Chapter Text
Despite only being gone for a day or two, he could already feel how much despair has accumulated over the base while he was out.
Seems his squad has been up to no good, with the way that every soldier around stops to look at him.
Outside squad four’s tent is Andrew, sparring. He feels a twinge of proudness but his expression shows nothing. Not even acknowledging the two soldiers as he walks into the tent.
They seemed to have been sulking when he arrived. Not even starting fights amongst themselves. The atmosphere almost grim before he says,
“I’ve returned.”
And suddenly, they’re hopping upand coming over, spouting acknowledgements or staying silent otherwise. Andrew gripping his pant leg with his swollen eye even as his head is roughly pulled back by Rem.
Yeah, he wouldn’t trade this for strength. If every death was caused by a wall, then every peaceful day was caused by his squad.
Not peaceful he should say, but… fun.
He hesitates for a moment before dropping his hand over Rem’s on their youngest’s head, pulling so his forhead rests on his hip.
Even Jaxon, who usually stays away has creeped up behind him with the usual bloodthirst warning.
Soon he’s surrounded by his squad, jabbing insults coming left and right, Andrew openly sobbing against his pant leg. Rem’s hand no longer on the kid’s head but on his shoulder.
He’s stuck in place, feeling as though he’d practically heard a bunch of dogs whining before he got back, now all their tails are wagging and happy.
Perhaps he should take more care of his squad, they seemed to doubt his ability to stay alive… not that it’s a ‘problem’ necessarily, at least not to him.
Sparring may help marginally but they still think of him as someone who is easily killable, any time before that first regression and they would’ve been correct, but it doesn’t seem to be as reassuring as when he is simply in their line of sight.
What a bunch of mother hens.
He shakes them all off and doesthe only thing that comes to mind, dragging the cots together and grabbing a blanket before stripping out of his gear, laying in the middle of the beds he’d pulled together.
Ignoring all the muttering and loud questions he waits, until they’re silent and doubting his sanity most likely.
Then he speaks.
“Come, it is almost nightfall.”
The effect is immediate, with the way they scramble to get onto the mass cot.
There’s a bit of fighting but a simple huff of breath ir glare from Enkrid is enough for them to grumble and settle or have an impromptu rock-paper-scissors battle and begrudgingly go to their places.
First, there’s Enkrid in the middle. Then, Rem is at his feet. Andrew has claimed the spot in front of of him, his head on his ribcage.
Audin is a piller at his back, not laying down quite yet as he says his nightly prayers, it bothers no one.
Ragna is curled as close as he can get in front of Enkrid with Andrew in the way, though they quickly find that Ragna’s thigh is a sturdy enough pillow that there is minor shuffling for Andrew to lift his head and rest it back.
Ragna sure gets clingy in moments like these, sacrificing personal space with others just to be closer.
How bold.
Jaxon is the last to get in. Krais isn’t here. So he simply sits at the head where Enkrin had purposefully left space on because Rem could get the front, Audin and Ragna at the sides, and of course the one they wanted to protect in the middle of the storm.
He’d known where everyone would end up anyways, he just wanted to let them get it out of their system before sleeping.
Enkrid glances around and decides formation is good enough, next thing he knew he was drifting to sleep, surrounded and warmed by his comrades.
Andrew’s arms over his waist, sometimes subtly squeezing as though checking for any breathing irregularities, seems they taught him how to look for hidden injuries while he was gone.
It does keep on rousing him from the precipe of sleep however so he huffs and drops his hand on Andrew’s head, oulling his hair lightly and purposefully stretching slightly to untuck the side of his shirt, there, now he can feel around all he wants without all those unnecessary squeezes pulling Enkrid away from sleep.
And it works, Shockingly, it isn’t only Andrew’s hand that he feels searching his side but Ragna and Audin’s as well.
How peculiar that they think he would hide something like an injury from them. Though, he supposes it is quite odd for him to enact the tactical nap formation. No matter how much the other squads simply call it the “cuddle pile” strategy.
And this is how he falls asleep, hands inder his shirt soon falling still as his body relaxes slowly with the release of sleep.