute ago. She must've heard. I turn back to the fire where I flip over the chestnuts that are starting to burn. ''My mother's going to take some convincing,'' I say.
  ''Mine, too.'' She says. ''I'll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won't survive the alternative.''
  I disagree with her here because I know better. I guess when it comes to this – Katniss' relationship with her mother – it's easier to see from the outside how it works. ''She'll understand,'' I assure her. And then verify myself because I know she won't accept my words without an explanation. ''I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won't say no to you.''
  ''I hope not,'' she says, still not completely accepting my words. Like I knew she wouldn't. I know this girl too well. Much too well for my own good, certainly. Ah, what's wrong with me? I just said I loved her and she didn't say it back. Not to mention she just got engaged. And it sure as the Games* wasn't to me. So what am I doing still caring about her? Still feeling so incredibly close to her? I should be angry with her. I want to be angry with her. But right now, I can't.
  And then she says; ''Haymitch will be the real challenge.''
  What?!  ''Haymitch?'' I abandon the chestnuts at the heath and turn back to her. ''You're not asking him to come with us?'' I demand. She can't be serious. She has to be joking. Right?
  ''I have to, Gale. I can't leave him and Peeta because they'd – '' I try no effort at all now, to hide my scowl. And I have no problem finding the anger anymore. Not at all. ''What?'' she asks.
  ''I'm sorry. I didn't realize how large our party was,'' I snap at her.
  ''They'd torture them to death, trying to find out where I was,'' she says, trying to convince me.
  But it's not working. Not just because of how I feel toward Peeta. And how, every time she says his name, I feel an anger rising up deep inside me, waiting to come out and explode.
  No, there's something else as well. Another thought that holds my attention. ''What about Peeta's family? They'll never come,'' I know she knows that. But I have to make her see it first. ''In fact, they probably couldn't wait to inform on us. Which I'm sure he's smart enough to realize. What if he decides to stay?'' I ask her.
  She's trying much too hard to sound indifferent when she answers; ''Then he stays.'' Anyone good see that. You don't have to be her best-friend for that one.
  Best-friend . . .  oh, how bitter sweet!
  But her trying so hard isn't the worst thing. It isn't what triggers the anger, the hate and the hurt. No, that's triggered by her voice, cracking. It's so clear, so obvious. And it hits right through me in an instant. Right down to my core.
  ''You'd leave him behind?'' I challenge her. Lucky for me, doing a good job in hiding the emotions that are slithering underneath my calm façade.
  Only a second after I asked her the question though, I wonder if I regret it. Or not. I'm really not sure whether it was the worst, or the best question to ask. But I guess I'm about to find out.
  ''To save Prim and my mother, yes,'' she says. And for a second, I feel kind of relieved. I know it's horrible, I know it makes me a terrible person. I know. But I don't care. I feel definitely, absolutely relieved.
  And then she rethinks her answer.
  ''I mean, no! I'll get him to come,'' she quickly corrects herself. Only a second had passed, and she's already taking back her answer. Taking back my relieve in the process, too.
  ''And me, would you leave me?'' I ask her. The exact wrong question. I know that this time. Even before the words came out of my mouth. But I made them come out anyway. Harshly, just as the look in my eyes when I gaze into hers, demanding an answer. I continue, when she doesn't say anything, ''Just if, for instance, I can't convince my mother to drag three young kids into the wilderness in winter.''
  ''Hazelle won't refuse. She'll see sense,'' she says. Not the answer I wanted to hear. Not an answer at all. At least, not to my question.
  ''Suppose she doesn't, Katniss,'' I press her. ''What then?''
  ''Then you have to force her, Gale. Do you think I'm making this stuff up?'' she says, her voice rising, in anger. But still not giving me an answer. She's missing the whole point. How hard can it be to properly answer one single question?!
  Really hard, apparently. Whatever, I give up.
