Welcome back, Marines! Very important things are going to happen in this chapter. Next week we get our hunk back, I promise. Enjoy these moments while they last, there's something big coming and I want y'all sharp and ready *evil smirk* see me at the end for more nonsense. Remember: if you're not at least 18, GTFO. I mean it.

TAKE ME WHEN YOU NEED ME

PART XVII

T-MINUS SIX DAYS TO RENDEZVOUS POINT

early morning-cycle

The cot wasn't exactly comfortable, but Cortana managed to sleep better knowing that, if something about John's situation changed, she'd be the first one to know.

There were protests, of course. The Chief Medical Officer herself said that she couldn't sleep in the room because that was an Intensive Care Unit, not a hotel. Cortana did her best and most respectful imitation of 'you just watch me' and didn't listen. Nobody showed up to remove her from the premises, anyway, but she tried to stay away from the CMO's view for a while. Cutter had been very clear: that woman had the power to kick her out if she felt Cortana was overstepping.

She supposed that the Doctor empathized with her and decided to have mercy. Maybe kicking her out was too much of a hassle, who knew.

The Lieutenant found her, at last. As she had predicted, Cortana blushed to the roots of her hair the moment they were finally face to face, she was trying hard not to think about him kissing Lopis' caramel skin and purring sweet nonsense into her ear. Fred-104 didn't notice, and he certainly didn't look happy: his deep blue-green eyes shaded by the bill of his uniform's cap were severe. Cortana resolved to apologize for not telling him about what she had decided to do, and the Spartan was kind enough to dismiss everything under the promise that she would stay on sight. Linda-058 was appointed to be her shadow, now that Blue Team had gained their much-desired permission to see their team leader.

It hit her as strange, but Cortana only saw Kelly-087 one time during those days. A hint of a limp on her right leg was the only tell of all the injuries she had gotten rescuing her and John from SHIELD Base. The Spartan didn't say a word when she visited John's side, she barely spared a glance at Cortana.

Fred's words were still fresh in her mind. Kelly was 'uncooperative', he had said.

The Spartan knew the truth and she didn't approve, more like.

It made her feel guilty. But, why should Cortana be affected by her opinions, anyway? Her baby and her arrangement with John were none of Kelly's business. At first Cortana was offended by the rejection, for some selfish reason, but later the feelings of guilt sunk in and she couldn't help it. Kelly had reasons to be distant and disapprove, of course; you just had to take a look at the man strapped to the bed, cooled down in a coma so he wouldn't die or turn into a vegetable.

So instead of arguing with Kelly, Cortana chose not to intervene.

So far, she hadn't showed up again.

Cortana went to another doctor's appointment those days. Her hip was healed almost a hundred-percent, the medication and vitamins were working very well, and her Little Bean grew stronger every day. The news were a spark of hope shining between the clouds of the constant sadness she was into.

At least she still had that to hold on to, the baby. The promise of John's recovery.

That morning-cycle Cortana opened her eyes to the white ceiling above her, not feeling particularly rested. Her stomach had been bothering her all night. Still, contrary to what the Doctor said, she didn't experience morning sickness beyond a vague sensation of nausea, or she got sleepy quite often and fought it back with short naps.

Some women would say she was extremely lucky.

But that particular morning, something was different.

Cortana sat up on the cot and found a green crate resting atop the stool she had left by the door. An ammo crate, she reckoned. Barefoot in her sleeping shorts, she went towards the entrance and carefully opened the top of the crate, only to find something quite unusual inside. Books. Eight thick volumes neatly packed inside the metallic box, with their spines pointing up. There was also a yellow paper notepad, a handwritten note was scribbled on it. The calligraphy was neat and blocky, masculine. She took a moment to inspect the books, noticing how old they seemed to be; made of real paper and leather-bound, probably over two hundred years.

Her fingers wandered over the spines, until she picked up the notepad and read:

'Miss Halsey, when I said you would be admitted into the facility I obviously didn't mean you could camp in there. But I guess this only proves a point: where others may see a problem, I see commitment and devotion. I have spoken with the CMO on your behalf and this is the last thing I'll do for you and your Spartan, seriously.'

'This is a small gift for the mother and father. I hope it serves you well.'

'Best regards, J. Cutter.'

