Chapter CVI: My Editor Will Think of a Name For This

November 15, 2543 (UNSC Calendar)/

Esztergom (Ezhtergom), Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridany System

"I never turned to drink. It seemed to turn to me."- Brendan Behan

"A beautiful day here in Esztergom, the city has woken up completely covered in white. That's right people! For those of you that haven't woken up yet, get out of bed and look out the window. Today marks the beginning of what looks to be one cold winter. Hopefully it'll be a short one, eh? Well then, coming up is the newest hit by-"

I turned off the radio before I got a pop music overdose.

My rental Hog was outfitted with actually collapsible doors and roof in case it rained, a real life saver in a situation like this. Snow was flurrying all around, and although it wasn't as bad as it had been during the night, it was still a bitch to drive in. The heated windshield melted the snowflakes almost immediately and the wipers wiped them off, but you probably know what it's like driving while it's raining.

The copious amounts of snow had kept any vehicles other than public transports and some brave workers off the road. That meant that my massive all terrain vehicle could go as fast as possible and swerve as much as possible without those pesky highway patrols stopping me twice in a twenty minute trip.

"You have a call," a pleasant robotic voice informed me. The Hog came outfitted with all the comforts of the civilian life with the advantages of a military vehicle.

"Who is it?" I asked the robotic female voice.

Of course I had chosen the female option.

"The number is marked as private. If you intend to know the callers identity you can call any one of the-"

"Just put it through."

The speakers beeped once.

"Hello?"

"Frank Castillo?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Lamberti."

"Hey, Arcangelo, how you doin'?"

"Pretty well, it's just…"

"Spit it out," I said impatiently.

"The squad is wondering where you are, they're a little worried."

I stared flatly at the console in the dashboard, as if expecting that the sheer will in my look would get through.

"Yeah…" Lamberti went on.

"You're all big boys, and we're on leave. I'm pretty damn sure you don't need me for that. Lemme rephrase that. I'm pretty fucking sure that you don't need me for that."

"Nice. The swearing was a nice touch," Schitzo said. "It definitely makes you look more like that stereotype image of sergeants."

Fuck off.

"Say something Sarge?"

"No," I dismissed him quickly. I thought that I had stopped thinking out loud.

"Is there someone in the car? I call at a bad time?"

"No and no," I insisted. It was the truth.

"Ok…" he said, obviously not completely believing me. "Well, the team just wanted to know where you were."

"You lose a bet with Cam?" I queried.

"What? No."

"So you are worried."

"No!"

"Then why the fuck are you calling me so early!"

He sighed audibly. "The team wanted to go out drinking, catch up with Sergeant Pavel, you know."

This time I sighed. "Frankly I'd love to, but I'm not in a position to."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not in New Alexandria currently."

"Well? Where are you?"

"Esztergom."

"Eszter- What the hell Sarge?"

"You're hardly in a position to question me;" I said sternly.

"Right, sorry, but I mean, why would you leave the nightclub capital of this world?"

I'm twenty-eight, I'm too old for that thing.

"You're not," Schitzo interceded. "Besides, you might've been born twenty eight years ago, but all that cryo and slipspace probably puts you at around… what? Twenty four?"

Appealing to my ego? Nice. Couldn't have done it better myself.

"I aim to please."

"I left because I damn well pleased to," I informed him. "Besides, Pavel has a house here now, nice little place."

"Huh? Really?"

"Yup."

"Any reason why?"

I shrugged needlessly. "You'd have to ask him."

"Fine. Hey-"

He stopped abruptly and the line was quiet for a couple of seconds.

"Lamberti? You still there?"

"-ll him."

"Tell me what?"

"Well, we wanted to know if you'd mind us coming over?"

"What? We're on leave, I'm not your father, hell, you're older than me! You can do what you damn well please with your own time."

"So that's a yes?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I don't plan on leaving any time soon."

"Great, than-"

I hung up before he could finish his sentence. He was getting rather annoying the longer the call lasted.

Shit, my own squad asking for clearance on doing something was unusual enough in the battlefield, but here on Reach? I mean, that's just weird.

I slowed down the Hog as I closed in on my destination.

