"Down" I sign discreetly. 

My partner ignores me, still staring through the night goggles in the hopes to spot, well, anybody for that matter. Even though only a bit of them is visible, most of it their helmet even, it could be just enough for the wrong people to discover our hideout.

"So far, no one in sight" they whisper, not taking their eyes off our surroundings. 

"They probably-". I don't even finish my sentence. I know I don't even have to for my partner to understand.

"Logically, it would put them at a disadvantage if they attack us from the other side" my partner starts, finally ducking below the only window in this wreckage of a building. Their shoulder brushes against mine.

"They have no way of knowing if someone is actually in here from that side. Our infrared radiation is trapped within these walls, so no machine can discover us. Not to mention that, if they want to avoid our sight, they could be discovered by our front. That is too much risk for killing off a soldier whose survival rate is quite low in this no man's land".

"Two soldiers" I correct them.

I want to meet their eyes, but quickly realise that our body is covered from head to toe, including our faces. 

"How is your leg?", my partner changes the subject. I let out a little sigh, but answer honestly. 

"In pain". 

There is a bit of silence. It is comfortable, though. We just enjoy eachothers company, especially now in this mess of a situation. Our fate is not in our hands anymore.

"So, how high are our chances of survival?" I ask, suddenly curious.

My partner lets out a little, disgruntled noise. As if they're not happy with the news they are about to bring. 

"Well, my calculations say less than twenty percent".

"Ah" is the only thing I manage to bring out. 

That does not look good.

"Do you think the rest made it?" I ask then, trying to distract myself from what I just heard.

"You asked me this yesterday".

"I know. But maybe your vision has changed".

They let out a little laugh.

"I am not some 'all-knowing-entity'".

"Well, your knowledge is that of a computer though".

We both laugh now.

"One that currently has no access to the internet, you mean." they pause for a second, "but besides us, the rest of the squadron should have at least been able to succeed in the mission".

The inside of the ruin we're in, has gotten a little darker. It is getting night time, which also means the desert heat will leave anytime soon. My partner has also noticed, and moves closer to me. 

"I will get you home" they say. There is tenderness in their voice now. But it is gone soon after.

"You did send out a signal, right?" they then ask. It's like their whirring noises inside get louder along with their worry.

"Yes, I did" I answer confidently, hiding away the slightest doubt that starts to creep into my mind. I know I did; was the first thing I did when we found shelter.

My partner stays silent for a while. They're deep in thought.

"The nearest front is three days away, at most. Counting that with one to two days they need to make a decision and plan, it should take them five days to make it here. So, minus our one day squatting here, we have to wait four days for help. You can make it four days, right?"

I chuckle lightly.

"I should. Might have to drink my own piss on day three though".

My partner scoffs. They don't find the situation even slightly hilarious.

"Maybe get some rest. I will hold guard tonight".

It is not as if they can give me a choice in that. I simply nod, scoot closer to them, and try my best to fall asleep.

* 

*

*

I wake up to multiple curse words, and a quite panicked partner. 

"Shit shit Fuck!" they yell, and immediately start to hover over me like a dome. To cover me.

I want to joke back that they should watch their language, but I don't even get the chance. As soon as I see a highly shadowed camouflage printed shirt, a loud boom is heard, and the ground shakes wildly not long after. 

Debris tumbles on us, dust fills the air. Luckily the high collar of my shirt can filter some of it. It still makes me cough a lot, and the heavy bricks of wall do not make it easier to breathe. In the distance, shots can be heard, but all impact seems to stay distant as well.

"What happened to 'chances of attacks are low after day three'?" I ask, not only now properly awake, but also finally having processed what just happened.

Our surroundings start to move again, but the pressure on me becomes smaller. My partner is making themselves bigger to get the most of the debris off of us.

"Low chances do not equal no chances" they state. Brown liquid drips on my hand. When I look up, I see most of my partner's helmet is broken due to impact, and I am sure I can see some wires and metal chunks from inside their head, mostly covered in oil.

"You're broken" I state, a bit perplexed. I know they're not human. But it only now seems to fully sink in. Despite that, I still reach out to place my hand on their cheek.

"Very much aware of that, thanks".

When most of the debris is off of us, they look back at me, scanning me from top to bottom.

"You're okay?" they ask, but more as a statement than a real question. I just nod as answer, trying to take a good look at what exactly is going on around us.

"They came" I manage to get out, still slightly flabbergasted. Yesterday, I started to doubt whether they would try to come collect two lost soldiers who were probably dead already.

"Yes, but the enemy sent drones too! They are brought down by us now, but we don't know how soon there will be backup!"

I stay silent. My partner does not have anything to say as well. And so we wait until the jeeps approach us and carry us in. We get checked on injuries, aside from a new bandage around my leg, it is mostly my partner they try to patch up as best as possible. They don't have the correct resources to patch an android. 

We are asked multiple questions, and we answer them as best as possible. But most of what happens, seems to pass by me. I don't take it in really. So when most of it quiets down on the ride home, I finally look over my shoulder, at my partner who sits next to me.

Their face is finally visible, but most of their head is bandaged to prevent oil from leaking. They smile at me, too. I lean my head onto their shoulder.

"Now that you'll be discharged, what are you planning to do?"

I think for a bit, don't have to question myself for long.

"I'll finally be able to pick up gardening again. Maybe start a little greenhouse, too".

"I'll be sure to bring something for your garden then, when I'll be on leave".

I scoff, but calm my tone a bit, so I can match theirs from a sentence they said a few days ago.

"No, no more missions for you, I will get you home"

To reassure my statement, I take their hand in mine and meet their eyes. They don't answer me, but they don't have to. The way they raise their eyebrows slightly, and their eyes light up and their lips form a soft smile, I know their answer.

Thank you.

*

*

*

The sun is scorching on my skin, and my poor little plants too. But it was the only day this week that was suitable for weeding, so now I hope the sunscreen is spread evenly so I won't turn a lobster red.

I take a moment to sit back and watch my work so far. Two of my red lilies are in full bloom. It was the first plant they got me for my garden; now almost a decade old. 

My partner is right behind me. They lean against the oak tree that came with the house we bought. 

"It's nine years today" they state as they help me up; my leg still troubling me after all these years.

"Nine years since you got me home". They like to celebrate this day. It became an anniversary, our anniversary.

I now lean against the oak tree as well, my hand over theirs. Whereas theirs only has little wear and tear, mine has aged significantly due to the sun.

"I got you home too, you know" I state with a little smile, "Just took a little more time".

They ligtly shake their head, before giving me a little peck on my forehead.

"With you, I am always home. Even when we were on the missions".

~~~~~~~

Word count: 1475 (Desktop)