Cortana's cheeks flushed deeply, her heart raced inside her chest. She read the message several times, until her lips parted in a smile. She looked at the names on the spines, written in golden and silver ink: Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton, and a collection of Arthurian Legends. Most of them she had read, even in their original languages. Well, well. A note from the Captain of the Spirit of Fire himself, a stack of old and probably priceless books as a gift… that man was full of surprises.

'You and your Spartan.'

'For the mother and father'

It sounded really good, didn't it?

Well, it was her who told Cutter they were engaged. This was her lie and the Captain had bought it. She shook her head, trying not to think about it.

So, that morning after the breakfast meal, Cortana returned to the room and sat on her stool, keeping John's hand within touching distance. The books gave her something to do, the notepad would be useful, as well. She could draw, if she managed to find a pen she'd be all set. At first, Cortana sat with an elbow resting on the bed's gelpad mattress and just read for herself, occasionally looking up from the ancient pages to check if there was any change on the sleeping Spartan.

His face remained the same. Well, not exactly the same, a beard obscured his cheeks a little bit, but the growth was minimal due to his current conditions.

She sighed and returned to her reading.

His fingers had twitched again two or three times in the previous days, she interpreted it as a good sign. Cortana wanted to believe that it meant the Master Chief was listening or at least that he still had some degree of awareness of his surroundings, even under induced coma. It kept her going, it was hope. At some point, the dull beeping of the machines got to her nerves and she closed the book, frustrated. An idea came to her mind…

Well, there was literally nothing else to do.

Maybe this would be good for him.

Cortana moved the stool closer to the head of the medical bed. She cleared her throat and began reading Homer's The Iliad out loud.

x.x.x.x.x

T-MINUS THREE DAYS TO RENDEZVOUS POINT

afternoon cycle

She grabbed his hand from underneath, accommodating that massive size between her slim fingers as best as she could. Cortana traced lazily the faint lines of white surgical scars across his knuckles, up through the back of his hand, the length of his arm and beyond his shoulder. As far as she could reach, at least. Thin lines, like a silver thread, connected every major joint on his body. Those were his firsts, she was certain. Those scars in particular were old and difficult to notice amongst the intricated lattice of battle marks and tracks of stitched skin. Her own fingers were now cold, but she didn't care.

Then, Cortana poured the lines onto the yellow page of the notebook, carefully.

She drew his hand and then studied her own, the way her fingers were tangled with his.

And she drew her own hand too, holding John's. It was so silly. She felt like a middle-school girl writing their names with hearts around, but the truth is that doing this appeased her sadness. Reading could only distract her so much and not being able to do her work was slowly driving her insane. Her research was gone, she had to focus her attention to detail on something.

So, she drew him. Over and over again, on the front and back sides of the paper.

She drew parts of his armor from memory, too, mostly for technical purposes. Ideas.

Cortana was distracted when she heard the knock on the door, she startled and dropped the pen. Her blue eyes shot to the entrance of the room and let go of John's hand, quickly, to find two Spartans standing there. Linda-058 and Fred-104 usually stopped by every day, the first to bring her food or news and the second to check out on her. Since Cortana barely left the premises for no other reason than showering, using the bathroom or her medical check-ups, the Lieutenant was visibly more at ease and it eventually began to show on his face. She hoped that he'd been sleeping better… or sleeping, at least.

'With or without Lopis, I mean.' she thought.

"Miss Halsey." Fred greeted her, with a gentle nod of his head.

Linda saluted sharply. She always seemed to be in good humor, or at least, she seemed to be on board with the situation unlike their sister. The redhead Spartan carried something caught on her fist, a medium-sized black canvas bag. She approached and picked up the pen from the floor.

Cortana put the notepad down on her lap, with the drawing out of sight.

"Afternoon, Lieutenant. Linda. It's good to see you, how are you doing?"

"Fine, ma'am. Thank you." the woman answered, in behalf of both.

"Is something wrong? You usually don't come in together."

Fred shook his head. "Nothing to report. But we got you something."

The Lieutenant stood with his hands clasped behind his back by the head of the bed, on the other side. He observed John's face for a moment. Linda, on her part, moved across the room and gave the canvas bag and the pen to Cortana, who received both items in her hands with a surprised face. The bag was intriguing.

