A/N: Haha, wow, I'm an idiot for not updating here sooner, even though I wrote this chapter some time ago and posted it on ao3! My bad... (please don't be too mad at me *eep*)
...Here is chapter eight lol
So much emotions! Previous questions are answered, while further questions are raised...
Also, flashbacks are in italics, and they shift around a lot, which is why there's a strange break in the middle every now and then
Aboard UNSC Infinity, in orbit above Forerunner Shield World Requiem, Epoloch system, February 23rd, 2559
Captain Lasky looked up from reading Palmer's after action report when the doors to the bridge hissed, before sliding apart. The Master Chief strode in and stood at attention, snapping off a salute only when the Captain gave the Spartan his full attention. Lasky frowned, noting that the man's hands were shaking. It wasn't much, but enough to warrant concern. Something had happened yesterday; something that had shaken the stoic Spartan right to his core.
"Master Chief. Something you need?"
"Sir." The Spartan shifted and stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. He fell silent, almost as if he were waiting for the Captain to speak first.
Something was wrong. Something had happened that had hurt more deeply than the loss of Cortana. Because after he'd lost Cortana, the Chief was still trying to soldier on; putting on a brave face. But this time it was different. Every now and then the Spartan would twitch, almost as though he were shaking underneath all of that armour.
When silence had reigned for a solid five minutes, Lasky decided to try something that he hoped would help. "Come with me, Chief." He left the bridge, and felt just as much as heard the Spartan trailing after him. Once he reached his ready room and stepped inside, he stopped, addressing Roland. "I want all monitors to this room offline. And lock the door – I don't want anybody making their way in uninvited."
"Aye aye," the AI gave a salute, before his hologram winked off.
The Captain sighed wearily, and turned to the Master Chief, who was looking like he didn't know what to do with himself. Like he was questioning why he'd come to Lasky in the first place. "Chief, what happened? You're acting like you've lost someone close to you."
"It's... complicated." The Spartan released a weary sigh of his own, before lifting his helmet up and off his head, letting it drop to the ground. His face was ghostly pale, and oddly rugged-looking; he also looked extremely exhausted, and his sharp eyes reflected sadness. He made to rub the bridge of his nose, but stopped himself, realizing that he'd likely only break it since he was still in his armour. He then leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor in a sitting position. "I lost my sister yesterday." His voice was soft, ragged; full of grief.
"Chief, I'm so sorry." Tom knew what that was like. He'd had an older brother who he'd loved very dearly, and when Cadmon died, he felt like he no longer knew how to function. He wasn't even aware of the Chief even having a sibling aside from those who were like his family in Blue Team, but then, he'd seen the other Spartan-IIs returning with his own eyes. So this was a real sibling; a blood relative. The other reason he was able to judge that was due to the fact that the Chief seemed somehow... sadder... than he had been after Cortana had died. And it was a different kind of sadness, too. That was the very same sadness that he himself had felt when he'd lost his squadmates at Corbulo. This sadness was different. He wasn't entirely sure how he could tell; he just... knew that it was.
"The worst part was, I barely even knew her. I'd been in her company since... December last year?" the Spartan shook his head. "But I didn't even know she was my sister until just a week ago. I had a sister for a week and now she's just... gone." He closed his eyes and swallowed. "She was only twenty-six, and she was born when I was already on active duty for a few years. All this time and I never even knew... She was a damn good kid and one hell of a Spartan. I didn't even get to know her properly. She didn't deserve to get her life ripped away from her after all that ONI had done to her."
What the hell would the Office of Naval Intelligence have to do with one Spartan alone? Weren't all of the original Spartans under ONI's watchful eye? Did they even know that this Spartan was the Chief's sister? They must have, surely. They would have had something to do with it, if not everything. Aw hell, what if they're the reason for her existence in the first place? It would make sense to why the Chief's so beaten up over this. Because he wanted to protect her and now he can't and he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.
Poor bastard.
Lasky moved and sat beside the Chief, and even though he was quite sure the Spartan wouldn't feel it, he put a hand on one armoured shoulder. At least the show of support would help. "That must be hell, Chief. I'm sorry, I really am. If you just want to talk or... cry... or whatever you Spartans do to get emotions out... I'm here as a friend. I might be your superior officer, but whoever said you can't be friends with a superior officer and one who's the captain of a warship is a daft idiot."
There was a moment's silence; then a quiet, "Thankyou, Sir."
Lasky shook his head, half his mouth twitching into an amused smile. Even under emotional duress, the Spartan still had impeccable manners. It would have been funny, if not the situation currently so tragic. "Please, we don't need the formalities. You saved my life on Corbulo – didn't want to leave myself and Hastati behind, in fact – and I owe you one. Just call me Tom. Makes things a bit more friendly."
