Chapter CXLIII: Semblance of a Regular Life

November 30, 2545 (UNSC Calendar)/two months later

UNSC Armed Forces Cemetery, New Alexandria, Viery Territory, Reach

"Well, of course it couldn't last more than a day."- Gunnery Sergeant Francisco Castillo

Every single soldier, sailor, and marine is entitled to a coffin and a lot in the Armed Forces Cemetery.

Provided they were dead of course.

Sometimes I wondered if half the coffins in this graveyard had bodies in them.

"Chamber round!" Lieutenant Hayes ordered.

The sound of seven M392 Designated Marksman Rifles cocking was shockingly loud. Not one of the attendees failed to flinch. Even I, used to the sound of gunfire and explosions was shaken to my core.

"Firing position!"

The seven Helljumpers spread their legs at shoulder width and held their rifle ready.

"Aim!"

The seven Helljumpers raised their weapon so that the muzzles were aimed above Private First Class Liam Adama's casket.

"Fire!"

The boom was surprisingly loud. With everyone quiet and not a sound disturbing the ceremony the seven shots seemed like one loud explosion. I squinted at the sun hitting my face. Even my peaked hat failed to block the light completely. It was pretty hot considering that it was almost winter. My black dress uniform wasn't helping much.

"Chamber round!"

The sound of empty casings clattering on the pavement seemed too loud.

"Aim!"

A fly was buzzing around my ear, but I would not move. My right arm was getting a little stiff from holding it over my brow in a salute, but I would not move.

"Fire!"

My eyes switched from the faces of the guests. Most of them were wearing black suits with white shirts and black ties. Very formal. Several of the women were wearing non-revealing black dresses and wide-brimmed hats. All the ODSTs were standing to either side of me or behind me, forming two neat lines. Some other men and women were wearing the standard white dress uniform for the UNSC Marines. They were also formed up and saluting. For all his chatting Adama never did get to tell me about his short stay in the regular Corps.

"Chamber round!"

Adama's two little brothers were too young too understand what was happening, but they knew that they would never see their cool older brother ever again. It almost killed me to see that they were both saluting with their backs stretched and their free hands at attention. Their parents had grim faces, but they hadn't shed a tear.

"Aim."

The stitched on my white gloves were slightly sideways. They felt weird when pressed against my temple. For all our technological prowess I couldn't figure why the UNSC hadn't found a way to make stitch-less clothing more cost effective than the regular kind. Maybe it had to do something with tradition.

"Fire!"

The last volley of the 3-volley salute seemed to echo for a long time, but it couldn't have been more than ten seconds. My mind wandered off as Lieutenant Hayes gave several commands. Four men from Adama's squad moved towards the empty casket and grabbed the corners of the United Nations Space Command flag that was covering it. They slowly folded the flag into a triangle and presented it to Adama's wife. Widow.

She was beautiful, that much was evident. I couldn't really blame Liam for falling in love with her. Tall, with dark skin and black hair. She had those eyes, light brown, much like Hanna's. Unlike her in-laws, she was visibly crying, but the tears were solemn ones. Running down her cheeks and leaving them marked. She met and held Lieutenant Hayes' stare when she received the flag. Whatever words the el-tee said I couldn't hear, but I saw the widow mouth a quick 'thank you' in return.

It was Adama's son, however, that proved to be the hardest sight to take in. He had an unusual tone of dark skin and dark hair, but his father's features were clearly there. He also had his mother's eyes. This one would be breaking a lot of hearts in a few years.

"Gunnery Sergeant."

I suddenly realized that Lieutenant Tahlia Hayes was standing in front of me. Not for the first time I was taken aback by her looks. She had one golden bar on either collar of her uniform, and the caricature-esque unit insignia of the 7th ODST Battalion was stitched on her sleeve. Her eyes seemed to be boring into my skull, but her face was the image of pure professionalism. I wondered what it would be like to be with her.

"Ma'am," I said in reply.

