Melvin smirked without looking up. “Better than Ramadi?”
“Barely.” Marcus dropped a duffel beside a chair and grabbed water from the cooler. “At least I knew what to expect there.” Marcus watched him fold another shirt. “You always this precise?”
“Helps me think.”
Marcus took a sip. “Mac used to do the same thing. Only instead of folding, it was pacing and cursing.”
Melvin chuckled. “He still paces.”
“Not as much since you got here.” That landed heavier than Marcus probably intended. Machines hummed through the pause.
“I’ve been watching,” Marcus said. “Not in a creepy way. Just reading the room. The platoon. Him.”
Melvin looked up. Marcus’s expression stayed relaxed, but his eyes were sharp.
“And?” Melvin asked.
Marcus shrugged. “Feels steadier. Not perfect. But grounded. Like he’s not carrying it alone anymore.”
He leaned forward slightly. “You matter to him. That’s obvious.”
Melvin’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
Marcus nodded once. “Whatever this is between you two, I’m not here to question it. I’m here to make sure nobody screws it up.”
“Good,” Melvin said. “Because I’m not letting that happen either.”
They held each other’s gaze a moment. Then Marcus grinned. “Well damn. You do have a backbone.”
Melvin laughed. “You always like this?”
“Only with people I respect.”
Melvin stacked the last folded shirt in the bin. Marcus stood.
“You’re alright, Hayes.”
“You too, Crawford.”
At the tent flap Marcus glanced back. “Heads up. Mac folds like shit. You’ll be doing his laundry until we rotate out.”
Melvin grinned. “Good thing I’m already here.”
Marcus laughed and ducked back out into the heat.
By evening the base had quieted. Melvin sat alone in a side room near the TOC, the glow of a field laptop the only light. He adjusted the webcam and hit Connect. Pixelation. Stuttering audio. Then his sister’s face filled the screen.
“’Bout time,” she teased, lifting a chipped mug. “I thought you forgot your favorite sister.”
“You’re my only sister.”
“Exactly.” She leaned closer. “You look skinnier.”
“I look the same.”
“Mmhmm. That uniform doesn’t hide worry.” Local news murmured behind her. A pan clanged on a burner.
“You sleeping?” she asked.
