Tomorrow (Chapter 1)

Bernie’s P.o.V

Only for them.
That’s the phrase that has been my mantra for the last few hours; whenever I start second guessing myself about getting on this boat, I repeat it, over and over and over. In the middle of the ocean is about the last place I want to be right now, but if it gives me the chance to see them all again-Marcus, Dom and the rest- so be it.
The war was over. It was difficult to try to imagine the meaning of those words, but those electric blue shockwaves that killed the grubs on contact a few days ago held no room for doubt that Marcus’s dad had done something right. Still, the very thought of it was still a little less then surreal; 18 years of fighting the bastards, and it took less then a day to finally finish them off.
We got the call from Marcus only yesterday, and we hadn’t lost any time in leaving for Azura as soon as possible. I had tried my best to convince Vic to let us ride via King Raven, but to him, boat seemed to be a more logical choice. Usually, I would have argued my points further with the old tosser, but we had both heard something in Marcus’s voice that didn’t sit right, which only wanted me to get there sooner.
Something was wrong. Maybe it was the fact that we had only spoken to Fenix, or maybe it was because there was something in his voice that spelled out trouble once you heard it. I tried not to picture one of them…dead, but right now, that seemed like the only reason Marcus wouldn’t tell me what had happened over the radio.
The boat rocked under another massive wave, and I found myself involuntarily clutching the armrests of the chair I’m sitting in. A quick glance around reveals the interior of a really old boat, my travel quarters for most of our ride.
Only for them.
Sod it. Might as well go up on deck and see how far along we are, and that way, I could catch a glimpse of dry land sooner.  Hell, Vic might even be free for a quick chat, although I wasn’t counting on it. Ever since we got the news Prescott was dead, Victor Hoffman had become the household name in COG authority, or at least in Anvagard. Civs and soldiers alike were constantly turning to him for leadership, and since then, he had hardly a spare moment of free time.
The sunlight poured in through the open door as I trudged up the steps; a much simpler task without full armor on.
Once outside, it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight, the scene laid out before me.
The deck was bustling with activity, people running around like chickens without their heads while getting ready to settle in on Azura. I caught sight of Vic near the front of the boat, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him try to have three different conversations with three different people at once. Our eyes met, and he waved me over, like he just found his escape route. I resist the urge to grab the side rail with both hands while making my way towards him, nudging my shoulder on numerous occasions with several people on the crowded deck.
Halfway over, a familiar bark meets my ears, and my pissy attitude brightens ever so slightly as Mac bounds towards me, if not so fast as he used to. The poor sod is getting up there in years, but that didn’t mean I was going to leave him behind. He’s far too valuable to leave in the hands of whoever was in charge back home, and besides, it would be too fun to see Baird’s face once he realized I brought his best friend along.
The thought of Damon made my heart sink as I knelt down to pet Mac, who whined with contentment as I scratched behind his ears. What if I never saw him again? What if that annoyingly lovable blonde somehow hadn’t made it? Baird never struck me as the dying type, but then again, none of Delta did.
With Mac now at my side, I finished crossing the deck, where Vic looked at me with impatience, the crowd of people around him still suffocating him with questions.
“All right folks, I need a word with sergeant Mataki.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the tidal waves of inquisitions. The blatant authority in his tone is still enough to want to make me stand at attention, and I can tell that the group of people feels the same. With unspoken agreement, they all make their way over to the far side of the boat, leaving me and Vic by ourselves, save for one loyal dog who stayed diligently by my feet.
“I’m sitting there, thinking I’d never get out of that, and you stopped to pet the mutt.” He gestures to Mac with a tilt of his head, speaking in that gruff tone that I remember from years ago. I guess some things never change.
“You’re just jealous his arthritis has been getting him more attention.” I reply with a smug grin. I can hear the dog’s tail thumping on the worn wooden boards.
“Yeah, his arthritis has also been getting him my side of the bed.” He scoffed back, but went as far as giving Mac a good natured pat on the head, which I appreciate.  
“How you holding up Bernie?” he finally asks me a serious question, offering me a half smile while placing a hand on my shoulder. He knows how much I hate the water, so it’s a rhetorical question. What does he want me to say? I’m doing badly, or I’m doing really badly.
Only for them.
The phrase plays subconsciously in my head while I return the smile, trying to think of how to respond. In the end, I opt for a shrug, hoping that will cover enough ground for him to realize that I don’t want to talk about anything relatively wet. He doesn’t catch on.
“That bad huh? You defiantly don’t seem like yourself.” He always knows how I’m feeling, no matter what.
“Look,” I start, my eyes drifting down to the floorboards. “The sooner I get out of this giant bath tub, the sooner I can go back to being my cheerful, happy-go-lucky self, yeah?” We both fall silent, and the sound of waves permeates my hearing; reminding me…taunting me, about the fact that I’m stuck in the middle of the ocean.
“I’m not talking about the water, Bernie.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I suddenly find myself needing to be alone, moving away from Victor and quickly walking over to the stern of the boat, Mac close at my heels. The waves turn into a fine mist as they splash against the wooden siding, moistening my face as I lean against the rail and look off into the distance.
Someone’s gone.
There is no doubt in my mind that one of my boys or girls won’t be waiting for us on that pier, and its breaking my heart. I know that things like this shouldn’t bother me as much as they still do, but what can I say? Even after soldiering on all these years and pretending like nothing hurts you anymore, old habits still die hard.
It just doesn’t seem right. We had only just seen them a few days ago; real, and healthy, and alive-Someone places a firm hand on my hip, breaking my train of thought, and immediately, 63 years of instincts tell me to deck the sod who thought he could get away with it. I get as far as balling my hands into fists and turning on my heel before facing Victor, his massive frame as close as ever. All the morbid, downcast thoughts that had just been playing through my head are reflected in those big, gray eyes of his, and I instantly couldn’t help but let my surprised expression wear down, replaced by a half hearted smile while I rested my hand atop his.
Bloody hell Mataki, when did you get so soft?
Again, we both remain silent, but I know our thoughts were the same as I watched the grayish clouds in the sky turn into a fluffy, clean white that I hadn’t seen in years. We were getting closer to land, but part of me didn’t want to know what was waiting for us at that hotel.