Hayes said nothing, instead simply extending her arms. In between her hands she was holding a folded crimson flag. I could see that the edges were golden. It was all I could see, but I knew that if one were to extend the flag it would display the fearsome insignia of all Helljumpers. A yellow entry vehicle with a red flaming skull. I dropped my salute and grabbed the flag from the lieutenant's hands. She gave me a quick nod before marching to a different position and standing at attention.

I was suddenly the center of attention. I didn't like that at all. At the very least, I didn't like it in circumstances like these. I had never gone to a military funeral before in my life.

Nope, that's a lie. I had been to funerals, but always as an observant, or because Marina, Hanna, or even Pavel had asked me to come. Back in my early days on the Inconvenience I hadn't even bothered with names, let alone funerals. I regretted those decisions now, but I hadn't even looked up the dead soldiers' names. Didn't need to feel any more guilt.

I walked through the space in between Liam Adama's family and me. His widow was holding the white and black flag in her hands tightly, her arms were shaking. I avoided her eyes when they met mine and instead looked at her son. Had Adama told me his name? Had I forgotten it? It was too late to think about it. I stood directly in front of them, incredibly aware of the several dozen eyes planted on me.

Very slowly I moved from the widow to the child. His head was staring at the ground, examining my dress shoes. Like his younger uncles he was wearing a black suit and tie that didn't seem to fit his face.

"Son," I said quietly, almost in a whisper.

Liam's son slowly looked up, his eyes were red and his lips were quivering. I almost cried when I saw his face. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I took a knee so that I was on even ground with the little boy. I extended the flag to him, noticing that it was dirty and stained. Some stains were from dirt, others from blood, and others from substances unknown. Whether the flag had turned that way during our trek through the mountains or before I couldn't know.

The kid slowly raised his shaky hands and pressed them against the flag. His hands were small when compared to mine, and they seemed awful vulnerable.

"Your father was a brave man," I said quietly so that only he and his mom could hear.

Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he nodded.

I looked down at the flag and into his eyes again. "Do you have it?"

He nodded.

"Do you have it?" I asked once more.

"I have it," he replied weakly.

I slowly let go of the flag and placed one of my hands on his shoulder. "A great man, never forget that."

I stood up and walked past the casket and back to my position in between Pavel and a guy from First Squad whose name I didn't know.

"Getting soft Francisco," a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

"What you did was a great thing," Scarecrow said on my other side.

"But it's not the real you," Schitzo countered.

I closed my eyes and they disappeared. Everything else seemed to fly by in a blur.

"Frank?"

"Sorry," I told Pavel. "I dozed off a little bit. Heat's killing me."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Everyone was offering their condolences to Adama's widow or chatting with one another. I could see that Master Sergeant Dajani and Staff Sergeant Greg Williams were talking to the widow at the time. Both of them had been in Third Squad, serving alongside Adama more often than the rest of us. Lieutenant Hayes was making small talk with the jarhead ranking officer. The man was obviously a little nervous at being in such close proximity with a Helljumper. His body language couldn't help but make me smile.

Someone cleared their throat next to me. I turned to see Miranda Novak looking at me with expectant eyes.

"Yeah?" I asked her.

"Gunny…"

I realized what she was worried about. "Relax Miri," I said. "I just found it amusing that despite the situation the regulars still find us intimidating."

Miranda looked over to the lieutenant and let out a soft chuckle. "Weird, huh?"

I nodded slowly.

Some of the people were beginning to leave after paying their final respects. The coffin would remain above ground for a few more hours before the grave digging robots came to do their job. I wiped sweat from my face and took of my hat, ruffling through my hair before putting it back on.

"You're not going to talk to the widow?" Miranda asked me.

I shook my head. "I wouldn't know what to say."

"You were there when it happened, maybe she'd just like to know-"

"Would you like to know if your husband was shot through the head? Every single detail of it? She knows that Liam was killed in action, that's all she needs to know."

"If you say so, Gunny."

"I do say so," I asserted. "You were also there when it happened, why don't you go and talk to her?"