"Thank you for choosing McDonalds, may I take your order?"

I smiled to myself. "Of course." If I was in any luck the person handing out my burgers to me would be that pretty girl. But then again, for some reason I'm usually in luck with this kind of thing. Not that I'm complaining really. "A double Quarter Pounder, a large coke, large fries, and a two regular cheeseburgers. No pickles or onions."

"So, the usual?"

I chuckled. "You still haven't told me your name, you know?"

"It's on my nametag," the intercom replied teasingly.

"Which is conspicuously missing."

"My my, have you been staring at my chest?"

I would've blushed, but I didn't do that anymore.

"Would you blame me if I had been?"

"I would if you hadn't."

"No modesty? I can live with that."

She giggled a little bit. "Please move up to receive your order."

I feathered the pedal lightly and the huge vehicle lurched forward while its engine made loud noises. I had to be very careful not to scrape the Hog's sides with the walls on either side of the drive-thru. Normally I wouldn't have minded scratching the monster, primarily because it wasn't mine, but last time the insurance had racked up a healthy amount that my beloved UNSC had been unwilling to compensate in my stead. Believe it or not, a Helljumper doesn't exactly make six figures.

The pressure tube next to my window appeared not to move. I waited for half a minute before the little window opened. It showed the pretty McDonalds girl wearing a red and yellow scarf.

"Sorry," she apologized with a smile, "our delivery system isn't working right now, food has to be delivered by hand."

I smiled back at her. "Very old-fashioned."

"Well, this establishment in particular prides itself in having all of the classical McDonalds features, including the taste."

"You sound like a commercial I heard," I joked. Her words came right out of a commercial that promoted this retro McDonalds in particular.

"I wonder why," she went on. "Anyways, that'll be eleven credits."

"Damn, I thought I was getting a discount."

"I don't know you nearly well enough for that."

"Oh well, a man can only hope," I said as I shrugged theatrically.

"Here you go," she told me cheerfully as she leaned out of the small window that was usually used to deal with payment problems. "Have a nice… breakfast."

I shrugged as I took the burgers, fries, and soda from her hands. I know, bizarre way of doing the drive-thru thing. "It fills me up. So, you still haven't given me your name."

She smiled and started closing the little window to protect herself from the cold. "I don't know anything about you yet." With that, she was gone.

Oh well, maybe next time.

I pedaled my Warthog, sorry, Hog as I placed my still-warm breakfast on the passenger's seat. It took all of three minutes to drive myself back to the hotel and a minute more to walk back to my room.

I cursed when I realized my one-night stand was still there. I was slightly pissed at myself at not having done everything perfectly, but she had forgiven me when I explained it had been over six months since I had put my wee-wee in a hoo-ha. I fully expected her to be gone by the time I returned.

"You didn't bring me anything?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as she put her shirt on.

"I thought you'd be gone by now," I admitted rather shamelessly.

She shrugged and shook her hair a little. "Rather ungentlemanly."

"You want a cheeseburger?" I offered.

"Not hungry."

I looked at her while she put on her shoes and helped her with her coat before opening the door for her. "Well, thanks, I guess?"

She smiled. "You too."

"I guess I'll see you." I was going to say her name, but the hesitation after saying goodbye was enough to give the statement an awkward look. Any idiot would've caught onto my screwup.

"Don't worry," she told me. "I don't remember your name either. Better that way."

"Oh. Ok, bye then."

"Bye."

I closed the door and blinked twice.

"My kind of woman," Schitzo noted. "Good-looking, nice, funny, and more importantly, enjoys sex just because."

I was inclined to agree with him.

When I opened the McDonalds bag I realized that my breakfast was already getting cold. It had literally been fifteen minutes since I got it. I opened the Quarter Pounder and took a large bite before sipping on the soda. The screen in my hotel room was an old one, but it had tons of channels. Eventually I settled for watching some sitcom while I ate my breakfast.

I looked at my phone in during a commercial break, seeing that it was devoid of any messages, calls, or news. The lack of attention I was receiving quickly resulted in the phone being tossed away and my datapad being used for family-unfriendly purposes.

