RAINBOW.

He nods, tries to give her as close to a smile as he can manage now when he’s terrified, and running on pure adrenaline still. At least they can try to set Birch up to keep going, even if they won’t know what happens for a good long while. That’s gotta mean something, considering everything else feels so uncertain right now. He can feel her own anxiety wafting into the air now, too, and it’s clear she’s ready to get things going now. She mentions finding Pista, and he knows that now comes the part that he had argued with Pista over for the better part of their conversation. He’s only hoping that since they can’t talk as outright here, it’ll be a little easier to convince Aldera to head on without him, and that he’ll meet them both there when he’s finished. 

It’s hard to deny it, but he can’t go yet, and he knows it would be way too suspicious and dangerous to try to accomplish everything he needs to with Aldera and Pista trailing him around for the rest of the six hours. “I want to, but I’ve got some shit I gotta take care of right now first. But I’ll see you two later, alright? I’ll come find you all after and we’ll watch tonight together, yeah?” DeeZee says, a hint of something verging on desperate in his voice, hoping she’ll get it, that she won’t try to convince him otherwise. “I won’t be long, I promise. Just, you know, find somewhere comfy, and save a seat for me.”

--

It’s hard to hear him say that he has things to take care of. She wants to tell him he’s being an idiot. That he’ll die in the process and that if he doesn’t stick around with them, he wont make it. The thought of him not being there sound unbearable and she doesn’t want to let him keep falling into this idea of martyrdom. What of all their conversations?

Unfortunately, there’s defeat too, knowing that he wouldn’t even listen even if she did beg and plea, he wouldn’t give in. So her jaw tenses, and she gets herself ready to leave. “Don’t keep us waiting too long, okay?” There was obvious worry and concern in her tone, fearful of what will come his way.

He’s not really sure, in honesty, what he can send to Birch that might end up getting him to find the rest of the tributes when they don’t even know where the hell he is in relation to them, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to put in the effort to try to give him something. That’s what Griffin said to do, after all. Last minute sponsorships to get them all set up to keep going, and keep together, so that they can pick them all up when the time comes. He’s not naive enough to think that all of them will make it that far, but he’s pretty sure none of them will stand a chance if they get pessimistic or too realistic just now. They’ve gotta hold onto the little sliver of hope. “Okay, yeah, anything to keep him safe and sound, I’m sure we can come up with something to help. Just gotta convince Coco it’s worth it,” he adds the last part mostly for show, for whoever might be listening or watching, knowing already the likelihood of her saying no is dependent on time, not on if she thinks it’s worth trying.

The other bit is even more important, though, getting Aldera the information about where to go and when. No surprise she looks shocked as hell, and he wishes he could be direct, could give her the little bit he does know in a more straightforward way, but this is all they have. DeeZee sighs, and rolls his eyes, but more at himself and his sweaty hand than at her. He takes the pen back, and tries to quickly draw an approximation of the map that’s now half sweated away. Follow that hallway and go through that door, it’s the meeting spot. Or better yet, find Pista and go with him through the kitchen. Hell, he’d have everyone go through the secret, indirect way if he had the choice, safer for them all, loud or not, as Griffin put it. 

--

“Thank you, DeeZee.” Aldera lets out a long breath, her tone serious and genuine. Of course DeeZee would do what he could to help out those his frineds loved, but that didn’t make it mean any less to her. There wasn’t a lot of hope left in her for what could be done, but she knew that most of the hope laid in Riggs, but now DeeZee was helping and maybe that would make things better.

She looks down closely as DeeZee draws the map and then scribbles more notes. So they’re leaving leaving. Getting the fuck out of here. Her stomach churns as the reality of all of this starts to settle in. She swallows hard and her knee begins to bounce anxiously. She tears the map out of the page and puts it in her pocket for safe keeping. “I should go find Pista.” She says, thinking the words are vague enough to say out loud. It would be good to be with him. “Do you want to come with?” It would be better if they were all together, right?

THE FACT THAT Aldera says nothing more about Birch tells Pista all he needs to know about exactly how she feels regarding his situation. She’s not confident at all, not optimistic about his chances, and Pista wishes he could help her, wishes he could do something for them too, but he doubts trying would amount to anything, considering how badly he’d done attempting to get help for his own mother. How much less open would those sponsors be if he came to them with requests to help someone he isn’t related to and has little to no personal connection with at all? He could try with Coco too, considering what DeeZee had said about her, but he knows she’s likely stretched thin now as well, with everything going on and DeeZee likely trying with her for his own sponsorship attempts too.

