Stay with me, always.

Chapter 35. Tolerate It

"Recovery is not an easy road, it's often an uphill battle, but even you can overcome addiction." I crumpled up the pamphlet and threw it into the trash. Who was writing this shit? Soarynn didn't need to worry about any hills, not when I was prepared to blast them to rubble. Dinner ended early if you can imagine. Mother looked mortified as she sent Maybe-Aslen home early after her two children duked it out on the dining room floor. But I had a feeling he enjoyed it, he was probably taking notes on how his Games had affected the lone survivor.

I hadn't gone to see her since she was pulled off of me, at first she was taken to the hospital for a psych evaluation. While she wasn't crazy, she was coming off very heavy and strong drugs, and the withdrawal periods could sometimes last months. But we didn't have months. Eudora had pushed back the Victory Tour once already, but now she had to do it again, and I know she wanted to throw us all on the train and get this show on the road. There wasn't much of a show to give at the moment, Soarynn was now back at home, confined to her bedroom. Mother had tried to convince me to visit her and try to lift her spirits, but I wasn't in the lifting mood. I had gotten off rather easy, with a few small bruises on my neck, and a decent scratch on my face. Nothing Atley couldn't fix. Mother told me Soarynn was sorry for attacking me, which I didn't buy for a second. She hated me, she had said it herself.

The therapist Mother had hired finally made his appearance, he was five feet tall, a little chubby, and had a very whimsical mustache. I thought he was here to see Soarynn since she clearly needed all the help she could get, but he was here for me at the moment. We talked for a while, I told him about school and my friends, how helpless I felt when Soarynn was taken away, and how blocked out I felt now that she was back. "Maybe you should ask her how she feels," he said as he twirled his mustache. I sighed, "I have been, I've asked her a hundred times how she's feeling and she never answers!" I mean honestly, did he think this was amerature hour? He smiled, "How have you been listening?" I shifted nervously in my seat, we were in one of the many sitting rooms we had in the house, and I was almost certain that Mother was just around the corner, ready to make this all about her.

"I mean, she doesn't talk anymore," I told him, scratching the back of my neck, "kind of a waste of time don't you think?" He wrote something down before looking up at me, "Maybe her way of speaking right now isn't through words." I felt like I had been punched in the gut. "I don't know how to get her to speak to me then," I said exasperatedly, I felt like a failure to this complete stranger, I had known him for all of fifty minutes and here I was, pouring my heart out to him. I don't even talk to my Mother this way. "Well, before the Games, what did she enjoy doing?" He asked, well she liked being around me, but that wasn't what he was looking for. She liked to spend time with her friends, feed the koi fish, kiss me, go on walks, sing, draw...DRAW. "She was an artist," I told him, sitting up straight in my seat, he raised his eyebrows, "well, she could draw, she might have been an artist, before all of this," I said gesturing to our surroundings. He nodded, scribbling in his notes, "Then it appears you've found your way of speaking," he said, giving me a small smile.

My hour was up with this strange man with facial hair, and I actually felt as if some progress had been made. I walked him to the door, "Thank you..." I still didn't know his name, he smiled up at me, grabbing his briefcase, "Tiberius, Mr. Snow, my name is Tiberius," I opened the door, "Well, thank you, Tiberius." He walked down the steps before I called out, "Wait! What if...what if I don't love the new version of her?" I asked, horrified of what might be waiting for me behind her bedroom doors. He stopped and turned around, "Then you'll just have to tolerate it, sir."

If anyone in this household would understand what I needed, it was Eudora. And while she doesn't live with us in the President's Mansion full time, she does have an honorary room for the instances where she has to stay the night. I didn't even knock, bursting into the room, "Eudora!" We both let out a scream when seeing each other, her screaming out of pure shock and surprise, me screaming because she was bald.

