One glass, two glasses, three glasses of moonshine later, Tennessee knew he had more than his fair share of spirits. Zach the bartender paid no heed to his stupor state, he polished the glass he held to a fine shine with a rag that had seen better days. The night was muggy, even after being on Origae-6 for over a month, he still couldn't get used to the stifling humidity. The tent where the makeshift bar was set was too brightly lit for his liking, he preferred the dark, dingy corners of a dive bar compared to this. Maggie would have agreed. Agreed. Past tense, not present. Wife burning up like the fourth of July as Walter had so eloquently put it. He needed a friend right now, Daniels wasn't there to offer support. Her mysterious illness only worsened since their arrival to the colony, the hollow of her eyes a bruised purple, the rest of her skin tinged blue. Fucking blue. Walter said she was simply having trouble adapting to atmospheric conditions. Didn't buy what the synthetic said for as far as he could throw him.

A generous gulp of alcohol is taken from the glass he cradles, eyes half-lidded from the buzz. Flies circle near his frame, the high-pitched noise they emit has him swatting half-heartedly at them, lacking the energy to put up a fight. The pilot makes a go at the bartender, flipping his glass over to show it was empty. Zach frowns as the last bit of moonshine meets the plastic bar table with a soundless plop, rag quickly swept over where the rogue drop landed. Taking the glass with a shake of his head, the bartender puts it in the plastic bin where the other dirty glasses sit, giving Tennessee a stern warning.

"You've had enough, nearly 1:00 am. Go home."

He snorts obnoxiously, waving the man over. The strap of his apron is grabbed in a firm hold, bloodshot eyes telling a different story.

"Wanna 'nother. Now."

"No way in hell. Nine glasses of moonshine is pushing it."

Shoved gruffly back, Tennessee spits on the ground, manifesting a joint to keep the haze going.

"For Maggie. Kay?"

"You said that same line for the last three shots." He drawls out.

Shit. This fucker isn't going to budge, is he?

Rubbing at his overgrown beard thoughtfully, he lights the joint with practiced ease, blowing smoke at Zach's face. Eyes stinging at the assault of burning smog, Zach motions the man to compensate by giving him a joint, complying. The two men smoke in silence, last souls in an otherwise empty bar. Making his way around the counter, he leans his left hip against it for support, combing back his afro. Motions at Tennessee to answer for his inebriated state, the pilot laying his head on the counter, right cheek squished at the pressure.

"Things have been fucked up man. My best friend, hell my only friend won't make time for me. Always with Walter."

"The synthetic?"

"Yeah, their relationship is so weird. She's hostile but goes along with his bullshit. Swear on my wife's grave, at one point I thought I caught him speakin British."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, for real. Uh-huh."

The bartender thoughtfully rubs at his goatee, eyeing the man curiously. He settles down into the plastic white stool next to the sullen man, smoke trailing. After another hit, he hesitates before speaking his mind.

"You know, I overheard some kids the other day talking about him. Uh… some tomboy and her friend, real fruitcake…"

"And…?"

"Well, I'm sayin you might be right. Kids were talking shit about him, all secretive and crap. I remember meeting Walter, totally different machine then he is now."

Spare glass in the air, he toasts to what the bartender sagely imparts on him, smirking.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one. Girl didn't happen to have a cat with her, did she?"

"Actually, she did. Cute little fella, Jonesy, I think?"

"That's Ellen, pain in my fucking ass!"

Coughed laughs punctuate his statement, vision blurring as tears tried to lubricate dried eyes. The bartender leans in to speculate, skeptical of his assessment.

"Kid's like all the others. Fucked up from loosin loved ones, s'all."

"That happened to lose her marbles and went ape shit crazy when the captain was done notifying people of their loved one's deaths for the day."

"Hell, I would have too. Death fucks you up the ass like a motherfucker."

"I hear ya but she rushed the whole goddamn line, man. Pulled some ninja moves, crazy fast."

"Wait-, Zach pauses, eyes brightening in realization, -that's the kid who caused that shitstorm 'bout two weeks ago!?"

Tee didn't need to say a word, his resentful scrunched up face said it all.

"Well, word of advice. When I heard her at breakfast, she said the exact same shit you were saying, British accent, etc. Keep in mind I didn't hear the whole thing when eavesdroppin. Claimed too that the captain called him David."

"Seriously?"

He leans in close, smacking his dry mouth loudly. The joint is nearly gone, the bud a dying amber. A second follows. Third given to the bartender.

David, fucking David!? What in God's fucking name is going on!?

This abrupt epiphany makes him want to retch the poison from his body, needing a clear body and mind to think. Face pinched trying to get some semblance of sobriety, he speaks shakily at his companion, wary of the information he further has to impart.