This is going to be a looong day…

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I had almost overdosed on sleeping pills and spent most of the day in my bed. I groaned in annoyance at the headache that started raging inside my head as soon as I opened my eyes. The first thing I did was order the television to shut itself down. The second thing I did was groan some more and rub my temples.

My phone rang loudly again.

"Answer," I called out. "Pick up, whatever."

"Hello?"

"Who's this?"

"Frank, it's Grass."

"Hey Cam," I greeted. "You guys made it here already?"

"Yeah, we just arrived."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, can you recommend a nice place?"

I sighed. "Christ Cam, I mean, you can't look up the yellow pages?"

"There are no yellow pages," she replied.

"It's an expression," I explained unnecessarily. I sighed once again, giving up. "There's a nice little place known as The Grenadier, look it up."

"Ok, will you join us later?"

I glanced at the room's clock. "Maybe, be sure to drop my name and look military."

"Uhh, ok?"

I hung up and put my phone on silent mode.

I sank back to my bead, my eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and tried falling asleep again. Unfortunately my body decided that it had enough rest and wouldn't let up. I could hear everything, the sound of a bed banging against a wall a couple of rooms over and the ecstatic screams that went with it, faked by the exaggerated sound of it. I could hear the occasional vehicle flying by the street and the sound of military jets in the distance. One might sometimes think that a hotel this far off from the city center would be quieter, but the entire Viery Territory was loud by nature.

I wonder how many people firing at the same time it would take to blow up a starship… Probably a couple million. Using explosive ammunition too, I mean, you can't expect an SRS to punch through a few meters of Titanium-A armor. Huh, maybe you could use a combination of both.

Well, eventually that particular train of thought developed into another one, and another one, then another one. Somehow I ended up wondering what Marina would look like if she had Stef's tattoos. The mental image was not entirely unpleasant once I decided on a final product.

What?

Finally I decided that it would probably be a good idea to actually do something before I ended up offing myself due to a boredom overdose. After quickly brainstorming I ended up with only one viable option: go to The Grenadier and try and have some fun. Perhaps I'd even meet a military broad on leave that was just looking for some casual sex. I mean, a single person serving in the military gets little action as it is, something that I had just recently become painfully aware of.

Once I got enough willpower to get up from the bed I changed to my only other pair of jeans and put on a long-sleeved shirt (black of course) before grabbing my recently-acquired coat. After zipping it up I grabbed my pistol and shoved it in a small holster in the back of my belt. I put on my boots and strapped my knife into the right one as well.

Hey, you never know what might happen.

As soon as I left the hotel I noticed that most of the snow had been plowed away by trucks or something else. There was a bunch of other cars present on the roads this time, but none of them were willing to risk not letting me pass. I did sport one big-ass jeep with wheels as tall as your average ten year-old. Pavel told me that he could meet up with me in the bar and I started breathing a little bit easier. Sometimes being with my team outside of combat situations or deployment was weird.

By this time the bar was getting crowded.

At least it was a military crowd that would know better than to get uppity with a Helljumper. Or perhaps they would think it would be a good idea to get uppity with one because they were in the military. And inebriated.

"Captain!" I greeted the owner and bartender of The Grenadier.

"Castillo, a couple of friends of yours came by, they're sitting back there."

I nodded and sat on one of the last remaining booths in the bar. "Give me something heavy," I asked him.

"What?"

"I… I'm not in the mood for soberness."

He nodded, apparently understanding. "Here, this is Martian Malt. Pretty strong, tasty. And expensive."

He added that last particular bit of information after I had downed the shot that he served me. I glared at Captain and shook my head.

"Put it on my tab."

"Will you ever pay that tab?"

"I'm kind of hoping that this place gets destroyed in an invasion first."

He shook his head and chuckled. "With the ODPs being built and deployed, I hardly think that's a possibility."

"A man can dream."

I walked through the bar, making my way in between bulky marines and their dates. I noticed that while male soldiers brought civilian girls here with them, barely any female marines brought their men in here. I didn't blame them, few guys would willingly date a woman that could kick their asses in seven different ways before they could so much as fart. Being in a bar filled with testosterone and other men which could kill them equally as fast also did not help. No doubt it was pretty intimidating and emasculating to go out with that kind of woman. Unless you had one big pair of balls and one hell of a bluff.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Huh?" I asked, looking up at the person that bumped into me. "Oh, Driscoll, wasn't it?"

