Sweet Dreams
Summary: The brief self-reflection of the Rookie - alone in a Covenant occupied city, and all he can think of is catnaps.
Notes: I am so bored right now. Supposed to be doing my German project; don't give an FF. So there.
Romeo, being the asshat that he is, constantly complained about Rookie's slumber habits. At first it got under the younger OSTD's skin - until he learned to just ignore the other Marine. Now that Romeo is kicking him awake with the fond call of 'Wake up, Buttercup!', Rookie can't help but scowl. His momentary annoyance is forgotten in the events that follow, and he does not remember it again until he is aiming at enemy Brutes with an alien sniper rifle.
One moment, he's a lethal death-machine out for justice on behalf of New Mombasa and Earth and Humanity - the next, he's a yawning wreck. The weariness plows out of nowhere, hitting him like a train and flattening him until he's reclining up against the concrete, yawn after yawn hitting him in quick succession. He can't help it - Rookie loves to sleep.
He catches naps where ever he can, in between drops and missions and when everyone else is taking breaks - he sleeps. It's a lovely thing that cuts him off from this hideous reality - no Covenant, no team members to get ripped apart, no fights, no weapons, no battlefields. New Jerusalem never happened in his mind. Harvest, Reach, the whole damn war doesn't exist up there. Just himself when he has dreams and, more often, no dreams at all. It's a relief, and a burden, knowing that he has to go back to reality in just a few short minutes.
Rookie, however, never lets his sleeping habits interfere with his duty. He's rigid and extremely disciplined in battle, never asking for a break, never slipping away for a illicit affair with a pillow. This is why his sudden sleepiness is alarming - it is completely unusual. The ODST pulls himself together, finishes sniping, and moves further into the bowels of a ruined New Mombasa.
He can sleep when the job is done. But when is the job ever done? When? When does the war end, when does he get to go home to Luna, greet people who are dead, smile at those long gone? And then Rookie realizes the price for his slumber - life goes on while he is asleep, missing it all. He can't stop himself from it, but he wishes he could. Can he? No, no. It is what it is. And another thing - the job is never done. Even if the war is won, there will always be someone new to fight, some threat to quell. Danger is great for Humans - it comes from all directions, from every availible outlet, as if the universe is dead set against human existence.
Did the Forerunners have to put up with this bullshit? Probably, Rookie muses. He's still moving, deeper and deeper, looking for clues - anything, anything at all! - to point him in the right direction. He finds nothing save a helmet, a ruined sniper rifle, some other meaningless objects and a few hazy-sounding COMM transmissions. But somehow he pieces it all together, taking as many completely random guesses as meaningless ones. Success is bittersweet; New Mombasa is glassed as Dare and his ODST team escape into space with a valuable asset. The mega city is reduced to less than ashes at the hands of Humanity's worst enemy so far. Not surprisingly, it hurts.
Rookie isn't from Earth, but he recognizes the importance of it. And for some reason, the night he spent traisping around on New Mombasa's faintly illuminated and ultimately beautiful yet ruined streets makes him feel a dedication to it. He's taken cover behind its buildings and fought in its intersections, threw grenades and battled aliens and won.
He's leaving it, and it makes the Marine feel like he's betraying something less like a city and more like a person. Something behind his breastbone that's right below his lungs but not quite his stomach beats with painful throbs. It might be his heart, but he never paid attention in Health class. Rookie licks dry lips as his eyes scan over the beautiful and deserted buildings one last time before he retreats inside the Phantom.
He can sleep for now, but tomorrow he'll have to fight again. And the day after that, and the day after that. There was a certain thrill and a certain revenge in the thought, but this war was no picnic. Humanity has a way to go - after all, when the war is over, everyone could have sweet dreams again. Even Rookie.
hnnngh I'm wasting so much time.