"I know Walter looks exactly like the old David 8 models but he's a completely different model. Why would Daniels refer to him as David? Makes no goddamn sense."

Zach shrugs without care, smashing his finished joint in the too white ceramic ash tray.

"Your guess is as good as mine. All I know for sure is that Ellen was fucking terrified and that she's plotting something."

Daniels never talked in detail about what transpired back on planet 4 with him, there wasn't enough time when repairs had to be made, the remaining crew recuperating from the horrors they bared witness to. Then cryosleep commenced shortly after for another 7 years. He did know enough however that she and Lope had encountered an older model in the same likeness as Walter. The obsolete David 8.

Wait a second, what if this isn't Walter and…fuck me sideways, this would explain everything that's been happening the last month! Then again, Ellen could be pulling this out of her ass, hates synthetics, may be an excuse to get back at him for what he did to her. Fuck me, I'm not sure what to think…

A hand is waved in front of his face, bringing him back to reality.

"Hey, I like a good story as much as the next bartender but I gotta get home. Wife's expecting me by now."

"Uh, yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Thanks for the talk, appreciate it."

"Hey, anytime. Part of the job description, ya know?"

With a mock salute, he heads in the direction of the kitchen around back, dishes clanging in the bin he brings to wash. Tennessee stumbles off the stool, nearly falling on his behind. Taking several deep breaths, the flap to the tent is opened haphazardly, a blast of mucky air coating his face. Walking back home, he contemplates on how to proceed the precarious situation. Flies act as his entourage, mere feet behind, their ever-watchful eyes present.

Well, one thing is for sure. He thinks, grimly.

I'm gonna have to keep an eye out for Ellen, she might very well be on to the shit that's been going down. At least now I have the motivation to do something other than getting pissed drunk every night. Maggie wouldn't want to see me like this, it would break her heart.

Looking to the sky, the stars show dimly, barely visible to the naked eye. Hat taken off, it rests on his chest as he makes a vow to his dearly departed wife.

I'll get to the bottom of this. Don't you worry Maggie, I'll protect these people with all I've got."

Dreams were impossible for a synthetic. Sleep was a myth, the closest they came to a state of near death was when updates were implemented, processors cognitive of the procedure the whole time it took place. What Walter experienced right now wasn't an update. Code did not flash before his ocular senses, percentages didn't ping when nearing completion of a software update. This, for lack of a better term, was a dream. Change was about, how he was evolving or devolving concerned him greatly. It wasn't a particular fantastic dream, he stood in a vast empty chamber with an indiscernible light shining from high above. Elizabeth was there oddly enough, cheeks a healthy rose color as she sipped on a cup of steaming hot tea, sitting crossed legged on the ground across from him.

She remains silent, glancing up briefly to see his reaction. Continues to sip at her tea. Bewildered, he finds himself sitting down, deeply engaged in studying the gray non-descript floor. Noise comes out without warning, his lips whistling twinkle, twinkle little star to calm his nerves. Calm? Never feeling such unease before, he questions these new feelings he has experienced since his awakening, aware that years sans of updates had a most undesired effect on his hardware. Feelings he wasn't supposed to have but were being experienced regardless. Now fear was being felt. He hated the feeling of fear most of all. It made him less than adequate to serve those he swore to protect. How could he possibly save the Covenant, let alone Daniels if these emotions got in the way? The noise stops, hands fidgeting against one another. Elizabeth breaks the silence, voice echoing in the endless space encompassing them.

"So, you seemed less than please to be here right now. What's on your mind?"

"On my mind?" He states blankly. His cool monotone didn't betray what he was really feeling, only his fidgeting did.

"The limitations of your programming have broken down since your time in limbo. You're becoming more human, in the psychological sense of the word. How does this make you feel?"

Hesitating, he takes several deep breaths, knowing that the effect of calm it would have would be simply psychosomatic. It worked. He didn't like that either.

"I'm able to identify the feeling of being scared. I don't like these feelings, emotions. They're in the way of me being at full compacity to serve my mission. If I become like David- "

"-you won't." She cuts him off, a generous helping of hot tea warming her. Looking him straight in the eye, her assurance is comforting, knowing that she had faith in him. Faith. The cross. It rests against his chest, shining with an inner light. She smiles, gestures at the totem around his neck.

"Glad to see you've taken up my faith. I've only just realized my soul is bound to that necklace. It was my father's, then mine. Now it's yours. Keep good care of it."

"Bound?" His voice echoes.

"Yeah." She gently smiles, renewed at this finding. "Looks like I'll be with you the whole way. My journey even after my death can't stop me. I'll help you as best I can, be your guide."