So he says nothing and simply nods, focusing on what Aldera herself had chosen to respond to, about all of them going together. He’s glad to hear her agree, glad to hear that she’s of the same mind with him about this. She recognizes the risks, knows being in a larger group ( and one with DeeZee, of all people ) might raise the likelihood of them getting caught along the way, and so does Pista, but the fear of being separated and the assurance of being together in this terrifying time is something the both of them clearly understand well. He knows that, now more than ever as she takes his hand and squeezes it.

“I see that, Aldera. I appreciate it. I’m… I’m trying my best too,” he says, squeezing her hand back and looking into her eyes, hoping she can see how hard he wants to try too. Neither of them are the most optimistic people, but right now, they can’t afford to spiral into something that they know won’t be of help to any of them. “I… do you want to find him together? Maybe we’ll run into him somewhere, and… and we can just pick him up. Then we’ll go together.”

She doesn’t want to be alone anymore. She’s far too terrified of what might happen, and what might take place, to let herself be alone. She’s worried she might be overcome with panic, and if she was alone in that, they certainly something terrible would happen to her. So when Pista offers that they go together and they find DeeZee, there’s a fraction of tension that releases from her shoulders. 

“I like that idea.” She remarks, keeping her head low. If they go together, and they find him, well, that’s just two finds trying to find the third party in their little group. It’s not suspicious, right? 

ALDERA’S WORDS RING so clearly and so true in Pista’s mind because he himself doesn’t have very many left either. And for a moment there, he wants to pull her in and hug her, show her that it doesn’t matter how few there are left when they all clearly care about each other very deeply, but in the end, he holds back instead, knowing there’s so much more they need to talk about first, to make sure of. With DeeZee having told him, and Aldera and Bandi already knowing, Harquin on her way or likely already there in the safe room, and his mother still in the Arena with her allies, Pista doesn’t have anyone else left either. In a way, he’s thankful for that. Less to think about, less to get himself twisted into knots worrying over.

“Okay. That’s good. Maybe… maybe we can wait for DeeZee, or find him, and we can all go together,” Pista says, knowing he’d be much more relieved if all three of them were with one another, despite the suspicion it would attract — if he could see them all arrive at the same time, get to safety like they have to, he’s sure he would feel a whole lot better. He says that first so he doesn’t have to think too much about the question she’d asked about his mother. He looks down for a moment, part of him clearly hopeful, so hopeful, and yet so scared of something happening at the last minute to ruin all the progress that’s been made. “But… yeah. Yeah, that’s probably what it means.” He cants his head back towards her. “And — and Birch too, of course.”

She knows that Tilsee has a much better chance than Birch, who is still all alone. If the rebels are coming to get them, surely they wont have the time to sweep the entire arena looking for lost tributes in hopes to scoop them up. She’s not optimistic, even if she has to try to be.

So she holds onto what Pista said first, the idea of them all going together. She’s ripe with stress and anxiety over this whole thing. She thinks that it’ll give her some type of comfort to all go together. But she has a feeling DeeZee would be the hardest to convince out of all of them.

“We should go all together. It’s probably not smart but going alone seems far more terrifying.” If they get lost, or they get captured, at least they’d do it together.

He feels kind of bad for how jarring his entrance clearly is, but there’s not time for apologies, and between Aldera and Pista, he needs to get them both moving now, and the best way has always been his chaos. He figures they’ll probably have a much more calm, but anxious talk after he leave Eleven anyway. Luckily, she gets with the program quick, ripping the page out of the notebook and shoving it out of sight, which at least tells him the message is loud and clear. And she plays along, too, which is even better, they can deal with both parts of this at the same time, save them both time, get everyone they need to safe sooner rather than later. 

“I was thinking we could find a way to try to get him to the big group, or even Harbor and Abe, maybe get him some supplies so he can keep going in the meantime. Whatever you think will give him the best chance. I just wanna do what I can to help now that Ten’s got no one left,” he says, and he means it, even if the words come out a little fast, a little frantic, for the subject matter. He takes the note and pen back from her, and writes quickly, his scrawl even worse as he tries to lay it all out as best as he can. Thirteen. It’s still there, a hidden rebel base or some shit. We’re supposed to meet here before time runs out, and then we’ll go pick up the tributes. They’re working on their own part of the plan. He opens his palm for Aldera to see the map Griffin drew, even if it’s smudged now from how fucking sweaty and stressed he is.