"What's in here?" she asked, curious.

"Something we gathered for you, ma'am." Fred explained, with a tiny, rogue smile on his lips. "Consider it a gift and keep it well hidden, please."

Cortana rose her eyebrows a little bit more.

She peeked inside the bag, finding small packs of chocolate and other types of candy, carb and protein bars of different flavors, sealed desserts and lots of packs of instant coffee and milk, all of it taken from MREs. She counted also four pieces of fresh fruit, an apple and three oranges.

They brought her extra food.

The Spartans gathered food illegally for her.

Cortana couldn't imagine the lengths any of them had gone to get all that, considering that stocking up supplies was against regulation. Some tears sought to blurry her sight. She didn't know what to say, growing more grateful by the second. Fred was adamant on his duty of taking care of her. A warm sensation grew from her chest as a big smile formed on her lips. Cortana slipped her hand inside the bag and plucked out a few pieces.

"This is…" she told them, shaking her head. "It's very kind of you, thank you."

Fred and Linda seemed to relax, their offering had been accepted.

Cortana put the candy back into the bag and her hand brushed against something cold and hard she didn't recognize, at first. Frowning, she rummaged inside again.

"Oh, wait. What's this?" She fished out a medium-sized bottle of beer. Full, of a brand she'd never seen before. "I don't think I should be drinking beer in my condition. But thank you, anyway."

"Ah, that's not for you, ma'am. Sorry."

Linda took the bottle off her hands and passed it to Fred. The Lieutenant caught it mid-air with one hand and set it on the small shelf beside the bed; Cortana observed them with her head tilted to the side. They had an aura of innocent mischief… the playful grin on the Spartans' faces was spectacular, like she'd never seen before. They were up to something.

"Birthday prank." Fred quipped.

"Birthday prank?" Cortana repeated, confused.

Linda nodded. "Chief will get it when he sees it."

Reassured by their confidence on John's recovery, Cortana pondered how a beer bottle on someone's birthday could be considered a prank… but her mind got stuck on the idea of the birthday itself. She checked the date on her wristband's display, it was March 7th.

She visualized in the back of her mind part of John's service file.

March 7th, 2511.

It was his birthday? She shot a glance to the Master Chief's sleeping features, right beside her, feeling a sharp cold bury itself in her heart. Cortana couldn't help to succumb to a little bit of sadness, again. So many things she wasn't taking into consideration. She had no idea that the Spartans cared about each other's birthdays, she hadn't even imagined that they remembered the dates of their own births.

They had been only five or six years old when all of them were conscripted.

"Did you draw those, ma'am?" the Lieutenant asked, curious.

Cortana came back to her senses when she heard Fred's deep voice. His attentive eyes were fixed on the wall behind her, on the yellow pages attached to the panel. The drawings, of course. Who else could've done them?

She blushed a little. "Yes, I… I have to occupy my time somehow."

Linda approached to take a look at the pieces of paper. The pages scattered around had images of tastefully drawn hands, detailed, well-muscled arms and shoulders, partial traces of a man's face. There were two or three self-portraits -one of them unfinished- and parts of MJOLNIR armor.

Cortana shifted her weight on the stool, a little uncomfortable. People sometimes were impressed with her ability to draw, but it wasn't an artistic pursuit per-se. Her mother was a decent artist herself. When she was studying cybernetics engineering, Cortana had taken courses on technical and industrial drawing that came in handy for the design of circuits or complex mechanical parts. Over time, it branched out into other types of art.

She liked to practice doing close-up studies, to keep her hand warm.

And she had no other subject to study besides sleeping beauty right there on the bed.

So yes, what the Spartans were looking at were pictures of John. Of the hand, arm and shoulder that weren't wrapped in bandages and strapped to his body, at least. Of the side of his face that wasn't darkened by bruises. Of his eyes, which she had drawn from memories. Every shadow and muscle, every corded vein protruding under his skin, every scar, every freckle and every mole. She had taken her sweet time to put it all into her sketches, with the utmost precision. She wasn't that careful with her own self-portraits, however.

Cortana was immensely proud of her job with those drawings.

… but she also felt that the display said a lot of compromising things about herself.

