CHAPTER 13
The Promise
The clock ticked louder with every second that passed, slowly switching from worry to anger. Finnick and Ron waited in complete silence for Librae and Mags to walk into the room with any news about Olive's condition. However, the more they waited, the worse they expected the news to be.
One day had passed with no news. There were a couple of hours left until sunset, when the visit hours ended, letting them stay in the waiting room without having to get into a fight with the guards of the hospital. No one needed another show like the one they had pulled the day before. So those who talked to the doctors had to be the calmest and collected of the group, Mags and Librae.
From time to time, Piscia and Cario appeared, apologising for not being able to stay longer since their duties required them to be up and about in the Capitol. Both victors didn't mind their absence that much. It meant less time spent faking their Capitol behaviours.
The doors burst open, revealing an apparently unbothered Librae, and a worried Mags. Ron and Finnick got up from their seats, going towards them as the two female victors walked inside the room.
"She's stable, for now," Librae announced, worrying the two men even more than they already were. They opened their mouths, trying to ask a million questions. However, she stopped them by raising a hand in front of them. "I know little. It seems the Gamemakers overdid it this year while creating those mutts. The venom still lingers in her body. And it's probable it will for a long time."
"What do you mean by 'a long time'?" Finnick asked, glancing from Librae to Mags, who walked to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Will she be OK?"
"They don't know it themselves. The venom was strong, way too strong. It's a miracle she survived the first time, let alone the second. Some doctors say she might have a similar reaction to the first time and will lose some of her memories. But others fear it might go to a greater length the more the venom stays in her body." Librae explained, taking her hands to her hips while exhaling drowsily. No one had slept a wink since the day Olive survived.
"Can't they clean her blood or something?" Ron questioned, brushing his lips with two fingers anxiously.
"They didn't mention anything when I asked, so I'm guessing they thought about it. But, or they aren't allowed to, or they can't do it at the moment," Librae answered, taking a few seconds to breathe in and out deeply. "Worst of it all is, if the venom stays in her body any longer, her mind might identify these amnesic attacks after stressful moments as a normal thing. That means the next time she gets in a stressful situation, she might forget again. And they don't know how much she'll forget. Perhaps a year more than the last time. Two. Three. Everything. Maybe she won't even remember her name the moment she wakes up."
"So . . . she might forget who she is? Her family? Her home?" Finnick asked, too stunned to make any sense of the situation. Forgetting him, the Games, and the training, he could understand that. But forgetting the only people she had fought for was way too cruel. Not only to her family, but to Olive herself as well. Just how confused she would be. No memory at all. However, she'd have four people calling themselves her family, telling her all sorts of stories she wouldn't be able to recall at all, and calling her a name that she didn't know of.
Olive would be gone. The girl that made him forget his nightmares. The one that had allowed him to have a peaceful night of sleep. If she lost all her memories, it wouldn't be too different from her having died in the arena. The Olive he knew would be gone completely. His heart hurt at the sole thought of losing her. What had they done for this to happen? Both played by the rules. Why did they have to be punished like that?
"I know it won't be easy, but we should get ready for that possibility. She must know everything, no matter how hurtful and cruel it may seem. Not telling her would be the same as letting him have easy control over Olive," Librae said in a low tone. She didn't like the plan at all, but it was what they had to do. "If we all stay by her side, telling her everything we know about her and what happened in detail. We might trigger some memories. And she might remember something."
"What if she doesn't remember anything? What if she never remembers us or her family? . . . oh, god, or herself." Ron questioned, his anxiety taking the best of him as he ran his fingers through his short curly black hair, getting them inevitably tangled.
Mags mumbled a short phrase, making everyone look at her with a soft smile. Finnick took Mags' hand from his shoulder, using the opportunity to side hug her. "Mags's right. Olive can always create new memories with them. With us. And we can help her figure out who she is. Although, it might be better to only help her with that when she asks. I wouldn't want her to feel like she has to be someone she can't be."
"As always, Mags to the rescue," Ron joked, looking at the elderly woman with a bright smile.
Silence reigned again in the room. However, it was quickly taken over by Librae's decisive voice. "Go visit her now, Finnick. If you stay the night, suspicion may arise, and people may start gossiping. We both know how horrible that could end for you and Olive."
"Alright, thanks, Librae," Finnick muttered, letting go of Mags to walk hurriedly towards the doors, which flung open as he went past them. He didn't stop. His eyes darted around, looking frantically for Olive's room number. It didn't matter if he tried to hide it. His worry was overwhelming. His mind and rationality had nothing to do against it.
As he took a turn, he arrived in front of the room. The door had been left ajar, letting him see from outside Olive's condition. The scene wasn't at all pretty. She was connected to an artificial respirator. A mask enclosed her mouth and nose. Tubes connected it to the machine. Her right arm was being injected with who knew what kind of medicine.