--

Whatever you think will give him the best chance. Well, he’s got shit chance regardless. Aldera can’t guarantee he’ll find someone to stick with, not all the money in the world could bring tributes together in the arena. But it’s a nice gesture. And she spends a moment thinking about what could possible do him good right now. But the gesture lands her with her lips in a thin line. “Anything, honestly. Things to keep him safe and sound. He’s got nothing so really anything is better than nothing. Food, water, shelter, whatever.” And she trusts DeeZee is able to come up with something, too. He wouldn’t set Birch up with something unhelpful.

Then she leans forward, reading over the note and she tries not to let it show on her face, or make some sort of sound to give it away just how shocked she is by the confession of Thirteen. This is a lot for the brain wrap itself around but there’s clearly urgency in the moment. There’s no time for her shock or her additional question. She just looks at the smudged lines on his hands and looks up at him before scribbling down on the notepad. What the fuck is that sweaty mess?

EVEN AS HE’S dragged, Pista follows and keeps his mouth shut, knowing what this is going to be about. He only deigns to reply once she starts talking, the two of them in the clear for now. “No,” he says, voice lowered in a whisper even as his face shows clear panic and incredulity. “No, I only just found out. I didn’t know this was going on at all.” He doubts DeeZee did too, remembering how frantic the energy was when he was explaining to him on the roof deck.

“Is there anyone else you need to talk to?” he asks, worried but also wanting to be of more use in this situation before heading down to where it’s safe once and for all. “I already spoke with Harquin, she should be there by now.” That was before he’d made another failed attempt at trying to garner sponsorships so his mother doesn’t fucking bleed out, but he’s not going to mention that anymore.

She figures that Pista hadn’t known. She doesn’t believe she would have been left in the dark if either DeeZee or Pista knew, considering how fast DeeZee told her when he came to find out. But she couldn’t help the question that spilled from her lips. Only after he answers does she force herself to reel in, in case of saying something else out of place.

right after talking to pista, eleven’s suite ( @alderapitleaf​. )

The thought of having to explain everything again somehow without actually saying any of it outright is exhausting, and knowing he’s gonna have to do it at least three more times is making him feel like he’s not going fast enough, even though it hasn’t been long at all by the time he and Pista split up again. That means that he skips the elevator and practically runs down the stairs after talking to Pista, heading towards Aldera next, hoping he’ll catch her in Eleven. Thankfully, once he gets onto Eleven’s floor, and into the suite, coming in like a fucking wrecking ball, she’s right there sitting in the common area alone, besides the Avox standing nearby. “You got time for a chat?” he asks as he comes into the room, not that he needs a real answer. They’re having this talk now, whether she has time for it or not. And without waiting for said answer, he sits down next to her, and grabs the notebook that has been sitting open on the coffee table in front of her, figuring it’s better to go a different method here, instead of risking raising suspicions by going back up to the roof immediately. No, he’ll have to wait to use that method again later, only so many times he can say he needs a cigarette in one hour. 

So he picks up the pen and flips to a random page, heart beat loud as fuck in his ears, as he tries to focus. Two birds, one stone. He starts writing before he starts talking. “My friend on my prep team, Coco––you’ve met Coco, right? Well, since Ten’s out of the running, she’s looking for places to put her money, and I was thinking maybe I could try to convince her to help Birch out,” he says, before tilting the notebook slightly so that Aldera can see what he’s written in his messy, barely legible handwriting––he never really has been able to write as well after losing his arm. Shit’s happening. We’re leaving in six hours, they had a plan this whole time.

--

She just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. Riggs seemed to have it taken care of for a little bit, so she could happily escape all the chaos in her mind and seek refuge on Eleven’s floor. Unfortunately, that solace was interrupted when the door rushes open and DeeZee nearly stumbles in. 

Aldera’s body jolts and then he’s sits beside her, grabbing her notebook and flipping to a new page. “What the fu---,” But he’s already talking and her eyes bulge and this isn’t just some warm-check in. No, there’s urgency and a mission here and her body goes flush once she reads the note. On instinct, she reaches up, hand on the notebook to grab the sheet and rip it out, shoving it in their pocket in case someone could see. Even if it is only the two of them and the Avox. “What are you talking about?” She shakes her head and blinks, “You want to help Birch how exactly? He’s all on his own.” But she reaches to take the note back out of her pocket, flattening it and following up with, leaving? to go where?

