"Spartans are Family"
The bubbling stream nearby helped cover the sound of their breathing but forced John and Kelly to listen intently for footsteps or rustling of leafs in the thick jungle. Two days into the drill, heat, and hunger left its toll on both young minds.
"North and west clear," came Kelly's quick brief.
John nodded, "Confirmed. South and east clear." John's face—thin, hollow, firm—lacked the convention of certainty Kelly usually saw. "10 minute rest."
Kelly sat with her back against a tree and faced the stream, taze gun out in front and ready. John hunched down a few steps away, gaze on the ground. Silence suspended in the air like fruit bats resting, heavy from a long nights feast. The brown earth tugged at John's mind. The smell from the eucalyptus flowers sent him back before Reach. "989 days," he whispered, "do you remember any of them?"
Kelly turned slightly and blinked. John, usually precise on missions, never voiced information not vital. She asked, "Who do you mean?"
"My mother always kept her hair back. Straight brown hair kept tied. My father used to run his hands through it when she stood at the stove." A warm breeze swayed the leaves above their heads. "She would smile with her whole face: long, slender nose, red lips, and large brown eyes."
Kelly breathed in and out four times, "John…don't," she asked. "Stay focused."
"989 days and that is the only picture I have left," John's voice rose just slightly, an almost scream for him. "And for what?"
"We are protectors. Forget what they said about us being special or chosen or vital for the UNSC." Kelly spoke each word specifically and carefully. "No, we are protectors of those same memories. In Fred or Sam or Linda and everyone one of us."
John thought of his team mates, his friends. He remembered more than two years of training and working together: Fred and John lifting Sam out of a pit; Linda's keen eyes stopping John short of a trip wire; Kelly springing ahead and back to scout. Each member worked to better the whole group; protecting. John knew this to be true. "Yes," he spoke, "But not family. Taken from our families. Thrown together in training. Protectors until the last. Just not for our families."
A small, black and yellow bird landed a few trees down. Kelly's eyes tracked it but nothing else moved. "Family. What is family?" She spoke slowly, never wavering from the bird which sat preening itself. "One person caring for another person. Meeting needs without repayment. You want love?" The bird hopped closer and pecked at the ground. "The Roman soldiers Déjà teaches about know love: to die for a fellow soldier. That love fills our entire group." A slight shift in the wind caused the bird to fly off. Kelly continued, "You want family? Look at Linda and protect her. Follow Fred and keep him safe." Kelly turned and looked at John, "We are family. Work not to lose us."
John wouldn't cry: he had done that for his mother and father. He soaked up Kelly's words and nodded his head. "Rest is over. Let's move out. I'll take point."