You know what day it is! Huge, huge thank you to everyone reading and reviewing because it truly means a lot to know people are enjoying this misadventure. As always, thank you to Minaethiel and BrambleStar14 for their beta reading to make this story the best it can be.


A New Normal

Written by TunelessLyric

"And while you're outside looking in

Describing what you see

Remember what you're staring at is me"

-Stone Sour, 'Through Glass'

They left the ONI facility together. The short woman slotted into the file at the end, walking next to Crosshair as Harper led them back to the surface. She watched the backs of their heads bob with every stride. The swaggering walk of fighters drunk on victory. The winning high she had felt so often. Guess the emotions were the same on this side of the fence.

Nobody said anything, leaving Harper's welcome hanging in the air around them. Not commenting on the efficient kills left where they lay in the halls. In the entrance. As they had from the start, Phoenix didn't question her presence. Didn't act unbalanced. Maybe they were just used to her trailing along at a distance. Maybe they had been waiting for her to close the gap.

The silence held the entire Pelican ride as they climbed into the troop bay and settled into the seats. As they took off and left the atmosphere. Tantalus dwindled in their exhaust.

But their new member felt, for the first time since the eight of them had come together, lighter. The wrong hadn't been righted, and it might never be, but at least it had been answered for. She owed a life to Orange and a body to her grave. At least those debts had been settled.

That night, when they gathered in the small mess hall aboard the frigate Harper had commandeered for this outing, she sat between Aaron and Phil.

Lucas, who had been on course to take that spot, didn't miss a beat. He simply seated himself across from her instead, offering a quick and conspiratorial wink.

"Blizzard?" Aaron's eyebrows lifted as he looked at her.

She shrugged. "When was the last time anyone told Harper no?"

Her first words to anyone on the team other than Lucas and Harper himself in weeks. It had gotten to the point that she had begun forgetting what her voice even sounded like. Every word was like a brick on her chest before, a cost that hadn't been lifted until Mars stopped breathing.

"Oh, god, nobody tells him no," laughed Aaron. "Not when he's serious about something."

"I like it. It suits you," said Phil. He nodded towards her and paused to take a bite of his meal. "Matches the eyes."

"'The eyes'? What is she, some sort of museum exhibit?" the redhead asked, poking the team second behind Hannah's back.

"She speaks for herself." Her tone chilled the air around them.

"Brrr!" Lucas shivered, hugging himself.

Aaron, who seemed to use any excuse to throw food, lobbed a hard roll at the Lucas, who deflected it, with the unfortunate consequence of banking it onto Geist's plate. His head slowly rose to pin the offenders with a look. He delicately plucked the roll from his food and threw it at Aaron's forehead.

"My point," said the redhead, rubbing the spot his bread hit, "was something along the lines of finally breaking tradition. And I don't mean that you're a woman, but isn't that a welcome sight after all these idiots for how many years."

"Because that wasn't sexist," Mike snarked before anyone else had the chance to even open their mouth.

Several more rolls bounced off Aaron as all these idiots reacted.

And Hannah found herself firing her own into his shoulder.

"Smooth as ever, Paul," snickered Lucas.

"Mate, you don't get to talk. I'm amazed she hasn't laughed you out of the room yet." Aaron seemed none the worse for wear, despite having just been a victim of a bombing run.

"I'm getting better!" the engineer whined. "But I'd never go after one of our own."

"That's a low blow," said Phil, tone mild and eyes dancing.

Certainly one that brushed up against a sensitive topic if the expression on Aaron's face was any indication.

"If he climbs over the table to choke you, I'm not going to stop him," said Hannah. She was familiar with Phoenix's antics at this point, even though she had been nothing more than a detached observer before.

Lucas held his hands up. "He started it, I'm just defending you, but sure, take his side."

"Whose side am I taking?" Shaw joined them at the table, taking everything in with a swift glance. "Aaron, mate, you've got crumbs in your hair. New look?"

Hannah turned to him, about to say something about the friendly fire, but stopped herself. Jason had made it crystal clear he was not impressed by her presence. All the rest of the team had accepted her. Welcomed and included her. But the one person she had initially expected to treat her warmly did everything he could to keep that buffer between them.

Their eyes met for a second. His hardened with dislike. She felt her good mood shatter. Turning back to her food, she focused on eating instead of the continuing conversation.

Beneath the table, Phil's knee brushed hers. He didn't pause in his explanation of using Aaron for impromptu target practice, but he hadn't forgotten her. Hadn't missed her checking out of the group again.

She returned the bare touch. None of the others interrupted her quiet, respecting the wish to withdraw.

For the rest of the trip back to Byzantium, Hannah did her best to avoid Jason. It wasn't as difficult as she thought it might have been. Her time was taken up with conversations with Lucas about her remaining variable. With being invited to pair up with Mike when they all met in the tiny weight room. With taking time away from the team to recharge her batteries.