He immediately took two steps to the back and clenched his fists lightly. He looked like he was about to say something before a large man slammed his hand on his shoulder.

"Relax Driscoll, this is Frank Castillo, Klaus' buddy."

He looked at me and then back to his friend. "And you neglected to mention that to me because?"

"Shaw and me were hoping to see you get your ass kicked again."

"Huh." Then Driscoll did something completely unexpected. He offered me his hand.

Not being one to refuse an opportunity for friendship, I immediately shook it. He had a strong, firm grip, telling of a life served in the military. The spiker scar on his face was also a pretty good indicator, but I had an awful feeling that several civilians had similar scars.

"I guess maybe we should've been a little bit nicer," he dismissed with a shrug. "Or maybe ask you what your name was."

I chuckled. "Maybe you should have."

"And perhaps you might accept a rematch."

I smiled at him. "I would just love to." I put as much evilness into my tone as I could, smiling a macabre smile and doing my best to look like a psychotic killer. Obviously, the act worked, because Driscoll looked worried for a brief second before I broke into a grin, at which point he laughed and patted my shoulder.

"I'll take your word for it, but let's use helmets just in case."

"Of course." I nodded.

I moved towards the direction Captain had pointed me after that encounter and finally spotted my squad. They had moved two tables together and were sitting, their chairs pushed back and their backs slouched. I could see a few empty mugs and beer bottles on the table already. If the uproarious laughter was any kind of indicator they were already half-drunk.

"Oi, Sarge!"

Yup, definitely drunk.

I stopped a passing waitress before I sat down. I eyed her body appreciably, she was wearing a uniform that consisted of short military-looking shorts, black boots, and a tight tank-top. Captain certainly knew how to run a military bar. "Excuse me, could you get me… say, two of your strongest beers as well as two shots of… what would you recommend?"

"You want to catch up with your friends, Sergeant? Staff?"

"Gunnery," I explained. "And yes, perhaps even overtake them."

She smiled prettily, further reminding me of my lack of a significant other. "I've got just the thing."

I thanked her before grabbing an empty chair and dragging it towards my table. "Hey," I greeted my drunken squad. "Any trouble?"

"Nah," Agnarsson said merrily, "they looked at us and let us right in, no problemo."

"Yeah, yeah," Lamberti agreed. "No problemo."

The two of them looked at each other and giggled like prepubescent girls at the incredibly funny joke that they had just shared. Konstantinov and Snark looked unimpressed while Camilla outright scowled at their drunken antics. I was inclined to agree with Cam's take on this one.

I reached for her beer and took a healthy swig.

"No worries, I don't mind," she said sarcastically.

"I knew you wouldn't," I agreed. "That's why I did."

She sighed. "Whatever."

Lamberti, drunk as he was, decided to start fucking with her. "Gee Grass, if anyone else had done that you would've squeezed the life out of them by their balls."

"I do believe that's physically impossible," Naveen muttered. "But please, do go on."

"Thank you, I believe I will. As I was saying, perhaps you enjoy sharing a bottle with Sarge?" His slurred and half-drunken speech turned that two sentences into a one minute ordeal where he stumbled over his words and repeated himself several times.

To her credit, Camilla managed to maintain an excellent poker face.

Me, being one to defend distressed damsels and to always take advantage of an opportunity where I could be an asshole, decided to jump in on Cam's defense. "Well Lamberti, perhaps you're a little bit jealous that you didn't get to share a bottle with her."

He blushed. I was stunned by that and decided to leave it at that, but I had no doubt that neither Cam nor the rest of the squad would let him forget about that. I didn't blame him if he had… unprofessional thoughts regarding his only female squad mate, I mean, you just had to look at Cam to be completely infatuated with her physique. Yes, even if you're a woman. The problem here was that Aracangelo disliked her. Sure, they were friends and would die for one another, but they also disliked each other.

You feel me?

No? Doesn't matter, you're probably a worthless piece of trash anyways.

