The Seraph's Broken Wings
By: Sinead

Chapter Two

Arbiter's head suddenly felt too light. "Wh-what do you have to do?"

The obstetrician chuckled kindly, her smile easing back onto her face. She had asked long ago to get the translator programs for her neural implant, and was well-pleased with her decision. "Willow wants to birth the triplets naturally, but her body wouldn't be able to take the strain. She knows that, and told me that I would be the better one to tell you."

"You have to cut into her to birth the children?"

"It's called a caesarian-section, and it's been used for hundreds of years. It's a safe procedure."

"But you have to cut . . ."

"Yes. She asked to at least birth one of them, and we're willing to let her do that. You'll be able to deliver the firstborn child, if you like. I know that it's custom with your kind for the husband to assist in birthing the children." She rested her hand upon the Elite's arm. "So don't worry. Everything that we're doing is safe."

"I . . . don't . . ."

A hefty, open-palmed blow on his back caused him to stumble a step forwards, seeing his seven-month-old children clinging to John, gibbering away. Their physical development was twice as fast as a human's would be in the first three years of life, and they were already walking and running, but complete maturation took as long as a human's did. The Spartan shrugged slightly. "She knows that she has to help you raise all these wild beings. Don't make her worry about you, too."

"I . . . don't think that I could keep myself from . . ."

"Passing out? Arbiter, it's a common medical procedure. Don't worry about it."

"She is all right with it, you said?" Arbiter asked, turning back to the woman doctor.

"Believe me. She doesn't want it done, but she knows that it's the healthiest way for both her and the children," was the reply.

Sibilee reached for his father, babbling the word for "mother," clearly wanting to see her. After a deep sigh, Dragon nodded. "So be it. If she is fine with it, then I will always support her decision."

They were brought back to the dimmed room, where both Yukae and Sibilee squealed with glee at seeing their adopted mother. Yukae went straight to the bed beside Willow, curling against the soon-to-be mother's side. Willow rested her hand upon the young Elite's head, smiling up at her husband. He nodded once, and the decision was final. Not the decision of the c-section, but of a more serious one; one that they had talked about through long, sleepless nights.

And she closed her eyes, whispering, "Kay, little sweetling, go back to your Uncle John. He's going to bring you and Sib to your cousins, all right?"

She heard a small whimper, then felt the child hug her in her young way, then move back over to be picked up by the Chief. Sibilee took her place, and she chuckled, telling him to look out for his younger sister, and to play nice with the "cousins," also known as the Spartan-IIIs. That next generation of the Spartans were wonderful with their Elite comrades, always willing to let a helping hand enter into their circle.

Provided, of course, that they could pass the rite of entry and kill a berserking Brute before said alien could kill them.

The thin wail caused Willow to sigh and lay back, smiling. Arbiter had wisely backed out of birthing the firstborn, instead posting himself by Willow's left. He wouldn't have known what to do in the first place. Yet both he and Willow had insisted that John stay in the room to be there for the birthing. The wailing infant was cleaned and brought up to her mother, who took the little girl and kissed her crown lightly. "The first of the identical two, and the third a boy. You're a little beautiful one, you are." She looked up at Arbiter, who only reached over to rest a finger upon the small cheek. Once his eyes found hers, renewing her faith in their decision, she looked at John. "Could you hold her, please?"

"Me?" John's voice cracked.

Trying not to laugh too hard, Willow nodded. "Come, now, you gave her life. Hold the child."

He smiled, feeling as if his massively-muscled arms were almost too strong, yet too weak at the same time, to hold the small girl-child, falling in love with her face the instant he did so. He sighed, feeling a terrible sense of loss start to form in his stomach. He was this child's biological father, but he knew that Arbiter would be adopting the children as his own. John had insisted upon that fact, ignoring his own heart's silent keening at its loss when the hope and chance to raise a child as his own was dashed.

"Are you ready, Willow?" the doctor asked.

Closing her eyes, sighing, she nodded, reaching up to grip the Dragon Arbiter's hand. He resolutely told his stomach to behave, and concentrated upon not passing out as he watched Willow's face, seeing her lock her eyes upon his for a brief moment before closing again. The remaining two were born without a snag, and soon both Willow and Arbiter were holding one each. She smiled at her little son, hearing his small murmurings. "What do you think of the name Keith, Dragon?"

"Mm . . . odd, in a way. Sounds strong, though."

"Fine. Come up with a better human one."

"M-me! Not a chance, woman! You're to name these two. I was told to name my twins, so you name these!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

John blinked from one to the other. "She's naming those two? Why not this one?"

Willow aimed her blue gaze at the father of her children, and one of the best friends she could ever have. "Because he's only adopting these two."

Something was strange here. The Chief sat as the words penetrated deeper into his mind. "What about her?"

