This one is a bit scattered, and a bit short, but I hope it's something that makes you smile when you finish it.
Morgan had claimed a home of her own, had lived in it a week now. It was furnished well enough, with any amenities for a single woman to be comfortable on her own. Some of the rooms were still empty, but she had what she needed. A bed, a couch, a tv, a microwave she was slowly beginning to get comfortable with.
All of these things would be plenty enough for a normal woman. But the woman who lived here wasn't normal. Not by a long shot.
Instead, all of the lights stayed on all night. The bed was seldom used. The curtains stayed drawn shut and the windows were kept at more than arm's length. Dishes piled up, take out food was the primary source of nutrition. The oven had barely been touched. Few enough things were used that there was very little need for a vacuum or other cleaning tools. Only the shower was used often.
Morgan Bailey had spent only a week in her home, and she'd done exactly what she'd been ordered not to do: retreat into herself. Her neighbor, Kris, had come over every other day, knocked on the door and waited patiently. Morgan would sometimes come to the door, opening it with a faked smile that didn't reach her eyes.
The visit that day had gone the same as usual, and it was still fresh in the big woman's mind as she lay in the fully lit room that would have been a secondary bedroom or office, had she bothered to furnish it. All it was now was just another place for her to lie in the corner, trying to steal some sleep. She didn't feel safe. It was too open, indefensible. There was nobody to watch her back, no armor to protect her if she was too slow, no gun in reach to fight off whatever enemy snuck into her home.
She forced herself to think back, to replay that meeting again, if only to silence the recurring thoughts that her instincts were screaming about.
The door had been knocked on slowly. It wasn't the rapid fire knocking that most people would use when visiting a neighbor. Kris had known better than to seem like she was an intruder. It had been noon, the sun high in the blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
Morgan had been startled nonetheless, immediately crouching into a combat stance, ready to take on whatever might burst through the flimsy wooden door. A heartbeat, two, three. Then she remembered there would be no forced entry. No strangers to repel, no enemies to lay low.
Just Kris.
"Morgan?" Her voice filtered through the door, and at the same time, Morgan felt both relief, and slight shame at the thought of being scared by the little neighbor woman.
Swallowing, she made her way to the door. She undid the chain, unlocked the deadbolt, unlocked the last lock, and opened the door slowly, forcing a smile. "Kris. What can I do for you?" A canned response. One that she had learned in one of the searches she had done on acclimating to civilian life. It was stiff, alien in a sense. Why treat her neighbor any differently than the Marines or other Spartans she had known? They were all people. Another mental pang of shame. Just because she wasn't on a battlefield didn't mean that the people were different in any way. She'd only had to really deal with civilians when…
When Reach fell.
A blink, she forced the memory out of her mind. Kris had only just started to speak. "I was just wanting to check on you. It's been a week since you moved in!" The older woman gave her a practiced grin, one that was perfect, but not insincere. It was something small, so infinitesimally small that nobody normal would worry about it.
But Morgan wasn't normal. Not yet. She wanted to be. God, did she want to be. Her mind flashed back again, to something she'd seen. Normal people, doing normal people things. Not constantly checking over their shoulder, or feeling the adrenaline rush when your damn dinner was done being reheated.
Another blink. Her false smile grew, but so did the worry in her heart as the emotions cascaded through her. It was all a new mask, to replace Mjolnir's embrace. "Already a week? Time flies, doesn't it?"
A nod. "Sure does! But once you get used to it and get really settled in, time will slow to a crawl. Not much happens out here in Allerai, so you'll be able to meet all kinds of people and do whatever comes to mind!" She seemed so chipper, so excited for even the most menial things. It would have been amusing, had Morgan not been in the middle of a mental crisis.
"You'll have to show me them, then. Soon. I'd like to stay here for a while longer though, I don't think I'm… ready yet, to meet many new people."
Kris' smile faltered slightly, evening out to a more gentle upturn of the corners of her mouth. Despite her age, her eyes were a vibrant blue, having not lost any of their spark over the years, despite all that had happened. Someone had to keep the fire going in every community. Kris was one of those people for the town of Allerai. "We all take time, dear. Time for wounds to heal, time for us to grow comfortable with our scars." She held a hand out, and Morgan frowned slightly, before she slowly reached out and took it. Kris put their palms together, before slowly turning her hand to hold Morgan's on top, while her other hand came back up and settled on top of it.