"Tom. Right."
"You are troubled."
Kat glanced up at the sound of the deep, slightly raspy, and definitely alien voice, and then frowned upon spotting a hinge-head sporting the crimson and ivory armour of the Swords of Sanghelios. She'd never trusted the creatures, even the ones that had allied themselves with humanity. She just couldn't bring herself to trust the very species that had almost wiped the human race out. Yes, it had been the Covenant as a whole, but many Spartan deaths had been attributed to the hinge-heads in particular, for Spartans and Elites were rather well-matched. So sue her for turning a cold shoulder to this one as it seated itself beside her – thankfully, not too close for comfort.
"You are in mourning."
That grabbed her attention. Her head whipped around so fast she swore she would have given herself whiplash had she not been augmented, and she scowled at the squid-head. This close, she could see that its – his? She wasn't so sure it deserved to be called anything other than it even though its voice sounded masculine – eyes were green, and its four jaws were filled with rows of white, sharp teeth. Her own azure eyes narrowed at the creature, lip curling downwards into a sneer. "What would you know about mourning?"
A chuffing sound emanated from the back of its throat. "You may find it hard to digest, but humans and Sangheili are not so very different in some ways. In other ways, we are very different. You are... as your kind says, "easy to read in the face"."
"You mean you can read my facial expression with ease?" the Spartan muttered, though she didn't relax. She couldn't bring herself to.
"Yes. That is what I meant." It pulled its mandibles close to its face, looking oddly thoughtful, before speaking again. "I had a family once. We lived in one of many keeps on Sanghelios, just as many of you humans live in your cities on planets such as Earth. At the dawn of the Great Schism, a number of Brutes came to Sanghelios, looking to raid supplies and perhaps make a killing of our people as they saw fit." The squid-lip huffed, green eyes flashing. "My two sons were training as swordsmen, and my wife was no slouch either, and yet who were they against an entire pack of Brutes? The vile beasts murdered my family in cold blood, and laughed as they desecrated the corpses. So now you know, Spartan, that I indeed know about mourning."
That was something out of the blue. Kat frowned again, though it was less anger this time, and more confusion. "Why are you telling me this? How would you think that it could help me? You don't know the kind of grief I'm dealing with. And you couldn't understand what I have been through."
The Sangheili gave a clack of his mandibles. "Indeed. I do not and cannot understand. The fact of the matter here is, I can relate to what you are going through. Not all the pain I hold within is the pain of watching my fellow warriors die beside me in battle. As I said, my species and yours are not so different after all. It is... it is a peace offering, I suppose. I want our kinds to get along. That, and the fact that it displeases me to see warriors in pain. It is an unpleasant thing, and the warriors do not deserve such to go through so much discomfort when they dedicate their lives to fighting for what they think is right."
Kat remained silent as she analysed the situation, looking at it from different angles. His words were honest, and he was not lying to her – well, at least, it didn't look like he was. Split-lips and humans had different facial features, after all. And yet, she still got the feeling that he was not to be trusted. Maybe she was just biased; maybe she needed to learn how to be more open. Either way, this was an olive branch, and she realized that she'd better take it – before the small part of her brain telling her that this was all fake took over and she shunned the offer.
"What would you even suggest that I do? Talking to therapists... doesn't sit well with me." she admitted, finally.
"Find a warrior that can understand and relate. That is what I suggest. I would offer more but I can see that you are wary, and besides, ways of helping warriors deal with emotions is different among my people than yours. You would likely not... be interested... in such methods." the split-lip replied.
Kat paused, and then, "I suppose I should thank you, huh?"
There was a noise like laughter, and the Sangheili rose to leave. "It is customary among your kind, is it not?"
"Yeah." Kat's mouth twisted into a wry smirk. "Thanks. I guess. I'll think about what you said."
"You alright?"
She glanced up at him, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Sure. Guess I'm just thinking too much. Always been one of my biggest downfalls."
He seated himself beside her, following her gaze to where she was staring up at the stars. It was a nice night, even with the sky looking like it was on fire in the direction of New Alexandria. Warm and almost peaceful; made one forget they were even at war in the first place. "What are you thinking about, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Oh, not much, really." The Lieutenant spared him a glance, before heaving a sigh. "I just miss Jorge."
"Yeah, me too."
… … …
"Can't sleep? Me either." She turned from where she'd been staring out the window, giving him a wonky smile. The stars. She was always staring at the stars. He wondered why; no Spartan ever really liked being in space, because in space, the Covenant had the advantage. Then again, the Covenant didn't really exist anymore. There were a few factions here and there, but they were scattered, and they no longer had the advantage if a space battle occurred.
Maybe she was making use of the fact that the stars were safer than they used to be, and taking the time to actually enjoy them.
