This is mostly based off of the games, because I haven't read the books. My knowledge of the Halo-verse is pretty limited, so bear with me. If there are any factual errors, I apologize.

I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with Halo. I write for the experience and for the fun. Please enjoy!

oOo

They were less than an hour from docking at Reach. Charlie sat at a broad window quietly out of everyone's way. She had happily made breakfast for the whole crew, whom had been incredibly grateful. A small smile was coasting her lips as she leaned back on her hands, stretched behind her, her feet dangling over the ledge she was sitting on. Reach was an incredibly pretty planet, really. She admired it's color, the sight of the sun on it's horizon. She sighed deep in her chest, and enjoyed her moments of silence. She mused the day's prior to her position. Meeting John, inviting him for dinner, the attack, being saved. The night she was so scared she couldn't sleep. She hadn't told John she didn't fall asleep at first. She laid awake, unable to cope with her own mind. The sound of his breathing slowly reassuring her. Her lids were so heavy when she heard him mumble. She rolled over, and watched him turn in his sleep. He sounded so upset. He said someone's name, desperately. Almost pleading. He was troubled, she could tell by the way he tossed and turned all night long. As she considered what could be bothering him, her thoughts were rudely interrupted.

"You went behind my back." Charlie leaned back to see the Master Chief looming over her. His suit on, helmet and all. She sighed and nodded her head, looking back out to the planet they were closing in on.

"Mhm," she replied simply, she could be just as irritatingly silent as him. She relished in that moment, having outsmarted her hero for the time being. She knew she could convince Lasky to let her stay. He was fond of her father, and that was a foot in the door. Her father had always said 'It's about who you know.' John stood there silently, probably fuming in his suit. Unable to stand the silence, Charlotte stood up and faced him, lacing her arms around one another. "Don't underestimate me, John," she said sharply. He stared at her through his gold tinted visor. She was unable to read him properly and that was very aggravating. "I know I seem incapable, but I can hold my own," she added, walking away from him, her hips swaying with confidence. Perhaps too much. John gazed after her. And she smiled to herself.

"Don't underestimate my capabilities either." The way he said it sent chills down her spine. She knew how his enemies must feel. Completely threatened. She turned, slightly, pivoting on her heel to look at him. He gazed out the vast window, the sun glinting off his visor. "I will protect the crew of this ship. Even if it means dragging you off of it."

"We'll see about that." Charlie wrinkled her eyebrows, scowling at the Spartan. She felt so very small in comparison. "What is so dangerous about my presence here? Am I an assassin? Some undercover Covenant spy? What?"

"You're a causality waiting to happen. And not everyone can take death as lightly as you can, Miss Taggart." She was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"Don't think I am some stranger to death. We are well acquainted."

"Yes, sitting on the sidelines." His aim was perfect. The shot hit home. Charlie snapped. The soft blue flame inside her smoldered and roared silently. It was kindling with every sour word he threw at her. She knew he was trying to goad her on.

"Oh what, the big sad Spartan feels more pain than me? Why? Because you fight in wars? Because you've killed people? How dare you assume someone else's pain isn't as real as yours. At leas I own up to it. I don't bury it deep inside me and let it fester to the point where I can't even talk to people." Her chest heaved as she kept back the raw emotion bubbling underneath her. This man hit her from every angle. He saved her, insulted her, kept her safe, but refused to acknowledge how she felt. What was wrong with him? He was broken. Something inside him had been removed. Who could do that to a human being? She felt bad, judging his pain. She didn't know what ghosts plagued him.

"Assumptions are dangerous."

"Quit your cryptic bullshit, you're not impressing anyone." Charlotte turned back on the toe of her foot and walked away. She could feel his eyes on her back and she hugged her side, tears welling up in her eyes. If either of them had their way, she would still be homeless. Void of family. The only person trying her to the life she once had, the small semblance of her home refused to acknowledge her pain. How could he do that?

oOoOo

John stared after Charlotte for a long time. He turned to the massive window and watched as Reach neared them. He had to get a hold on himself. This was exactly why he had to get rid of her. He felt too responsible for her. He'd brought her on the ship. Too risky. He would have to talk to Lacks about this; surely he would agree. Lasky was an agreeable man.

