XIV

It was late, sometime after midnight. Natalie lay with John in his bed, the bedsheets tangled and twisted between their legs. Their clothes were discarded on the floor. It was quiet, peaceful. The single bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting it in a cozy golden glow.

Natalie rested her head on John's chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, and felt the slow rise and fall as he breathed. From this angle, she could study his profile – the firm curve of his jawline, the slight cleft in his chin, his taught mouth. There were faint traces of facial hair beginning to speckle his face, she noted. If the regs allowed, he would easily grow a full beard. She took a moment to contemplate what it would look like. Would it grow in dark, or perhaps have traces of red, or lighter brown?

As if he was aware of her studying him, John glanced over to her out of the corner of his eye.

"Something wrong?" he asked quietly.

"No. I was just looking at you."

"I'm not that interesting."

"But you are," Natalie propped herself up on her elbow, brushing her hair out of her face. It cascaded down her shoulder, rather tousled. She glanced down his naked body. "It's strange. In one way, I know you so well…" she paused, meeting his eyes. "And then in another, it's like I don't know you at all."

"There's not much to tell." John replied. "You know me better than most."

"But I don't. I don't even know your last name."

"I don't have one. Not anymore."

"What was it?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not that person any longer. I'm a Spartan."

"It sounds like you didn't have a choice."

"I didn't. I was chosen, but the choice was not mine."

"It seems like a common theme in the military." Natalie sighed, and let herself drop back onto the pillow next to him. She stared at the ceiling. "Makes the choices you do have mean a lot more… like being here with you. It feels… right."

They met each other's eyes. John pulled her face gently to his, pressing his lips against her own.

"It doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to. If we're feeling something good, something positive… why fight it? I don't remember the last time I felt like this."

"I've never felt like this," John confessed. "I usually don't feel much. I learned to shut all that off. But this just pushes through, and I feel it anyway."

They have a name for that, Natalie wanted to say. A terrifying four-letter word that she had tried to forget existed. It was the one human emotion that couldn't be controlled, no matter how hard one tried. Although she knew presently it was just a tiny seed that had begun to sprout in the depths of their hearts, she knew it was a threat.

She'd known it once before, for Myles. Their friendship had bloomed into something more in their last years of school. Myles had been sweet, endearing, attentive to her every emotion. He treated her like a queen. They always made each other laugh. He'd been her first. She'd loved him for years. She loved him when he left for the academy for basic training.

And then, everything had changed when she showed up to his graduation and commission ceremony wearing a uniform of her own.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see the expression of disbelief on his face as she wound her way through the crowd to find him. The disappointment. The worry. How fake his smile had looked when he finally forced it onto his lips.

He had supported her through everything until that very moment. He had gone with her to the veterinarian when she had to euthanize her dog Odin when he was hit by a car. He had stayed right by her side when they had a pregnancy scare – and talked over their options while they waited the three terrifying moments for the test results. He had surprised her with a congratulatory cake when she landed her first job. Willed her to apply for the best universities because he knew she had it in her. Then, when she joined the Marine Corps – it was the first time Natalie realized she didn't have Myles on her side.

It threw a wrench in it all. Distance. Stress. Worry. Her love for Myles soon became distorted, replaced with frustration and hatred. She couldn't understand his logic. Joining the Corps had been something they'd fantasized about since childhood. She had had a UNSC recruiting poster on her bedroom wall for years.

But Myles didn't want her in harm's way. He didn't want her to do well. He wanted her to fail, to get kicked out, to go back home to the safety of Hamburg. He didn't want her in the war. Although it had stemmed from the very love he bore her, Natalie had felt betrayed. So instead of deterring her, it pushed her harder. She went, anyway. She trained. She passed – and she specifically pushed to be posted to an active warship.

It was odd to think that in one moment, the war destroyed one love and drove her and Myles apart – and in another it was the commonality that brought her and John together, when in other circumstances they would never have met.

But how would this be any different? Natalie felt a ball of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. There would still be distance, stress, and worry. And the very real possibility that they could be killed.

"Do you know where you're going next?" Natalie asked quietly. "Or when?"

"No. I never do."

"That doesn't make matters any easier."

"It was never an issue – until now. A part of me wishes…" John trailed off, and shook his head. "Never mind."

"A part of you wishes what?"

"For something that can never be. It would sound foolish for you to say, and even stupider coming out of my mouth."

"That the war would end tomorrow? That you could stay here with me forever?" Natalie let out a little laugh.

John remained silent. And his silence was enough. Natalie bit her lip hard.

"Have you ever been to Earth?" she changed the subject.

"No. I've only seen pictures." John glanced over to her. "That's where you are from?"

"Ich komme aus Hamburg, Deutschland." She smirked.

"Hamburg. Germany."