And yet, the Spartans surprised her again:

"You're very talented." Fred appreciated, rising his eyebrows. He sounded sincere.

"Miss Halsey… would you draw my picture?" Linda asked, suddenly. "It sounds like something nice to have. A portrait."

Speechless, Cortana opened and closed her mouth a few times.

Well, this was another thing she'd never considered: Spartans could appreciate art. It was so curious, she really had missed a lot of details about them, being so narrow-minded and stuck in her calculations and tests. 'Thinking about yourself, as usual.' the mean voice said, critically. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Cortana was about to reject the idea, but seeing the interest sparkling in Linda's green eyes...

"Sure, I'd love to." she said. First time someone asked her for a portrait. "Why don't you come back tomorrow and pose for me?"

When both Spartans were satisfied with the completion of their little secret mission and Cortana's status, they abandoned the room leaving her alone again. The slow beeping of the machines didn't seem so empty now. She cleaned and ate one of the oranges from the bag of 'contraband' and observed the man sleeping before her, her face was serene.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, she stood up.

Cortana propped a knee on the stool, to help herself climb above the medical bed, and leaned over to leave a soft kiss on his cold, raspy cheek. John didn't react, but she was confident he felt it. Or at least, she wanted to believe so.

"Happy birthday, Chief. You're turning forty-seven today." she whispered, with irony. "Although considering the results of your tests, I would say you have gathered enough time spent in cryosleep to delay your biological aging by about ten years… perhaps I should say happy thirty-seventh birthday?"

x.x.x.x.x

T-MINUS FORTY HOURS TO RENDEZVOUS POINT

late night-cycle

Cortana received a memo on her personal pad. She got many, to be honest, but most of them she didn't care much about. Since SHIELD Base didn't exist anymore and until her situation had been formally decided upon, she considered she owed nothing to the UNSC and therefore, she wasn't interested in their problems. But the news outlets, those she paid a lot of attention to, it intrigued her what was being said about the debacle. The official story out there was that the Master Chief was in recovery and doing amazingly well, after a very successful operation to annihilate a Flood outbreak.

Ever the hero, the one-man-army.

He never got hurt and he never lost a fight, that was how Propaganda wanted it.

Well, he had been a true hero for what Cortana was concerned.

The memo was from her mother, informing her of the ETA of her transport and asking her to remain available to catch up after she was done with her work on John. That wasn't aseptic at all, no sir. A perfectly sterile message from Catherine Halsey herself, what a joy. It wouldn't have sounded nicer even if she had added 'please' and 'thank you', but Cortana couldn't pick up any additional undertones from her little note.

She put the pad down and her eyes fell, for the millionth time, on his face.

It had been eight and a half days, already. Time really did fly.

The thick, raspy beard made him look older, rougher. It wasn't more than a few days' worth of stubble -being half-frozen had slowed down the growth-, but the reddish-brown shade contrasted starkly against the cold paleness of his skin. It fascinated her. During those days she had come to notice the few gray hairs growing on the sides of his head, they were becoming more noticeable now that he needed a regulation haircut.

She was so tempted to rub her fingers on John's cheek, to feel the texture of…

She jumped on her seat when someone knocked on the door. Cortana slowly closed her eyes, annoyed, and looked towards the bulkhead. Her brow turned into a frown when she saw Jameson Locke on the other side.

'Finally.' she thought, a little miffed. 'I thought he'd never come.'

Cortana signaled him to come in and the door slid to the side with a soft hiss.

"Hey." Locke greeted her. It was becoming his usual, she noticed.

"Hey yourself. Busy?"

"For the most part." the man replied, half-smiling. "How is it going?"

"Quiet."

"I figure. Doesn't look like he talks much."

Cortana wasn't sure if he was trying to be funny or what, but she didn't laugh.

"I'm sure you've been updated about his status." she observed.

"I have, yes. Although I didn't think it would look this bad; the report is crude enough but when you get to see it firsthand, it really hits you. Thank God the poor bastard is in a coma, I wouldn't like to be in his shoes."

Cortana let out a long sigh and reset herself on the stool, trying not to show irritation.

Hands clasped behind his back, Locke took a long, critical look at the man strapped to the bed. The stern, handsome features of his face retained a hint of concern but, somehow, she didn't feel it like a genuine emotion. What had changed, now?

