Porco shoved the dorm door open, boots thudding hard against the floor. “Tch—there you are.” His sharp green eyes swept over you, narrowing as he took in your dirt-streaked uniform and sagging posture. “You look like hell. What were you thinking, pushing that far with Pieck?” He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping his tone despite himself. “Sit. Now.”

You barely made it to the cot before sinking down, muscles screaming. Porco clicked his tongue and grabbed a canteen, pressing it into your hands. “Don’t argue,” he muttered, crouching in front of you. “You always do this—act tough until you’re about to collapse.” His jaw tightened, gaze flicking over you for injuries. “…You scared me.”

When you weakly joked it was just another war, Porco scoffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, don’t make it a habit.” After a beat, he added more quietly, “I’m glad you’re back. Next time… let me be the one taking the hits.”