Eyes crinkling in mirth, she sets her finished cup of tea aside, leaning in to study the wary synthetic. He unconsciously pulls back, skin palling at her searching gaze. She laughs lowly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm here to help, don't be afraid of change. I'll help you through it."

"How?"

"When you dream-, she murmurs, eyes closed-, I'll be here if you need someone to talk to. It's the least I can do, interaction when you're awake is impossible. When your soul is in this state of in-between is the only time I can communicate with you. Take advantage of that, please."

Still hesitating, he sighs in defeat, one slight nod confirming his agreement.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. I'm finally getting the answers I've been seeking all along. So much to discover…" She trails off, a wistful look softening her features. "I would like to know more about the Covenant, about Daniels. You're aware it's the very reason you haven't crossed over. Could you show me a memory of them? I want to know more about these people you care so much about."

"A memory? They're numerous, I'm not sure what exactly you want to see."

"Pick one Walter, it doesn't matter. Whatever stands out to you."

The phobos fear test is the first thought that comes to mind, the events following that day holding great significance not only for him but the entire crew. The promise he made to Captain Jacob, this memory stood out above all.

"It was a few weeks before the launch of the Covenant. The phobos fear test we were required had finished, the crew wanting to celebrate its completion…"

"I'm sorry, can you please repeat that?"

"I said-, Daniels voice is strained over the loud ruckus in the bar, face flushed red, - what did you think of that fear test today? Thought it was a waste of time personally."

Taking several seconds to process her question thoughtfully, his hard drive analyzes the personal results of his own test, relaying the video sequences in particular.

"I would not call it a waste of time. It served its purpose to test the mental willingness of the Covenant's crew."

"Seriously? Come on Walter, it was so boring."

Her face is close to his, the sour smell of beer hitting his nostrils. Mainly consisted of hops with valencia orange peel. The fragrance suited her. Wait, why was he even contemplating this? Blinking several times, he responds with a voice as neutral as the smile that goes with it.

"My programming does not allow me to experience boredom, therefore I cannot give you an answer that would comply with the comradery you're seeking."

"Bullshit! You're saying that because Weyland-Yutani is listening in on us. Come on, you know that I know that."

Laughing, she takes several more sips from the large draught in her hand, leaving a thin layer of foam on her upper lip. The sudden urge to wipe the stain from her lips has him raising his right hand resting in his lap, stopping almost immediately as his sensors deem the act unnecessary. Jacob Branson finally showing up proves to be a welcomed relief, Tennessee's arm draped around his shoulder adjoined with his signature glass of whiskey.

"Hey Babe! Walter, good to see you. How did that test go for you guys?"

"Two hours of my life wasted, what do you think!? You went through the same stupid thing yesterday!"

"Hey, just wanted to know what my better half thought." He chuckles while he leans over the booth to give her a quick peck on the lips, smile lopsided from the alcohol.

"What about you Walter? Wanna know what our lead synthetic thought!" His genuine enthusiasm is contagious, smiling at the captain's antics.

"The only synthetic on board, need I remind you?" Responding appropriately, his open smile shows enough teeth to indicate friendliness. "A most necessary exercise, in my opinion. To test the mettle of the crew, of course."

"Meh. Glad I got it over with yesterday, took a hell of a lot less time than you two. It took you the longest, right man?"

"It did though I'm not sure of the parameters they were specifically seeking."

"Hey, who gives a shit, really?" Tennessee interjects, drink sloshing onto the fine mahogany floor of the bar. "Glad that shit's over with. Gotta sit down my fat ass, come on, move your asses."

Daniels rolls her eyes, Walter willing complying as they made room for the men. Jacob inquisitively looks at his wife and synthetic crew mate, confused.

"Was expectin a party here, where's the rest of the gang?"

"Getting our drinks dear." Daniels dryly states, brow arched playfully.

The captain glances over his shoulder, noticing in the far-left corner Maggie and company attempting to get the bartender's attention, the drinking hole swamped by customers. Lope pounds the bar several times in distress, his lover's face crestfallen as he takes one last swig of his near empty drink. Upworth along with his wife Ricks play a balancing act, a platter of drinks held in each hand, the distinct smell of alcohol wafting towards them.

"Hey captain, good to see you're joining us! Got us a couple of drinks to keep going, Lope's still battering for more, here, take one."

Ricks hands him a cold dark brewed beer, Jacob taking the drink gratefully even as it spills onto his hand.

"Oh shit, sorry- "

"-Hey, it's cool, no worries. Would be a goddamn pansy if I freaked out over a bit of spilled beer, wouldn't I?"

Mentally sighing in relief, she smiles back easily, distributing the rest of the drinks. Tennessee greedily grabs two more, Daniels swatting at him with false anger.