I started taking off my new (badass) coat and put it over my chair before sliding up my sleeves. The waitress brought me two bottles of beer and two small glasses filled with a transparent liquid. I eyed the two shots carefully before downing one. The rest of the liquor I packed near my position so that nobody would think about taking a swig from any of my bottles.

"So," Konstantinov started. "Is Pavel going to join us?"

"He said he'd be here," I replied. The drink was already beginning to reach my brain.

Whoa that shit's strong.

"Don't know what time, though," I added.

"What's that on your hand?" Camilla asked with a raised eyebrow. I think that I've mentioned several times just how goddamned attractive she looked when she did that. Haven't I? Well, in case I haven't I'll say it yet one more time.

She looked fucking hot.

"What on my hand?" I asked, eyeing both my appendages and trying to spot whatever was wrong with either of them.

Snark sighed in annoyance. "She means the tattoo Sarge."

I glanced down at the crow on my forearm. My vision was already getting slightly blurry with whatever I had just downed. The black tattoo seemed to be waving. I felt like I had just taken a bunch of illegal stimulants. I hadn't gotten close to those things after a particularly bad trip back on Jericho VII.

"Oh, this? It's a crow. I got it after-"

"-Scarecrow," Neveen finished.

"Exactly."

And suddenly the mood at the table became a whole lot somber.

"Well, well, well! If this isn't Reaper!"

The entire table turned around to face Pavel. Everyone wanted to change topics and they were all actually happy to see my, their, friend back on his feet. Pavel walked towards us with his arms open and a big smile on his face. He shook hands with everyone and got a couple of pats on the back. Camilla even kissed him on the cheek. Past Pavel would've looked at me smugly after that, but Present Pavel was not only in a committed relationship, but he was going to be a father soon as well.

I couldn't get over the fact that his daughter would be called Lavanya.

"So," Pavel said, sitting down in another dragged over chair. "Looks like you started early."

"No way!" Lamberti exclaimed. "We're waiting for you."

"Completely sober too!" Rob joined in.

Then they both looked at each other and giggled like prepubescent girls. Again.

"Of course," he smiled back at them. Pavel turned around and gestured for the waitress that I had talked to, to come take his order. "Hey Lys," he greeted her. "Can I have the usual?"

"Of course Pavel," she smiled at him.

"Lys," I called to her. "What the hell did you give me?"

My head wasn't spinning, it was shaking. The fact that I wasn't moving was pretty bad news.

Pavel glanced at the spare glass on the table and took a small sip from it after picking it up. "You're better off not knowing. And Lys, don't every serve him two of these again."

"I thought it might be funny," she offered with a smile.

"That's because you haven't seen Frank when he gets drunk."

"Oh, so this is Frank."

I decided to join. "Pavel, it frightens me that you've told absolutely everyone about me."

The waitress-that-happened-to-be-named-Lys looked at me and eyeballed me carefully. "You look a lot less impressive in person," she bluntly noted. "But then again, I don't believe I'm in any position to judge." She turned around and left, a slight swagger rocking her hips.

Are all people so direct in here?

"Hey! How come you didn't tell the pretty lady about me?" Rob complained loudly.

"Same here!" Lamberti joined, slapping his fist on the table and succeeding in knocking down his own drink.

"Relax," Pavel told him. Then he turned around and leaned close to me. "Think it's a good idea I tell them later?"

"Yeah, probably."

The floor was bobbing sideways.

"Relax Frank," Pavel told me after noting my discomfort. "Nothing you can't handle, right?"

Wrong.

"The fuck?"

"You finally came around, huh?"

"What the fuck?"

"Yes, you said that already."

I felt like I had just had the shit beaten out of me. My eyelids automatically closed again as soon as I tried opening them just a little. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried again. The edge of my vision was blurry and undefined, but with every millimeter that my eyes opened I could see more clearly. After half a minute my eyes were half opened and I was staring at a boring ceiling painted in dull military green.

"Where am I?"

"The Grenadier."

"Who are you?"

"Wow, not even bothering to turn around. Really?"

"Please don't shout."

"I'm no- fine. Sorry," she apologized. "I'm Lys."