Willow smiled, reaching over to tip his chin up so their eyes met. "She is yours to raise. Wait, listen to me, John. Don't think that I haven't seen your face, that I haven't been listening to your side of those late-night conversations we used to have before Arbiter came back. I know that you wanted to raise a family. That you wanted to raise these three with me. I told Dragon about those yearnings right after he came home to me, and he instantly suggested that since we were having triplets . . . why not allow one of them to at least be raised by their biological father?"

"You . . ." John whispered, looking at the Elite. "Why, though? I'm not . . ."

"Not what?" Arbiter asked. "Not worthy? I could have told you that, Demon, but even I don't believe it. You are worthy. You have kept Willow alive, you have given her reason, given her need, given her your complete trust and care, while not demanding a single thing in return. I am thankful that you gave her children, as I have already told you."

"If this is payment . . ."

"Hah!" Willow barked softly. "Never in the least." She smiled at him. "This is giving you a dream you've been dreaming." Her smile became more tender, her voice softening. "Name her."

John couldn't breathe, it felt, then looked down at the infant girl, seeing her eyes crack open slightly. He was shocked to see small wet drops appear upon the blanket that swaddled his child.

His child.

Wet drops . . . tears?

Yes, he was crying.

Sniffing massively once, he rubbed at his face, almost ashamed. But then again, he had never been so happy. Willow, she who mothered this child . . . she was blessing him with completing his dream, his world. And the Arbiter was agreeing with her . . .

"Phaedra." He smiled, looking up at Willow and the Elite behind her. Both were watching him, approving him, telling him through their gazes alone that they had long ago decided that it was only right for him to raise one of the three. "Phaedra . . ."

"Can't think of a middle name?" Willow teased lightly, reaching over to flick a tear off of his cheek almost-absently.

He shied away from her hand, giving her a look as he used the ball of his hand to rub at his face. "No. Not yet, anyway. What will you name those two?"

"Pandora Rhiann," Willow replied instantly, smiling at the girl in Arbiter's strong, gentle arms. She looked down at the small boy. "And I don't know about him yet. Both Phaedra and Pandora are Greek . . . so . . . drat. Oh, be useful and hand me that book, will you, Arbiter?"

He did so, brushing hair back from her shoulder as she opened the book. "Greek . . . Arri, from Aristotle; Kristopher with a 'K;' Cosmo," she grinned up at John. "Damon."

"Oh, don't go there," John groaned out. "I know that one of the meanings is 'demon.'"

Snickering, she resumed her search of fitting Greek names that she happened to like. "Doraen; Makarios; Orion . . . and then there's a whole slew of name-variations for Peter and Philip."

"Such as?" Arbiter asked.

"For starters, Paedar, Peder, Pedro, Perren, Pete, Pierce, Piers, Pierre, Pieter, Petro, Petr, Petros. I really can't see him answering to any of those names. Then for Philip, there's Felipe, Filippo, Pepe, Phil, Phillip, Philippe, Pip, Phip. Pip and Phip are nice, but he'd be mortified about them during his teenage years."

"What's after Philip?"

"Phineas. Egyptian. And Plato."

"I think we'd better find a name that fits him, rather than sticking him in with two sisters with the same first letter to the name. After all," Arbiter said, "there's Yukae and Sibilee to contend with."

Willow nodded, diving back into the name-searching. "Quirin doesn't have a known origin, and it has a nice sound; Ulysses; Zinon."

"Aristo . . . possibly. Damon with a variation?"

"Add in an 'E' to make Daemon?"

"Maybe. Doraen . . . Orion . . ."

"Orion sounds nice."

"Orion, then. What of his second name, Willow?"

She flipped through the book. "Orion Gabriel . . . Orion Michael . . . Orion Malachai?"

The Arbiter blinked at a few of the names she was passing. "John Orion."

Both humans blinked at him. He blinked back. "Junior?"

"All right, then," the orderly said after he was admitted into the room. "Have you chosen names? The adoption papers are here, everything's ready."

Willow went through the paperwork, seeing parts that had yet to be filled out. With a flick, she pulled out the adoption papers for the firstborn. "She'll be staying with her biological father."

The orderly blinked in complete shock. "But that's . . ."

"That is what?" Arbiter growled out.

"With him?"

"Yes, and there will be no questions asked. I noticed that you had no qualms about my adopting my wife's other two children. Care to explain, or will you do as you're told to?"

Clearing his throat, the orderly asked, "Firstborn's name? That is, the first of the two girls."

"Phaedra Taylor."

"Last name?"

John knew his original last name, but never had used it in all the years since his recruitment. For legal purposes, they had it changed when he was still too young to go against it. Besides. It sounded like what he was, and that pleased him. That was the one he was supposed to use. Blinking at the infant, he smiled slightly, not liking this orderly in the least. He'd give her his legal last name. "Spaldin."

Willow was holding back her laugher. John would snap at this man soon, if she didn't catch him. Well, of course, that is if she wanted to. Which she didn't. She had seen that small smile before, and knew that it only meant trouble.

"Next oldest was the other girl?"

"Pandora Rhiann," Willow replied. "And I'm going to spell out her last name for you."

