Maybe I’m being stupid. I’ve been scheduled comms in the evenings, and sleep isn’t my friend right now. Apparently, the radios need supervisionafter midnight.
My days feel off without you in them, but I’m here waiting for your next email.
I love you.
—Caiden
(Dumb Brit, who’s missing you endlessly.)
I send it and sit there for a moment, looking at the empty screen. I don’t feel relieved and I don’t feel any worse. I do know that, whatever happens, the decision was the right one, even if it’s not the easy one.
I log out and shut the computer down, let myself out of comms, and walk back to my room. When I lie down again, sleep still doesn’t come, but the circling in my head has stopped.
That’ll beenough for now.
FOUR
ARSENY
I know something is off with Niko before he says a word to me. Not because he turns into a different person; that would almost be easier. If he started sulking in corners or biting heads off for the fun of it, fine, I could work with that. I grew up with him. I know all his ugly little moods.
But this isn’t that.
He still laughs too loudly in the mess when someone says something stupid. Still throws his arm around people’s shoulders when he’s joking. Also, still pokes fun at me in front of the others because apparently being my older brother isn’t enough for him; he also needs a hobby. If anyone watched him for five minutes, they would say he’s fine.
I’ve lived with him in one form or another for most of my life.
Five minutes means nothing.
It starts with small things.
He reads the same letter twice at breakfast and doesn’t realise he’s doing it. He puts sugar in his tea and leaves it untouched until it goes cold. He misses a joke that is very obviously aimed at him, which in itself should qualify as a medical emergency.
He says he slept fine when he looks like he’s been dragged through three countries and a fistfight.
I notice because that’s how brothers work when there are only two of you and the rest of the world has spent years trying to knock bits off both.
Later, as I step out of the barracks block, pulling my gloves on, I spot Niko by the truck, talking to Petrov with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looks normal enough until Petrov says something, and Niko takes a minute to nod. Then he glances down at the cigarette and realises it’s burned nearly to the filter. He swears, flicks it away, and sees me watching. “What?” he asks.
“You nearly smoked your own fingers,” I joke, he snorts, shoving my shoulder when I get close enough.
“You’re pleasant this morning,” he mumbles.
“I know. You’re lucky I haven’t improved with age.”
“You’re not even twenty-one yet.”
“And still somehow the more mature one.” Petrov laughs and walks off before Niko can tell him to mind his own business. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and looks out across the yard instead of at me. There it is again, that tiny hitch. That half-second where he disappears somewhere else.
“Have you forgotten how to talk?” I ask.
“No.”
“Good. I was worried. You’re not bright at the best of times.”
He looks at me then, his mouth twitching slightly, but it doesn’t fully turn into a smile. “Didn’t your mother teach you any respect?”
“Our mother had bigger problems.”
