Untouchable

11: Recuperation

During the weeks Holly presides over the mandatory physicals the weather becomes increasingly unpleasant. Heavy snow and sleet take turns pelting anyone who dares to set foot outside. Everything freezes during the night, nothing seems to melt during the day, the sun stays hidden behind thick grey clouds more often than not.

The first week of overseeing the physicals is fine. Draining, but not overwhelming. As the faces of the guardsmen become a blur, however, she starts to miss her evenings with Lynch, her monotonous days trailing after him, their one-sided conversations. She starts to sleep poorly, struggles to fall asleep, tosses and turns. Wakes up wrapped around Jarvis more nights than not, clings to his pillow when he is not there. When he asks what is wrong, if she is having nightmares, she has to admit that she doesn't know. There is an unease, an internal tenseness that remains, lingers, ferments, though she cannot say why. She has everything she could ever think to ask for, more than she has ever dared dream of. And yet, and yet, and yet.

Before she has finished looking over the blonde commissar's regiment her reserves have depleted, she has no energy left for Lynch, for Jarvis. Needs silence, darkness, isolation. Struggles through the day, falters during the evening. Even after the task is done, she feels like she's barely managing to keep up with Lynch during the day, despite their uneventful routine.

Her limbs grow heavy, her mind sluggish. She tries to hold it together, tries to move naturally, be ready to act alive if Lynch turns to talk to her. Yet frequently has to excuse herself, instead wandering their living quarters, tidies up unseen. Cleans Lynch's equipment even though she is fairly certain he has already done so. Inspects rooms he is not in, though she is already intimately familiar with the layout of their quarters. Discovers no signs of intrusion, bugs, explosives.

If her unusual behavior bothers Lynch then he keeps his opinion to himself. She isn't sure if he can tell that she's tired, worn out not physically but mentally, if that is why he spends more time doing paperwork late in the evening. Doesn't engage in as many conversations with her. Allows her to retreat to her and Jarvis' bedroom earlier than usual. It might be a coincidence, but Holly appreciates it all the same.

The week that follows exists in patches and blurs, her days only coming back into focus once she begins to sleep through the night again. There is no denying that she has been a poor girlfriend, not a particularly good bodyguard either, but she is getting better. Her batteries are slowly recharging, the weariness easing its grip on her. Somehow neither of the men seem to resent this sudden weakness.

Holly sits on the hard couch in Lynch's office while he reads, writes, curses under his breath. She has already tidied up in his bedroom, the dining room, the common room, the antechamber. Is out of distractions and evening is not yet here, though her limbs are growing a little heavy, tells her that she needs to rest. With nothing left to do Holly excuses herself, goes to the drink cabinet, takes out a glass and a carafe. Brings it to the office. Lynch hasn't asked her to do so, perhaps it is a little early, but she wants to feel like she is useful, wants to apologize for her inadequacies.

"Thank you, Holly," he says, only looking up briefly to watch her pour the honey colored liquid. "No glass for yourself?"

"Not tonight, sir," she says gently, puts the cap back on the carafe.

"Mm," he acknowledges that she has spoken but barely more than that. "They're going to start insulating the barracks in a day or two. Hopefully they'll finish before the cold truly sets in."

"That is good," Holly smiles softly. Of course, she already knew. The small vessel with supplementary materials that arrived three days ago, the busy evenings, two recent fairly cordial conversations with the enormous quartermaster, Jarvis mentioning people measuring the insides of barrack 19. Still, she obliges him. Their evenings are always cut short by Jarvis, when he isn't sent off on a scouting mission or other, and now even more so by her inexplicable exhaustion. She doesn't mind putting in a little bit of extra effort for Lynch, provides him with the attentive audience he craves. He has been kind to her, in his own way.