"Wake up."
Carolina sighed in her sleep, but she couldn't bring herself to open those bright green orbs. The heaviness of warmth wrapping her in comfort could not be breached so easily. She was resilient and always had been since her youth. Her father, a scientist, was as stubborn as a mule. Her mother, a career soldier, was equally as head strong. 'Hard headed' her father liked to tease.
"Come on, Carolina. Wake up, breakfast is getting cold."
It was a decidedly male voice which beckoned her, one that she distinctly recognized, but it wasn't her father. Her tall frame and well-toned muscles denoted her rigorous diet and exercise regimen, which revealed to her foggy mind that she was indeed adult.
The momentarily disembodied voice was muffled due to the dark wool of her sleep. She heard the air of laid-back playfulness, however and it made her smile. She heard the tease behind the summoning. He knew how grumpy she got when she didn't have her bacon, ham and black coffee in the morning.
Carolina stirred beneath the covers and groaned. The promise of breakfast overrode her laziness, however and she opened her eyes. The sight which greeted her was one of peaceful familiarity. Upper middle-class tranquility flowed from every stitch of clothes on the beige carpet. Simple but comfortable homeliness loomed among every piece of furniture, which she idly thought could use a good dusting.
She looked in the desktop mirror and saw a happy woman staring back. What could she have traded this life for? Something niggled in the back of her mind and it felt like something she may have forgotten. A simple chore that was easily forgotten. The thought she had had about having traded her family life for something else had triggered it. Some sort of mysterious Deja-vu, maybe a past thought she had suppressed.
Perhaps she had traded the possibility of a family life for something else in another life. That, she couldn't be sure of. Reincarnation wasn't in the list of her beliefs. She had run from the chance to enter into a top-secret government organization her father had been given control of early in her career, content to be well-respected, even lauded, as the leading Commander of her colony's military force.
A healthy income and the love of her husband, a self-employed mercenary, was all that she felt she needed in her life. She didn't need the mystery and promise of adventure of a clandestine project.
She shook her head and walked, more stumbled, into the main bathroom. She shed her clothes and stared into the full-wall mirror at her visage. Two children and thirty years had been very kind to her body. She was tall and well-muscled, but her size, the roundness in her cheeks, her bright green eyes and her fiery red hair brought out a cuteness that her husband had often teased her of. It was hard to be an intimidating military force when she was cute, after all.
She stepped into a steaming hot shower and rinsed the sleep away from her body. It clung well, like a specter, but it eventually dissipated and Carolina felt herself smile as she woke up into a good mood. Better than normal in fact.
Carolina slipped into one of her husband's extra-large cotton undershirts and a pair of plaid sleep pants and headed into the hallway, down the single flight of stairs, into the foyer and finally into the kitchen.
"Hi mommy! Good morning!" Seven year old Jenna Church greeted her mother. Twelve year old Jacob Leonard Church was busy stuffing his face, as was normal for the pre-teen.
"Good morning, Jen. Jacob." Carolina greeted her children with a smile and a kiss. She had to hold onto Jacob as he tried squirming away from his mother's embrace before finally surrendering to the loving peck on the cheek.
"You'll never be that strong." Carolina teased.
"Why do you always have to kiss me, mom? It's embarrassing!" Jacob sighed.
"Until you're strong enough to wrestle me, you'll always be my baby boy. That's why. Now slow down before you choke."
This earned Carolina a groan and an eye roll before Jacob followed the given order.
"Hey baby." Her husband said softly as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her cheek, a light growth of whiskers tickling her skin.
"York. Good morning sexy. How'd you sleep?"
"It's impossible to sleep badly with you by my side." York said. Carolina could feel his smile on her tender neck flesh. Carolina chuckled and leaned back into his good morning embrace.
"That was a good one. You're usually as good with pickup lines as you are with opening locked doors." Carolina teased.
"That's not entirely true. After all, I managed to unlock yours."
Carolina gasped and laughed as the kids groaned. With a wink York made his way back to the stove and loaded a plate for Carolina.
