[sylvanSpider]

“I'm just having a hard time believing that someone could that to his own men, but then, after what you told me, I wouldn't but fuckin' anything past him,” Aren muttered, scratching the back of his head. “I'll be there. Give me time to eat and bathe though. Can't be smelling too much like nature or they'll know and I've no intention on getting either of us in trouble,” Aren added. “I can't miss check in anyway. Missed rations are missed meals, and missed meals aren't good for the brain.”

> > >

Check-in was the same shit it always was. Aren found his place in line and bowed his head to avoid conversation with anyone. He'd changed clothes since coming down, if only to be sure that there were no spores clinging to his garments. The woman in charge of getting the proper signatures saw Aren and smiled wide, instantly deflating when she realized Serj was not going to be there. She'd been sweet on Serj toward the end of his life, and Aren suspected that his death affected her even more than it had him. “How are you holding up, Aren?”

“Same shit, different day, right? I appreciate you asking though. How are you holding up, Celia?” Aren tried to keep any animosity out of his voice. She didn't know what Serj was really like; she couldn't be faulted. She'd always treated Aren really well, and even snuck him extra rations when she thought she could get away with it.

“Same shit different day,” she said with a small smile, echoing his words back to him, “I miss him as much as I'm sure only you could understand. You know, he was proud of you. He might not have shown it much, but he loved you. Here's your rations for the day,” here, she leaned forward and whispered, “With a little extra. Enjoy the candy, it's not often we get a lot of that in.”

Aren gave her one of his rare and fleeting smiles, “Thanks, Celia. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, same time.”

> > >

Aren made his way to the area that the men showered, got clean as quickly as he could, returned in time to look into his bag of rations to see the array of canned goods he received for the day, chose one, wolfed it down, grabbed a stack of books from when he first started reading, and bolted to the roof.