Older fingers slowly drifted over one of Morgan's scars, making a note of it. "But not all of our scars are visible. Sometimes, where we hurt the most, is inside." Blue eyes met green, and she went on. "But that doesn't mean that they aren't scars and wounds all the same. They just require a different type of bandage." Another smile, and Morgan felt her throat dry up.
The closeness was something she hadn't felt before, not with a stranger. It was new, different, just as strange as this whole damn situation. But she didn't pull away. Time seemed to drag on forever, almost like Spartan Time had kicked in.
And as soon as it had started, it was done, and Kris let go of Morgan's hand. Morgan swallowed, and nodded. "I hadn't thought of it that way…"
The older woman shrugged a bit, her smile growing back to that big grin she loved to wear. "Sometimes a change of perspective is needed. We don't all know everything, but we usually know a lot about something. It's important to connect with other people in hopes that they know something you don't, and maybe you know something they don't. You might just make a lifelong friend and a bunch of memories along the way too, hm?"
That got a bit of a smile from the Spartan. "You've got a nice way of looking at things."
A shrug. "Comes with the years. Plenty of people, plenty of things to learn." She stopped and seemed to think for a minute. "Piece of advice?" Morgan nodded. "Never stop learning. Reading might be a good hobby for you to take up. Educational texts for practical knowledge, and maybe fantasy, just as a little treat for yourself."
"Fantasy?"
Kris leaned against the side of small entryway, just outside the door. "Magical stories about valiant knights rescuing princesses and slaying dragons. Or maybe just a few hundred pages of walking before anything happens if you like classics." Kris' smile grew a bit, amused at her own joke, even if Morgan didn't quite catch it. "I can send you a few over sometime, if you'd like?"
Another nod, and Morgan's smile came back. "I'd like that a lot."
"Perfect, I'm sure you'll love at least one of them. But for now, I won't keep you too much longer. You might get used to seeing me and then the spark would be gone!"
They both chuckled, and Morgan felt herself ease up a little. "I don't know about that, but thank you for coming over."
"Any time, Morgan. My door's always open as well, if you want to take the initiative."
"I'll do that some time."
At that, they shared their goodbyes, and Morgan waited a moment before shutting the door. Some weight had been taken off of her shoulders, and she sighed softly. The couch seemed inviting for once, and she had made her way over, sitting down on it and pulling her legs up, holding them close as she sat there pondering over the conversation, trying to take her neighbor's words to heart.
Maybe she should try going into town. She needed to get things. Food, maybe. Something she had to make. A way to force herself to move and think. A muscle gone untested would only weaken, and she couldn't let herself weaken. But what to get?
What sounded like a whimper escaped her, and she buried her face against her knees, curling into a ball until she let herself fall over onto her side. Green eyes opened halfway, and she felt tired. She'd done nothing, had slept more than she wanted to, why did she feel so tired?
A groan came next, and she released her legs, stretching them out until they were laid over the other end of the couch. She was too tall to fit onto it fully stretched out, but it didn't matter. Her arms stretched above her, and she grabbed the remote to the large screen set into the wall in front of her, pressing the power button and attempting to escape the sound of her thoughts and this tiredness she hadn't felt since the Ark had fallen.
A grid of symbols and words replaced the black screen with color and activity. She stared at it for a moment, before selecting one at random. It was a video application, one filled to the brim with all manner of videos from when Humanity had first spread across the internet up to the newest things that had come up only seconds before in some part of Human space.
She scanned through the near-endless catalogue, before she stopped on a music catalogue. Her frown grew deeper for just a moment as she wondered what had made her stop, but cast the frown away as she selected it and clicked the option to show her something at random before her hand dropped, her arms coming to rest on her stomach as she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. Maybe music could help.
The sound of horns filled her ears, filtering out of the speakers clearly, until a drum beat took their place, sounding almost primal to a warrior who'd heard them when facing off against Brutes on distant worlds. Words started up in a low voice, singing along with the drums while Morgan's mind started to paint pictures in a way she'd never thought to before.
Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away
Where innocence is burned, in flames
A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead
I'm frozen to the bones, I am
A soldier on my own, I don't know the way
I'm riding up the heights, of shame
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest
I'm ready for the fight, and fate.