Carolina smiled at her children as they ate. Their green eyes sparkled: her eyes… her father's eyes. She grinned at the memory that those same eyes once sparkled just as mischievously as her children's. Carolina remembered being the most tomboyish of the children in her school. She studied gratuitously and graduated the very top of her class; Valedictorian. Her mother congratulated her and her father continued to push her.
"One achievement is simply the prologue to another." Leonard had told his daughter, still standing with her black cap and gown flowing over her older-than-her-years skirt and blouse combination. She had sighed with a frown, hurt over her father's neglect.
"It isn't that I am not proud of you, Carolina." Leonard said with a roll of his eyes.
"It's simply that if I encourage you too much, you may simply fall out of place and the achievements that I know you crave will one day elude you."
"Whatever, dad. You could at least tell me you love me once and a while." Carolina groaned.
"Why would I tell you what you already know? Now come on, you have reason to celebrate and you need to get ready, let's go home."
The memory had haunted her for some time. She had understood that chance that Leonard had given her when he had invited her to work on his secret scientific research project had been an opportunity. However, neither the prospect of finally winning his love nor hearing his admittance that he was stupefied at the wondrous winnings that his only daughter had carried out in her life could sway her.
It didn't matter anymore, her pursuit of his acceptance, and she had pompously told him so before she boarded the plane to the suburbs of Chicago alongside the man smiling at her from across the table, still just as in love with her as he had been the day they had met. Partners in the UNSC Marines became lovers.
Oddly enough, Leonard had given York the opportunity to unite with him and become part of the same project he had offered Carolina a part of. However, just as Carolina had predicted, York had politely declined and stayed with her to make a life with his partner, his lover, his friend and his wife. No amount of UNSC Credits could tear their family apart.
Carolina shook herself from her reverie, realizing that the more she thought, the less she ate. She couldn't wrap her mind around the odd day she had been having, and she had barely been awake for thirty minutes.
It seemed that no sooner had she shaken herself from her memories that the still, whispering voice in her mind came forth once more. It seemed to impress that something was wrong, amiss. It was as if she had forgotten something. Something important. She simply could not remember what.
"Carolina?" York asked after his wife.
She blinked to clear her eyes of the tears she hadn't known she had produced and looked to the handsome soldier clad in yellow armor. His visor didn't display his emotions, but his voice betrayed the fact that she had made him wonder.
"Yeah? Where are…" Carolina began.
That homely, cozy kitchen was gone, replaced by more horrifically familiar surroundings. The beach. The crumbling grey ruins of an ancient alien temple. A battleground, to Carolina's perspective, stained only in the blood of New York.
Who knew how many ancient Sang-heli and Spartan warriors decorated the monument with bullet holes and blood, but the staggering body count was reduced to only one single entity in Carolina's mind: the death New York at the side of her mother, Texas, while fighting an old friend and former ally, Wyoming.
She had sworn to herself to despise New York for siding with her rather than with the woman he had supposedly loved. However every time she had seen his face; whether in the form of the holo-recording that Epsilon had shown her or here and now in the flesh in the world of whatever fever-dream this was; Carolina found that she could not speak.
He had only sided with Texas because he believed he was doing what was right. He had thrown aside the leadership of Carolina's father and had sided with Carolina's mother, or at least the program of her mother trapped inside a mechanical body.
At the time Carolina could not understand what would drive the man to turn on her. But as she pondered New York's part in sabotaging Project Freelancer, she finally was able to understand.
He hadn't turned on her because he didn't love her. He hadn't turned on Carolina whatsoever. He had pled with her to join him in breaking free from the Project, but as stubborn as Carolina was in real life, she had refused to let go and had fallen fast and hard holding onto the shattered remains of her father's organization.
The beach surrounding the two commandoes was peaceful, belying York's silence and Carolina's inner monologue. Every time she stared into that visor, or into those broken eyes, she found her mind a muddle of thoughts and it was always as if she had forgotten how to speak, how to even breathe with this man around her. He affected her even when she had tried to lie to herself and tell herself that he had no effect on her whatsoever. He always found a way to strike her dumb and now was no exception.