"I guess I just... I've been worrying a lot," he admitted after some silence. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the twinkling stars drift by as the frigate moved through space.
"About what?" She spared him a glance, eyebrows crinkling together with worry. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I'm here."
When would things change? When would he learn how to open up to his team? He didn't know.
"Lots of stuff. Everything and nothing at once. I don't know exactly one thing, if I'm being honest. I'm not really used to... being out of combat for so long."
This time she did smile, her eyes glowing and reflecting the starlight. "Bit jarring, isn't it?"
"Yeah, you could say that," he answered.
… … …
"Carter? What's wrong?" She sat beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Talk to me; what's going on?"
"I – I miss my family. I miss my home." He heaved a shaky breath. "I miss my brother. I'm sorry, I don't mean to – It's just that I –"
"It's okay. You can cry about your home if you want to; there's no shame in that. The amount of times I cry over Reach is... a lot, let's just say. I'm here for you. Alright?" One of her hands gently stroked the side of his head. "No shame in crying over your home. Home is home, y'know? Even if it changes. Even if it shifts. All your previous homes will still feel like home to you even if your current home is somewhere lightyears away, and even if you feel more attached to your new home than your old one."
He said nothing; just leaned into her and wept silently, for what must have been an hour. She stayed with him that whole time; quiet, comforting, solid and real and there.
… … …
"Hmmm. We don't have a mission today, do we?"
"No. Why do you ask?" He glanced across the room at her, propping himself up on an elbow.
"No real reason. Just feel lazy I guess." She shifted and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a thud. "Aw nuts."
"Would you two shut it? Some of us are trying to sleep." grumbled Emile, tossing his pillow at Artemis and hitting her in the head before turning over to face the wall.
The Lieutenant just hissed in laughter and rolled her eyes. "He's such an ass." she murmured, pulling herself into an upright position. "Hm, I think I'll keep his pillow. Least until he realizes that it's gone."
He chuckled quietly. "You're so mean."
"Yeah, I know."
… … …
"Dammit."
He hadn't wanted his night to go like this, but then, what else had been expecting? He might have been exhausted emotionally, but that didn't mean he was going to sleep like a rock. Carter knew that was impossible for a good few nights to come. If not weeks. Thom's death years ago had shaken him up enough and left it hard for him to sleep, but this was Artemis. It was different.
Heaving a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, deciding to take a walk along the halls of the Infinity's S Deck. It wouldn't clear his head much, but at least it might... well. He wasn't really sure anymore. Taking a walk along a ship's halls used to help him when he couldn't sleep, but this was different.
He rubbed the back of his neck and almost bumped into the door to his temporarily assigned quarters when it slid open. The lights were dimmed in the hallway; no wonder he couldn't see. It was the Infinity's night cycle; he guessed, and a lot of Spartans had gone to bed, thus the Smart AI Roland deciding the need to adjust lighting. As his eyes were acclimatizing to the change in brightness – his room had been wholly dark save for faint starlight – he didn't notice another figure wandering towards him.
Not until he walked right into them, winding up with his forehead now very sore. He staggered back a step, stunned and confused and now very much awake and shaken out of his thoughts. "Shit, sorry, wasn't looking where I was going."
"Nah, it's my fault; I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings. Ah – sorry Commander, didn't recognize you for a moment there." The other was definitely a Spartan – nobody else could have that kind of height and build, and nobody else really wandered S Deck. Funnily enough, it sounded like one of the S-IVs from Fireteam Etilka, though Carter couldn't place the name.
When his vision finally cleared, he frowned in confusion. For a second, he swore he was looking into a mirror – a mirror of his younger self. Same electric blue eyes, same dark, almost jet black hair – only the styling was longer, different – and same tan skin. Only thing was, this lookalike was lacking scars, and lacking the look in his eyes that showed he'd been through the kind of hell that the original Spartans had been through. ...He wasn't seeing double, was he?
"What the hell...?" he murmured in confusion, "You're not... – am I hallucinating?"
"I'm starting to wonder the same thing, 259." His lookalike frowned as well. "You look a hell of a lot like me, and you sound like someone from my home planet; like a Biko native."
Biko. That's my home planet. But – No, it can't be. Could it?
Never hurt to ask, at any rate.
"Conall?"
"Carter?!"
The bigger Spartan's throat tightened with emotion, and he did not hesitate to embrace his younger brother. "What the hell... I thought you'd died, Conall!" he breathed, closing his eyes.
"I'd learned you were alive some years ago – and by that I mean I learned you'd died on Reach when it fell back in '52." Conall exclaimed quietly. "I missed you, you stinky butt."
Carter choked out a noise that might have been laughter, or it might have been a sob – he couldn't tell which, and at this point, he didn't care. "I missed you too, you jerk."
