Cryo sleep has a way with tricking the mind. Makes you relive memories as if they were happening once more. Brings out your deepest dreams and desires and turns them into reality.

Master Chief knew, as he was dragging his bruised and aching body into that upright chamber, that while it was the best chance for his survival, the odds of waking up again. Well...

John always played against the odds. But this time the chances were slim.

Cortana knew it as well, but merely joked about it.

'Wake me if you need me.' He had told her.

And her smile had been strained as she replied, 'Of course.'

This ordeal would be hard on her too. AI's had an average lifespan of five years. If they were never found, she would go before he did.

Which is why, when the grogginess of waking amid the hiss of the cryo chamber came as a surprise to the Spartan.

Was he dreaming?

He had to be.

It wasn't to Cortana's face, to her voice, but to the striking features of an Elite masked in a space helmet.

The Arbiter.

It took all of a minute before the Chief could bring himself to ask, voice full of doubt, "...Arbiter?"

The Sanghelli himself was having trouble taking it all in. He had argued countless weeks with his higher ups about sending out a search party. When they hadn't been forthcoming, he almost resorted to treason to take the low class space craft he ended up with. The humans were using all of their manpower defending their almost lost Earth from the remnants of the Covenant, all while rebuilding what had been destroyed or glassed.

It had been specifically Johnson, who lay all tubed and weary in a hospital bed, who had gotten him the means.

'You find that SOB, and you drag his sorry ass home, you hear?' The Sergeant made him promise.

'Of course.' Thel Vadum' had acquiesced, as though this mission hadn't been doomed to failure from the beginning.

The once fallen Commander had taken his shuttle, and had put himself to sleep while he traveled through slip space, programming his ship to wake him should it detect any anomalies.

It had taken two years.

But the Arbiter had still been shocked when he was awoken to find the half of the frigate that had been left behind. It was drifting, eerily silent, against the black expanse of space. He didn't even know the Demon would still be inside there, much less be alive.

Thel's voice was so quiet it was almost nonexistent as he murmured, "Yes."

He had wanted to say more. Wanted to spill everything he had locked away during their battles. Against each other and alongside. He took the blame for losing the Chief.

He couldn't sleep nights.

Couldn't function during the day.

But it was more than guilt. As he took in that familiar missed golden visor. That hardened green armor, he knew it was so much more.

"You found me." It was meant to be a question, but came out more as a statement of fact.

If anyone had discovered him, Chief pegged it more to be the UNSC. Or some other alien life form.

But the Elites?

The Arbiter...

Flashes of vivid dreams spun through the Chief's head. Ones where they fought side by side. Ones where they were closer than they should be. Images of what never happened. What never could be.

He shook his head to dispel the thoughts like they were cobwebs.

It hadn't been the UNSC. It hadn't been any other Elite.

The *Arbiter* had found him.

And it warmed his hardened Spartan heart like nothing else could. And it puzzled him.

Then he realized, shouldn't the AI have warned him?

"Cortana?" He asked gruffly.

"She is as Johnson said she would be. She has powered down, to retain and preserve her limited lifespan and energy reserves. Hibernation, he called it."

"Sergeant Johnson?" Master Chief said incredulously. The UNSC may not have gone looking for him, but he should've realized with as tough as the Sarge was, that he wouldn't have quit on him either.

"My... Sanghelli forces were less than forthcoming in lending me assistance for the search. The UNSC were busy defending Earth. Rebuilding too. But your Sergeant is very loyal. And very... demanding." Thel replied. At the curious tilt of the Demon's head, he clarified, "He made me promise to 'drag your sorry ass back home', hmm."

Chief chuckled, "He always was a hard man, even with those that weren't still green behind the ears."

At the questioning gaze, Chief merely shook his head, "Forget it. Let's get outta here. Spent enough time in this frigate."

"Could not have said it better myself, Demon." The Arbiter commended, extending a helping hand.

Master Chief looked at the proffered assistance for a moment, glancing up that muscled arm to the face behind the Elite visor, that was observing him just as silently.

The Arbiter had given -had risked- a lot shooting off on some half-hearted search mission that should have failed. But he knew the Arbiter. Fighting alongside him, he knew him better than some underlings and his superiors. Thel never did anything with half his heart.

The fact that the Elite was out here at ALL, had *found* him, well... the Chief was touched.

"Thank you." Master Chief said quietly, conveying everything in those two words.

And the way the Arbiter jerked in shock, he knew Thel got the message.

As the Chief clasped his arm, the Sanghelli pulled him strongly to him, letting the Spartan activate his gravitational boots to stand on his own feet. When they were breaths apart, Thel admitted forcefully, "I would *never* abandon you, Demon."

There was a tense moment. Charged with everything they wouldn't say. But everything that was meant. Everything they could only hope to share.

Master Chief nodded, and started walking, the Arbiter falling in step beside him.

"Once we get back to Earth, I'm buying you a drink."

"I don't drink."

When the Spartan looked at him, the Sanghelli couldn't help but relent, "But for you, I will make that exception."

"Good." Master Chief grinned in his golden visor.

Though he couldn't see it, Thel could feel it. And he simply nodded, smiling back.