"I…" she stuttered. "I wouldn't. I don't think it's my place."

"Right."

Miranda cleared her throat and stood awkwardly. "Umm…did you hear about Actium?"

I looked at her quizzically. "Are you actually trying to make conversation? That's very unlike you." I smiled. "But yes, I've heard about Actium, nothing concrete though. In my opinion it's just ONI propaganda."

"If you say so," she said again.

I could see that Pavel was getting into his car. Amber hadn't come to the funeral, but she didn't have any reason to. I was willing to bet that Pavel was almost desperate to return to his family. I wasn't in a rush to leave, but I would've preferred to be somewhere else. Standing so close to the coffin I couldn't help but wonder if there was something that I could've done to save Liam.

"So Gunny, what do you usually do on leave?"

"Drink," I replied. "But that's slowly changing." I couldn't help but keep the frustration out of my voice. I was willing to drink less to be with Hanna, but boy did the booze help. "Rest, catch up on new films. Try to lead a normal life. Why do you ask?"

Miranda smiled nervously. Everything she did she did nervously. "It's my first leave."

"You have friends out of the military, I take it."

"Yes," she replied.

"Go out with them, have some fun, party hard, get laid. You're still pretty young so just enjoy your life as much as you can."

"Hm…"

"What? You expected old sage advice?" I asked. "I'm thirty, not a hundred." I sighed. "Listen Miri, you're young. Enjoy your life as much as you can. In this line of work, odds are that it wont be a long one."

Miranda looked thoughtfull for a moment. "That sounded more sage-like."

I smiled.

"Frank, there you are!"

I turned around only to have Hanna plant a quick kiss on my lips. My smile turned into a grin. "Hey you," I said.

Hanna was dressed in casual clothing. I had told her to come pick me up after the funeral was over, but apparently she was tired of waiting inside the car. She turned to face Miranda and examined her carefully. "You must be Martina."

"Miranda," I corrected.

"Um, yes," she replied. Miranda looked at the two of us before redirecting her eyes to the ground. "Uh, sorry. I guess I'll see you later Gunny."

"M-hm," I nodded. I watched as Miranda moved towards Serge just so that it wouldn't seem like she was alone. It was funny how the French veteran didn't even seem to notice her. "Hanna, why are you here so early?"

"I'm not," she told me.

I glanced at my watch and realized that she wasn't lying. The ceremony had gone on for longer than I imagined. "Right." I looked over to Liam's widow but she wasn't here anymore. I spotted her climbing inside a vehicle before it took off.

Hanna said something.

"Sorry, what?"

Hanna sighed. "I asked if you wanted to have a late lunch before heading to Esztergom."

"Sure, where do you want to go?"

"There's a diner nearby, it's supposed to be good."

"Katie worked in a diner," Schitzo said.

"Hmm, I don't feel like a diner," I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. "How about a sports bar?"

"We always go to sports bar," Hanna reminded me.

"Then where do you want to go?"

"To the diner!"

I looked around, people were leaving, but I didn't want them staring at us because we were fighting. We weren't fighting yet, but my keen male sense could tell that it was most certainly an option right now. I gave her my best smile. "Fine, fine, we'll go to the diner, ok hon?"

"Ok," she said solemnly.

I smiled again and put my hat on her head. It looked oversized and cute on her. "You drive."

The moment we parked outside of the diner I let out an obnoxiously loud sigh of relief. I let myself slouch a little bit in my seat and looked at Hanna.

She only rolled her eyes and smiled. "Ass."

Walking inside I unbuttoned my black jacket, being careful not to mess up all the ornaments, medals ribbons, and badges. I put the jacket on the far end of our booth and then took off my white gloves. Hanna sat down in front of me, still wearing my peaked cap. Let me reiterate how ludicrously cute she looked wearing the oversized cap. She probably knew it and that was the reason she didn't take it off.

"Good afternoon, what can I do for you?"