She still didn't sleep soundly. But at least the nightmares were a little more distant. Less raw at the edges. Sometimes she gave up on lying in bed and staring into the darkness, unable to be lulled by the hum of life through the ship's systems. Sometimes she walked the narrow halls, passing a restless Phoenix on his way to one place or another for a midnight snack or a late run on the treadmill.

It took about a week to make the journey back home. Back to the verdant valley and her obsidian headstone.

It was weird to think of it that way. That URF base was the place she would stay for the foreseeable future. But it was. When they put their feet back on solid ground, she was comfortable. Comforted by the sight of the familiar walls.

Her first stop was the armoury. She wanted to turn in her weapons and restock her supplies. And though she had wiped the blood from her armour, she still thought it needed a little caring for. Besides, there was the question of the nameless locker watching her from across the room. She knew what would be written across the smooth metal. It was simply a question of how. Where.

The search for an answer brought her to Lucas' workshop.

"Hello?" he said at the sound of her entry.

Hannah scanned the room, the disorganized and chaotic mess. She knew where his voice had originated. But she couldn't find him. "It's me," she answered. "Where are you?"

A hand shot up between stacks of scrap parts. "What do you need?"

"I have an arts and crafts project," she explained. Then she told him about her ideas.

So that was how Hannah Steele ended up surrounded by wet brushes and smeared with black and icy blue paint several hours later. Harper had dropped by to inspect her progress, nosy as ever. She hadn't offered an explanation. Actually, she didn't remember even acknowledging his presence. And Mike wandered in, collecting a few weapons and some ammo on his way to the shooting range with Phil. Both nodded their approval before leaving her to her work.

Her hands were cramped and her neck sore from bending over her armour for so long, but as she surveyed the results, it was worth it. And on the locker—her locker—the name Blizzard gleamed on the door, casting a shadow with every letter.

She collected a pistol and headed to the firing range to see if Mike and Phil were still practising there. As it turned out, they were. In the time it had taken her to finish her painting, Lucas and Jason had joined them. Hannah's eyes skimmed over the familiar shoulders as they braced against his SMG's kick. For a second, her path led to him. Then she caught a flicker of blue as he sought out the eyes he felt on him. Looking away quickly, she adjusted her direction and instead got set up on the other side of Phil.

Everyone present had observed that correction, she was sure of it. Still, she went through the motions without hesitation. It wasn't worth comparing her spreads to anyone else's. A marksman she would never be. Much like the fact that she would never find herself besting the trio of close quarters specialists on the team. She had always tended more towards average at most disciplines.

It simply wasn't a concern when there was already someone the best at everything on the team. She was fine playing second, or even fourth, fiddle. Hannah had always made up for it with sheer stubbornness in the face of failure.

After all, in her staring contest with death, she hadn't blinked.

"So when are we going to get the grand unveiling?" Phil asked when they were both reloading their weapons.

She shrugged, focusing on ensuring each round was properly placed in the next magazine so she could have a moment to respond. "I didn't realize you were all expecting one," she hedged.

"It's been a while since we had someone new around. We're all pretty excited to see what you came up with." He waited until she looked up from her inspection to shoot a glance down the lanes meaningfully. "All of us."

Hannah had to snort. "I'm sorry that it'll be severely underwhelming. You got a sneak peak, you know what it is."

He winked. "But the betting pool is still open. I'm really hoping to make five credits on this."

That was bait and she knew it. Still, she went for it. "Do I even want to know what the options are?"

"Well, there was supposed to be one for your name, but Ian sprang it on all of us suddenly. We'd only been in early brainstorming stages. None of us really knew if you'd even be joining us," he explained. "You're hard to read, Hannah, and I know you like it that way."

She didn't know what to say to that. She had thought they'd spent the last weeks evaluating her. Analyzing her every move. "You didn't tell me what you're all hoping to see."

Apparently they had been respecting her privacy.

"Aaron doesn't have much to go on. He's thinking some sort of spiralling wind lines with big storm clouds. You want fire? You ask him. I don't think he'd even seen snow until we got posted to our first ice world. Mike's got money and is swearing up and down you've got a night sky theme going on, you know, constellations and stuff. Oddly enough, Jason's in on that, too."

That gave Hannah pause. He couldn't think… Right?

"Lucas thinks you've gone for a set of eyes. If you want to see a snowstorm, you should look in the mirror sometimes." Phil laughed at the indignant expression on her face. "You take that up with him, not me. Some clever pun on the eye of a storm, or something."

"I'm not going to confirm or deny, but that is a convoluted pun."

"That's Lucas for you." He leaned on the partition between their lanes, settling in for the conversation. "Geist, and you're not going to believe this, thinks you're just going to paint it all black with white trim. Shocker there is that he admitted maybe you'll go with blue. Harper, on the other hand, has tapped into his inner fashion designer. You need to strap yourself in here. I believe the words he used were 'a tornado of snow'. I don't even know what that means, but I'm pretty sure you'd still be painting a month of Sundays from now if that was the case."