"Yes. Very good." She said. "Hamburg is in the northern part of Germany. It is a very old city. Not much has changed in the last thousand years - they have worked hard to preserve the historic parts. In the summer months, however, my father had a cottage in southern Germany, in the Bavarian alps. A small town called Garmisch-Partenkirchen. We would always travel there in June, and not leave until August. The cottage was small, nestled up in the mountainside overlooking the town. If you stood outside on the deck in the mornings, you could hear the cow bells as the farmers moved their cattle from one field to another. It seemed to echo – it was such a calming sound. In the distance, towering above it all, you could see Zugspitze, the tallest peak in Germany. It is always covered in snow, even in the summer. Pictures don't do it justice. It is beautiful. I have always wanted to climb it." Natalie let out a sigh. "I always tell myself, that if I make it through this war, I will return there and live out the rest of my days. A simple life. A peaceful life."

"Sounds nice."

"Would you come visit?"

A small smile came to John's lips.

"I would."

"We could hike Zugspitze."

"Yes."

"And then we could celebrate with beer." Natalie grinned. "Big glass mugs that hold a litre. We'd get so drunk. You'd have to carry me home, up the hills, to the cottage." She propped herself up on her elbow, and ran her finger across his chest, watching his nipples harden in response, goosebumps appearing on his skin. "You'd take me to the bedroom, and take off my clothes, and I'd kiss you like this…"

She leaned in and softly pressed her lips against his. She felt him smile against her kiss, heard him chuckle softly. Gently, she rolled on top of him.

"I'd get on you like this."

He cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently. She let out a small sigh, closing her eyes.

"Again?" John asked huskily. "Didn't we just…"

"Are you objecting?" She raised a brow, grinning. She could feel him hardening against her legs. "One part of you isn't."

"No." He shook his head. He pulled her face to his, kissing her again. "I'm most certainly not."

The remainder of the week played out much the same. Natalie's bartending duties didn't seem like a punishment at all. She maintained a regular PT schedule, pleasing Amy by accompanying her to the gym every day, where she'd fill her in on the night before. John spent each evening in the mess, helping entertain Natalie through her shift. The nights Natalie spent in John's room. They grew closer, more intimate – continuing to share dreams and muses. She told him more about her life on Earth. He seemed intrigued and drawn to her stories – mainly because she knew he could relate to very little of it.

John wasn't lying when he told her there wasn't much to tell about his life. Many of his military missions were of a classified nature, details of about which he couldn't speak. He touched on his Spartan training lightly, answering Natalie's questions when she asked them – but always kept it short. Any details of his life before joining the Spartan program were unknown. Natalie sensed his discomfort when she had asked about his surname, and decided to not pry any further.

Natalie saw very little of Myles. He never checked on her while she was on duty. She would catch sight of him during meals, but they never crossed paths. He never made any move to try to speak to her, even if they happened to make eye contact across the mess. The most she'd get out of him was a small smile that could be missed with a blink. Although this distance felt strange, she was thankful that he was no longer breathing down her neck, criticizing her choices or her relationship with John.

Did it still bother him? Of course it did. She could tell by the uncomfortable look on his face whenever he saw them together. Myles liked to think he controlled his facial expressions, however, Natalie knew every one and exactly what it meant, no matter how much he tried to dilute it.

Natalie met Amy for PT in the cardio room before breakfast. She followed her friend to the nearest treadmills. To aid the boredom of running inside, each treadmill was equipped with a frontal holographic screen. The user could select from a variety of virtual trails to view – which would play in sync with the runner's speed. If one didn't avert their eyes from the screen ahead, they could pretend that they were running elsewhere than onboard a UNSC vessel.

"How far do you want to run?" Natalie asked, tapping away at the virtual scene selection. She chose a beach at sunrise. Palm trees swayed in the tropical breeze, waves lazily lapping at the coastline.

"Brisk walk. 6 kilometers?" Amy raised a brow. She picked the same virtual scene. "It's hard to talk and run at the same time."
"So, discussion takes priority over burning calories this morning?"

They started walking.

Amy let out a little laugh.

"I'll skip dessert tonight."

"If you say so. What's so pressing?"

"You. Update me. Last night was your last shift on duty?"

"It was, thankfully. Although I must say, it gave me something to do."

"Only difference is that you were behind the fucking bar instead of in front of it." Amy let out a little laugh. "You'll be back there tonight, don't lie."

"I have been killing for a beer."

"How's John?" A small smile appeared on Amy's lips.

"Good."

"Just good? You're getting awfully close."

"Too close. I don't know why I'm doing it to myself. Well, no. That's a lie. I'm doing it because it feels right. And I'm happy when I'm with him. There's no reason why I shouldn't be happy."

"You're right. You are happy, and you deserve to be."