The waitress, for every self-respecting diner only hired female servers, was pretty, but not overtly so. This place was enough of a guilt trip for me without the need of attractive waitresses.

"Banana?" I asked Hanna.

She shook her head at the nickname, but failed to hide a smile. "The daily sub, please."

"Of course, and you sir?"

"The double cheeseburger. With extra bacon."

"Right away. Drinks?"

"Diet coke," Hanna said.

"Vanilla milkshake."

Both the waitress and my girlfriend eyed me curiously. I just shrugged and said nothing.

"Why don't they have robo-waiters or terminal?" I asked. "Diners, I mean." Nowadays only fancy restaurants and old-fashioned diners had actual waiters.

"Part of the charm, I guess."

"If they wanted charm they'd make those skirts shorter," I noted.

"Frank!" Hanna exclaimed while poking me.

"Good going Francisco," Schitzo said. "Just pretend that everything's normal and nothing's wrong."

I ignored him, I was becoming increasingly adept at blocking out feelings and sensations that I didn't want to feel. What I did want to feel was the lovely taste of the hamburger on my mouth. Unlike most other diners, this one used actual meat instead of cloned steaks. Very much like that diner back in Paris IV.

Damn.

"Is it good?" I asked Hanna.

"Yup," she said, eagerly digging into her sandwich. "You?"

"I'm willing to bet it's better than yours."

"Some of us prefer healthy eating Frank." She laughed. "If you ever stop hitting the gym you'll get fat in a heartbeat."

"Hey, in the meanwhile," I shrugged, taking a large bite of the burger. "Mmm, wow, it's so good!"

"Stop it," Hanna whispered. "People are staring!"

"But it's just so good!" I said loudly. "Mmm!"

"Frank!" she laughed, hitting me in the arm. "Seriously stop."

"You don't sound too serious."

It was a pleasant change of mood. The funeral had been tiring, both physically and mentally. While I could stand in the sun for long periods of time without complaining, I didn't exactly enjoy seeing grieving widows and family friends. Spending time with my girlfriend, just talking and having fun was good. I had to savor this little moments because they didn't come very often.

"Check please," I told the waitress. I turned to Hanna. "So, you want to head home?"

"Yeah," she sighed, stretching her arms. "I could use the nap."

"I was thinking we could get a little bit…you know. If the car can drive itself…"

"Frank! No."

"Aw, come on, the backseat in your car is more than big enough, and if you're feeling a bit adventurous-"

"No, there are cameras everywhere!"

"We just activate privacy mode," I countered. "Nothing can see through those windows."

"Really? You can't wait six hours until we get to a regular bed."

"Augh, so conformist," I muttered sarcastically. "Your loss."

She chuckled. "Yeah right."

I opened my eyelids violently. My eyes jerked from side to side violently, looking for any threats. Deep inside me I knew that there were no threats inside the bedroom, that was the only reason why I didn't jump up into a combat stance. I gently moved Hanna's arm from across my chest and sat up on the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. My clothes were all by my feet, and my jeans still had my pistol holster on the belt, with the pistol still attached to it.

I reached for the pistol and pressed the barrel against my temple, tapping it against my head a couple of times before putting it down.

"Frank," Hanna moaned, still half asleep. "What?"

"It's nothing, go back to sleep."

I must've said it in a sharp tone or Hanna was better at reading me than I thought because she got up, clutching the sheets to her so that she wouldn't be naked. It seemed weird, but every girl had her own personal quirks.

"Did you have that dream again?"

"Nightmare."

"Yeah, sorry. Listen, if you want I can stay awake with you," she told me.

I smiled, not really feeling it. "Thanks Banana, I think I'll just go for a walk."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." I kissed her in the forehead gently. "I'll be back in half an hour. Tops."

She sighed sadly. "Ok. Be careful."

"I will," I promised.

I left my sidearm on the night table but took my knife with me, attaching it to a special horizontal holster on my belt instead of beneath my jeans. It allowed for quicker access.