"It can't get any worse for him, like this." she elaborated.

"Your mother will be here soon, that's what matters. Everything will be alright."

After a short silence, Locke handed a green paper to her, leaning over the bed.

Cortana hesitated a little before extending her own arm.

"This is from the children." the Commander explained. "One of the teachers asked me to deliver it. I was intending to wait until he was awake, but…"

Cortana received the flimsy paper. A medium-sized propaganda flyer. She couldn't tell if it was an old or new print, but the armor depicted was the latest iteration of the Mark VI MJOLNIR. With big, blocky all-caps letters on top of the page, the artwork showed Spartan John-117, the one and only Master Chief Petty Officer, holding an MA5 battle rifle in a very combative stance over a pile of rubble, under the intimidating shadow of the UNSC Infinity, the biggest of all the UNSC capital ships. So iconic. Even for a propaganda picture, he looked courageous and handsome. Fully clad in armor, not a hint of skin showing and still a very attractive sight, Cortana couldn't pinpoint why she felt so warm inside seeing it. Absolute poster-boy.

She also couldn't help to smirk a little, that was some pose. Totally made up, of course, because she couldn't imagine John posing for this…

All over the picture, on the front and back of the flyer, there were scribblings made in inks of different colors, the handwriting of several younglings judging by the shaky traces and the naïve messages. So simple and yet so, so heavy with meaning:

'Thank you for helping us!'

'You're my hero!'

'It was so cool to meet you!'

'Please get well soon!'

'Finish the fight, Chief!'

'We love you so much!'

'You have to come back and kick more alien butt!'

'I'm gonna be like you when I grow up!'

The children. Oh, right. The twenty-six kids of the class she had taken down on a tour to the farming grounds. She had been trying hard not to think too much about the fact that two of those children had been orphaned during the incident and at least other ten had lost one of their parents. Her heart broke every time she remembered it.

Being aware of it only made her feel even more powerless.

Cortana held the flyer on her hands and stared at it for a long, long time, fighting back the urge to cry in several occasions. Maybe Jameson sensed her distress, maybe he didn't. He just stood quietly by the bed but after a moment, without an invitation from her part, the man grabbed the lonely stool by the door and pulled it closer to the bed, to sit down. Oh, it didn't look like he was going to leave any time soon, so…

"Why not wait until he was awake?" she asked, distractedly.

"I don't think I'll be around." he commented, after clearing his throat. "There's an ONI Prowler coming with your mother's transport, to pick us up. I'll be taking all non-essential Spartans with me. New orders."

She blinked, a little disoriented. It took a while for her to catch on.

"Non-essential?"

"Blue Team. What's left operative, at least. The Gammas are under Lopis' supervision, she will be staying. Different route."

Cortana paled, cold seeped through her feet to the rest of her body.

He was going to take Blue Team away. John's siblings were leaving.

She could only imagine the heights of the Lieutenant's dilemma. John had ordered him to look after of her and the baby, now higher powers were at play. She was certain that, as a good Spartan that he was, Fred-104 wouldn't reject the authority, but…

She figured that it would be hard for him. Another thing that made her feel sad.

'You don't have any power to pull strings now, Elizabeth. Get used to it.'

"Do they know, already?" Cortana asked, softly.

"There will be a debriefing after your mother arrives… we probably will be aboard for another week or so, but I reckon that with all the ONI officers incoming it's going to get busy. And I didn't want to leave without talking to you."

"… what about?"

"I told you we would talk about Ellen when you felt better."

Cortana closed her eyes, upset. 'Oh, please no.' she thought, hurt.

Anders' soft, freckled Asian features showed up in her thoughts.

It was so strange, now that she had managed to put some distance between her and the Commander. She couldn't understand how a man like Jameson Locke, out-going, frontal and literally incapable of sitting tight in one place, was married to someone as shy, warm and intelligent as Ellen. She had been thinking about that fact. In the previous days, Cortana had been talking to Doctor Anders whenever she stopped by to do the daily round to check on John's vitals. Even more so, Cortana recalled seeing Ellen and Jameson sitting at the mess hall once, having a meal together.

She remembered especially the way Ellen smiled and looked at his face every time he spoke. The woman was very much in-love with her husband.

