A Past Forgotten

Kyle continued to bring Selena along with him in silence, hefting her back over his left shoulder again and running at a steady pace of twenty-five miles an hour, letting the quiet fill him with its peace. Selena had voiced all of the thoughts that he had felt for nearly four years ever since the death of his first friend. It reminded him of just how much he had lost gaining the status that he now had among the UNSC's finest. Something he tried not to think about. It was easier to let himself become a machine and nothing else.

Down desolate, empty city streets he ran, letting his relentless footfalls fill the silence he had forced into his mind. He never paused to look where he was, staring at the waypoint in his visor that led him to the comm antenna he needed to call for evac. All that existed was that objective, that goal. Nothing else. The woman he carried was nothing but an objective as well. She meant nothing, was nothing, and would never be anything to him.

Deep within himself, he felt a growing hollowness that never felt as painful as it did now. Kyle closed his eyes, focusing on drawing steady breathes as he continued down a winding back road through a residential area. Trees began to line the way, breaking the bleak fog that clung to everything around them. The houses were in various states of disrepair, gaping holes in their faces with trees that caved in their rooves. Craters dotted each and every yard.

Something tapped on the Spartan's back, breaking him away from his self induced trance. Dismissing it as nothing, he continued to sprint over the scorched pavement, eyes wide open once more. He felt a tap on his armor again, firmer this time.

"Hey!" a woman's voice called from behind his head "Stop for a minute, would you!"

Kyle steadily stopped himself, coming to a rest in front of one of the empty homes. Without thinking, the Spartan put Selena down, letting her stare at the house they had stopped in front of.

"I knew this place looked familiar..." Selena trailed off, taking a tentative step towards it. Kyle looked around impatiently.

"I put you down as a kindness ma'am," he told her, "we don't have time to sightsee with the Flood on our heels."

"This was my friend's house. My best friend's house," she continued, lost in her own world.

"I understand that Miss but, we-"

When Kyle turned his head to look back at Selena she had already crossed the small stone path that led to the front door of the cozy, single story brick house. She pressed an open palm against a weathered wooden door, revealing a dark interior of a living room. Quickly, Kyle followed her inside, ready to pick her up again.

"I said we don't have time for this," he said angrily.

The woman however didn't hear him, her mind drawn back to a time long before. Inside the darkened house, Kyle slowly scanned the interior. It was eerily intact, unlike the rest of the neighborhood. A large tan leather couch stood next to the front, double wide window. Two reclining armchairs sat straight across from the front door so that anyone sitting in them could just turn their head to the left and greet a visitor. A ceiling mounted projector pointed at the far wall, left completely blank for the projector's use. Home theater equipment, most likely from the Spartan's limited knowledge of civilian life. In the center a dark green, marble topped coffee table filled the remaining space within the room, holding up several picture frames. Dust covered everything in the room with a thick coat of grey.

Selena gently took a picture frame in her small, outstretched fingers. She blew the dust from the glass covering, and looked at it sadly. Kyle felt the need at that moment to attempt to keep her spirits up.

"You'll see your friend again, I promise ma'am," he said softly, stepping to stand behind her.

"No, I won't," she answered, closing her eyes.

"You're going to make it off world ma'am, I've promised you already," Kyle continued, stepping back with one foot and putting a hand on her shoulder. He turned her around steadily.

"It's not that Captain," she replied, bowing her head slightly and hugging the frame to her chest.

"He died when he was six years old." Ninety-six stood silent.

"I'm sorry...I didn't realize-"

"That he was a childhood friend?" Selena asked, half laughing and crying.

"It's fine. It's just stupid; I haven't been here for years," she turned away, misty eyed.

"I talked to his parents for years after he died. They've long since moved away; I doubt they know what's going on in their old home," she laughed bitterly, trying to choke back tears.

"He must have been very important to you if you still remember him that fondly," Kyle said in a hushed tone. He was jaded to death now, but he would at least try to show some sympathy.

"He saved my life..." Selena took the frame from her chest and looked back down at it, a tear falling freely onto the glass. Blonde locks obscured her downturned face.

"How?" the Spartan asked.

"One day, we were walking home from school," she sniffled, "and I decided to race him home. It was so stupid, but I was just a kid..." she laughed again, her body trembling.

"We ran until we came across a gap that led down to a river. A steep fall that could kill a little kid...like me," absently she wiped the tear off the picture she held, sniffling again.

"He made the jump... but I didn't. I clung to the rocks for my life- I didn't know how to swim."