  ''No.'' I answer. You see, Katniss? That's how you answer a question! ''I don't know. Maybe the president's just manipulating you. I mean, he's throwing your wedding. You saw how the Capitol crowd reacted. I don't know if he can afford to kill you. Or Peeta. How's he going to get out of that one?'' I say.
  Maybe it's my survival instincts running wild. Making me come up with wild complot theories. But what do I care? It's my survival instincts that has kept me alive all this time, can't hurt to listen to them now. Can't hurt to double check every possible motive the Capitol could have to kill us. Or not kill us.
  But it's clear Katniss is not excepting my theory, my reasoning, in the slightest. She just gets more angry. ''Well, with an uprising in District Eight, I doubt he's spending much time choosing my wedding cake!'' she shouts in an impulse.
  Wait, what? Did I hear that right? Or am I starting to imagine things? No, I think not. I know not. She clearly said 'uprising'. Didn't she? Yes. Yes, she did.
  By the time I register the truth of this, the greatness of it, my cheeks already feel warm and my eyes are bright with excitement. But I have to be sure first . ''There's an uprising in Eight?'' I ask in a low voice. Afraid that if I speak too loud I would burst the bubble of this incredible reality. That it would turn out to be a dream. Or an allusion. And this has to be reality.
  But Katniss doesn't seem to think it's incredible. Not at all actually. She's even trying to defuse me and to take back what she said. But she can't. We both know it. ''I don't know if it's really an uprising,'' she says. ''There's unrest. People in the streets – ''
  ''What did you see?'' I interrupt her, grabbing her shoulders. Looking her straight in the eye. I know I'm being too intense. And that will only scare her off; she'll make what she knows sound less than it is. And I have too know everything. Every little detail.
  ''Nothing!'' she exclaims. ''In person. I just heard something.'' She tries to look away, but I force her not to. Keeping my eyes on hers. Grabbing her shoulders even tighter in my hands.
  Eventually, she gives up and tells me everything she knows. ''I saw something on the mayor's television. I wasn't supposed to. There was a crowd, and fires, and the Peacekeepers were gunning people down but they were fighting back.'' She stops and bites her lip, struggling with something. Her eyes had slowly moved down while she talked, but now she looked back up at me. She looks sad. Devastated, really. Like that, she continues. ''And it's all my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would've happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe, too.''
  I understand where she's coming from. I do. But she's seeing it all wrong. ''Safe to do what? Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven't hurt people – you've given them an apportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. There's already been talk in the mines. People who want to fight. Don't you see? It's happening! It's finally happening! If there's an uprising in District Eight, why not here? Why not everywhere? This could be it, the thing we've been – ''
  ''Stop it!'' She yells, interrupting me. Not sad any more. Angry again. ''You don't know what you're saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they're not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people – they mean less than nothing to them!''
  She still doesn't see. All the things she's saying are no the reasons not to do it. They are the reason for the exact opposite. ''That's why we have to join the fight!'' I tell her. Why can't she see it?
  ''No!'' she yells back. ''We have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!
  She isn't going to see it. Not now at least. It will take her a long time probably. If she will at all. I realize that now. ''You leave, then. I'd never go in a million years,'' I say harshly, pushing her away from me.
  She doesn't understand, not thinking I was being this serious about fighting before.
  ''You were happy enough to go before. I don't see how an uprising in District Eight does anything but make it more important that we leave,'' she says, just like I knew she would. But then she surprises me. ''You're just mad about – '' she starts, but then stops herself. I know exactly what she was about to say, but still, I'm grateful she didn't. Instead she asks, ''What about your family?''
  ''What about the other families, Katniss?'' I can't help myself; I'm still trying to make her see. And I guess I always will. ''The ones who can't run away? Don't you see? It can't be about just saving us anymore. Not if the rebellion's begun!'' I shake my head, letting her see how wrong I think she is. ''You could do so much.'' I throw the gloves I'm still holding at her feet. ''I changed my mind. I don't want anything they made in the Capitol.''
  And I'm gone.