We made it through another week! Welcome back to BC and Hannah's shenanigans. Let's see what she's been up to lately.

Thank you to BrambleStar14 and Minaethiel for beta reading, as always.

Frozen Moments

Written by TunelessLyric

'Cause I'm carrying the weight of two souls on my back and I'm wearing thin

How am I used to this?

How did you even love me anyways?

-Thousand Below, 'No Place Like You'

Hannah was exhausted when the Pelican touched down. Phil had taken them closer to the centre of the system for a week of ducking and dodging UNSC forces at nearly a dozen factories. When asked, he shrugged and said, "General's got some manufacturing to do, I guess."

Point being, she needed a shower, a hot meal, eight hours of sleep uninterrupted by automatic gunfire. Not necessarily in that order.

It was an effort to not let her boots drag in the dirt as she made her way into the base, Aaron and Lucas half a step behind with Geist and Mike trailing after. Phil split off to debrief with Harper, who had only gotten back from a solo jaunt about an hour before they had.

"Last one to the shower ain't a real soldier," said Aaron, tone bright despite the fatigue weighing him down.

Lucas elbowed him into the wall and Geist righted him by grabbing the collar of his shirt and lifting his feet from the floor.

"I hate you all," Aaron griped.

Even Geist mustered a laugh at that. Though Hannah was forced to stifle a yawn in order to join in. Still, everyone made it safely to the bathroom where she had to turn into the other section or else risk seeing far more of her teammates than she really needed to.

Hot water poured over her head, soothing muscles that she'd stopped feeling sometime two days ago. Too much running. Too many stairs. Far too long crouched behind a storage unit in a warehouse while Geist combed through inventory.

And soap on her scalp. God, that was just heaven after being trapped in her helmet twenty-four hours a day, sleeping with one eye open despite the posted sentry.

She dressed quickly, making a stop at her quarters to find her data pad. The report could wait until after she got some sleep, but she wanted to check for messages from her father or Jason. As it happened, she had one from each. Dismissing Irons for now, Hannah opened the email from Jason first.

Guess I should have told you sooner, but honestly we didn't want you to worry. Or any of the guys to know yet. It was sorta nice knowing you had your head on straight for a few more months. Truth is, Jason and I re-enlisted. Since Phoenix is in the ass-end of nowhere, we figured it would be pretty safe, all things considered. Just… I don't know. Got too restless. Stuck in a loop with nothing changing while everyone we knew was dead or in the field.

Except Harper somehow found out and was waiting for us. He killed the rest of the squad and separated me from Jason. There were Innies everywhere, and I kept thinking how glad I was that you weren't there. I don't know what we would have done.

I don't know exactly what happened. I just know Harper had Jason cornered. The others knocked me out and I thought for sure I'd be waking up in that damn cell again. Instead, I woke up to screaming. I can only guess what happened. Jason's getting better. He's at least healing. Not sure about "better" yet.

Physically, they're saying it'll be close to a full recovery, but his face… Hannah, it doesn't look good. He's lucky, considering he lost a fight to Ian Harper, but he got burned bad. Gets to keep his eye, so that's something. I'll let you know more as soon as there's an update.

She forced herself still. Made herself tap out a brief response, unwilling to put the fury on Mark. Held it in, like trapping lightning in a bottle.

Glad you're both alive. Stay safe and let Jason know I miss you both. Tell him I'll visit when I can.

Hannah hesitated on her room's threshold, looking over her shoulder at the pistol and combat knife lying on the dresser. Rolling her hands into white-knuckled fists, she stalked from the room. A chill ran under her skin, trailing icy fingers down her back. Needing something to do, she braided her hair out of her eyes and hunted through the base.

The barracks were a bust, as was the armoury. Everyone's lockers were neatly shut, fresh coats of paint vibrant in the evening sun. Even the two empty ones.

She heard familiar voices in one of the briefing rooms. They were still going over their respective missions. Good. Hannah slammed the door open, steel protesting as it rocked on its track.

Phil turned, mouth open and hands held out as he started to placate.

"Blake, get the fuck out of the way or I swear to god I'll deal with you next," she growled, cutting him off.

To his credit, the team second glanced back at Harper before shaking his head. "Hannah," he tried again, "I know you're angry—"

She spread her hands, showing both of them she wasn't armed.

None of them needed weapons to kill people.

"No, I'm not angry."

Harper said nothing, watching her with glittering green eyes over Phil's shoulder. Leaving the buffer between them without complaint.

"I'll handle this." The weight in his voice sounded like a promise. Kind brown eyes darted over her face, searching for a weak point to crack into her frigid armour.

"You can take the night off, man. You've done enough standing there between Ian and me, but not today. I'm not flawless when it comes to Jason, but at least I never picked up a knife. At least I never drew a gun on him. At least I never burned him." She advanced slowly, holding her hands before her, shifting attention from Phil to Harper.

"Yeah, I know, you're a saint," said Harper, sidestepping Phil and rolling his eyes. "Good on you for your restraint all the times you humiliated him. And you did hit him on a few occasions."

"Shut the fuck up, Ian. They are not even close to the same thing," she snapped. Another step, another promise.

"Both of you, stop. Sit down and talk like adults." Phil's voice strained as he once again placed himself between his leader and his teammate.

"What did he tell you? That he almost blinded Jason? That he could have killed him?" she demanded.

"You need to relax, Bliz. This is unlike you. As if I'd ever do anything permanent to Jay," said Harper, a hand going to his chest as if he'd been wounded by the thought.

"I'm sure he'd agree if he was here right now instead of having the permanent burns treated," she said coldly. Her hands were shaking, she realized, dropping them to her side again.