The streets of Eszterghom were empty of pedestrians, but the occasional car sped by. The wide sidewalks were immaculate, the cleaning robots had just finished doing their job. I probably just missed them. A couple of the night lights were flickering, probably overdue for a change of bulbs, but I barely noticed it. As I walked I thought about the implications of what I was going through. I had known it and admitted it before.

I was going crazy.

Never before had I felt that that statement was true as much as I did right now. The scars on my palm were hurting. They were already a couple of months old, but there were still little bumps on my palm. Whenever I stretched my hands too much I felt like something was pulling back. The main slice ran the width of my hand, and several other smaller cuts were littered along the palm. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but it didn't warrant epidural reconstruction.

"My, my Francisco. Your world is falling to pieces and all you can think off is that little sissy cut on your hand." Schitzo was obviously having the time of his life.

"You are what you are, do not try to fight it."

I looked around, there was no one nearby. "And give in to madness?"

"You're choosing between two types of madness, one that you can probably learn to control. Emphasize the probably. And another one that will slowly eat away your core until you just cant take it." As he said this Schitzo raised a pistol that looked very much like my sidearm to his temple. He looked up from the bench he was sitting in and tapped it a couple of times against his head. "And when you reach that point."

The gunshot was way louder than it should've been, and there was way too many blood. I jerked and jumped back, one hand already reaching for my knife even as Schitzo's dead corpse fell to the sidewalk. Blood poured out of his head in ungodly quantities, painting the sidewalk a dark red. I rubbed my eyes and when I opened them he was gone.

"You have to fight it," Scarecrow told me.

"Sometimes I think he's right," I told my friend. "That I just need to live with it."

"Don't talk like that, Sarge."

I sighed. Schitzo had a point. I could learn to live with his annoying (and often frightening) appearances and the nightmares. People already thought that we Helljumpers were insane, they wouldn't kick me out of the Corps as long as I didn't kill anybody. The UNSC needed everyone they could get their hands on.

On the other hand, I would be a maniac.

I dwelled on it as I walked around the block.

There was one third option, but I didn't know if it would work. The number was on my phone. I doubted it was his personal number, but if he gave it to me then it was probably a good number. I dialed it. As expected, the machine told me to leave a message after ringing twice.

"Major, I want to know more about this Spartan-IV program. I want to know everything about it, sir."

I hung up. I didn't expect an answer, but hell, everything was possible.

When I returned to Hanna's apartment she shuffled in the bed. "Feeling better."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Good, now come," she slurred her words. I don't known whether she was trying to sound sexy or cute, but she just sounded like a drunk.

"Of course," I replied, slipping inside the sheets with her.

If I ever missed something when I was deployed, it was this place. The Grenadier. Dear God I missed it.

Captain Montgomery had greeted me heartily, reminding me of the exact time it had been since I had last shown up in the bar. Or pub, whatever. At this time there were only a few costumers, most of them were actually alcoholics, drowning their sorrows and failures on their drinks. It was about time I joined them.

"Hey Cap, one for the house on me," I told him.

"One round free of charge!" Montgomery announced immediately. "Courtesy of this gentleman right here."

A few of the patrons thanked me, but most just looked up and raised their drinks half-heartedly. I felt as bad as they looked.

"Captain, got a new picture for you wall of pride," I told Montgomery, referring to the wall of pictures behind the bar. "It's a good one."

"Well show it," he told me.

I reached into my coat and pulled out a picture that showed Pavel and I smiling at the camera with Rob raising a crappy-looking trophy and Snark trying to reach for it. Miranda stood awkwardly apart from all of us, looking at the camera with a serious expression.

"Who's the shy chick?" a voice from behind asked.

"Murphy, how you doing?" I asked him. "Been a while."

"Tell me about it," he grunted, seating down next to me. "I take it you heard about Actium?"

"Yeah, ONI propaganda?"

"Don't think so, I had a friend on the sounds like the kind of shit his CO would pull off."

"Damn, if its true at least we showed them bastards."