Her hands hadn’t actually stopped shaking. She didn’t think this was something that was possible, or was even happening. Sure, she knew the rebels were around, but they really had a whole escape plan? Aldera could barely keep her thoughts in order. She was stumbling around, trying to find Pista, and once she did, she grabbed him by the wrist and began to drag him somewhere that they could talk.

FOR A MOMENT there, Robyn had thought it would be a passing conversation, something quick, a question then an answer, a few short exchanges, but Aldera goes straight for it and opens up, and immediately, they feel their defenses loosening as well. They weren’t necessarily on guard because of her; rather, they were on guard to keep the stress and the heaviness of their own emotions in check. But in this moment now, watching someone they barely even known bare her fears to them has them wanting to do the same. They had meant to start approaching possible sponsors, talking to them about helping their brother, or if not Harbor, then maybe Abe, if he makes it out of that situation with the Tributes from One and Two ( and Robyn hasn’t stopped hoping and praying that he does ), but now, he can’t think to leave her be like this, when it’s clear they’re both in need of someone to talk to.

“I know what you mean,” Robyn practically sighs out, their body sagging, that façade of ‘I’m stressed, I’m busy, and I’m in a hurry’ melting away at the first proper sign of her vulnerability. “As much as I spoke with my brother too, every single day since we got here, it’s clear to me now that there were plenty of things he wasn’t telling me. Impossible to really, fully know what happened in training.” The fact that they were all locked out this year, not even allowed to watch was frustrating. Had they planned something in there? It’s not hard to think that maybe they all thought it best not to tell their teams about what really went on behind those doors, but Robyn also understands where Aldera is coming from. “I hate the waiting too. The not knowing.”

There has been so much going on in the world that she and Robyn have been participating in, it’s hard to even think that there’s a whole nothing world that Birch and the rest of them have participated in. It’s not just these mentors who have been struggling, they’re the ones in the Games.

“Maybe they’re far more prepared for this than we thought.” She looks down at her hands, which are nervously tapping on her thigh. “Or I thought, I guess. I just couldn’t see Birch as anything else than the kid I had weekly dinners with. But I guess just like me, he does what he has to do. We’re no different.”

SHE’S LOOKING TO them for affirmation of some kind, that she hadn’t simply read too much into things, and Robyn tries their best to give it to her. “They do seem to have an understanding of sorts, yes. Back there with… with Bire, from Ten, the three of them, it seemed like they…” Robyn shakes his head, obviously clueless, knowing Harbor had spoken more about other people to them. Aldera appears particularly panicked, and while Robyn obviously is too, she’s having a harder time hiding it, with the way she’s playing with her hands. They wish they could say more to reassure her. “I don’t know enough. But I do know my brother, and I know how selfless he can sometimes be.” Robyn doesn’t say that they wish Harbor wouldn’t be this time around, because they want him safe, they want him alive and ready to head to Thirteen or wherever it is they’re meant to go after this.

“I don’t doubt that he’ll try his best to help Birch out,” they add, hoping that helps, even just a little. Between the twins, Harbor has always been the better sibling, the better person. Robyn had told him as much when they reunited. Even though Harbor had thrown it back to them, they knew, know. Always have. Robyn sighs, “Neither of them are looking so good, though.”

It’s not a very good situation. Aldera is worried and she knows so many of the tributes are alone, stranded, and desperate for help. It’s going to be hard for them to have each other’s backs when so many have had to flee. She believes Robyn and what they say, that Harbor would be the kind of person to help. She knows the same would go for Birch. But they’re both looking rough. They’re both hurt and if one were to get hurt, would they be so selfless in a situation like this? It’s hard to say. She’s been in their shoes before, and she knows that it can truly change a person.

The Viewing Room, After the Confrontation (@alderapitleaf​)

He never thought that he was unaffected by the Games. That, while he never wore his heart on his sleeve like Dawn did, that he cared for each of his Tributes, carried each year’s losses with him. And maybe he did, in his own way, but it’s nothing compared to now, to seeing Harbor in the Arena, the Overgrove boy’s spear heading towards him and Wren. This feeling in him now—(this pit in his stomach, the way he feels like he’s always teetering between blind rage and inconsolable grief)—feels like it’s laying bare to him just how numbed he had allowed himself to become. How callous.