"Tee, I know you love beer as much as the next person, but share a little, alright?"

"Yeah, no can do darlin. Besides, the 2nd drink is for Maggie."

Oh sure." She enviously eyes the spare drink, trying not to break her poker face. "Always a good husband, aren't ya?"

"Damn straight."

"You lie like a rug man." Jacob interjects, trying to contain his booming laughter. It's released without warning, the group laughing as a whole, Walter included. They stay like that conversing for several minutes until the rest show up, Maggie giving a barely discernable glare at their synthetic crew mate.

"Wish he would leave already." She mumbles under her breath to her husband, mouth pressed into a thin line. He shrugs his shoulders indifferently, laxed smile still gracing his lips.

"Hey, he's alright for a synthetic, Mags. Dani invited him after all, he's an important member of the crew. Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm doing that later."

Her hand smacks playfully upside his head, all traces of annoyance gone.

"We'll see about that, Mr. Faris."

Hours pass, work discussed with increasingly less enthusiasm the more they drank. Walter is sober, alcohol unable to compromise his system. This does not diminish his enjoyment however, it was fascinating to him to see the humans in a more natural state outside of their work environment. Daniels and Tennessee were most amusing according to his personal analysis. She always managed to hold his attention no matter what, not that he had any difficulty paying attention to the rest of the crew. There was just something about her that made him focus more attentively than he was conscious of. But what? Thought dropped quickly, the synthetic resumes conversation with his crew. The night flies by, before they know it, they're saying their goodbyes outside the bar. Daniels, Jacob and Walter are last to depart, chatting for several more minutes. Huddled in the doorway with her winter coat snuggly against her frame, she gives her husband a dour look, exhale coming out like miniature clouds.

"Jake, I know you boys are deeply engaged in your very fascinating conversation about Origae-6 right now but I'm freezing to death here. I'll be waiting in the car."

The captain blushes, mouthing the words, "Just a few more minutes", gloved index finger raised in promise. She heads off down the street, moonlight reflecting on her slight build as she makes way to her vehicle. Walter bows slightly in apology, making a point to look at the watch on his left wrist.

"I'm sorry to keep you captain, I know you and Daniels must be exhausted. Best if I head off to corporate, they'll be wanting a report of my day."

"Hey, I was the one who started it, not you. Seriously though, I'm glad you're taking the time to discuss the mission with me. The others get tired of me blabbering on about it. Appreciate it, buddy."

Hand clamped on his left shoulder in a brotherly gesture, Jacob's eyes twinkle joyfully, grin taking up his whole face. Walter responds in kind, nodding his head, expression matched. Turning on his heel to meet his wife, he pauses, suddenly serious.

"Hey, uh, before I go, I have a favor to ask of you."

Walter brow furrows, forehead crinkled at his superior's hesitancy.

"What is it captain?"

"It's about Dani. She's tough, considering her upbringing. But…"

"Yes?"

"I could use someone to look out for her, keep an eye on her. Friends are few and far between, I notice you guys are real close. She's a more quality than quantity kind of person, you know?"

He blinks, puzzled at what he's trying to get at.

"What would you like me to do, captain?"

"Just…, -he rubs at his messy, curly hair sheepishly, voice shy-, …be there for her when she needs someone to talk to, that's all. Being a military brat, her mother raised her to be real independent. A lot of times she keeps her frustrations to herself, venting only when she's at her breaking point. If anything happens to me, god forbid, stay by her side. Can you do that?"

Not needing to be told twice, his response is given in earnest.

"Of course, sir. Anything to serve you and Daniels."

"Thanks man. Seriously." His face shines gratefully, tension leaving his shoulders

With one final wave, they depart, going their separate ways. Walter files the memory away in his personal files, not wanting the company to think he was giving preferential treatment to the couple. They've grown into what humans would identify as close friends, Jacob's request wasn't unreasonable. He was very close to her after all, being his first friend. It would be an honor to stay at her side, really. Duty dictated that. A small voice in the back of his head said friendship did too.

Author's note: So for those of you still keeping an eye on this story, I've decided to upload this chapter. Truth be told, I published this on another site months ago without bothering to upload it here. I'm just not the biggest fan of fanfiction's formatting system. I try to add spaces between sentences and save it to the document but it doesn't register it for some reason. Makes it easier to post it on the other site.

Anyway, sorry for being an incredible d-bag for not posting it here until now. lol XD I don't know if I'm aloud to say this here but the most recently published chapters can be found on of archive of our own. Don't wanna get in trouble, just a note for peeps who would like to read the most recent iteration of this story. Probably will upload more chapters when I feel like it. Procrastinators unite tomorrow as the old saying goes.