Carolina wished she could return to the peaceful… heaven that she had felt within the walls of her imaginary home with her ethereal suburban family. However she had transcended that paradise into a hell that she had at one point in her life tried desperately to forget. She had failed and now that she stood with York on top of his grave, she felt a heart wrenching guilt that only one phrase could alleviate.
She was in no better shape now than when she had travelled to this ancient alien monument two years before when Epsilon showed her those journals York had kept, rendering her speechless. She would not be stopped from speaking those words now, however. No force in the universe was that powerful.
Carolina wished she could see beneath the yellow armor to the scarred flesh, well groomed brown mop, those striking and playful eyes and even that comely boyish grin.
York turned away from Carolina and toward his makeshift grave. The driftwood she had fashioned into a crude but heartfelt cross relating to his Catholic nature had been bleached white by the hot sun. The mound which carried his bones was interrupted by a lone battle rifle, his weapon in another time. Its matte black surface was sullied by dust and the months of time perpetrated upon its steel and working parts.
"Where were you, Carolina?" York spoke finally. The grief he had felt for so long in losing Carolina and thinking her dead made his normally cheerful and playful voice sound hollow and much older than his twenty-nine years.
"I waited for you. Everything I heard from UNSC command pointed to you, I thought. But no. It was just Texas."
"I can't answer that," Carolina said softly, "But what I have to say now is… I'm sorry."
Two years earlier she had been struck speechless by this place, haunted by his face and voice and presence. But this time was different. She would say the words she should have said two years ago.
"For siding with my father against you. For holding onto Project Freelancer when I should have joined you. For leaving you for five years to wander alone without me. For making you worry about that. For letting go. For… for so many things I couldn't list them all in a conversation."
Carolina approached York and touched him. He didn't feel real. He didn't feel warm or present. Touching him was like touching a cold walkway, devoid of life.
"I'm sorry I hurt you and I can never make it up now."
"You could have joined me, but I've always understood your choice. I know why you chose the way you did. I just wish you hadn't." York said softly.
"I found your journals. You said the same thing in those recordings."
To Carolina's surprise York chuckled.
"No, you didn't. That was Epsilon." York reminded her.
Carolina blushed.
"I guess I just owed you for all those times you lied to me about all of those locked doors."
"Yeah, yeah. I guess I can forgive this one." New York joked.
"All I know, York," Carolina said somberly, "is if I could go back and change my mind, I would."
"Ebenezer's dream is a myth, Carolina. All we have is here and now." York said, turning back to gaze at his beloved.
"What can I do?" she asked, her voice shaking as she spoke her innermost thoughts for the first time, "How can I atone for all of this? All of these… lost years I've put between us."
"You're talking about amending what has already been atoned." York said with a smile which was blocked by his helmet.
"But there has to be…" Carolina spoke louder, unwilling to be forgiven after having done nothing to atone for her sins against this great man.
"You made amends." York interrupted, "You helped the Reds and Blues. You even befriended Caboose. You made up with Epsilon. You apologized to Washington. You helped decide the fate of two innocent armies on Chorus. You are trying to help the Reds and Blues build a home once again in Valhalla. The only thing I can possibly ask of you to make it up to me is for you to… move on with your life. To let go, but we both know how hard that is for you."
York lay a hand on Carolina's shoulder, but she could scarcely feel it, although she craved to feel his warmth once again. Carolina saw York's sudden nakedness. She blushed when she realized her own. She searched his eyes… his eyes. Both were once again friendly and brown.
"You need to let go and move on from me." York insisted.
"No!" Carolina shouted, eyes wide.
"You have to! Wake up, Carolina! I never would have wanted you to remove yourself from your own life for my memory."
"I can't! I was wrong! I would give anything to be with you now but it's too late! I squandered it by being stubborn and bullheaded and not going with you, not even so much as looking for you until it was too late! I don't deserve…"
"You deserve the moon and stars, Carolina. You deserve to be happy again."
"I deserve to live my life chasing ghosts." Carolina whispered. York wrapped his arms around her, cold and lifeless as they were they had no real comfort on her.