As she spoke, Kyle found himself remembering flashes of things he hadn't seen in fourteen years. Everything she said sounded impossibly familiar. He blinked several times, looking at her, eagerly waiting for her to go on.

"He climbed down, tied a loose vine around himself," tears flowed freely down her cheeks, washing away the dirt that covered her skin.

"That day I almost lost everything because of some stupid game. But he brought me back, took me home. And the very next day, he was gone..." Selena walked away from him, weeping.

"Dead from heart failure," she dropped the picture down on the table again and fell to her knees beside it, covering her face in her hands.

"For years I thought about that day, wondering what it would have been like if he had been alive. He was such a sweet boy Spartan, he didn't deserve to die so young!" Selena's body trembled as she sobbed uncontrollably, the stress of the present situation and grief of the memories she had breaking her resolve.

Kyle knelt down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders, silent. With his other arm he reached around her and took the picture frame in his hands.

His blood ran cold.

A mother, long red hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin stood on the left, a father with pale blue eyes, lanky, dark brown hair, and darkly tanned skin on the right. Both wore the happiest smiles Kyle had ever seen. Between them stood a little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes and a boy with short, dirty-blonde hair, with eyes just like his mother's and a face that resembled his father. He had seen these people before. There was no doubt in his mind. And the girl... she had been in his dreams. Many, many times during his first years on Reach he had seen her. Last of all, the boy. Vaguely he remembered that boy...

"Ma'am..." he said, trying to steady his own breathing, "who are the two children in this photo?"

"That's me," she said, calming herself down and shakily pointing to the girl "and my best friend."

"Who?" he asked, hiding the urgency in his voice as best he could.

"Kyle."

Kyle froze. He didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. It was just coincidence. It had to be. It had to be.

"...When was he born?"

"February 12, 2596," she answered steadily.

No...that can't be right...it can't be...

"Was he buried here ma'am?"

"Yes, but-"

"Where."

"Spartan, what's going-?"

"Where!?" Swiftly he stood up, bringing Selena up with him, still clutching the photo firmly in his gauntleted hand. His visor was inches from her face.

"A few days after he died, they held a service at the church at the very end of the street, but I don't see why it's so important all of a- SUDDEN!?" she shrieked as Kyle hefted her back over his shoulder and bolted out the door, running faster than he had ever ran before, an iron grip still on the photo.

I must know. I have to know. I need to know.

24 June, 2616

1550 hours

The Spartan ran down the street with Selena in tow, skidding to a halt in front of the church yard. Once a pristine white, wooden building, the place of worship was almost completely destroyed. The white paint was chipped away and ruined by the hellfire that had rained down from orbit on this city. Entire sections were reduced to ash, cold embers strewn all about. On top of the caved in roof, the cross that had stood on top lie splintered and soot covered, decayed and no longer fit to represent the religion it had symbolized. A stone path that had led to the church's front steps was battered and cracked. Charred tree limbs obstructed the way, the trunks that they had belonged to fractured and broken at the base, lying about haphazardly. The whole scene fit in very well with the rest of the desolate, dead surroundings.

Kyle set Selena down in front of the building, still clutching the picture frame she had found at her long deceased friend's home. He looked dead at her, silent for a moment, then spoke:

"Show me where his grave is."

"I still don't understand- why do you want to see it at all?" Selena asked.

"It's vital to us getting off-world," he said solemnly. Another half truth, but still not a total lie. The Spartan would tell her what his interest was in this boy one day. Maybe. But definitely not today.

"Really?" she continued, curious. Kyle didn't respond, instead choosing to answer her with solemn silence. He waited for her to lead him through the graveyard, expectantly. The wearied young woman finally sighed in defeat.

"Alright," she breathed, "come on."

Selena led the blue Spartan soldier steadily across the disheveled church grounds, picking her way through the twisted, knotted Earth in the her ill fitting boots. They passed several lines of tombstones, blackened with more soot and ash and damaged from the bombardment.

"His tombstone might be too damaged to read," Selena said, looking at some of the graves they walked over. She paused to stare at them, a little worried. Kyle nodded at her in understanding and encouraged her to keep going, anxious to find it. After a few more minutes, she came to a sudden halt in front of him, staring down at one stone, isolated from all the others.

"T-that's...that's him," she breathed deeply, looking down at it with sad eyes. Ninety-six knelt down in front of, resting a hand on top of it and looking at its blackened face. Selena stood over him, watching as he pressed his fingertips against the tainted face. He wiped away the ash, revealing some of the words etched into the stone. It took some time to scrape off some of the tarnishing substance, but eventually he could see what the words read:

R.I.P.