"But this happiness has an expiry date, Amy. I wish I knew when it will be."

"What do you mean?"

"His job will take him elsewhere. He's not like us – posted to this ship for the next three years. It's just a stop along the way to the next mission. And he doesn't know when he will leave."

"Just because he leaves, doesn't mean what you have has to end."

"Doesn't it? Myles and I fell apart when there were just a few thousand kilometers between us. John could be asked to go lightyears away. I won't be able to talk to him. I probably won't even know where he will be, or how long he will be there. It could be years until I see him again, if I ever see him again. I could die. He could die. We could lose the war. I know all this, and a part of me is telling me to distance myself now. But I can't bring myself to. I want to make as many memories with him as I can, even though they likely will amount to nothing."

"You don't know that for sure."

"No, I don't. But if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's how I feel – and I'll hang onto that for as long as I possibly can."

After grabbing showers following their PT, Natalie and Amy made their way to the mess. On their route, they passed one of the many windows. Instead of seeing distant stars zipping past in white blurs, Natalie saw they had become stationary. A beautiful blue nebula took up much of the black void, the cloud of gasses and matter glittering beautifully. Several thousand stars surrounded it. Natalie came to a stop, staring out at the window. Amy kept walking and talking. It took her several seconds to realize that her friend was no longer by her side.

"Nat? What're you doing?"

"We've exited Slipspace." Natalie pressed her hands to the cool glass.

"Did they announce anything? I didn't hear that we were stopping."
"No."

"Strange. Let's go. I'm starving."

When they arrived at the mess, they weren't the only ones who had noticed that the ship had exited its Slipspace jump. As they grabbed their trays and filed into the steamline, conversations were buzzing about it. Natalie was all ears. A couple of Sergeants were just in front of them, discussing the issue.

"What are we stopped for?"

"Just a ship to ship transfer."

"Who's being transferred?"

"The Spartan, I think."

Natalie felt a chill run down her spine. Instantly, she could feel Amy's eyes on her. She glanced around the mess.

John wasn't there.

Her eyes went to Myles, seated at his usual spot. He was looking right at her, sipping at his coffee. His expression was knowing, his eyes apologetic. He knew.

"No." It was a whisper that escaped her lips. Natalie thrust her tray into Amy's hands and darted out from her spot in the line.

"Nat!"

She could feel everyone staring at her as she made a bolt for the door. Her heart was in her throat. She ran blindly down the hall, heading for the docking bay, her eyes brimming with tears.

She caught a technician on his way out of the bay.

"Has the ship left yet? The one transferring?" She skidded to a halt, short for breath.

He looked confused and surprised, not expecting someone to ask him.

"Uh… If it hasn't, it will be any minute now."

"Fuck!" Natalie broke into another sprint. She burst into the docking bay, scanning the vast room for movement. She spotted two figures - Doctor Halsey and John, walking into the hatch of a Pelican. Halsey calmly took a seat. John, dressed in his armour, leaned against the bulkhead. The hatch began to close.

Bursting past a group of surprised technicians and crew members, Natalie threw herself against the railing – having to grab onto it to prevent herself from going over into the loading bay below.

She screamed his name from the depth of her lungs – her voice ringing out through the large room. She barely recognized it – it sounded panicked and desperate.

"John!"

John's head immediately snapped to her direction. Halsey turned too, looking rather surprised to see her. The hatch would close in seconds, blocking them from her view. She raised her hand in a desperate wave.

"Be safe!" She shouted, her voice shaking. "Good luck! Kill them all!"

She watched as John raised his finger to his visor, and swiped it across in an upward curve, just as the hatch closed. The platform the Pelican was on began to hydraulically sink down to the ejection hatch.

That was their goodbye. Natalie felt dread overwhelming her. She bit her lip hard. Her grip on the railing tightened, her knuckles whitening.

"Hey. You. Lance Corporal!"

Natalie turned, seeing a perturbed Sergeant hurrying her way. His face was reddening as he approached, and she knew before he spoke she was in trouble.

"Do you have fucking authorization to be here?"

"No, Sergeant." She took a couple steps backward toward the exit. She didn't even bother with explaining. Excuses were bullshit in the Corps. She knew the Sergeant didn't give a shit why she was there, only that if she wasn't supposed to be, she had better leave.

"Get the fuck out before someone who cares more than I do sees you."

"Yes, Sergeant."

Natalie turned and left. The doors hissing shut behind her seemed terribly loud. She hadn't made it even a few feet down the hall before she realized she was shaking. She took in several deep breaths to control herself. Two hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt emotion welling up within her, bubbling to a boil.

Seething, she turned on the nearest wall and punched it with a cry. Once. Twice. On the third punch, she saw her blood. Adrenaline drowned the pain. She took one look at her bloodied knuckles and kept going down the hall.