"Who?"

"The waitress."

"Right. Why are you here?"

"Bar closed about an hour ago, you were passed out and Captain ordered me to stay behind to watch over you until you woke up."

What the fuck did you give me?" I demanded, slowly standing up. "Seriously."

"Something illegal," she admitted with a shrug, "but I didn't intend for you to drink four more."

"Jeez."

I immediately felt dizzy and something started lurching in my stomach. I put a hand to a chair to stay standing and then used my other hand to cover my mouth. The entire floor seemed to spin around me before I felt it coming.

"There's a bucket over there," Lys said disinterestedly.

I turned towards the direction where she was pointing and felt the contents of my stomach rising up through my esophagus. The acid burned my throat as it climbed up and then I threw up in the bucket. I groaned and tried catching my breath as soon as I finished throwing up for the first time. I was about to say something along the lines of 'fuck' when I felt round two coming.

Bits of vomit splashed back on my face as I threw up for the second time. The vomit itself was mostly liquid, a few chunks of half-digested food thrown in there for good measure. I sighed and spat twice, trying to get the bile out of my mouth. Before I could reach up and wipe my chin I felt my stomach twisting and lurching for the third time. This time it was just a little splash of alcohol hitting the vomit-filled bucket. I looked at my stomach's contents and spat several times at it.

"Here," Lys offered, handing me a couple of napkins.

I used them to wipe my mouth and chin, packing them into a ball as soon as I was finished and then tossing them in the bucket, adding them to the mix.

I leaned my head on a chair. "You should've warned me."

"You did ask me for the strongest thing we had."

"You should've warned me," I repeated.

She sighed. "You're probably right. In any case, I could've been sleeping right about now."

I just groaned as my head throbbed.

"I'll get you something for that headache. Wait here."

"I can't even stand up," I yelled as she left. "Where would I go."

Lys ignored me and brought me back a glass (plastic) filled with water. She then dumped some sort of tablet into it and waited for it to dissolve before handing me the red cup. I grabbed it weakly and placed it on the ground next to me. I used all the strength I possessed to turn around and sit down on the floor before I grabbed the drink and downed half the cup in two big gulps.

"It should help. Captain told me to give you this too."

I glanced at the candy bar that she was offering me. It had the look and consistency of hardened shit, the taste was the same as the look too. I was all too familiar with the energy bars the UNSC issued to us lowly grunts. I took a healthy munch of the thing, gagging at the consistency more than the taste before downing the rest of the red cup.

The headache was slowly receding and I could feel the rapid effects of the combat bar. My head was clearer and I no longer felt like every limb of mine was coated with a healthy dose of lead.

"You'd think we'd have a good cure for a hangover by now," I joked weakly.

"Hey, back in the day they just had to wear it out, sometimes hangovers lasted for days."

"Urban myth," I dismissed her. "Did I do anything stupid?"

"No, well yes, the five shots you took."

"You said those were illegal?"

"Yup."

"I could sue you for drugging me, you know that?"

"Yes, Captain and Pavel were very clear on that matter. I was almost fired because of you."

Because of me. Fuck you.

"Fuck you!" she snapped back, indignant.

And my brain-mouth filter had just hit its expiration date.

Despite my rather rude comment, I was not one to back down on an argument. "You could've killed me. You still might!"

"Oh please, the meds would've pumped your stomach on the spot and you would've been ready for another night of getting wasted."

"Courtesy of yourself as well?" I taunted.

She tried saying something before making that weird noise of frustration that girls sometimes make when they are…ahem…frustrated. Yeah.

"What time is it?" I asked her after a while.

"What do you care."

"Well, if I didn't care I wouldn't have asked you."

She just looked away.

"Phone, what time is it?"

"Local time is twenty-six, fifty-nine."

"Call me a cab will ya?"

"Understood."

"MacPhone?" Lys asked.

I scoffed theatrically and glanced away, feigning offence and annoyance.

"See, that got a smile out of you," I told her.

"It did not," she said truthfully.

"Ahh, but now you're smiling."

She was. "Pavel always said you had your way with gi- words."