"Hey Frank, how are you?"

"Lys!" I smiled at the waitress. She was wearing the standard sexy military-like uniform. "How are you?"

She rather obviously cut in between Murphy and me before running her hand through my upper arm. "Where's that girlfriend of yours?"

"You never flirt with me like that!" Murphy complained loudly.

"That's because you don't tip sweetheart," she said, turning to face him.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure I tip you that-"

"Shh," she interrupted. "Just enjoy it."

"What's up with her?" I asked Montgomery.

"She got engaged," he told me. "Got a weird way of showing her happiness, flirting and then turning guys down. I guess it's because she's got an excuse now."

"Huh," I said, agreeing with his point of view. "So, who snagged her? Helljumper? Ranger? Airborne infantry?"

"Accountant."

"Funny how things work out sometimes, eh?" Murphy said, taking a healthy swig from his drink.

"Indeed."

The conversation was pleasant. And by pleasant I mean that we barely talked and instead focused on watching the game that the screens were showing. Montgomery had installed this nice little holos in the bar that could display one of three different sports channels. Or all three at once. They were actually pretty neat. I tried to keep it within reasonable limits with my alcohol, but before I knew it there were two empty whiskey glasses and four bottles of beer tightly packed in front of me. It seemed weird that there was no tilting of the room.

Now that I think of it, my body's tolerance for alcohol had increased dramatically after I got augmentated. One more thing to thank them for.

"Hey Captain, think Pavel's coming?" I asked Montgomery.

"Not really Frank, he doesn't come as much anymore, likes to spend time with his family."

I nodded slowly. "In that case I think I'll be leaving." I swiped my card over the counter and it beeped as I got my drinks charged to me. "I'll see you later Cap. Murphy."

"Have a good one Frank," the sergeant said, not taking his eyes from the game.

"Hey Frank," Montgomery stopped me, leading me to the edge of the bar counter. "Are you all right?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You just seem…weird," he said. "I don't really know how to explain it."

"I'm not all right," I replied, patting him in the shoulder. "But I'll survive."

"It's what we do," Montgomery replied, nodding grimly. "Take care."

"I always do."

When the doors opened I was almost blinded by the sun. It took a moment for my hyper-sensitive eyes to adapt to the change in lighting before I could see everything clearly. I looked to my left and saw what looked very much like Doctor Sigfrid Vinter emerging from the strip club that stood next to the Grenadier.

"Doc?"

"Ah," he replied awkwardly. "Good afternoon."

"It's only afternoon?" I asked him, looking at my watch. "Huh."

"Isn't it a little bit early to be drinking?" he asked me.

"It's also a little bit early to be going to a strip bar."

"Point taken," he chuckled. "But every man has a right to their own guilty pleasures."

"Aren't all the crappy dancers there at this time of day?" I asked.

"Yeah, but they try so much harder."

I laughed loudly. "I thought you were still married."

"I am, but she doesn't mind my having a little bit of fun as long as it doesn't go too far."

I shrugged. Some people had different standards and points of view.

"Hey Gunny, I'm having dinner with my family, care to join?"

I was caught by surprise. "Uh, yeah, I couldn't intrude."

"I never did give you an appropriate thank you for helping my wife."

"I assure you that it isn't necessary Doc."

"Come on, I insist, besides, Astrid's been asking about you for a while."

I turned away to hide the look on my face. "Um."

"Relax, she's old enough to know that she's not in love, she just kind of thinks of you as a larger than life person."

She's not too wrong either, I said to myself, indulging in a bit of self-flattering.

"Fine, but if something goes boom I don't take responsibility for it."

"Of course not," Sigfrid laughed.

The doctor's house was a pretty big one for a man in the military. I guess that medical officers got paid more than other officers. Besides, being a lieutenant commander probably had its perks.

"Honey, I'm home!" Doctor Vinter announced in an unnecessarily loud voice when he walked in. "I brought guests!"