Even her dark skin seemed to have lost its colour as she lay motionless. From his position, he could see how the arena had affected her physically. She seemed way smaller and fragile. He was convinced that the moment he touched her hand, it would crumble to pieces.
It was hard to face such a situation — to accept that she would not remember him, that worse things could happen to her than just forgetting the Games. How could he ever face her family if she forgot them? After all, he would be responsible for that happening. He was the one to convince the rest that it would be best for her to stay in an alliance.
If only he hadn't encouraged her with that Sponsor's gift. Who knew? Perhaps she wouldn't be in that position. Perhaps she would be fine. Obviously traumatised by the events in the arena, but with her memories intact. No danger of ever losing the person everyone knew.
Olive wasn't the most sociable person out there, but it was easy to develop a liking for her. She was caring and kind to those who deserved it. She knew when to crack jokes, and when silence would be the best answer.
After a long, exhausted sigh, Finnick stepped into the room, taking a seat on an armchair beside Olive's bed. His eyes were glued to her arm. Her veins were clear as day, an attribute she didn't have before. Her hands were lying open, perfectly still, on each side of her body.
"Hey Olive . . ." he found the strength to speak. Looking back at the now closed door, he made sure no one was there to overhear him and whispered the rest of his words. "It's been eight days since the last time we saw each other. Well, I saw you. You probably don't remember, nor will when you wake up. But I made a promise to you about how I'd explain to you how I know you're a hunter. Sincerely, I was going to wait until you woke up. But what does it matter? You're not even going to know what I'm talking about. You might even doubt if I'm saying the truth. It's going to take a while to gain your trust. "
He breathed in deeply, rubbing the palm of his hands on his trousers to get the sweat off. The motion achieved to calm him down and give him enough courage to hold her hand, which was covered with a perfectly placed bandage. "I traded with you a few years back. You were truly good, way better than me. You actually tricked me."
The memory popped up in his mind. It was hard to believe how vivid it was. "I'm glad you didn't remember that day. If not, you'd continue reminding me until the day I die . . . Though, now that I say it aloud, it doesn't sound that bad . . ." he whispered, tears threatening to leave his eyes. His hands trembled, unintentionally making her arm follow the slight motion. "We . . . I'm a mess, Olive. And I'm sure your family is a mess, too. We need you to wake up. To open your eyes. Remember what you said, that you would go back to them? I beg of you, come back."
A tear rolled down his cheek, both hands grabbing hers, raising it to his lips. "Come back to me." He muttered, his voice breaking slightly. He left her hand over her stomach, not having any strength left to continue facing her. With one last look at Olive's apparent sleeping state, he got up, turned around, and left.
His mind completely shut off for the rest of the night. The only place that could give him the slightest sensation of reality was the rooftop of the Training Centre. However, reality got away from his grasp at every sound. He turned around, every time without fail, expecting Olive to be behind him, grinning, mocking him for being in such a state. But she never was.
She was far away. In the Hospital. He had seen her herself. The way she lay in bed, like a corpse. Her skin was deprived of colour. Her eyes closed shut. There was nothing that could let him have the slightest hope that she would ever wake up again.
Footsteps resounded from a few metres behind him. Finnick turned around, hope no longer lingering in his eyes. "Hey Finnick, rough night?" Ron greeted, getting closer to him.
"Can't really bring me to lay down and sleep. Last time I did, I scared Mags," Finnick muttered, his eyes going back to the Capitol's scenery.
"Librae stayed behind to watch over her. You know that, right? We'll be the first to be notified if she does as much as moving a finger," Ron tried to encourage him, though it was clear it wasn't working too well. "What's bothering you? And don't say 'she's not waking up', because you know damn well that he won't let that happen. The Capitol needs its Victor. Alive and awake."
Finnick rested his face on the palm of his hands. He didn't know where to begin. What exactly worried him? That was a perfectly good question, for which he had no answer. Many things appeared in his mind, none good enough to drive him so on edge.
"I . . . I really don't know," he muttered, his hands enclosing his nose and mouth like the machine that helped Olive keep breathing. "I'm so worried about everything that it has just . . . collapsed in my brain."
Ron nodded, his eyes glancing from the boy, who once was his own tribute, to the beautiful night sky. "I can understand that. I felt just like that when Librae won her Games, and she didn't go through half of what Olive did." He stopped, contemplating an idea as he patted Finnick's back. "Let's go down. Mags is worried. Being here won't solve anything. She's safe, Finnick. Olive's safe. You can start panicking again when she wakes up and doesn't remember us. But, for now, think about yourself. You know better than me that she wouldn't like to see you like this."
Finnick let out a snicker at his friend's encouraging words. "She wouldn't like to see me like this, huh? Ron, she'd mock me for the rest of my life if she saw me now. And, sincerely, I'd rather have that over nothing at all, which will be exactly what will happen once she opens her eyes."