'And then he came to you and told you, with that deep, sexy voice, that he could see himself fucking you senseless. Remember that, Elizabeth? You felt so, so hot. It was the first time a man like this was so direct with you.'

Cortana closed her eyes and shook her head, quickly.

"No." she said, putting her foot down for good. "Stop, just… forget about it."

Locke arched his eyebrows, surprised. "You seemed pretty upset the last time."

"I've moved on, from you and from what happened. And I like Ellen." she declared, in a haste, looking at John's face. "There's nothing to explain, I don't care about it anymore. I have more important things to focus on, now."

This time, the Commander narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah… I can see." his suspicious stare drifted towards the drawings attached to the panel behind Cortana, at the way she rushed to grab and hold the Master Chief's cold hand between hers. "Listen, Elizabeth… are you sure this is the best for you?"

She straightened her pose, sensing something odd.

"I don't understand." Cortana replied, dryly.

"I'm worried about you."

'Sure, you're worried that this isn't about you anymore.' the voice snarled.

"Why? I'm fine."

"I kept my promise, you know? No mention of any pregnant women in my reports." he started, leaning to rest his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands together. His face was thoughtful. "Not that it's going to be of much help, for what I know. But I've been thinking a lot about this, lately: it doesn't seem convenient. This thing you're doing, I mean. Neither for you nor for the Master Chief, evidently."

Cortana looked at him at last. "What do you mean with 'convenient'?"

"You know his background better than me, Elizabeth. SPARTAN-II, UNSC property as far as anyone is concerned. Once he's back on his feet, he'll be shipped out somewhere else and you won't see him ever again."

His words felt so brutal, so matter-of-factly.

Yes, well, she had always known that. It was the main reason why she picked herself a Spartan to have a child with, right? Right. Too bad she'd been having second thoughts and feeling like an ungrateful bitch again.

"I know that." Cortana said, after a long pause. "I'm very much aware."

Locke pushed a little: "But you don't act like it."

"I might have changed my mind about some things."

"Like what?"

"I… I want John to see his child." she blurted out, suddenly felt her cheeks hot. "I want him to hold it, in his arms. He deserves to see it, at least. For his service."

'Because I think of it and it feels right.' she mused, biting her lip.

'Sure, seeing that hunk holding the baby the two of you spent many fun hours making is a very hot thought.' the voice bit back at her, with a sly sneer. 'Maybe hot enough to think of making another one in the future, who knows?'

She felt a pinch of arousal, not unwanted.

Another baby. In the future.

Another baby fathered by John, yes. Why not? She hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought about having another one, since she was barely getting used to being pregnant for the first time in her life. Her eyes drifted to his sleeping face. Under what circumstances would that future meet them, she wondered.

She wouldn't be able to forget about the idea, now.

"I'm sure he does deserve it." Locke commented, wryly.

"Well, looks no one is going to have a kindness with him. You said it yourself that he's property." she gained confidence, her voice became firm. "His future is already as grim as it gets, so, why not? He helped me build my legacy. I want him to be proud of it."

"Is that what this is about, now? Future and kindness?"

Locke sounded like he couldn't believe it, and it bothered her enormously.

"… maybe." she admitted.

"You can't be serious. You know who he is, right? What he is?"

Cortana frowned hard. "I thought you knew that well yourself, Jameson. You were his commanding officer and didn't even come to check on him once." she retorted, bitterly. "I thought you admired the Master Chief, that he inspired you to be who you are. That you respected him."

"That doesn't mean I let myself get carried away by fantasies, like you."

"Just… say what you truly mean. Do it. No more beating around the bush."

The man pressed his lips in a tight line, but in the end…

"Elizabeth, I think you're not getting it." Jameson started, severe. She'd never seen his face this cold, borderline angry. "He's not a pet, so they're not going to let you keep him no matter what you do. And I don't think you can make a father out of him... so why don't you just forget about all of this? You're young, rich and powerful, you can have as many other children as you wish. Just... get rid of this one, for good. It's not worth the trouble."

Cortana felt cold, so cold.