"Guests?!" a voice came from another room. "You should've warned me bef-" Mrs. Vinter emerged from a door and looked at me for a full three seconds before her eyes went wide in recognition. "Sergeant Castillo!"

"Gunnery Sergeant," I corrected half-heartedly. "Gunny or Frank will do."

"Frank, of course, welcome!"

"Thanks," I replied nervously. This was getting really awkward for me. "I'm glad to see your leg is doing fine."

"Oh, just great, they didn't even need to operate."

"Biofoam's a modern miracle, am I right?" Sigfrid said. "Sweetheart I'm hungry, is dinner ready?"

Mrs. Vinter rolled her eyes. "It's always ready, you just press a button, remember? I was just waiting on Astrid." She turned towards me. "Can I offer you anything?"

"A glass of water would be nice," I asked her, reminding myself that I was still technically drunk.

I sat down on the living room and both of the Vinters joined me. It was extremely weird to see them talking so amicable and happily. I had heard from Doctor Vinter that they needed the time apart because they got on each other's nerves, but it certainly seemed like it helped. I was looking at them and they seemed to be as much in love with one another as anyone could be.

"Sounds like she's here," I said, hearing footsteps on the doorstep.

"Wha-" Doctor Vinter started before the sound of a door sliding open interrupted him. "Nice ears."

I shrugged.

"Hey Mom, Dad."

"How was school honey?"

"It was all right, just a bunch of lectures and- oh."

"Hey Astrid," I said, smiling.

"Frank?"

The way she said my name was slightly unnerving. The way she hugged me next was even more unnerving.

I looked at her parents over her shoulder as I patted her back awkwardly. Her dad was smiling and shaking his head. Her mom was just shaking her head. It should've been the other way around according to traditional stereotypes, but not here.

"It's been…what?"

"Since Lambari?" I asked. "Two years."

"Whoa, certainly doesn't feel like that long."

To me it did. Besides, she had most certainly grown. Genetics had been nice to her.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked me.

"Yes he is," her mom replied.

"I bet you have a lot of great stories, huh?" Sigfrid asked me.

"I-"

"When dad told me that you were on his ship I was so excited."

"I-"

"Enough talking, dinner's ready."

Thanks you Mrs. Vinter.

Dinner was chicken roast with mashed potatoes, green beans, asparagus, gravy, and more.

"Whoa," I said quietly.

"Yeah, we've got a very nice kitchen. It can cook pretty much anything."

I chuckled. "If I can afford one of those I'm certainly getting it. Takeout doesn't hold the same magic that it used to."

Astrid laughed and sat down. I decided to play it safe and sat next to Sigfrid and opposite the college student. On retrospect it might've been a bad decision, because she was in that age where everything that was low cut seemed fashionable.

When Katie had leaned forward to show me a little bit of cleavage I had found it sexy and alluring. The moment Astrid tried to I just felt awkward. Awkward as hell I might add. Luckily enough, her parents didn't notice and she didn't try it again after noticing that she had had an effect on me.

Is she doing this on purpose?

Whatever her reasons, I am thankful she only did it once. Damn it, but the girl was pretty.

At first I felt weird, like I was in a movie or a series. I had never had a very large family, just my mother, my dad, may he rest in peace, and I. My brother stopped joining us on our meals before I had a decent memory, and all I had of him were vague flashes. The point is, whenever I had dinner I had it with my uncle, with a friend, with a girl, or alone. For the first time in more than twenty years I felt like I was having an honest-to-god family dinner.

It was…nice.

"So Frank, how many times have you almost died?" Sigfrid asked me.

"Excuse me?"

"Ignore my dad, he's just trying to scare me into not joining the UNSC."

I looked at her. "You should really listen to him."

"Not you too!"

"War is never nice," her mom told her.

"Especially not this one," I added.

"Still haven't answered Frank." Doctor Vinter had a playful smile on his face.

