Author's Note: Yeah, I know UNSC ships aren't nearly as fast as I'm making them out to be. But for the sake of the story, I'm going to ignore that fact and move things along. Hope you like it and, as always, please R&R.

Chapter Twelve: More Mess Hall Therapy

The trip to Sigma Octanus IV took six days. In that time, the troops were allowed a rest period of forty-eight hours; after that, it was back to training and PT. At least we got real food, beds, and showers, all items of luxury for us ground troops.

I started sleeping and eating sometime after training began; I found that I needed to put fuel in my body in order to function at my level of fitness. I still remembered the gory details of that morning at the OP vividly, but I found that I was no longer losing myself in the memories. I even managed to sleep most shifts without nightmares.

But the death of Beesner was still fresh and raw, and it would take time to fully heal from the psychological and emotional trauma.

I needed Willis.

The prospect of seeing my husband anytime soon was slim to none; the average time apart for military couples nowadays was two and a half to three years. It had only been a little over half a year for Willis and I, so there was a long way to go.

I missed him so much it was hard to bear sometimes…especially now.

Presently, I was pulling my socks on while sitting on my bunk; officers were two per room, and my roommate was currently rotated on duty. Her shift had almost come to an end and I was to relieve her in fifteen minutes. I yawned and stretched, wishing I could have had more sleep but glad I'd at least been able to take a shower.

There was a knock on the door.

Figuring it might be my roommate coming back early, I said, "Come in!"

The door opened but no one entered. Instead, the figure remained in the doorway, casting a shadow from the light in the hall.

"What do you want?" I inquired, pulling roughly on my other sock.

"I'm sorry for what I did, Lieutenant. I was way out of line, and it wasn't my place to tell you what to do."

I snorted. "You think?"

"Yes, ma'am. I screwed up."

"Have you noticed how many times you've had to apologize to me the past couple weeks, Petty Officer?" I started putting on my light duty combat boots.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And I'm choosing to ignore the fact that you tried hitting on me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I laced up my boots and stood, facing him for the first time.

"Then you're either really stupid or really brave to come here." I could tell he was trying hard to keep his expression neutral, but he was failing. He looked rather dejected.

Doc Reynolds eased himself out of the doorway and back into the hall a bit. "I, uh, I'm sorry for bothering you, Lieutenant." He turned and started walking away.

Christ, I thought, mentally shaking my head as I grabbed my silenced pistol and belt.

"Doc?"

He'd already made it to the end of the corridor, but somehow he heard and turned around.

I jogged up to him, still trying to put my belt on with one hand and holding my pistol in the other.

"What? You gonna kill me?" Reynolds asked. He pretended he was being serious, but his grin gave him away. "Kidding, El-Tee."

I gave him a small shove. "You're an idiot, you know that?" I finally managed to holster my pistol, and I looked at my watch. "I've got ten minutes until I go back on duty. Are you off or just begging to be placed in a brig?"

"Definitely the former. I thought you were already putting me up for court-martial?"

I stopped walking and faced him, dead serious. "Don't push me, Doc. I'll do it in a heartbeat if you make me." I sighed and continued walking. "But, after much reflection, I think you were right. If you hadn't stopped me, I'd just be another bagged and tagged body right now. So thanks."

"That's what the medic's for, Lieutenant. Saving his troops---and that includes his headstrong yet talented lieutenant."

I gave Reynolds an amused look. "You know compliments aren't going to make the ring go away, right?"

The medic looked embarrassed. "That…um…I wasn't trying---" Reynolds ran a hand across his cropped black hair.

"Let's go to the mess. I need some chow before training starts."

"Ok."

We walked into the mess hall and I stopped in front of the nearest food dispenser. Shipboard time said it was morning, so the selections were all breakfast items. I figured you couldn't go wrong with scrambled eggs and sausage; I pressed the button and a hot, steamy plate emerged from the machine.

I went to the drink dispenser and got a cup of strong coffee as the medic made his food selection. We sat at a rather vacant table; the situation was much like the one I'd been in the first day with Lieutenant Graham. Finally, I had a relatively private spot to talk to Petty Officer Reynolds.

"I've been thinking a lot about the kid lately," I confessed after downing a forkful of eggs.

"Hard to forget something like that," Reynolds commented, biting into his breakfast burrito.

"It's just…I had my hands clamping down on his leg. You showed up on-scene fast. It seems like we did everything right but he's…he's still dead."

"Why are you so stuck on him?" the medic asked.

I thought about the question as I eyed my food without eating. I had suddenly lost my appetite. "I don't know. I always think about the Marines I've lost under my command, or awful events I've witnessed. This…combines both. It's hard to get the image and feeling of someone's blood splattering all over you out of your head."

"I know how you feel. I have that happen with nearly all my patients."

I immediately felt dumb. "Sorry, I forgot about that. We both see scary stuff a lot, but you've got to actually figure out how to fix it more often than I do. Beesner was a rare case."

"It's ok."

I pushed my rather untouched breakfast into the trash and drank my coffee. I was debating whether or not to tell the petty officer that, beyond the usual reasons, I kept thinking about Beesner because of Gabriel. What if that had been my own son? Granted, Beesner's mother had been killed before he was, but I just couldn't get the look of panic, shock, and fear on that young face out of my memories.

Explaining all this to the petty officer, however, meant telling him about Gabe, and I wasn't sure I was comfortable giving the medic such personal details. He was my friend but I also knew he wanted more; the medic was attractive, but my own interest did not go beyond a platonic relationship. I just wanted Willis back.

I sighed. Everything was always so damn complicated.

"Graham gave me a talk about it," I said, focusing on a different aspect of the topic.

Petty Officer Reynolds laughed. "That woman's definitely got some interesting insights. I mean, she's right about a lot of stuff, and she's got more experience than both of us combined, but…" The medic shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just not the 'roll over and play dead' kind of guy."

I smiled. "Exactly what I was thinking."

"Yeah. But you gotta think of everything she's been through, too. Family wiped out in one battle? That's fucking rough, if you ask me."

I finished my coffee and glanced at the now-empty cup. "There's a lot of that going around."

Doc Reynolds cocked an eyebrow at me. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"The kid," I whispered.

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Poor little bastard." Reynolds finished eating and threw his plate in the trash, along with his cup of coffee. He'd been sitting across from me, but now he came up behind me and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, El-Tee. Shit happens. You'll be all right."

I stood to face him, and he smiled at me. "I saw you out there, Lieutenant. You're a good leader and a good Marine. Don't doubt yourself, 'cause even the best lose some."

"Thanks, Reynolds. I appreciate that."

And with that, our conversation concluded. My ten minutes were up and it was back to duty.