"Look Chief, what harm is she doing being here?" Thomas' voice was sure. John could tell he was solid in his decision.

"She is going to be a problem," the Master Chief offered, his eyes on the officer. Lasky sighed, sitting down in his chair and pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead.

"The way I see it, the pros outweigh the cons," Thomas explained, raising his shoulders. John's jaw stiffened inside his armor. Women. Lasky had no business endangering the crew like this. He liked the man. Respected him. Trusted him. But this decision was unwise.

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think you are taking everything into consideration."

"My decision stands, Chief." John's eyebrows dug into his skin shallowly. His eyes were hard, with anger. "We're about to land on Reach, I suggest you prepare for that."

"Yes, sir." He responded with as much hidden anger as he could muster. He felt so on edge the past few days. The anger he could easily hide was bubbling closer and closer to the surface. This was unacceptable. He didn't know if she should attribute it to the passing of his good friend, or the gain of Charlie in his life. And no matter how hard he tried to eliminate this problem, she just propped up roadblocks.

The Spartan made his way down to the loading bay, slowly. He took the stairs one at a time, simmering in his head. Alright, he was formulating the plan he and Palmer had gone over with Lasky. They were going to find a mechanic, immediately, get the comms up, and contact the closest fleet. John was heading up a party to acquire supplies as soon as possible, and Palmer was going to make contact with a mechanic and look into requesting more support. Lasky was going to keep tabs on the surrounding skies, and warn them if things got fishy.

John met Palmer in the bay. He adjusted an assault rifle in his hands, and checked the magnum at his side.

"So the girl is staying." Palmer sounded extremely unhappy. John just nodded, a little irked she'd brought it up. He was trying to focus. He counted the grenades on his person, and adjusted his extra ammo. "If it makes any difference, I think she needs to leave as well," Sarah added, loading her battle rifle with skilled hands. She looked at the Chief with those unmistakable eyes of war. She'd seen death, experienced loss, just as he had. John gave one assuring nod, and started off the ramp and onto the ground, Palmer going her separate way with her own small squad.

It was raining, and it was cold. John had forgotten how harsh weather could be. It'd been so warm on earth. The instillation they landed on, was one of the smallest on the planet, often considered the hub of military activity. It was rare to find a base not completely outfitted. But it was the closest and they didn't want to risk rerouting in the dark. His boot sank into the mud, rain pelting his helmet. The sound was relaxing. His eyes scanned the area carefully. Nearby a platoon of marines was doing drill, rain hardly breaking their focus. John thought back to his days in training. Although, he was sure marine's had a tough time, there was nothing that could ever prepare you for the Spartan program. He watched them quietly, before walking in the opposite direction, towards a building nearest the docks. This was probably the best place to find a mechanic.

oOoOo

Charlie sighed, looking out into the rain with a pout on her face. She wanted to visit Reach too. She'd only ever been once, when she was a child. Her father traveled there often, and any trip with him was exciting. The rain fell on the metallic hull of the ship in a monotonous rhythm. The ship was bare save for herself, Lasky and a few foot soldiers, who were ordered to stay and watch the ship. Charlie stopped swinging her feet for a moment, and realized it was very quiet. Moments ago she could here the chortle of the two guards below her feet. Curiously, she descended the stairs two at a time, hopping to the very bottom with a clang. There in the shadows of the bay, she could see two shapes crumpled in the corner. She took a wary step forward, and gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth to quiet herself. The two soldiers were dead. Blood trickled through the catwalk, and hit the floor with the same rhythm as the rain. Charlie backed up, her hand grasping behind her, trying to find the rail of the stairs.

"Oh my god," she whispered, eyes wide with paralyzing fear. She mustered up the energy to run up the stairs, tripping twice and slicing open her forearm on their sharp silhouette. As she reached the top, she could see a small disturbance at the foot of the stairs. The air around the bay was distorted, very slightly. She squinted, her heart throbbing in her chest, screaming at her to run. Suddenly the air crackled with electricity and a bright blue light sprang to life before her eyes. And energy sword. Charlotte couldn't scream, a small gargle escaping her throat. She scrambled into a full on sprint as the distorted blue light climbed the stairs with superhuman speed. Finally Charile screamed, as she roughly rounded a corner. Her shoulder made contact with it, and she groaned in pain and she slipped on the catwalk, falling to one knee. She recovered, barely and limped into a sprint again. Her mind was racing, her heart thrumming so hard she thought she might die. She ran directly to the bridge where she knew Lasky would be. She prayed he was okay.

