Johanna, being me, is not usually one for self-pity and whinging and all that sort of stuff. But every now and again, there's nothing like a good mope. Not that Tres would understand that, of course...
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You Just Don't Get It
"Sister Johanna Sinclair."
The auburn-haired nun didn't look up from where she was half-slouched over one of the garden tables, her arms resting on the tabletop and her chin on her wrists. Beside her hand was a half-empty bottle, and the glass next to it still held at least an inch of deep red wine.
"What?"
"What are you doing outside?"
"I'm just sitting, is there a Vatican regulation against it?" she replied absently, her eyes vaguely unfocused as she gazed off into the distance.
"No, but normally one does not sit outside when it is raining."
Without looking at him, she lifted one of her hands to point over her head. "In case you didn't notice, Father Tres, the table has an umbrella. I'm not exactly getting soaked out here unless the wind kicks up."
That much was true, and for the most part, the rain was limited to a slow but steady drizzle, and heavy enough that anyone who had to go outside tended to hurry.
Tres stood there for a few moments, apparently considering her words, and Johanna put her other hand back under her chin and seemed lost in thought once again. It had become something of a habit for her when she needed some time to think to escape from her room in the dormitory. That way, her room would not become mentally associated with brooding, and she took care to vary her location when she needed to think. Sometimes it was the AX library, other times it was the hedge maze, this time it was the garden patio where in more pleasant weather, she, Esther, Kate, and Caterina would occasionally sit and gossip over lunch and tea.
"What are you thinking about?"
At that, she actually blinked and looked up at the cyborg priest.
"Huh?"
"What are you thinking about?" he repeated, with the exact same lack of inflection as the first time he'd asked her.
"What do you care?"
"Incorrect assessment - it is not possible for me to 'care'. Question was based upon your current state compared to previous comparable situations."
The nun's hazel eyes slowly narrowed as she began to catch the implications of Tres' statement. "Comparison?"
"Since your arrival ten months, two weeks, and five days ago, ongoing behaviour analysis indicates that your current mood indicates emotional difficulty."
Johanna sat up straight at that and stared at him, aghast.
"'Ongoing behaviour analysis'? What the hell, have you been studying me like some kind of lab rat these last few months?"
"Behaviour analysis was initiated by order of the Duchess of Milan, as part of psychological assessment of AX member Sister Johanna Sinclair."
"But what for?" The Sister was absolutely astonished that she had apparently been under observation since her arrival at the Vatican, even though it was a perfectly legitimate thing to do. After all, having a woman from the twentieth century materialize in the heart of the Catholic Church was hardly a casual event, but on some level it rankled Johanna, thinking that Caterina could have at least told her about it after she'd been with the AX for this length of time.
Tres had remained standing the entire time, ignoring Johanna's outburst. "Motivation for the order was not provided."
Johanna groaned and rested her forehead on her wrists, hiding her face. "This is all I need - psychoanalysis from a cyborg."
"Negative - it is not my task to provide interpretation of this analysis, only information."
"Go away, Tres," she sighed, her voice muffled against the table.
"Negative - an answer to my previous inquiry has not yet been provided. What are you thinking about?"
"Are you going to add that to your psychological assessment?"
"Positive."
He heard her sigh, then she lifted her head and ran her hands over her face in a weary gesture.
"I'm thinking about whether I'm ever going to get home," she said at last, after being quiet so long that Tres had begun to wonder if she was even going to answer. "I'm thinking about what's been happening in my own time since I've been gone. I'm thinking that I'm worried about the Rosencreutz Order and what their possible plans are for me. I'm thinking about how to avoid stomping Sister Esther's feelings into the ground just because I happen to be friends with a man she's got a crush on. I'm thinking about how it'd be tempting to throw all caution to the winds and have a wild affair with Father Leon. I'm thinking that I should shoot myself for even thinking that. And I'm thinking that I'm going to go insane because there's no one I can tell any of this to."
Tres frowned slightly once he was certain that the Sister had stopped talking. "Does your recitation not qualify as 'telling someone' about these thoughts?"
Johanna gave a short, bitter laugh. "Telling you doesn't count, Father Tres. You just don't get any of this. Telling you is like talking to myself."
The priest considered her words for a few minutes as Johanna went back to staring morosely at the rain. On some level, she was right - having no frame of reference for any of the problems she'd mentioned, not to mention the fact that he wasn't human to begin with, it wasn't exactly possible for him to provide her with advice or consolation.
"So now you have something new to report to her Eminence about me. I hope you're satisfied, Father Tres."
"Negative - satisfaction is irrelevant."
She groaned again. "I should have known you were going to say that."
Tres frowned again, but turned to go, intending to go to Cardinal Caterina's office and report this latest incident to her.
"Inquiry - what is wrong with your eyes?"
"Nothing, just some rain blown into my face. That's all."
From the stiffness of her posture and the closed expression on her face, he could tell that their conversation was over, so he left.
However, even after he left Caterina's office, Tres was never quite able to figure out why Johanna had not wanted to admit that she was crying.