Unity

** Soarin's Birthday Special **

A/N: Okay so I missed his birthday by a day, it's actually April 25th. But I doubt he really cares. I've been writing about him for 180 pages at this point, I don't think my baby minds that his short story came a day late. It is actually his 13th birthday in this story but it doesn't focus on that much since no one cares. Sadface. Usually, I include pictures with these but there was no central object so... enjoy! Votes and comments are appreciated!

Soarin waited in his room, sitting in the corner and giving himself a clear view of the doorway while obstructing the view of him for anyone who entered. He rested his head against the wall in attempt to satiate his tired body. He didn't feel like moving or even doing anything. He didn't even feel like breathing anymore. The only thing he wanted to do was sleep, but if he fell asleep his parents could cause trouble.

He sighed and shifted his head to rest against the other wall, bringing his knees up to his chest. His eyes drooped and his head lolled for a second before he picked it up.

No sleeping. Not ever, he told himself. I refuse to face those dreams again.

That was the other reason he couldn't doze off. He couldn't deal with the dreams. They were persistent and had only gotten worse over the past few days. The cause was pretty obvious.

He would have turned seventeen. He should have called me from the Facility and told me about the crazy stuff that his teammates somehow got for him. But instead, all I got was an essay that I had to write by myself and a night of cleaning the house.

Soarin suddenly couldn't stand that corner anymore. The walls were crushing him and his body ached in every possible way. He stood up. He needed to go somewhere or do something right that second.

Soarin left the room and decided to go downstairs and clean something. There was always at least some object in need of cleaning in the house. He padded down the stairs and instantly found a pile of dishes in the sink. He sighed with relief and set to work washing the immediately.

The running of the water and his instant immersion in the task kept him from hearing an individual descend the stairs. He started to move his head in rhythm to a song he didn't dare to sing. He finished off a plate and set it aside, reaching for another one.

"Rolland?"

Soarin froze. His hand seized up and clenched the sponge until it was dry and his fingers were coated with white foam. He realized he wasn't breathing but he couldn't do anything about it. He slowly turned to the source of the voice.

His mother stood in the stairwell, rubbing her eyes like a child and dressed in a short white nightgown that made her appear ghostly. Her golden hair was held up in tens of little rollers. She stared at Soarin in a way she never had before.

"Rolland?" She asked again.

"No, mother it's Soarin." Soarin choked out.

"Rolland." She said with confidence this time. She approached him without her feet making a single noise and wrapped her arms around his body. "You've come home."

Soarin's head was roaring, his mind was spiraling down into the deepest crevice of his being and his body no longer responded to any kind of instruction.

"I'm not Rolland." His mouth said, barely above a whisper. "I'm Soarin, mother."

"Who?" She didn't even look at him when she delivered the death blow.

He didn't even feel pain or heartache. His eyes locked on a potted plant across the room. Its leaves were half-dead and a few crumpled brown wisps had fallen to the floor.

I'm going to have to sweep those up. Soarin's mind told him. I should have been watering the plant.

"We missed you, it's been so long. You were supposed to return in the summer, you were supposed to be back for your birthday. We didn't know what to do, your father—" His mother stopped.

She held herself against his chest. Soarin had grown bigger than his mother at that point. He was half a foot taller than she was. She breathed out a deep, contented sigh. She released him and held him at arm's' length, taking him in.

"You're exactly like I—" Her eyes widened.

She stopped as if time had been frozen. Her pupils dilated as they met his.

"What happened to your eyes!?" She wailed. "Your beautiful sapphire eyes! They're disgusting! Get out of my sight!"

She flung him away and he stumbled. Soarin looked back at her to see his mother hugging herself close and staring at the floor. His heart twisted.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. 

A/N: So this is the first time I've written about Soarin's actual home life after the death of Rolland. Some really bad stuff happens and this is the first inkling of that. I may or may not use this story as part of a dream sequence or flashback in this book or the sequel. Thank you for reading! Vote and comments are wonderful!