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If he closed his eyes, he could inhale the morning air and listen to the trill of insects and imagine he’s home. He remembers the air of Charybdis IX away from Scyllion and other loud mining towns, full of life. Down from the wharf and up the river where the water made the air damp and the vegetation softened the sound of progress. Zeta Halo’s air clings to him now. A second skin, or really a third, since he feels covered in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else.
There’s no sound of a river. Only the slow flowing water swirling in the retention pond before him and a handful of other marines. Too perfect to be natural. Too clear to pass up. It was a bathing day. Some stood guard while those who drew the first straws bathed in the cool morning mist. He’d have preferred to have gone later or maybe in the midday sun when it wasn’t so cold. But beggars can’t be choosers, a little bracing water is good for the body.
And it would help with any stray thoughts about Chief as one of their lookouts. There wasn’t anything going on between them except Fernando’s twisted hope that he was worth caring about Chief and that Chief would learn to care about himself. It didn’t matter now. It wasn’t the time.
He wasn’t the only Spartan on duty, but he drew the most eyes. Fernando almost wanted to laugh. He’d never bathed under armed guard before.
He stripped quickly a few feet from the shore and made his way into the water with little complaint. He couldn’t help the hiss at the cold but he dunked himself under the surface quickly and came up with his teeth chattering. A quick bath then.
Scrubbing himself with a rag from his supplies and some sand from the shore made him reminisce about camping. They had to make do. He tried not to wrinkle his nose in disgust as the water turned filthy around him. Others were having the same issue, if the loud calls and splashing were anything to go by. He scratched at his beard and waded a little further in to dunk himself in a cleaner spot.
He wasn’t expecting slippery metal beneath the silt and a sudden drop. He sank beneath the surface with a yelp and flailed back up clumsily. Just in time to notice the attention he attracted.
Chief was already past the shoreline and moving towards him when Fernando resurfaced and cleared his airways.
The cool water did nothing to stop the color in his cheeks as Chief nodded at him and returned to his post.
Some other crew swam up to check on him as well and he tried waving them off, but to no avail.
“Chief’s got his eye on you. Thought he was going dive in after you went down.” One marine said, grinning goodnaturedly.
“I’d hope he’d take the armor off first.” Another marine shot back.
“You're his pilot, right?”
“His pilot?”
“Yeah! One he calls in and brings us vehicles. You’re that guy.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me!” He chuckles nervously. He’s incredibly aware of how he must look like a drowned rat.
“You must know him pretty well.”
“I-I mean. He saved me? But he does that for everyone.”
“Come on guys, leave the pilot alone. We got a few minutes left before we’re out and some of you look as bad as you did before getting in.”
That gets the small crowd to disperse and Fernando breathes a sigh of relief. Until he realizes there’s one last hanger-on. It’s some young ensign type, barely had any weapons training before it all went to hell.
“What’s he like?” He nods to Chief and Fernando’s heart speeds up. “He hovers around you. It’s kind of funny watching marines follow him when he’s always following you.”
Fernando swallows. “Between you and me? Big guy’s a little shy.”
The ensign nods solemnly like he’s being trusted with top secret info. And maybe in a way he is.
He swims off to trail after his buddies and leaves Fernando still thinking about his words. Chief stayed. He always comes back, or checks in. Even when Fernando doesn’t think he’s worth it.