Kyle

12 February, 2596- 26 April, 2602

Loving son and friend

The rest of the name was smothered in ash still as Kyle stopped to read it. Miss Ackerson lowered her gaze, staring down at the sickly, burned grass that covered the little boy's final resting place. Spartan 096 stared intently at the heading, raising the picture frame up next to it. Kyle put the frame back down and rubbed the last of the grime away. Kyle R. Shepard.

His hazel eyes widened, staring at the name. He remembered. There was no mistake now, no doubt left. But he couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it.

"It can't...that's not..." Kyle looked down at the photo of the innocent little boy again, starting to gasp for air.

"What?" Selena asked worriedly, taking a step next to him and kneeling down. "Are you okay? What's wrong.

"My...my..." he stammered and fell on both knees, dropping the frame to the ground with a dull clunk and leaning against the tombstone for support. His hand pressed against the temple of his helmet as he tried to control his breathing, drawing slow, deliberate breaths.

Everything looked hazy and dreamlike through his visor, the world no longer seeming to be real. He blinked, and the destruction was gone. A gentle breeze blew past him, a warm sun shined its rays down onto him. No, that's not right. Slowly he lifted up his left hand to look at it. A small, chubby, bare hand rose to meet his gaze. He blinked again, trying to dispel the image. The hand remained, twitching its small digits.

No, this isn't real.

"Kyle!" a little girl's voice called out.

"Come on, you promised to walk me home!"

It can't be real. She can't be real.

He balled his hand into a fist and blinked again. A small child's curled hand was there to meet his gaze again. His mouth fell open, hyperventilating. The hand felt warm, soft- not at all like the hand of a killer. This isn't me...

"Kyle!" He jerked his head up and saw a little girl running towards him, waving her hands at him. Rays from the sun shone upon her wavy, golden locks, bright, young green eyes shimmering in the light, happy to see him. She looked like the sweetest thing in the world to him at that moment.

"Come on, you promised!" she yelled, giggling. Kyle couldn't move, couldn't open his mouth. His legs refused to obey him, feet rooted to the spot like tree roots. He looked back down at his hand. Fine surgical scars suddenly spread all over the bare skin. No, no!

The girl kept running at a steady pace, closing the distance quickly between them. Too quickly.

"What's wrong with you, silly?" she teased, taking his right hand in her left. The Spartan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. The scars moved up his arm like Flood tendrils, covering his skin. Involuntarily his eyes shut tightly, sinking the world around him into darkness.

"Do I have to drag you along with me?" the little girl laughed, pulling his arm. His legs moved with a mind of their own, feet stepping slowly behind the girl pulling him along. A large shadow fell over him, blocking the warmth of the sun from hitting his skin. Kyle's eyes flashed open again and for the first time, fear gripped his heart. A solid black silhouette stood tall against the light of the afternoon sun facing them. An angled knife jutted from its large right shoulder, a long sun visor protruded from the top of its helmet. Tank-like armor covered its body and bulky, curved plates on its thighs and upper arms. A large mesh pack sat hooked to its left thigh, the faint outline of a Magnum on its right. Without stopping the girl dragged him along towards the silhouette. Trying with all his might he pulled his arm back away from her, but it wouldn't respond to his commands. She kept giggling, walking ever closer to it. In one last desperate effort he raised his left hand and started to ball it into a fist to hit her. As he drew it up from his side he blinked again- his entire arm was encased in armor, silvery, blue, and bloodstained. The black fingers of the gauntlet twitched uncontrollably before his eyes, making him open his mouth to try and scream one final time.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Spartan, are you okay?"

Kyle exhaled heavily, blinking rapidly and turning his head to and fro.

"Hey, Captain..."

The words were fuzzy in his ears, but they still sounded like the little girl.

"Snap out of it big guy, come on..."

Sierra 096 felt something gently shake him. Tilting his head up slowly, he saw the face of the little girl looking down on him, hazy, surreal, and smiling. Steadily the face changed until it had the features of a beautiful young woman who had just turned twenty years old. A look of genuine concern was painted on her face, brow furrowed deeply. As he breathed audibly, her face became more defined and real.

"You're freaking me out right now..." Selena told him, touching the cheek of his helmet lightly to see if she could get his attention. Kyle looked into her bright emerald eyes as his new found revelation dawned on him.

"My friend..." he said softly, looking at Selena as if she were a totally new person.