I sighed, trying to remember all the times that I had been a little too close for comfort with Mr. Reaper. My first combat mission probably counted, but I scratched that one out because I hadn't been harmed. So, twice in Aztlan, once with the El-tee's cousin and another one right after leaving her behind.

Damn Frank. You were cold.

That made two. Then I had that one time the brute chieftain stomped on my chest. Where the hell had that been? I couldn't even remember. With the elite in the fancy armor, back in Jericho VII. I still watched the helmet vids of that encounter from time to time. Seeing Pavel waste the so-called Arbiter with his weapon repeatedly always served to make me smile.

"That's four…" I muttered to myself, still counting. "What's your exact definition of almost died? I mean, could it be a bolt that singed my armor or do I have to actually be hit for it to count."

"I'll leave it to your judgment," Sigfrid said.

"In that case, I've been close to dying about six times and I've been clinically dead twice."

"Still, I'm sure that if I entered as a doctor I wouldn't be in the thick of it."

"You'd certainly see some rough things," I said.

"Agreed." Doctor Vinter looked into the wall with a somber expression. "You could find a better dream."

"But this is a worthy dream!" Astrid complained. "I mean, those men and women in Actium? They were heroes, every last one of them!"

"Astrid," I interrupted. "They might be heroes, but every single one of them is dead."

"You're impossible," she said, giving up. "Both of you."

"Let's talk about something else, shall we?" Mrs. Vinter suggested.

"Fine, how about you tell us about that time when you stormed that enem-"

"I hardly think that's an appropriate topic for dinner," I interrupted Sigfrid. I laughed. "How about you just tell me some of the news?" I suggested. "I haven't had much time to catch up on current events, with Liam's service and driving Hanna here I've-"

Astrid's back straightened like a bloodhound's. "Who's Hanna?"

Shit.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, trying to buy myself some time.

"Who's Hanna?" she repeated, sounding uninterested.

"Oh, Hanna. She's-"

And then my phone rang.

"Excuse me," I excused myself. "Gotta get this." Thank God. "Hello?"

"Castillo, I got your message?"

"Major?"

"I can't talk much right now. I'll meet you."

"But I-"

"I know where you are. Give the Vinter family my good wishes."

I nodded mostly to myself. "Where?"

"Address is on your phone. Be there in an hour. And Castillo."

"Yes?"

"Do not call this number ever again."

The line clicked as he hung up on me. I hadn't expected Cavallaro to reply to my message, but this was good news.

"Something urgent?" Mr. Vinter asked.

"No, I just have to meet someone in an hour."

"Do you need to get going?"

"I can stay to finish the meal," I assured Mrs. Vinter.

"So, back to this Hanna of yours," Astrid said persistently.

Thanks to SilasWhitfield and Alshep for proof-reading this chapter.

Guys, I don't want to sound like a total review whore but I do feel the need to point out that not a single one of you reviewed chapter 141, you know the one that I actually asked you to review. The one in third person? Yeah, that one. That chapter currently has 184 different visitors, not that much, but if one in every ten of you had reviewed that would've amounted to 18 reviews. Come on guys, I write this just for you, give a little something in return when I ask you. I'm sorry, but I really wanted some feedback on that one in particular, if it's not too much to ask you could probably tell me what you thought of that chapter when you review this one. Note that I didn't say if, but when :)

That was my equivalent of a rant, pretty sad huh, maybe I should be more assertive. But I digress, that's now what matters wight now, back to this chapter. Adama got the funeral that he deserved, even if his body was lightyears away at the time. I am extremely proud of that scene in particular, even if the rest of the chapter isn't that good. On the other hand, I always have fun when Frank finds himself in daily life situations where he has no experience. I have so much fun making him as socially awkward as possible. Not much else to say, it had been a while since we last saw Hanna, or am I imagining things?

I do feel that I should thank those of you that reviewed Chapter 142. So thanks guys.

VALKYRIE 003 worry not, answers shall come in due time. By in due time I mean that you're going to have to wait some time, but rest assured that Frank's brother will make an appearance before the war ends.

Stay strong.

-casquis