"Yeah, and once she opens her eyes, who do you think she'll believe first? A crazy-looking mentor, or the person she met the day of the reaping?" Ron pointed out, his hand resting against the rail as he turned to face Finnick.
With a sigh, Finnick pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "Alright, I got your point. Let's go down before you continue blabbering whatever philosophy Librae has taught you."
On Four's floor, Mags received them with a hug. It was never easy to see the kid they had been teaching how to survive in the hospital, but she knew that Finnick's worry was way past what any of the other mentors felt for their tributes. He was like her own son. He couldn't hide anything from her, nor he tried to.
Time passed. The clock continued ticking. But no news came. By the next morning, nothing had changed. Neither at sunset. After one day. Two days. Three days passed, but no changes. Finnick hadn't dared to enter the room again. He simply lingered around the waiting room with Ron or Mags, whoever stayed behind with him, and waited for the others to tell him that, just like the day before, there were no changes.
Soon it had been five days since the last time he had seen Olive. Five days since the last time, he had the tiniest hope lingering in his heart. The last time he had made it past the waiting room's doors. At the dawn of the fifth day, there was nothing. No hope. No change. Just another uneventful day overwhelmed by worry and fear.
Noon arrived at the hospital way sooner than expected. Time in the hospital always passed differently from outside. However, it typically felt way slower, not quicker. Finnick and Ron, who had stayed behind that day, didn't realise the time until Piscia made it through the doors. Her make-up couldn't hide her worry. Much less the fact that the outfits she had been wearing so far were as simple and quick to put on as a Capitol person could get.
"Any changes?" She asked. Her voice, though hopeful, carried a sad tone, fearing the most likely answer.
"Are there ever?" Finnick muttered, his eyes glued to a book he had begun reading since he found it scattered around in the room. It was a tale. Something for kids, probably. However, anything would be better than to let his mind wander through thoughts. Olive had been right all along. No one should be left alone to their own thoughts. It could destroy them slowly, silently, and painfully.
"Doctors say she might wake up today, but . . ." Ron trailed off, his eyes turning to glance at Finnick, who didn't even raise his to acknowledge anyone. "They have said that before. It's difficult to believe them now."
"Well, better believe them," a voice claimed from the swinging doors. It was Librae, her eyes sparkling slightly. A wide grin played across her lips as all eyes landed on her. "She's awake. Olive opened her eyes. Mags stayed behind to look after her."
Ron and Finnick got up from their seats, Piscia joining them to get any more information Librae could have. There was nothing. The moment Olive had opened her eyes, she had immediately come to tell them.
With a relieved smile, she glanced at Finnick and motioned towards the doors with her head. "I think it's time for you to pluck up some courage. She'll probably listen to someone of her age before she listens to Ron or me."
He doubted for a second; the doors appearing far more menacing than days before. It took a few seconds, and good mental self-reprimanding, to get himself walking through them. The door, once again, was left ajar, letting him see inside the room.
Mags sat at the armchair, shielding Olive's face from Finnick's sight. His thoughts seemed to shut off as he took a step forward. Her arm was still being injected with medicine. He took another step. There were voices, and no tubes seemed to be over her head, which was a good sign. Another step. His hand rested on the door, opening it without trying to do much noise. It didn't work. Now, Mags and Olive had their eyes on him.
He could see her now. She looked confused, almost frightened. Her eyes locked with his as he kept getting closer. He couldn't form a single sound. No comment, greeting, or sarcastic remark. He couldn't act as he should. Everything in his mind had completely shut off. Only her distressed look kept him from hugging her, from completely breaking down in front of her.
It wasn't the time to do that. He knew that perfectly well. He needed to explain everything to her. Resume three weeks of horrors, pain, and suffering. His lips parted, ready to explain everything, but no sound left them. Before he could try again, Olive got ahead of him, her voice raspy and tired.
"Finnick Odair?" She called, her expression revealing her confusion. She was trying to understand his presence, to grasp many things, most of which she'd take a while to accept. "Am I—" She took a deep breath, a single tear rolling down her cheek, probably due to the impotence and fear. "Am I really in the Capitol?"
"Yes," Finnick answered simply, trying to make sure she didn't hear his voice breaking. He looked away for a second, his hand rubbing his chin while taking a deep breath in. With his eyes looking back at Olive's, he let out a sigh and added. "But you'll be back home soon. I can promise you that much."
She stayed silent for a second. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on Mags, then his, trying to figure out whether she should believe him. She blinked a few times. Her lips parted, the hint of a smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. "What do I have to do?"
Finnick was taken aback. For a second, just for a split second, she sounded like the girl he knew. To the Olive he knew. The daring, almost reckless girl that would do anything to see her family again.
He smiled. The first authentic smile he had shown in weeks. "Just hear us out, play your part, and you'll be back to your family in no time."