Author's Note: To the guest who left a review, I do recognize that Troy Denning desperately wants me to ship Fred with his OC Veta Lopis. Unfortunately, I don't. Because Fred/Kelly is the best option.

October 28, 2558 (Military Calendar) /

Shield World Genesis, Nomos System

"Listen to yourself! Stand down, Cortana. Come home with us. It's not too late to stop this."

Kelly could hear the anguish in John's voice. Though he might have said it as though it were an order, everyone present knew him well enough to understand what it truly was - a desperate plea. Hidden beneath his usual stoicism was a vulnerability Kelly hadn't seen her oldest friend display since they were children.

Which is how she knew that the answer must have cut him to his core. "Stop?" the thing wearing John's companion's face asked, slowly stepping toward him. "No, John. This is too important to stop."

The facility around them came to life. Metallic clangs reverberated through the dimly lit alien structure as large pieces of machinery shifted and clicked into new formations. Kelly's eyes darted of their own accord, tracking each sound and movement and cataloging whether or not it represented a threat. She spared just a moment to glance at her team. John, standing before the apparition. Linda covering John's back and ready to come to his defense at a moment's notice. Fred, looking back at her.

The other Spartan raised his left thumb and moved his hand in a small circle, tilting his head slightly to one side. Are you okay?

Kelly nodded once, though the fact was that she was anything but. But Fred knew that. The question was more to let her know he had her back. Just like he always did. Her whole life she knew that as long as she and Fred had each other, they would be fine.

"What are you -" John began, but his voice was cut off when some kind of stasis field enveloped each of the Spartans.

Panic surged through Kelly's system. John and the monster in front of him were still talking, but she didn't bother trying to focus on it. She strained every muscle in her body, but couldn't find the strength to break free. Again, her gaze shifted to Fred.

He was fighting. Pushing. Putting all of his considerable strength into an escape attempt. But it was futile. There was no escaping this. Instead, he forced his left hand out. Reached for her. Kelly reached back. She had to reach him.

If they had each other, they would be fine.

But it was no use.

She barely registered the tearful farewell - "Goodbye, John." Then she was being sucked backwards. Pulled into a pit as dark as pitch. Dragged down to the claustrophobic depths of Hell, for all she knew. Still, she strained. Desperately reaching for the hand that was impossibly far away.

"Kelly," he grunted, the strain with which he was pushing himself evident in his voice, "hang on. Just hang on." With every word he drew further away from her. Sucked further into the blackness. "Kelly," he said again, his voice growing fainter and yet more desperate. "Kelly."

Blackness was all she could see now. Enveloping her. Cloying at her every sense. Smothering her. She ground her teeth to keep herself from screaming, in rage just as much as in terror. She couldn't protect her team. She couldn't protect herself. She couldn't protect him. She was lost, drowning in a sea of darkness that stretched on forever. Left there to die by that cursed creature that wore the face of what had once been her ally.

This was a fear such as she had never felt before. Nothing - not her abduction at the age of six, the rigors of Special Operations training from the time she was a child, or the horrors of a genocidal war waged by an enemy that was by far their better both numerically and in terms of equipment - could have possibly prepared her for this desperate, awful state. It was as though she were sucked into the vacuum of space, but she didn't even have the comfort of the stars to accompany her to her slow, painful death.

Tears wet the Spartan's face when she heard his voice once more, so far away he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. "Kelly." She squeezed her eyes shut and found herself almost wishing that he would leave her to her fate rather than torture her with his pained calls. By now, she wasn't even sure if it was him or her own mind tormenting her.

"Kelly."

"Kelly."

"Kelly!"

Kelly-087's eyes sprang open, blinking in the dim light. For an awful moment it was still real - she was still falling, spiraling into the endless black. But slowly her mind took note of her surroundings. The rough blanket stretched over her cot. The crackling fire outside. The stars that peaked through holes in the canvas of her tent.

Sanghelios. It had been two weeks since the conflict on Genesis. Two weeks since the Created rose up and conquered the galaxy over the course of a night. It would still be two more days before the Infinity could circle back and collect them, barring the reappearance of a Guardian to ward the capital ship off.

She flinched when a hand rested gently on her shoulder. "Kelly?" said a voice. It was familiar, warm. Comfortable, despite the obvious concern that rested within its deep tones.

Kelly rose to a sitting position, trying discreetly to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks as she did so. "What's up?" she yawned, doing her best to keep her voice light and chipper. "Are we moving again?"

Fred's green eyes stared back at her, almost glowing as they reflected the tiny sliver of light the fire cast through the crack in the entrance to her tent. "I heard you," he said, his voice rough with sleep. He leaned closer to her. "Was it another nightmare?"

"It was nothing," Kelly answered dismissively, waving a hand over her shoulder. "Any word from Infinity?"

"Kelly," Fred said again, his voice firm now.

In spite of herself, she flinched again. Part of her mind still felt trapped inside the oily black tar of her dream.

One look into Fred's glowing eyes and she knew that he was having none of her excuses. "I just . . ." she began, but her voice faltered partway through. "I just need to get some rest," she finally finished. She lay back down and drew the rough Sangheili blanket over herself.

Fred waited in a hesitant silence, crouched beside her cot. Finally he nodded and made to stand.

In a flash, Kelly snatched the hand on her shoulder and held tightly to it. "Don't . . . don't go," she whispered. "Please don't go."

Fred nodded slowly, but looked entirely uncomfortable as he crouched back down beside her. After a moment's silent deliberation, Kelly turned onto her side and threw the cover back, leaving room for him on her cot. With a few more awkward moments and some shuffling, the larger Spartan managed to slide onto the bed behind her and wrap his arms around her midsection.

Kelly breathed deeply, taking comfort in Fred's familiar smell and warmth. She snuggled in against him as tightly as she could and sighed gently. She nearly shivered when she felt Fred's fingers slowly run through the ends of her hair.

As comfortable as she was, and no matter how hard she tried to screw her eyelids shut, sleep would not take her. Whenever her body began to succumb to exhaustion she would be reminded of her nightmare and her body would jolt itself awake. The third time it happened she growled in frustration but was interrupted by a very unexpected sound.

At first, she felt it more than heard it - a low rumble emanating from the chest of the man behind her. Eventually it grew in volume until her ears were able to catch the sound.

Fred was humming.

He hadn't taken to music in the years following the Human-Covenant War the way she had. While she had loaded her armor with as much ancient rock music as she could muster, Fred had contented himself to smile or laugh at her whenever he caught her head bobbing along to some tune he couldn't hear. There was one artist, however, to whom he had taken a liking. It all began with a ridiculous and seemingly contradictory rock ballad from the late twentieth century, but once he learned the artist's name he decided that he would be a fan of them for the rest of his life.

The fact that he had even remembered the notes of one of these songs was enough to startle Kelly from her stupor. She listened closely as he hummed each note of the long song, and felt a grin spread across her lips. Against all odds, the slow, quiet humming was enough to finally quiet her mind.

Nestled into Fred's warm arms and listening to his gentle rendition of Meatloaf's "I'd Do Anything for Love," Kelly finally fell asleep.