Those green eyes opened again, and she looked back to the screen, lyrics playing across it with the visualizer that had been set along with it. Smoke and flames filled the inky black of the background and the fire jumped to match the horns that came back into play. She swallowed, fighting past a lump that was suddenly in her throat as the drums snuffed out the horns.
Her heart rate was rising in time with it, and she felt that familiar feeling of adrenaline flooding her body. Time seemed to slow down, and she forced herself to watch the lyrics, to listen to the rest of the song that had come across her.
A mind tempered by war was reminding her that these things were familiar in their own way. Horns were new, but the drums were not. Brutes had, more than once, started up a drum beat in the darkness that had set across dozens of worlds she'd been on. They would fight during the day, and at night they would celebrate the day's conquests. Elites had no similar events, but she remembered the Brutes far too well.
A flashback, back to the ruins of New Alexandria. She had fought all day, had fallen from space and lost Jorge, and had been pushed to her limit. She remembered setting her bird down on another building, ready to go in and clear it out, to demolish a jamming device. Human resistance in the city had been all but wiped out, and the glassing had started. She'd snuck through the building, weapon up and ready, and passed up through three stairwells that had opened to a large, open lobby.
Bones were cast aside, one skittering into the opening to the stairway she'd just left. She'd hid again, barely, just long enough to notice that the bones weren't alien. They were Human. The drum had started again, the sound of Brutes beating against the floor in time with it, howling a guttural song that her translator had failed to decipher.
They'd never finished it. Flashes of gunfire, her DMR's bolt joining the drumbeat as it slammed back and released each spent round before replacing it. A rhythm of her own had brought down the entire pack. For once, the Brutes had been the victims of a massacre.
The song came to an end, the drums faded away, and New Alexandria did with it. She frowned as she realized she had been surrounded by silence again, and it was deafening.
That had been a mistake.
She turned the screen off, setting the remote back where she'd picked it up. A tablet sat next to it, and she grabbed it, thumbing the power button with an urge to see anything but the ghosts from her past.
Something was there to meet her this time, other than the clock that told her that she'd been trapped in her mind for less than five minutes. A message sat waiting under a familiar name, the preview showing her more than enough to bring a smile to her face as she opened it and read through it.
Hey! I'll be in your neck of the woods soon, orders changed with the drawdown and my unit got the short end of the stick, so I have to pack allllll my stuff up -Again-. But I'll be able to come bug you now! Only like… an hour drive or so. So get used to me because I've gotta show you everything you've been missing out on! Send me your address and I'll make you regret it!
The smile grew a little more as she looked over it again, and again, and then again. Her fingers had a mind of their own, typing out her response, and the clouds that had been covering her mind dissipated. There wouldn't be time for moping if Hocus was around, if their first trip into civilization together was anything to go by. She had an almost limitless reservoir of energy, a sense of humor that worked by bouncing off of anything.
Then it hit her. She only had one bed, and no idea how to prepare for a second one. Something felt wrong about the pilot sleeping on her couch. It wasn't uncomfortable by any means, but the thought of it bothered her. Looking for the front door, Morgan almost stared through it, straight at her neighbor's house, and she knew what she had to do. Grabbing her tablet and sliding it into her pocket, she grabbed her keys from the table next to the front door.
She'd take Kris up on that offer of hers.
A month passed. Morgan had acclimated a little better. She had learned to cook her own food, had learned to find music that made her feel good instead of dragging her demons out. Kris had been instrumental in it, to the point that Morgan had grown far closer to her, and the older woman was genuinely a pleasure to spend time with.
They went back and forth from the other's home to do different things. Morgan had been invited to dinner with Kris and her husband, partly under the guise of socializing her, and partly to help her learn how to cook. The first few times had been a mess, but Kris had only laughed and reassured her that everyone made mistakes.
Even Spartans
That had filtered through her mind each time, learning to take it to heart. Kris had introduced her to family, her two children visiting at one point. One had been a Marine, had fought on Earth during the defense of Chicago. When their eyes had met, Morgan had seen that familiar pain in his eyes that they had all felt. She wasn't sure if he had recognized her, but hopefully he hadn't. They had all become her friends though, and she'd slowly met the others on her street.
More importantly, even now, she looked back to when Kris had agreed to go into the town proper, to buy a new bed to fit into one of her rooms. Kris hadn't expected Morgan's driving, though. Years of defensive driving in warzones had colored her tendencies, where even though she was following the law, it was close enough to wild that Kris had held on tight, worried she'd have a heart attack as the big woman maneuvered the equally large Warthog through traffic and spaces it never should have been able to fit through.