He’s not sure what to to do with that. Like he could only keep going, all these years, if he didn’t let himself see exactly what he had become. Exactly what he had lost. He’s not sure how he’s meant to go on now.

Especially not now that Harbor is alone. Without Wren, who could have been a shield. Without Birch, either, who for a moment in that Arena looked like—something. Something Twig hadn’t seen coming. And that is what has him seeking out Aldera, though he can’t say he ever has before. “It looks like we might be allies now, you and I. I confess it comes as something of a surprise to me, otherwise I would have—done more, sooner.” 

--

Why did everything have to feel so jarring here? It was like everyone moment was whiplash and she couldn’t get her shit together. But having to watch Birch in the Quell with Riggs, their jaws always clenched and their bodies always on the verge of falling apart, was not the best way to be to hold themselves together.

As she’s pacing, wondering what she’s going to do about Birch and his terrible state, not to mention being utterly alone, she sees Twig approach. Not the man she was expecting, or one she’s even all that familiar with but she won’t turn him down. She stands straighter, her hands still shaking. “I had no idea either.”

Her hand reaches up to push back her large curls, and she lets out a long breath. “Birch has never been one for secrets I have no idea why he didn’t think to share his friends.”

THEY’VE A LIST of names in their head, people to go to, to speak to after seeing what had happened to Harbor and the others, and they’re so focused on this as they walk that it catches them off guard when Aldera approaches. The question doesn’t register right away, their mind having been too lost in a sea of connections, both old and new, in the possibility of getting their parents to do something for once, at long last, that all they really manage to say for a moment is, “Oh, I — ” They cut themself off, eyes widening slightly, briefly before they shake their head. Neither of them have ever wandered into each other’s circles before, having never before seen much reason to approach at all, but at this point, Robyn isn’t surprised that people who have never spoken in the past are coming to one another now.

It’s a relief that Aldera clarifies, but Robyn had had a sense that she was referring to this anyway, with no other connection between them to speak of beyond their two Tributes. More than Tributes, of course, but that goes without saying. “No,” Robyn says as soon as their mind clears enough to respond. “No, when we communicated, he usually mentioned Wren and some of the others, but not so much Birch.” They remember feeling a little surprised to have seen a connection there too, on screen, but because of everything else that had happened since then, Robyn has had to focus on plenty other things — like making sure his brother gets the help he needs now that he’s alone and separated from everyone else. “I’m certain he brought him up once or twice, but never in any significant detail. I thought nothing of it at the time. He certainly didn’t speak of Birch as though they were close.”

So much has happened in a matter of a couple of weeks, and none of them actually knows what happens when they go into that training room. Or what had happened on the train, or at the wedding, or any other moment when everyone could interact with anyone. And Aldera doesn’t even know why she cares so much. It’s not like she truly has anything against Harbor, she knows nothing about him. But it’s something to grab onto. Something to focus onto in the midst of all her panic.

WHERE: Game room WHEN: After watching Birch & Harbor split

She’s never really known Robyn, apart from the things everyone knows about them. They absolutely were not in the same circles, and she’s pretty sure she was never interested in getting into his circles. What does she have in common with them? Needless to say, watching Birch converse with Harbor, it confused her. Birch never mentioned Harbor. What is going on there?

Hugging is off the table and Fava appreciates that. There’s no need to play soft when they should be talking about strategy.

The Girl on Fire paces aimlessly, unable to relax. It feels like it’s been ages since she sat down. How will they expect her to sleep? “I can tell you what I need,” The Games to be over; her sister safe in her arms, “but I doubt they’re gonna let that happen. Not after everything I’ve done.” She wasn’t expecting to have survivor’s guilt for those that are still alive, but here we are.

Her fingers toy with the end of the braid perched over her shoulder. She feels helpless. She feels angry. She feels responsible. “Just out of curiosity,” she baits, “how heavily guarded do you think the Gamemaker is?”

Stupid question. They’d kill her before she even thought about entering that room.

