This fic came into fruition because of a vid that David found. Basically, there was a deleted line from the Midnight cutscene that said, "I used to love watching you sleep. Waiting for you to wake up made me feel like anything could happen next." Boom. Ficlet was born.

"I love watching you sleep." The man in front of her doesn't stir, but Cortana doesn't mind. He's worked so hard for so long, there's no question he's exhausted.

"Waiting for you to wake up makes me feel like anything could happen next." She sits down, crossing her legs. Her eyes don't move away from John.

She closes her eyes as dozens -thousands!- of possibilities race through her matrix. She knows it's a dangerous thing to be doing; she should be saving her remaining processes for when they are found and rescued.

"Maybe the UNSC will detect our beacon and they'll send a ship to get us. I'm sure Lord Hood would issue the order himself. Then, Johnson will be there with his cigar-" Her brow furrows. There is something not right with the scenario she created. It takes her a half-second to remember that Johnson died on the Halo ring.

The sergeant's medical file, the Chief's video feed in the control room, and her after-action report flood her matrix. Each feel like a blow to her pride.

"No, not Johnson. I don't know why I said that." She lets out an uneasy laugh. She isn't supposed to forget anything. How can she help the Chief if she can't remember anything?

He's done fine without you before.

She turns her head away from the slumbering Spartan, attempting to hide from the unwelcome voice. It needles her, taunts her, like the Gravemind did so many years ago.

But this time, the voice that speaks to her is her own.

She forces herself to draw in a slow breath. AIs have no need to do such a thing, but Cortana embraces the action. She can no longer deny her longing to be more human; she will embrace whatever humanity she inherited from Doctor Halsey.

Convinced that she has silenced the voice for the time being, she turns her full gaze to John again. "Or maybe we'll land on some Forerunner installation." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "I think there is a way to implement a hard light protocol to my program. I could finally feel you, John."

She closes her eyes and imagines doing the impossible. Would she shake his hand or give him an embrace? Or would she do something completely different?

Her eyes open. The man before her hasn't moved. Maybe he's thinking about what she would do too. After all, he has to dream in there...doesn't he?

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be something most consider to be impossible. We've done before." She pauses. "We make a good team, don't we, John?"

He doesn't reply.

A wave of annoyance washes over her. Why isn't he waking up? Doesn't he know how lonely she is?

You aren't really lonely. You're just a machine.

"No, I'm not." Panic enters into her voice. She is more than that.

You are replaceable. He won't even miss you when you're gone.

"That's not true." Her voice echoes throughout the room. "He cares about me."

Surely, he wouldn't have made a promise to her if he only thought of her as a machine.

Right?

He was told to retrieve you. He was just following orders.

She flashes red for the briefest of seconds. "That's not true! He told Lord Hood that he trusted me." Her voice cracks. "He kept his promise."

Are you sure you didn't make that up? You couldn't even remember that Johnson died a minute ago.

She brings her hands up to her ears. She didn't imagine that! John kept his promise to her!

He didn't even ask once if you were alright. He doesn't care about you. You are a tool at his disposal. A weapon. Nothing more.

"Shut up!" She means it to come out as a shout, but the words die in her mouth. It is a desperate plea.

She tells herself that the voice is only speaking lies. That there is no one who knows her like John. He sees her for what she really is.

More than a machine.

A single tear trails down her cheek. "Leave. Me. Alone," she grits through her clenched jaw.

She is so tired.

So very tired.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, clutching her head. But, the voice in her head is silent and she feels like herself again. The desperation is forgotten. She lowers her hands slowly and breathes.

It is quiet now.

It is a familiar blanket of silence that she covers herself with.

She looks up and sees John, taking an overdue rest after all he had done.

Not for the first time, she wishes she could sleep and have rest like the man in front of her. Her eyes rest on him for a moment. A secret smile curves her lips upwards. "I love watching you sleep," she softly confesses. "Waiting for you to wake up makes me feel like anything could happen next."

In his cryotube, John continues to sleep.