John woke at five. He started with a run, pushing himself till he couldn’t see straight. Next he set thick logs into the metal frame, the shape mirroring a mutant. He picked up his warhammer. John struck at the wooden limbs, spinning the hammer and striking again. He dodged imagined blows, striking again and again. He stopped when the logs fell to the ground, his arms burning.
John went back home and started on the weights. He moved on from the free weights to the bench press. After two dozen reps, his elbows began to buckle. “I taught you better than to work without a spotter.” Grimm appeared, lifting the barbell onto the stand. John fought the urge to apologise, fearing it would undo him. “I need a favour. You busy? No, good, with me.” Grimm started walking.
John followed Grimm out of the Rest. Through the forest and upstream. “We’re looking for rocks.” Grimm broke the silence of the last hour. “Darker the better, like this one.” He picked up a stone from the dry and rocky riverbed. “Fill that up.” He tossed John an empty pack. Quickly followed by the stone. John plucked it from the air, unamused. “Just checking.”
They spent a couple of hours collecting rocks. The only communication coming from John holding up a rock and Grimm shaking or nodding his head. John’s frustration built as the bag grew heavier.
“Are you going to tell me the point of all this?” John struck a tone he never would have used when speaking to Sentinel Grimm.
“We’re collecting rocks.” Grimm answered calmly.
“If the lesson is I need to let things go, or carrying around guilt weighs me down. Or whatever this shit is, I don't want to hear it.” He threw down the bag and sat on the ground.
“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.” Grimm gathered the spilled rocks and did up the pack. “Do you really think this Jones was out walking around and just happened to follow a random Vertibird.” Grimm sat by him. “Someone talked.”
“Why?” John tried to see Grimm’s point.
“Could be someone let something slip in the wrong bar. Could be someone sold out the others to try and save themselves. Hell, could be someone with a needle in their arm. I’ve seen junkies sell out their own families for a fix before now.” Grimm gave him answers he hadn't even considered.
“Why does it feel like I let them down?” John had felt that way since setting foot inside the Vault.
“Because you’re a good man, John. Good people see the world in black and white. Cause and effect. If something bad happens, there must be a reason, and a way to make it right. The world doesn't work that way. It’d be better if it did, but it doesn’t.” Grimm threw a rock into the stream, and another to wash out the ripples.
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“In all my years, I’ve learnt one thing above all else. It’s chaos John. One knight goes left and lives, the other goes right and dies. You start trying to plan for everything that might go wrong, you’d never leave the house in the morning. And you sure as shit wouldn’t go running towards gunfire.”
“So what, just shake it off, it’s that easy?” John threw his own rock, missing the river and clattering on the other side.
“I never said it was easy. But you go into combat like this, and it’ll be like carrying a pack full of rocks with you. We need to be sharp to put this fucker down.” Grimm started to make sense.
“So that’s why we were collecting rocks.” John found himself smiling for the first time since the attack.
“No, that just lined up really well. I actually need those rocks.” Grimm stood and offered him a hand up. He took it, and the heavy pack.
They walked through the forest. Stopping at trees with metal spigots hammered into them. The sticky sap dripping into old paint cans.
Back at the Rest, Grimm led him to the small wooden shed he’d built in his garden. John poked his head into what he thought was a tool shed, finding Robco lacquering smooth wooden seats. “Good timing, grab a brush and slap it on.
John set about slathering the walls of the shed with the sap, sealing the wood. Robco waved a heating element from an old kettle over, drying the sap faster. “What do you think, Mick?” Robco asked as Grimm inspected their work over the last hour.
“I think it’s ready, come on out.” Grimm started pulling the rocks they’d collected from the fire with a poker. He scooped them into a tin bucket and set it in the centre of the room. “Shut the door.” John did, finding the rubber seal provided a near airtight seal.
Grimm spooned water from a bucket, scented with fruit and leaves. It hit the rocks and instantly hissed into a thick cloud of steam. An hour later, the three of them sat in the steam filled shed. Wearing nothing but towels, and passing a whiskey bottle between them.
“What did you say this is called again?” John asked, sweltering in the heat and completely relaxed.
“Sauna. The Norse people have been doing this for a thousand years.” Grimm appeared through the steam long enough to pour more water on the rocks.
“Smart people.” Robco managed to say.
“The body remembers. You relax the body, you relax the mind.” Grimm shared his wisdom through the steam. John had to admit, he felt better than he had in a week. His muscles were no longer tense, his mind clear.
John stood outside the sauna, breathing the fresh air. “One last thing.” Grimm said from behind him. John didn’t hear him, or see the bucket of freezing cold water. He yelped as Grimm chucked it over him. He glared back as if he'd been the victim of a prank. “Activates the cold shock proteins, good for keeping trim.” Grimm held out another bucket. John took great pleasure in dumping it over him.
“Don’t you dare!” Robco protested, it didn’t matter.
John took a cold shower, dressed and found Rosie waiting in the bedroom. Before she could say anything he kissed her. Her smile faded quickly. “Brandon called. Jones wants a sit down with the Baron.” She looked him in the eye. “You ready for this?”
“Absolutely.” John felt his rage spark, no longer paralysed by guilt.