I shrugged, standing up once more and confirming that I could walk in a relatively straight line. My head wasn't hurting anymore, but I still felt a little queasy and a little bit hung over. "I'm surprised that Pavel told so much about me."

"Well, you were his only squad mate for about…what?"

"Seven years," I informed her. "Seven long years."

"He talked about the new squad as well, even though he barely knew them."

I looked at her. "Really? What did he say?"

"Not a lot," Lys admitted. "One incredibly talented sharpshooter, a pyromaniac who is also a reformed criminal, a friendly big guy, one certain rocket launcher prodigy with a penchant for shout outs to twenty-first century culture, another incredibly talented soldier that never talks about his past, and the only female squad member. He very often emphasized her looks." She added, "Oh, her I saw."

"Not many people miss her."

"You've got something with her?"

"No," I dismissed almost immediately. "She's pretty and all, but she's still in my squad and is my subordinate."

"Huh, superior rank didn't stop you when you were going out with… whatserface?"

"Ok, stop right there. Pavel might've told you a bunch of things, but my personal life is none of your business."

"Fair enough," she admitted.

"Why you poking?" I counter-attacked. "I mean, you barely know me and you seem awfully interested in my relationships." The implication was very clear.

"Don't get excited," she warned me. "You're an interesting character, I just want to get to know you a little bit better."

"I hardly think that could happen, I'll be deployed to some distant world pretty soon."

She was about to reply when one door burst open. "Hey Lys, what- Oh, I see you finally woke up."

I looked over my shoulder and spotted Murphy. "Hey," I greeted him weakly.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I would've sworn that you'd be down for at least another couple of hours."

I shrugged. The repetitive act was starting to strain my shoulders. "I guess I'm good at processing alcohol, and throwing up. Where's your bathroom?"

He chuckled before pointing to a corner. I quickly made my way there and relieved myself in the squeaky-clean urinals. The sensations that tingled through my body were pleasant, they were similar to finally being able to lie down and rest after a long day of work, but you know, better.

"So Frank," Murphy said as soon as I returned. "You feeling better?"

I nodded several times. "I haven't heard anything about you other than you're in the military Murphy," I pointed out.

"And I know a lot of shit about you," he smiled at me. "Fair enough. Shoot."

"You're retired, I take it."

"Only temporarily," he informed me with a crooked grin. "But yes, right now I am."

"Unit?"

"Fourth Battalion, Twelfth Marines."

I nodded, the 12th was garrisoned here in Viery, but its headquarters were in New Alexandria. The city was home to the ONI offices as well as several very important UNSC buildings, it could be said that despite Esztergom and Manassas being bigger cities, New Alexandria was the hub of the military in Viery.

"How long did you serve?" I asked him.

"Half a dozen tours, most of them against those goddamned Innies, but I faced the Covenant a few times."

"You retire because of a wound?"

"Nah, I was just tired, besides, most of my family and friends live here. I missed them."

"And yet you still spend your time hanging out with old unit members in a military bar."

"I became used to that kind of life," he admitted regretfully, "and now I can't seem to get used to civilian life. To dull."

"Hang in there," I said reassuringly. "I hear it's tough to get used to the lack of explosions and plasma fire."

This time it was his turn to chuckle. "Maybe I just need a couple of extra years, eh?"

I shrugged. "This is the only life I know."

"Yeah, Pavel did mention you being raised on a military base."

"Anything else he didn't mention about me? The size of my package, maybe? Oh, I know, who I went to prom with."

Murphy shrugged and smiled at me.

"I think he mentioned that you skipped your prom," Lys said from behind. The bucket that I had thrown up into was in one of her hands, clean and vomit-free. "But I'm not sure," she added a second later.

"My school didn't even have prom," I sighed. "I was making a rhetorical statement."

"Your cab has arrived," my phone informed me.

"And with that, gentleman and lady, I leave." I did a small bow at them, only realizing my mistake when the building started shaking in several different directions once again. I took a moment to steady myself before making my way towards the door, grabbing my coat on the way. "See you around."

"You too," Murphy said.

"Bye," Lys waved.

The cold wind hit my face the moment I opened the door, further sobering me up but actually managing to make me feel even weaker. I patted myself to make sure that both my pistol and my knife were still in their intended hiding places before climbing into the boxy vehicle.