As she entered the bridge, her heart sank. He wasn't there. She glanced around frantically, rounding the map in the center of the room. Suddenly from behind a panel of instruments, a hand wrapped around her head and cupped her mouth roughly. She tried to scream, but the hand whipped her around, and she was facing Thomas. He pulled her behind the panel, into a small space. He raised his index finger to his lips and shushed her. Her heart ached, her chest falling up and down rapidly. Sweat fell down her brow, blood trickling down her arm, staining her white shirt. Lasky peered from behind the panel then looked back at Charlie seriously.

"Stealth majors. They must've slipped onto the ship before we could close the bay. Bastards."

"How did you know," she gasped for air.

"I found one in my quarters. Unfortunately for him, I'm a deadshot with a magnum." He sighed quietly, placing himself between the opening and Charlie. "Are you alright?" What about Waskowski and Yula?"

"Dead," she responded breathlessly. Thomas swore under his breath. Suddenly however, the two quieted as they heard the sound of metallic voices. They were talking, looking for their human prey. Thomas moved, slightly, so his back would not be exposed. But before he could make a move he was suddenly flung from the opening and out of Charlie's sight. She screamed, and scrambled for the gun on the ground at her feet. She picked up as the blue and white elite stuck it's head into the opening, its three-fingered hand grasping the edge of her shirt. She pressed the muzzle of the gun into his wrist and pinned it into the wall, firing off a shot. It screeched in pain as its hand detached from its wrist and clattered to the ground, still clenching and unclenching. Purple-blueish blood sprayed into her small space, hitting her face and blinding her momentarily. Before she could react, another hand had reached in, and yanked her from the space with amazing strength. She was hanging in midair by the front of her shit for a moment, but it split down the middle, and she fell gracelessly to her knees on the floor. Jarred by the fall and shock, she didn't make an effort to move. The elite's eyes flared as he reached down, pinning her throat with it's powerful digits. She grabbed his wrist with her hands, and attempted to shove him off.

He snarled and neared her face, drool slipping from his mouth digits onto her face, "Where is the key, Heretic?" he growled, tightening his hand on her throat. His other hand raised the energy sword above her, the tip inches from her eye. When she didn't answer, he lowered it, and tightened his grasp even more. "Tell me WHERE IT IS!" What was he talking about? She gasped for air, her vision becoming fuzzy. She pulled and scratched at his hands to no avail. The room was spinning, darkness falling around her.

But suddenly the pressure on her throat was relieved. She rolled to her side, and opened her eyes. The body of the alien crashed to the floor beside her, it's head lolling to the side, split down the middle. She closed her eyes, holding her throat. It was searing, and she coughed up blood into the palm of her hand. Tears stung her eyes, her forearm throbbing in pain. Suddenly she was being hoisted into the air. She lowered her head into her arms and laid still as someone shook her slightly. All at once time, sound, pain, it all came rushing back in an explosion. Charlie gasped and looked up into the familiar gold visor of her hero.

"John..." she whispered.

"Are you alright?" he asked, seriously. Charlotte nodded her head, not even knowing if she was actually alright. He looked down at her stomach, "You're bleeding... "

"Oh," was all she said, reaching down and pressing a hand into the pool of blood. A hot pain shot through her legs. "Oh," she repeated, this time sharp and loudly. He adjusted his grip on her.

"Are these the only ones?" he said looking around at the mangled bodies of the elites. His voice sounded soft for once.

"I... I don't know," she responded, suddenly scared again. She tried not to focus on the pain in her stomach. The round she fired in the space behind the panel much have ricocheted and hit her. She didn't even feel it. "Where is Lasky?" she asked, squirming in his arms to look around at the damage.

"He's alive, but hurt, badly. He will need medical attention."

"Oh, good."