"I shouldn't have bolted on you when you mentioned wanting a baby." He continued, his voice was soft now, almost paternal. The shift in his attitude made Cortana's skin crawl in a bad way. "I can't help to think that, if I hadn't turned you down that time, maybe you wouldn't be in this position. Maybe… we can try, later. I'm sure it's going to be much less of a hassle with someone like me."

Oh, she could kill him.

When he suggested her to abort, it made her quiet. The bad kind of quiet.

But implying that he could be the knight in shining armor to make her dreams come true without consequences… now, that made her feel murderous.

He had said that she was young, rich and powerful. That much was true. He was very wrong if he thought she would ever let him be anywhere near her ovaries, again.

Oh, how could she have been so naïve?

Slow but steady, the blinding bandage before her eyes crumbled. She had a moment of astounding clarity: Cortana realized that everything Locke had ever done, even his heroics during the Flood incident, were just selfish acts that would make him look good. He had always been trying to save his own ass. He seduced her, and she fell in his trap like an idiot schoolgirl. Then he tried to be all charming to get back on her good side. He didn't want to press charges against Linda for her insubordination and for hitting him, he said out loud that he didn't deserve to lead the legendary Blue Team. So much bullshit. He was as fake as the generic picture of the house with the happy family and the white picket fence Ford had shown to John during his psych evaluation.

Pretty as the picture could be, yet rotten inside.

No need to deny it, Jameson Locke was a good soldier too, a cunning and ballsy one. Maybe too smart for his own good, too ambitious. Cortana shivered in rage. Yes, that was it. She hadn't been that wrong about him, turns out.

Jameson Locke was an ambitious asshole.

He landed a nice gig babysitting the father of the SPARTAN project. But he fucked it up, lost his priority asset, tons of civilian and military lives, and above his head the sword of Damocles was hanging. He was looking for a way out. Did he think she could help him avoid the shitstorm unscathed? Or her mother, perhaps?

Did he expect John to die, so he could take his place and become the next legend?

Oh, oh God. Her head was spinning.

Cortana didn't raise her voice, but her face said that she wanted to scream:

"Get out." she commanded, fury made her shiver. "Get out, now. And don't you dare show your face before me or John, ever again."

"Elizabeth…"

"GET. OUT." she hissed, angrier. "I see you for what you are, Jameson. Oh, you just think about yourself, don't you? It's all about climbing higher. I was so stupid to believe you could be different… I pity Ellen, really. It's so clear to me, now. You don't love her, you just married her because she's bulletproof: a sheepish UNSC scientist that doesn't stand up to you and makes you look good. You're nothing but a selfish prick looking for fame." Cortana stirred away from the stool like a viper, her beautiful blue eyes shining with irritation. "I may not be the most righteous woman, but I know you're not better than me, and certainly, you will never be a better man than John."

Locke blinked several times, stunned, looking at her in silence.

Her chest was heaving, gasping for air. Her cheeks red, nostrils flaring. And one of her small hands was sitting on top of her belly, the other one crushing the fingers of the Master Chief. Her knuckles were white. He'd never seen her this livid, her eyes so enflamed with the need to cry.

But he capitulated and stood up, standing tall and proud even in his humiliation.

"This way you will only suffer, Elizabeth." he insisted, after a moment.

She clenched her teeth and shouted, still very low: "I SAID GET OUT!"

Locke shut his mouth at last and headed to the exit, almost bumping straight into the hardened frame of Linda-058 when the door opened. With her standing right in his way, the two Spartans looked at each other, eyes at the same height and shoulders as tense as coiled snakes…

Ultimately, Linda stood aside and let him go.

She followed him with a death-stare until he disappeared.

Hands trembling, Cortana rummaged around for the black canvas bag hidden under the apparatus of John's medical bed and picked out several pieces of candy. Rage boiled in her. She needed something sweet to feel better, to fight back the intense desire to cry and punch the walls. How dare he?

And how come she had reacted like that, in such a visceral way?

This man mentioned to her the idea of getting rid of her baby and she lost it.

'That should teach him not to mess with the lioness if he doesn't want to be chewed up to bits, I guess.' the voice said. 'But yes, you overreacted. Good job!'

'Shut the fuck up. SHUT UP.'

The voice hummed. 'Maybe you wouldn't feel this if you admitted that you love him and you don't know what the fuck to do, now.'