"Please tell me your destination," the robotic voice of the cab's console asked. The vehicle was connected to the city's AI, it would drive itself to my hotel as quickly as regulations allowed for it to, taking the shortest possible route. "Gunnery Sergeant Castillo," it added after its sensors recognized either my ID card or the neural implant in the back of my head.

"Hotel California," I said, trying to doze off.

"Would you like me to play some music?"

I didn't understand the question, so I simply repeated my destination as the yellow metal box started moving. To my surprise a guitar riff started playing on the speakers. Out of curiosity, I left the song to play. It was similar to softer Flip music, but not particularly my style. The lyrics, however, were awfully dark. I didn't need to be a poet to interpret the meaning of them. They were rather direct as to what they were referencing.

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim.

You don't really have to be a genius to figure out that the singer was dead or dying, making his way to the shimmering light, most commonly known as the light at the end of the tunnel or heaven. Don't ask me what colitas are and don't tell me either, that could ruin my entire interpretation of the verses.

I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway;

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself,

'this could be heaven or this could be hell'

So, this 'she' is an angel and the doorway is probably a gateway to heaven. The only problem I found with the previous five lines was the last one. Heaven or hell meant that the person had lived a pretty morally ambiguous life.

Suddenly, I felt very depressed and sad. The song seemed to hit just the place necessary for me. You'd think a song was just a song, but this one in particular got me thinking of my life as I listened to it. Life was a fickle thing, George's death had proven that. As the song went on and on it became painfully obvious that the protagonist wasn't in heaven. More likely purgatory or hell. The last line definitely nailed it for me though.

"Cab, who wrote this?"

"A band called The Eagles," the robotic voice replied dully.

"When?"

"The single was released over half a millennium ago, in the year 1977."

Wow, five hundred and something years of being written and the song still managed to make me feel like jumping off a building. I don't know who those The Eagles guys were, but they should've jumped off of a building themselves before writing that hedonistic and depressing song.

Well, the song being five hundred years old probably meant that I had misinterpreted it. The words probably had a different meaning back then than they had nowadays. For some reason that didn't make me feel better at all.

"We have arrived."

"Thanks cab, charge the ride on my UNSC account."

"It was a pleasure driving you."

"Yeah, yeah."

I walked inside the hotel and walked straight to the receptionist. "Any reason in particular why this hotel is called like this?"

The receptionist seemed surprised by my question, but he immediately got his bearings and replied. "Yes, the founder named it after some very old song. We were never sure exactly why, but it was supposed to be some kind of joke."

Hell of a joke…

"Thanks," I told him.

And with that in mind, I headed to my room to try to wean off a hangover and nurse an emerging depression.

Thanks to Sniper Fodder for proof-reading this chapter.

Ok, so before I go into my usual comments relating my hardships when writing this or how I suddenly got a Eureka Moment and decided to give you guys one hell of a story I'll have to keep a promise. I pointed out that there were several references in this chapter, and one of you found most of them. An anonymous poster (who asked me to refer to him as that one asshole) mentioned them in the review section.

I'm never going to hear the end of this...

Number one: skull with raven, correct. *clap*

Number two: no Halo Wars reference, correct. *clap*

Number three: Captain Montgomery, wrong. *no clap* I was actually talking about Captain Roy Montgomery from Castle, his actor also had an episode in Person of Interest where he played a retired soldier that opens a military bar in New York.

Number four: chapter title, correct. *clap*

Well, since he figured out most of them and was smart enough to notice that a large section of the chapter is inspired by the live action commercial for Halo 3: ODST (which is coincidentally named "The Life", go figure) I think he was pretty good and thorough. I will, in that one asshole's words, learn some imagination to try and make this story better.

Well, not that I dedicated a sizable portion of this post-chapter thingy I think that it's about time I stopped wasting your time. As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I am glad that so many of you could see the button and took the time to click on it. :)

Which reminds me... 200+ reviews! fuck yeah! Thanks guys!

Stay Strong

-casquis

PS: I know Hotel California has nothing to do with Frank's interpretation of it.