She tried to picture it, a hazy impression of a cone of different greys and white wrapping around the torso. Definitely too much work. That was the one she felt like vetoing, damn the consequences of skewing the pool.

"And I myself think you've gone half and half with black and white. Some flakey dots of each where they meet for a smooth transition."

"Well," she said slowly, "those are all certainly options."

"So are we getting the fashion show tonight?" Lucas poked his head out to join the conversation.

Even Mike tore his attention from his target long enough to look hopeful.

Jason kept firing, his rate slowing as he listened without appearing to.

Hannah made a rough estimate of how long her suit would need to dry. "Not going to be much of a show," she said, "but probably."

The confirmation earned a series of excited grins. Phil said, "Perfect, we're doing another camping outing tonight to celebrate your official joining. We're meeting you outside at the front door. Make your grand entrance whenever you're ready. We'll leave thirty before you so you don't ruin the surprise before we all clear out."

Oh. It was stupid, but nerves fluttered in her stomach at the thought. At being a public spectacle. The weird ceremony with Mars' corpse as witness had been more than enough for her. She opened her mouth to say so.

Mike held up a hand before she could speak. "Celebrate settling the score with Mars. Let us have one excuse to throw you a welcoming party. Trust me, you're not getting out of a night under the stars. I had to talk everyone else down from a nightclub because it wasn't your style."

It was an effort not to look over at Shaw, still determined to doggedly fire at his target with the conversation absorbing the rest of them. While the club didn't sound appealing for tonight, she wouldn't have minded getting to go out and forget her many troubles for a few hours.

She froze at the thought. The last time she had gone out for a night of dancing and drinking had been before. It was an unbalancing realization.

Her life was going on. Moving forward. Theirs wouldn't. That would forever be their last night out together.

Jaw clenched, she turned back to the pistol lying on her counter. A focus. That's what she needed to take her mind off of that line of thinking. She wasn't leaving them behind. She wasn't. All of them, Dom and White and Pascal and Theresa, would want her to find a purpose. To be happy.

Not guilty.

Hannah ran magazine after magazine through her magnum. Until her arms ached from holding them in a ready firing position. Until her ears were sore from adjusting her ear pro. She knew she was pushing through the discomfort for punishment. She knew—that was the crazy thing. The signs were so recognizable, so textbook characteristic. Didn't stop the guilt from overwhelming her sometimes. Usually when she least expected it to.

As she fired, the guys set their weapons down and chatted while they stripped and cleaned the weapons. She wouldn't have joined even if she wasn't trying to lose herself in the monotony and comfort of mechanically shooting over and over. There was a dividing line. On one side, their new teammate who was still working through a lot of heavy shit. On the other, Jason, their long-time best friend. She didn't want to step on his toes. He'd been here before and didn't need to feel excluded just because she was in the room.

Waiting until they trailed out to head for the mess hall, Hannah finally lowered her magnum. She sat against the wall and took her time dismantling it. Cleaning it until it barely had a fleck of dust. The team was going to spend the entire night in each other's presence. The least she could do was take some time to herself to enjoy the silence before settling the armour pool.

Phoenix's meal was well underway by the time she took her usual spot at their table. Just in time for a thoroughly comprehensive lecture from Lucas on the merits of proper lug nut tightening, Hannah almost wished she had spent a little longer in her solitude.

Still, it was a good excuse to not say much to any of her teammates as they ate. And it was a welcome relief when Harper got to his feet and literally waved as if he was herding cats.

"Shoo," he ordered, waving again.

"I could have had a normal CO who spoke like an adult," grumbled Aaron. "Could have had a normal human who used real orders when sending us to gear up. But no. Here I am. Let that be a lesson to you all. Don't join ONI, kids."

"Little late on that advice, Paul. You tried." Jason gave him a shove. "You're right in the way, mate."

Geist steered the redhead out by the shoulder while Lucas poked Jason in the back until he moved out of the way, too.

"See you out front, Blizzard," said Harper, practically dancing out of the room behind the others.

Since it wasn't all that long after she had even sat down to eat, Hannah found her half-hour wait melting before her eyes. Actually, she had to eat fairly quickly if she was going to get to the armoury, get her equipment together and on, and meet the rest of Phoenix without making them wait.

As she hurried through the base, and then through the motions of prepping for an op, an odd feeling crept over her. Belonging. Hannah knew these halls. She knew the faces of the Innies she passed. Was getting used to the awed and nervous looks they flashed her as they recognized her. She liked most of her new teammates, with the exception of Jason, who reminded her of a much different life, and Harper. And hating Harper was so deeply ingrained in who she was now, that may never change.

Liking a commander didn't factor in. All she had to do was obey him in combat.

But Jason, as she had seen in the firing range earlier, was becoming a problem. It caused tension between the others. She caused that tension.

It was something to think about later, she decided, pulling on her armour with practiced movements. Her body knew how to do this in her sleep. Practically had on more than one occasion.

With a final glance into her pack to ensure she had everything she would need, Hannah Steele put her helmet on and went to join the others outside.