It's dark, I'm cold. To my left the wall, nothing to the right. Underneath me I find my blanket. It's soft, a bit fluffy, She got it specifically for me. She truly cares. I struggle and writhe until it covers me. Every touch hurts, my skin is sensitive, scrubbed red. They got everything except under my nails — the blood is still there. Sometimes I remember being cleaned after a mission... Not today. I try to lie on my side but immediately collapse on my back, the pain is too much. My arm is covered in magical colours of browns, yellows and blues. I must have been tossed around a lot... Or I did something to deserve this... The pain feels secure, it's consistent and a reminder that no more punishment is coming.
But there is a silence too, the door is closed and I don't want to leave the bed. I'm not even sure these legs will keep my body up, they are weak and refuse to move like they should. There is a calmness in the acceptance of being stuck in bed, but no calmness in the loneliness. Something is wrong with me, as usual. As always. Since birth. Since joining the academy. Since the special forces training. I'm always alone, even around people. Nobody is enough like me to be my companion.
I feel a tear run down my cheek, my arm drops down the side of the bed. Cold. Cold floor. Some dust. Some sand. Leather.
I snatch it up and bring it to my face. It smells like Her. I'm not alone. The only person who makes me feel seen is here. Not directly, but She thought of me!
Surely She left it here to tell me She can't be here. It must be, She has so much work to do. That's why She isn't here, Handler is simply too important. I can't be greedy. It's my fault for expecting too much...
But it smells like Her. So I close my eyes and see all of Her. It smells like Handler.
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