It had been a good outing, despite that, and she was fond of it. One of her first true memories as a civilian that made her feel good. Some shopping, some learning, and a nice lunch. They were small things, things that most people wouldn't think about, but Morgan treasured them.
A month of preparation for her friend's visit, and something filled Morgan. It was… glee. She was giddy, energy filling her with excitement. Each day, she ticked off a mental box as she waited, until the day had finally come.
Her television had been used more, and she had learned to spend her time honing new skills like the cooking, and she debated on tending a garden. Creating, rather than destroying. It would be nice, she thought.
Movies had taken her attention as well. Hours would disappear as she let herself get dragged into the millions of stories that had been given their own films, brought to life on the silver screen. Morgan had learned to love science-fiction, fantasy, and had a soft spot for romantic comedies. They made her laugh, and she decided that laughing was a good feeling. It was something she wanted to feel more often.
One of them had her attention when she heard the sound of a door slamming outside. It wasn't far enough to be a neighbor's car, and she didn't get visitors.
Until now.
Rising up off the couch, she took a look outside the window at the person who'd stopped in her driveway. What she saw had her stunned for a moment.
The woman who got out of the silver car, looking alien next to her own rugged Warthog, was completely different when not wearing a uniform. Golden brown hair was alight in the sun, wavy and unkempt now that a uniform wasn't demanding it be held in a bun. Gentle features and tan skin, chocolate colored eyes hidden by a pair of silver mirrored aviators. Denim jeans were slightly baggy, and whatever shirt she was wearing was covered by a dark windbreaker, one with a symbol on the chest and some text that even Morgan couldn't read just yet.
But, caught looking through the window as she was, Hocus looked inside through the blinds, spotting the woman standing there, and she flashed a toothy grin that made Morgan more than aware of her own heartbeat, slowly increasing in tempo.
But then she disappeared, and the doorbell rang with a knock to follow. Morgan was quick to go to it, to unlock it and pull it open. Hocus – Amber – still had that grin in place, her sunglasses taken off and hooked onto the zipper of the windbreaker.
"Miss me?"
Morgan couldn't help but grin and nod, feeling herself relax in the presence of the other woman. "I did. I have to thank you, for making me get out of my house."
Amber stepped inside, an eyebrow quirked. "Yeah? How'd I do that?"
"I had to buy another bed. Making you sleep on the couch felt wrong."
"Wouldn't be the first time I've slept on a couch when staying with a friend."
Morgan shrugged. "My bed is more comfortable than the couch, when I use it. I thought it'd be the same for you."
"When you use it?"
Morgan's smile faltered slightly. "I've… had some issues since getting out."
Amber's grin dropped, but she didn't look angry. "Trouble sleeping?"
"You could say that."
Amber took in a breath and slowly let it out as she thought about what Morgan was saying. "We can work on it, figure out something to help you when things get bad."
Morgan's eyes met Amber's, and her mind flashed back to the drinks they'd shared. "How do you deal with it?"
Amber gave her another smile, but it was a little awkward this time. "I have plenty of ways, but they don't work the same for each person. Like, for instance, I use booze to sleep if I really need to, but I don't think that would be good for you."
Morgan hummed, remembering how she'd felt the next day. "Yeah, probably not…"
Amber shook her head, forcing the smile to be more genuine. "Let's not worry too much about that. We'll learn as we go and I don't want you to spend the entire time worrying about that. Gotta take the rays of sunshine when you can, right?"
Morgan nodded, forcing the dark cloud away from her mind. "Right."
"So," Amber started again, "what do you do for fun around here?"
"I… uh, I don't."
Amber's eyebrow bent again as she looked into the other woman's eyes. "You don't? Nothing at all?"
"Well, not around here. I stay home a lot, but I like to watch movies. I like the stories they tell."
Amber's grin was back in full force now, realizing she had something to grab on to. "Movies? What kind have you liked the most? We'll order pizza or whatever else this place has for takeout and have a movie marathon, it'll be great!"