"Don't ever say that again." York whispered angrily.
"But…"
"Don't." York interrupted.
"You have always had a hard time letting go of things." York continued, "But you have to. That's an order."
York let that boyish grin cross his handsome face again.
"I am lying in that grave behind us, nothing more than bones. You are alive and you need to be alive. My last request from you is for you to move on with your life, once and for all. You can remember me fondly, but you have to move on."
"Okay York. I love you…" Carolina started.
York looked afraid as he grasped Carolina's hands.
"Your team is reviving you. You are waking up. Promise me, Carolina." York said.
York was now fading, but as painful as it was, Carolina could not disservice York like she had done the last time.
"I promise, York." Carolina whispered.
York and the beach surrounding them disappeared from view and Carolina saw nothing but blackness behind closed eyes.
"York! No!" Carolina cried out as her green eyes shot open. Her breath came and went, hissing into and out of her lungs as she took in the green grass and blue sky and canyon around her.
Washington leaned forward, his helmetless eyes watching hers, his mouth looking scared, but happy that she had awakened.
"What? Where's York?" Carolina wondered dumbly.
"York isn't here… he's gone Carolina. Are you feeling alright?" Washington asked, his voice filled with worry.
"Wash?" Carolina asked softly, staring into his dark brown eyes.
"That's right. That UNSC Special Agent… was she who I thought she was?" Washington asked.
Carolina nodded, gulping down a gush of water Doc produced from his place at Washington's side.
"That's right," Carolina said, gasping. "That was Arkansas."
"Damn… 479'er… Well, she shot you with several rounds of modified training paint. That lockdown stuff we had to deal with while we were training in Project Freelancer."
"Damn… you were right Washington. That stuff hurts like a bitch." Carolina admitted with a smile.
"Told you so." Washington said. "Anyway, Arkansas doused that crap with a lot of very serious sedative. You were unconscious when I pulled you out of there and Doc revived you."
"Thank you, Doc." Carolina said seriously, looking over to the purple-clad medic.
"Ah, don't mention it. You know what they say, practice makes perfect! And I'm starting to get really good at this stuff with everyone getting shot all the time." Doc said cheerfully.
"Good to know this stuff has a silver lining." Carolina deadpanned.
"Hey, you can't practice field medicine without shooting, cutting, maiming, blowing up, crushing or running over a few eggs. Or just throwing those eggs off a cliff." Doc said.
"Don't tell me…" Carolina groused.
"Yep. Sarge duct taped some tree limbs and animal hide to Grif's arms and then threw him off a cliff. Something about inventing a new flying machine." Doc said.
"Damn it, Sarge. I swear I'm going to…" Carolina muttered but didn't finish.
"Well, I'm all done here so if you guys don't mind, I'm sure there's somebody out there being stabbed or shot or something. See ya back out there Carolina!" Doc said, packing his bag and leaving the spot where Carolina lay with Washington not far away.
"What is it?" Wash wondered after a moment.
"You always know when something's wrong don't you?" Carolina said sighing.
"I just know that you're not quiet without a reason." Washington said.
"I saw York. I spoke to him." Carolina said.
"I'm sure that tranquilizer made you hallucinate. I guess it rattled you?"
Carolina nodded.
"Don't worry about it. Bad dreams pass in time." Washington said, but Carolina was silent.
"Well, I'm needed out there. There's a battle going on. You in?" Washington asked. He held his hand out and Carolina grasped it. Washington helped her to her feet.
"Yes, I am. But Washington? Do you think promises made to memories should be kept?"
Washington pondered the question for a moment.
"Was it important?" Washington asked after a beat.
"Yes." Carolina responded immediately.
"Then you have your answer."
Washington pushed the dark grey and yellow helmet back down onto his head and turned to leave. After a few moments, Carolina walked with him, matching his pace. She felt comfortable with the silence the two friends shared as they walked onward toward the familiar sounds of bullets and explosions.
"Goodbye New York." Carolina whispered as she cradled her rifle.
And if Washington heard her sentimental farewell, he had the class not to show it.