"No need, please just say it."

Grinning up at Arbiter, she did, with all the correct pronunciation. "So do you want me to spell that? Or would you like for me to repeat it?"

The orderly cleared his throat. "Spell it, please?"

"V-o-u-z-a-k-u-a-m-e-e. And there's an apostrophe between the 'U' and the 'A.' Yep, that's right. Thank you."

By now, the orderly knew who he was dealing with. He saw the clipboard at the bottom of the woman's bed, and knew her name. He had heard of Sergeant-Major Willow Takayuurei Vouzaku'amee. He knew of the Elite she had married . . . and of his MIA status that had lasted two years and six months. He had heard of the Master Chief being the Sergeant-Major's only support in those years.

And something clicked into place in his mind. This was the Master Chief. This pale man with his proud, sad eyes . . . he was the hero of many battles. He . . . fathered these triplets.

Willow and John noticed the considerable pause in between asking the names of the newborns, and exchanged a knowing glance. No sooner than that had happened, than Johnson burst into the room, grinning. "So I missed seeing these three born? And all that that implies?"

"As if I would let you near my wife in any circumstance where she was not clothed properly," Arbiter replied.

The orderly nearly passed out. Four war-heroes in one room . . .

Vice-Admiral Keyes walked in as well, her face wreathed in a smile and her son sitting upon her hip. "What are their names?"

"We're working on that," Willow replied. "Seems as if this orderly has the audacity to think that us 'heroes' are anything but mortal." She looked at him. "So are you going to document my son's name, or are you going to stand there? The boys have to sign the adoption papers."

Clearing his throat, the orderly readied his stylus. "Name, please?"

"John Orion Vouzaku'amee."

"A junior!" Johnson exclaimed. "Ah-hah! I knew you were always a sap, Willow!"

"Can it, Johnson. Arbiter suggested it."

"Really? So he's the sap." The dark-skinned man melted anew at the sight of one of the infants yawning widely. "Aww, but they're so cute . . . Can I hold one?"

"Not a chance," John growled, signing the places where he was required to, still holding his Phaedra.

Miranda smiled, reaching over to rest her hand lightly upon John Orion's small, bundled side. "Congratulations, Willow. From one mother to another."

"Thank you," Willow replied. She looked at Johnson. "Hey, you! Go get my other two kids. You know, the noisy–"

"Yes, I know. The noisy bastards. And I can bet anything that they're with those blasted, no-good kiddies that they call the Spartan-Threes, and they'll never let me leave with the twins without an escort . . ." Johnson grumbled, retreating from the room.

Before long, Yukae and Sibilee crawled up onto the bed, seeing the triplets. But before they could be introduced, however, a Private First-Class ran into the room as the orderly crept out. He handed the Master Chief a datapad. Dismay wrote itself over the older man's face, and he sighed. "I'm being reassigned."

"What?" Willow asked softly. "To where?"

"A civilian post. A long-term mission in a suburb town in Massachusetts, south of Boston, helping Elites . . . the Sangheili, adapt to a new life. To help them and humankind 'get along' and cooperate."

"Crappy mission, but that's not too far away," Willow said. "The Spartan-Threes' base is just north-east of the old DC . . ."

"I have orders not to meet with any of the military in person."

Arbiter looked at the man. "Anything else?"

"That . . . I'm . . . blast it. I can't say it."

"ONI crapola again?" Willow asked.

"No. It's just hard to." He deleted the message, handing the pad back to the ensign, a clear dismissal. Once the boy was gone, he said, looking at Keyes, "It appears that you and I have to live together."

"At least my son looks enough like you," Miranda replied. "I knew about this mission for the last day, but didn't want to trouble you with it until the triplets were born. And I've put in for retirement from the war. I'm not needed in the military. There's enough people who are fresh enough and don't have a young son to worry about, and a dead husband to mourn. They understood."

Willow reached over to grip Miranda's hand. She had been there. She knew. "Don't forget to keep in touch when you do go."

"I have to leave tomorrow," John whispered. "I don't want to take Phaedra away from you so soon."

"You're not taking her," Willow said softly, reaching over to his face. He allowed her to rest her palm there this time. She smiled. "I'm letting her go. She'll be better off with you to raise her. She'll be strong." Her smile widened. "Now, Yukae, Sibilee, meet baby John, baby Pandora, and baby Phaedra. These are your new siblings."

Yukae giggled, reaching out delicately to touch Pandora while her father held the child. Sibilee crawled over to peer down at baby John, as quiet as his sister was vocal. Willow looked at John solemnly, letting him see through her face that she would miss him not being around.

He nodded slowly. He'd miss not being around her, as well.

The matter decided, they lightened their expressions, tending to the newborns and the children, Miranda's young Aiden watching Phaedra, pushing upon the Spartan's knee to get a better look at the infant.

But as Arbiter watched all this, all he could think of was that it was a horrendous shame and a virtual crime for ONI to break up their support group. The losses would be mourned.