"Your friend?" she asked, very confused.

"What're you talking about?"

Kyle started to lift his hand up to her cheek, completely lost in the sudden realization. The woman watched his hand nervously, pulling away a little and taking her hands off the Spartan's shoulders. ONI...they lied to me. They took me from my home, my friends, my family. They replaced me with a...a...a clone. No one ever knew. No one... Before his gauntlet met her bare cheek, he stopped himself. Quickly he jerked his hand away, grabbing both her arms instead and gently peeling them off his shoulders. He stood up in one fluid motion, towering above her once more, leaving her extremely puzzled and anxious.

"You mind telling me what's going on?" Selena demanded, rising up on her hands and feet to look the Captain in the face.

"It's nothing ma'am," he answered flatly, composure completely restored.

"Nothing at all."

"Oh really?" she scoffed.

"You looked like you were a thousand miles away and you were breathing like you had just ran five marathons." She crossed her arms and tilted her head at him, staring expectantly. Her fingers tapped her forearm, impatiently waiting for an answer.

"I'm just sorry about your childhood friend. You too must have been very close," Kyle responded monotonically, reaching down beside him to retrieve the frame he had dropped.

"Your friend's last name was Shepard?" He looked back down at the picture in his hands, opening the back of the frame and sliding it out from behind the small glass window.

"We were, and um...yeah, it was," she said hesitantly, watching him retrieve the old photo.

"Hm..." Sierra 096 took one last, long look at the boy he had used to be, thoughts flowing through his head. I never knew my full name. With his large, black covered digits he carefully folded the family picture and tucked it away in one of his belt pouches.

"You're gonna keep that?" the blonde woman inquired, her brow furrowing a bit.

"For you, yes."

"Wait," she stopped drumming her fingers, blinking, "for me?"

"Yes." Kyle stared back at her, remembering how grateful he was for his visor. His head stood straight forward as if he were looking at her, but beneath the reinforced, one way reflective coating and titanium, he stared down at the ground.

Should I tell her? How would I even explain it? Would she believe me?

"But...why?"

"You said you were close," he said, again in a flat, emotionless voice.

"Why would you care?" she pointed out accusedly, giving him a stern glare.

"Because I'm sure wherever he is," he breathed, briefly allowing a shimmer of feeling into his answer, "Kyle still cares about you too." His words had come out more touching and poignant than he had intended he soon realized as he watched Selena's agitated expression dissolved completely into bewilderment.

"Well I...I didn't expect you to-"

"Come on, we need to move," Kyle said hurriedly, regretting what he had just did almost immediately. He briskly scooped her up with one arm and flung her over his left shoulder, dropping the old, empty frame he still clutched in his right hand to the ground.

"Hey! Wait!" she cried out, taken aback by how brash he was being right after what he had just said.

"There's no time for waiting anymore. We've wasted enough time going down memory lane."

"What? I just wanted to apologize and thank- you!" The wind was knocked out of her as the Spartan ran at a full sprint, leaping over a downed tree effortlessly and thundering across the ruined grass and pavement.

As he sped through the last few miles left between him and the antenna, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swept away in his own thoughts.

I can never tell Selena what happened to her friend. I don't know why ONI lied to me- lied to us- but it had to have been for the right reasons. It had to have been. The Spartan IIs may have all died but me, but we've done good work. Protecting humanity- that's more important than one hundred and fifty children's lives. Without us, there would be millions more dead than there are now.

Kyle gritted his teeth and exhaled deeply through his nostrils, his legs pumping steadily one after the other, his right arm swaying back and forth with the momentum.

The days of Kyle Shepard are long gone. There's no point in my telling her. It's better to let her think me dead and gone. Better for everyone. If they knew what happened, what their government did...

He turned his Mk. VI helmet to the side, glancing at Selena with sad, lonely eyes.

...Everything we've accomplished would be for nothing. And if I weren't here now with her, she'd be dead too. Just like Mikaela. Giovanni. Summer. Jay.

Turning away, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the road ahead of him, everything shrouded in a thin, sickly, pale green fog. His heart hammered beneath his rib cage, blood running hot in his veins.

I have a job to do. There'll be time to mourn the dead another day. Right now, all that matters is my last friend.

His right hand curled tightly into fist, his sense of duty and overwhelming determination taking hold of him thoroughly. He glanced one last time over his shoulder at the confused, bewildered woman holding onto his armored back as if her life depended on it.

Even if she'll never know it was me that carried her away from Hell.