Amber moved around Morgan, towards the couch, and flopped down onto it, grabbing at the remote. Morgan followed after, more careful with how she sat down. "Well, it's all over the place. If a story is interesting, then I like it. Action stuff is nice, it gets my blood pumping sometimes seeing the things that happen. I also like… what's it called?" She wrung one of her hands, a habit she'd developed when trying to think. "Romantic comedies. I don't understand them entirely, but… they make me smile."
A low laugh from Amber as she powered the television on. "That's what they're supposed to do. It's a good thing. They're all the same to me, since most of them are cookie cutter plots. What's your favorite rom-com then?"
Morgan, momentarily bewildered by the shortening, narrowed her eyes before answering. "That's a difficult question, but I lean more towards the older movies."
"Older?"
"From the early 21st century. Something about them just feels… better. Like there's not so much to worry about. No colonies, no insurrection, just the people in them."
A whistle, one that made Morgan flinch. "Damn, you really went deep on them then. How the hell did you even get that far back?" She was already switching the display to show romantic comedies from that time period, a list of movies on Morgan's to-watch list showing up. She grabbed the first one without thinking.
"The automated list showed me them as I went on, and I got stuck there." Morgan shrugged, before looking back to the tv and seeing the movie that had been chosen wasn't just a favorite movie, but likely her favorite from the genre, and she felt a jolt of excitement. "I love this one. I've seen it a few times already."
With her brow wrinkling, Amber pressed another button, seeing the title, and she couldn't help but laugh and groan at the same time. "You like it that much?"
"What's wrong with it?" Morgan asked, slightly defensive.
"Nothing at all, Morgan. I'll pause it and start ordering food. Is there anything you like in particular?"
"I'll eat anything."
"Good woman. I'm gonna take a quick trip to the head, order a surprise, and we'll get this party started. You've got me for three days and I'm gonna shake your world up!"
Morgan smiled, but inside, she panicked. What had she gotten herself into?
A little under two hours later, the movie was coming to a close, and food had been scattered across the two tables next to the couch and the longer table in front of it. Both women were stuffed full of as much food as either could eat and more than comfortable in the poses they'd taken.
They'd talked for a decent amount of the movie, joking and laughing at the expense of the man, a marine veterinarian, and the lengths to which he'd gone to catch the attention of a woman who'd lost her short term memory, and ultimately managing to marry her in the end of it.
"Not bad for an old movie, huh?" Morgan asked, glancing over at her friend with a grin.
"I've never seen any of the movies by this particular actor or director, but I know he was infamous for them. I think I liked the guy who played, uh… shit, what was his name? The islander with all the kids?"
"Ula?"
"Yeah, Ula. Apparently the actor who played Ula was in almost all of the main character's early films and it was a cameo most of the time."
"I've seen a few others. I like all of them, but that one is my favorite. I could watch it a hundred times and never grow tired of it."
"Yeah? Well put on another one. I'll watch whatever you want."
Morgan felt a grin coming to form on her face, one that she couldn't stop even if she tried. "You sure?"
"I'm sure, I promise."
That was all she needed to know that Amber was genuine. "Alright, I'll put another one on."
Another movie was playing soon after, again with the same actor in the lead role. They spent the rest of the night laughing at whatever antics the movies had him getting up to, pointing out the cameo in every one of them, until the darkened room was lit up by the early morning's gray skies leaking through the curtains.
Morgan was still wrapped in the movie, and as the credits rolled, she looked over to Amber. "Anoth-" She started to ask if her friend wanted to subject herself to another movie, only to notice Amber had fallen asleep on the couch, mouth hanging open, arms crossed.
With a light smile, Morgan turned off the television and slowly gathered Amber up in her arms. It didn't take much effort at all to carry the other woman up and into the guest bedroom that she'd made for when Amber finally arrived. Cradling her in one arm with ease, Morgan pulled the blanket down and laid Amber in the bed, managing to get her shoes off easily before covering her up again, and escaping the quiet room without a sound.
Cleaning up didn't take too much longer, the dishes going to the sink and the takeout boxes going into the trash. All was as it had been when the other woman had arrived, and Morgan made her way up to her own room, sliding into her bed with a lightness that she hadn't felt in… ever, it seemed like.
There was no tossing and turning, no rolling about in a bed that didn't feel safe. It took only moments for Morgan to fall asleep and drift off, a smile on her face and a heart that was unburdened by the ghosts that had haunted her the day before, before her friend had come and pushed those clouds away.
Take the rays of sunshine when you can indeed.