He wishes he could take the advice that he’s giving Aldera, but that’s kind of the long and short of it, when it comes down to it. They both need someone else to say these things, it’s easier somehow coming from someone else, hard to take those words for yourself and internalize them. And the rest of what she says kind of just hits that point, too. Because it’s true that patience isn’t really a thing once you’re out of your Games, your whole way of thinking having been rewired to survive, living minute by minute. But they’ve got a hell of a lot of victors around who have to feel that same struggle, even in different ways.

“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ truth, isn’t it?” he says letting out a low breath. He’s never really thought of it like that, but that’s probably not a surprise, since he’s always been more content at burying the trauma beneath anger than facing it. He never learned how to slow down again after his Games, never learned the patience, or how to fucking cope with any of it. That’s maybe one big reason he admires Aldera so much, she did it. She got past those distractions, started learning how to do just that, no matter how fucking impossible he knows it feels. “I’ve never really thought about it like that, but you’re right. They fucked us up in a matter of minutes, and we’ll be dealing with the aftermath forever. It’s hard to slow down, be patient. But, as fucked as it is, at least we’ve got plenty of people who understand feeling like that. We gotta help each other through it, and be willing to take that help, right? It’s like you told me yesterday.”

IT’S NICE TO hear Aldera recognizing the good in Riggs, and in their partnership as co-Mentors in Eleven. They’ve had it rough, not just because of their treatment here in the Capitol, but because of the delicate situation back home too, and that’s all the more reason to stick together, to find ways to move past how they’re seen here and show everyone they’re worth more than what people think they are. “I’m glad that you do now,” Pista says with a slight smile, watching her as she looks down at her hands. He’s certain they’ll do good and find a way to help Birch — just as certain as he is that Aldera might get a few pointers from Twelve’s older Mentor if she tried asking; what he’d managed to accomplish last year, after seasons of inaction, was no joke. “I won’t stop you from talking to Griffin, though; guy might have nuggets of wisdom somewhere in there.”

He sighs after that, knowing he’ll have to address her question about plans next. It was nice to distract himself with talk of Eleven and older Mentors, but distractions don’t change the fact that he’s still got a wounded mother in that arena to think about. “As for me… Well. I need to ask around. But I’m also waiting to see if Darby can do something about it first, being a nurse and all.” The truth is that Pista doesn’t know how much of a chance he’ll have with the sponsors at all, so if there’s a way to rely on Darby in the arena first, then he’ll do that before putting himself out there. He doesn’t want to risk sending them things they don’t need either. And who knows what’ll happen in the next few hours? Waiting like this for something to go horribly wrong is agonizing.

He gets it way too well. Hell, he probably shouldn’t be the one giving her this sort of talk, when it’s clear as day how much he can’t take that advice easily himself. Just yesterday, he was on the verge of giving up entirely, everything feeling so pointless when he can only seem to do more harm than good, when the Capitol knows everything, and it all feels hopeless because of it. But her words had made him want to try for the people he cares about, despite his fears, because they have to keep trying, have to keep fighting.

“You know I understand, Aldera. It’s so fucked up that we have to keep going, when it all feels hopeless, when we’re watching the people we love die, but what’s it all been for if we give up now? Even if it just makes the slightest difference for someone that we keep going, that counts for something, right?” DeeZee says, emphatically. And it kind of feels like he’s saying it as much to her as he is to himself, because they both need that reminder right now. But maybe just as much as that, they both also need a reminder that it’s not just understandable, but okay to feel like they’re falling apart. “You were right yesterday, when you said things can coexist. We can be angry, and so tired we need a break, all at once. We’d be fuckin’ Capitol robots if we weren’t exhausted and close to breaking, at this point. What matters is that it’s motivation instead of defeat, you know?”

--

She doesn’t have to put herself together, DeeZee has made that point clear, thankfully. Aldera doesn’t have to be perfectly arranged once again to be the upstanding friend and ally is all of this bullshit. She’s tired, and heartbroken, and angry. And that’s the way it’s going to be for a long time, she knows this. She has to have more patience with herself. 

“I got so used to immediate results for long term problems, you know.” She turns her head to look at her friend. “You go in the Games and you experience a lifetime of situations in a matter of a couple days and you know, we talk about the pain over the things we experienced but no one ever talks about how hard it is to have to learn again to slow down. Most things to do not happen in a matter of moments. I struggle with that--- the patience of it all.” She looks down, rubbing her thumb into her index finger. “And for the pain that only takes a few seconds to hurt, it takes a lifetime to deal. That, I think, I find hardest of all.”