"What were they after?" The Spartan asked, starting to walk from the room to find the medic, who was also, hopefully still alive. Charlie bit her lip, trying to concentrate on other things. She groaned quietly.

"I don't know. One of them asked about a key... I don't even know what that means and why they would think I have it," she said, leaning her head against his cool armor. She was burning up. She didn't even want to think about how she looked. Covered in purple and red blood. Oh goodness... she nearly forgot her shirt was ripped. She blushed somewhat and covered her chest with her arms. John didn't say anything. He just kept walking. They reached the medical bay just as Charlie lost feeling in her legs. "I can't feel my legs," she frowned, looking up John.

The medic was arranging things when he looked up to see the bloody and battered woman he had just patched up yesterday. "What on earth do you do for fun?" Charlie tried to crack a smile. John set her down on the table and turned to leave.

"Oh please, what if they come back?" Charlie said, raising herself onto her elbows, which the medic forced her to stop doing.

"Trust me, they aren't coming back," John said sternly, and walked out the door, retrieving is AR from his back. Charlie laid back and looked at the doctor with a frown.

"He isn't very happy," she said sadly, closing her eyes as the medic went about snipping the rest of her shirt off. "What is the damage?" she said through gritted teeth.

"You'll be fine, you were just grazed. You also broke open the gash on your head, and you acquired another fun and new injury on your arm. You're losing quite a bit of blood collectively."

"Oh, good."

oOoOo

John leaned over the body of his fallen foe. He inspected it carefully and sighed. This was no last minute attack. They were specifically trained for this. They were here for a reason. And apparently, it had to do with that woman. But what? He picked up one of the energy swords and slid the cylindrical handle into his gear. The key. What did they mean key? There was only one thing that got the Covenant agitated to the point of full out war. Forerunner artifacts. But what would posses them to think Charlie had one? She was of no significance. No archeologist.

"Wha... what happened?" John turned to see Lasky lifting his head from the floor. He walked over and hovered a hand over him.

"Don't move sir, we don't know if you broke anything."

Lasky laid back down and clenched his eyes. What on earth had happened? He couldn't remember. All he could think of was being thrown into the panel and blacking out.

"Wait here, I am going to bring a medic back," John said, striding away.

The Master Chief paused before he entered the medical bay, watching as Charlie swallowed to pills and a cup of water per the medic's instructions. She was covered by a thin medical sheet, and this made John uncomfortable. He shifted into the doorway and looked at the doctor.

"Captain Lasky is injured," John said gruffly. He watched the medic gather his things and quickly exit the door, moving around John's massive frame. John turned his attention to Charlie, who had her eyes closed as she rested on the table. Her throat was purple and red from where she'd been strangled. Her arm was bandaged tightly, red seeping through the gauss. Her hair was sticky and matted with purple and red, her face streaked and bruised. He felt bad, but he had to interrupt her.

"What did your mother do?" he said quietly, coming to stand next to her bed. Charlotte's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him quizzically.

"Why? What does that matter?"

"Answer the question."

"Well, she was an archeologist for the military. That is how she and my father met. They were both a part of the team that investigated Forerunner Installations."

John walked to a counter, and reached up, twisting his helmet off and setting it aside. Her scowled, and looked down at the counter. "Did she ever give you anything?"

Charlie frowned, and shook her head, "No, she died when I was born." She ran a hand over her bandaged arm. "But.. she did leave something to me..."

John spun around and approached her, "What is it?" he said, his voice had a note of urgency.

"Well, it's not here, it's in my bunk," she said, sitting up and propping herself on her elbows. John reached under her makeshift blanket and scooped her into his arms, making sure not to look at her, due to her lack of clothing. Charlie tried to protest, but he was already out the door. She swallowed a lump in her throat and bobbed in his arms as he carried her down the hallways to the door of her room. He opened it with his shoulder, and stepped in, setting her on her bed.

"Where is it?" She pointed to the stand next to her bed. He opened the compartment underneath it and reached in, feeling nothing. He scrounged for a moment longer and scowled. "There is nothing in here."

"What?" she shouted, painfully jumping off the bed and looking inside for herself. "Where did it go, I put it there last night!"

"They must have taken it. Someone is still aboard this ship," he was suddenly pushing her into a corner, drawing his AR.