Now don't get me wrong, lots of people are bald in the Capitol, in fact, Jadis was bald, ironic since she was in charge of all of Soarynn's body hair. But I had always expected something to be under Eudora's wigs. "Coriolanus! What on earth are you doing here?!" She shrieked, snatching a wig off of a mannequin head and pulling it onto her head. "I live here!" I cried, she huffed, making sure her hair was straight, "Well, yes, of course, you do, dear, but it isn't like you to forget to knock." She had me there, I always knocked, unless it was with Soarynn. "My apologies," I said, looking at my shoes as she fixed her appearance in the mirror, "but I need a favor." Her eyes shot up, meeting mine in the mirror, "A favor?" She asked, blinking like an owl, with pink eyelashes. I nodded, "It's for Soarynn," I explained, her expression softened, "How can I help?"

Say what you want about Eudora, but she's punctual. I expected her to get everything by tomorrow at the latest, but in less than an hour, she was running up the stairs, with a giant white bag in her hands. She shoved it into my arms before leaning over, catching her breath, "That...that should be everything dear...I'm...I'm going to go lie down now," she said as she turned to go back down the stairs. "Thank you! I called, and she gave me a weak thumbs-up as she hobbled down the stairs. I peeked into the bag, perfect, I thought, she really had gotten everything. Now all I needed to do was gather up my courage and face Soarynn.

Maybe tomorrow. No! I needed to man up, if I was in Soarynn's position, she'd be doing everything in her power to break down this wall between us. I took a deep breath before marching over to her door and knocking. Nothing. Maybe she was asleep. I slowly opened the door, peeking my head in to see her sitting up in her bed, petting Petunia and looking out her window. I slowly walked in, not making any sudden movements. We hadn't seen each other in about five days, and I also didn't know how much she remembered. She looked away from the window, looking at Petunia as she spoke, "Come to check me off your list?"

I stopped in my tracks, my list? Surely I was an organized man, I mean, failing to plan was planning to fail, Eudora had drilled that into both our brains from a very young age. I swallowed, taking another few steps towards her bed, "I came to see you," I told her, watching her face for any signs of anger. She reached up to brush her hair behind her hands when I realized she was strapped to the bed, her hands in cuffs, only letting her reach so far.

I finally looked back at her face to find her looking at mine, "Don't worry," she said, "they probably threw away the key," she raised her arm to reveal that you not only needed a key, but a fingerprint to unlock her from the restraints. Her eyes didn't hold the void they used to, there was life in them now, not a lot, but it was there. She had bags under her eyes, she looked exhausted, her hands were shaky and she was blinking a lot. "Morphlings a bitch," she said, tilting her head at me, I nodded, "So I've seen." She shook her head, "Out of all the things you could have done for me, that was the most unexpected one." Was that supposed to be a compliment? I really couldn't tell right now.

Before I could respond I watched as her facial muscles relaxed, her breathing coming to a very slow pace, and her blinks slowing, her hands were still now. "Are you okay?" I asked nervously shifting on my feet, she looked up at me slowly, and the vacant look was back in her eyes. Oh, great, she's gone nonverbal again, I thought bitterly. I dropped the bag of supplies, causing Petunia to startle awake, hopping off of Soarynn's lap and running over to investigate me. I grabbed a sketchbook and a marker, I figured a pencil could be used as a weapon, and Eudora had agreed.

I walked over to her bedside, opting to sit on the very edge of the bed, right next to her. She looked down at my hands at the sketchbook, "I thought you'd like to draw something," I said, offering her the book and marker. She stared at the offering for a moment, before cautiously taking both from my hands, brushing against them with her own. Her hands were freezing. "I don't know what you'd want to draw," I admitted, standing up to grab the bag and bringing it over to her, "but I brought a lot of things." In the bag were crayons, pastels, and even watercolors. She peered into the bag, before looking back at the sketchbook and opening it, she uncapped the marker and held it over the paper, ready to draw, then she stopped. She looked up at me.

Oh. I was still not welcome, I was an intruder in her personal space, and I needed to leave immediately. I nodded, standing up and making my way to the door, "I'll come visit you tomorrow," I promised her. She was already scribbling on the sketchpad, paying me no mind. This wasn't exactly how I had planned out this surprise, but it was a start. And she couldn't hate me forever, but until then, I would have to tolerate it.