She ripped off the packaging of a chocolate bar with her teeth, her furious eyes found Linda-058 on the doorway. The expression of the redhead Spartan was as murderous as Cortana's own. An intense shame washed over her, then, and she ended up sitting back on the stool, shoulders slumping.

"Did you hear any of that?" Cortana asked, almost in a whisper.

Her body still shivered with unreleased wrath. Stupid question, considering the Spartan augmented senses, but the woman on the door nodded.

"Yes, ma'am, I heard. That's why I was right outside, waiting for him."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Do you want me to fuck him up?" growled Linda, nonchalantly.

Cortana's eyes opened wide, she shook her head and hands at the same time:

"What? No, no…! I don't need a scandal and you don't need an actual court martial for beating up an officer. Just… forget that he exists. It's for the best."

"I can rough him up a little in our next training exercise. He's already scared of me."

"No, Linda. Thank you."

"Are you sure, ma'am?"

Doubting, Cortana took a bite of her chocolate. Hmm. Peace tasted good.

"… maybe just glare at him whenever you see him? And make sure he doesn't show up here ever again, will you?" she said, at last.

The Spartan wasn't amused but complied anyway: "Fine."

Cortana bit her lip, feeling a little vengeful. Maybe just a little.

"Also, if you find a way to make his stay on the Spirit of Fire a little more miserable, that would be welcome." she added.

Linda produced a blood-chilling smirk, slowly.

"Sure thing, ma'am." she quipped, with another growl. "I can think of something."

x.x.x.x.x

SUCCESSFUL CONTACT – RENDEZVOUS POINT

around noon meal time

The CMO had finally kicked her out of the ICU.

Twelve hours before reaching the final rendezvous point, the delicate part of the works began and Cortana understood that she couldn't stay there, no matter how critical it was to her mental stability. The technicians had to perform procedures on John to gradually thaw him back to normal body temperature and prevent him from suffering any kind of damage in the process. So, she packed her things and, escorted by Fred-104, returned to her quarters in the officer's deck.

The Lieutenant promised to keep her posted, she agreed to stay safe and refer to Lopis if she needed something. The SPARTAN-II had been recalled into duty.

Cortana couldn't stay locked in, knowing all of this. She picked up the ammo crate full of books and collected inside it her drawings, the thank-you card from the children, the bag with treats and the lone beer bottle, then proceeded to hide the crate under the bunk, to keep it safe. After a few hours, she finally decided to leave. Cortana didn't join the Captain and his officers at the landing bay to receive the Pelican that brought her mother, her assistants and her equipment from the other ship into the Spirit of Fire. She just watched from one of the passageways above, strategically hidden within a group of mechanics. Fred, Kelly and Linda were escorting, clad in their already repaired armors, standing proud behind the officers.

Her mother's figure was easy to spot, she was the flawless one and the first to show.

Whitening hair, impeccable lab coat, always composed and serious.

Yes, that small figure, fragile yet immensely powerful, was Catherine Halsey.

She observed how Cutter extended a welcoming hand to her mother and how Halsey, in an almost hesitant fashion, grabbed the man's hand to return the greeting. It looked like they were talking, or at least the Captain was, meanwhile a troop of servicemen unloaded a bunch of crates from the Pelican. She had brought six assistants with her.

Cortana rose her eyebrows, concerned. Six assistants.

'She's expecting difficulties.' she thought, her hand suddenly clutched her own belly.

She didn't miss the way her mother stopped by to greet and talk to her Spartans. Heck, she spent more time talking to Blue Team than to the Captain, but Halsey had always been like a mother hen with her precious supersoldiers, so Cortana wasn't surprised.

She hugged herself under the jacket.

Well, her mother had arrived, at last. Now everything would be alright.

Wouldn't it?

TO BE CONTINUED

Yey! Halsey is here and Chief is going to be fine, believe me. So, how about that? Locke really is an asshole, after all. I was so mad writing this. I didn't really want to make him the villain and… well, he isn't. He's just a guy with his own interests, turns out his interests are climbing to the top and using people in a very smooth way. Aunt Linda should fuck him up. Anyway, join me next weekend to see how things went! Halsey will be… not amused, that's all I can spoil for you. Thank you very much for your company, please leave your thoughts on the box below! It's greatly appreciated :3