"Maybe he'll remember who he is."

Hannah laughed harshly. "I can't believe you. You're the single most selfish person I've ever had the bad luck to meet, Ian. I'd say I hope you can live with yourself knowing he'll hate you for this, but to be completely honest, I don't give a fuck what happens to you."

She spun on a heel, swallowing down the rage coating her mouth and throat.

"Hannah, I want—"

"Respectfully, Phil, shut up before I change my mind."

Both of them held their silence as she stormed from the room.

Weeks slid by, filled with more raids on manufacturing plants. They spiralled out, hitting a new system, a new company, every time. Still, the information on Allen's new factory never came.

Hey,

They let me out of the hospital. Mark's on leave with me for a month or so. I miss you. Stay safe for me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

She woke to erratic pounding on the door, each solid thump echoing through the room.

"Get up, Hannah! Come on, get out here!" shouted Aaron, far too excited for so early in the morning.

Groaning, she rolled, one hand groping through air in search of a boot. "It's our day off, Aaron, get fucked," she shouted back. She felt leather and hooked a finger into it, sending it flying at the door.

"Well, Geist, you heard the lady. Let's get to it."

There was some muffled French that she couldn't catch. Probably best to not ask Geist to speak up.

"Hannah, up and at 'em, breakfast time!" Now Lucas was taking a turn at coaxing her from her warm bed. There were two things that she needed on this planet: sleep and food. Right now, it was a toss up which she wanted more.

The other boot slammed into the metal door. "Get lost, Thorpe. I don't need you encouraging Aaron."

The knocking redoubled, at least three fists pounding on the door.

She was out of bed now, dragging her fatigues on. "I'm going to give you all five seconds to start running before I kill you. Five."

There was a moment of silence, abrupt against the racket before she'd resorted to the threat.

"Four."

She rescued her boots, lacing them in record time to the patter of feet retreating down the hall.

"Three."

Aaron was laughing.

"Two."

Her door slid open just in time to see Lucas throw himself around the corner, on his way to the mess hall at a leisurely jog.

"One."

"I told them to let you sleep ten more minutes," said Mike, leaning on the wall near his room.

"It's fine, I'll consider myself lucky getting to sleep in an entire three minutes," she answered, consulting her watch. "What's gotten into them this morning?"

He grinned. "It's your rebirthday, Hannah."

For a long moment she stared at him. Already? How had the anniversary of Orange's last op passed her by without warning? Her hand went to the slagged metal hanging around her neck. "Oh."

"Don't worry, we're not going to drag you out to anything dramatic. Those two hellions wanted to, but Phil and I eventually convinced them to let you have a laid-back day instead. I think we all deserve that." Still grinning, he led her to the mess hall.

A couple of weeks ago it had been the team's anniversary. They'd snuck off-world to Coral for a week of fun-filled adventure that included a swim-up bar, theme park day, no less than three fireworks displays, and what Harper insisted they all refer to as "Lucas Bacon Day", wherein the engineer learned a valuable lesson about the importance of sunscreen. Hannah was pretty sure his skin was still peeling.

As she entered the narrow mess hall, Aaron lifted her from the floor. He crushed her into a strangling hug, spinning on the spot and depositing her again. "Happy rebirthday, Hannah," he said quietly. "Been a hell of a year, but we made it."

She punched him in the shoulder. "That's for the noise," she said, laughing.

He ruffled her hair enthusiastically. "That's for the grumpy face." Then he dashed away before she could retaliate.

Smoothing the mess he'd made, Hannah squeezed past the tables to drop into her usual spot between Lucas and Mike. There was still the buffer of an empty seat next to Harper, though nobody so much as glanced at it anymore.

Someone had already made a bowl of oatmeal, arranging sliced fruit into a smiling face on top. She sighed.

Lucas nudged her elbow, eyes shining. "Happy one year," he whispered, vibrating with excitement.

"Did you do this?" she asked, picking up a spoon to gesture at the bowl.

"What, you thought I'd let you stand in line and starve?"

"Thank you." She dug in to eat quickly, already looking forward to a lazy day on base.

Don't do anything stupid. I just need to know you're okay. I keep hearing reports way out… nowhere, really. I want to ask, but you wouldn't tell me. We're still off. Not sure how much longer, but Mark won't go to the store without me right now, never mind back to base.

He won't let you come visit. I know he's why you haven't come.

Lucas kidnapped her first. They sat at his workbench, chatting about nothing while he worked. She watched as screws and wires and batteries pulled together under his careful hands.

"So," he said after a while, "what's new with you?"

Hannah leaned back on her stool and laughed. "Like anything new ever happens around here. Still the UNSC-URF fight, still the Covvies. Harper and I still don't get along. What's new with you?"

He glanced up to shoot her a smile. Setting his half-completed project aside he asked, "Want to build something yourself?"

"As long as you're aware the only things I've successfully assembled are my weapons. I didn't even take woodworking in high school," she said.

"Good thing you have a good teacher now." A pause. "You helped build the base, Hannah."

"That barely counts. It's all prefab. I just put the screws in the right places and lifted the heavy things."

They traded seats and he pulled out fresh materials. Nails of varying sizes, pieces of scrap metal, a few washers and other assorted things that looked vaguely familiar were laid out in neat piles. It was a wonder, given the usual state of disarray in the workshop.

"What are we making?" she asked, eyeing the growing pile and feeling daunted.

Lucas only grinned and handed her a pair of safety glasses. "You'll see."

Luckily, between his lengthy résumé of building various inventions and reverse-engineering ODST equipment, he proved to be a capable teacher. More to their advantage, Hannah at least had a few weeks' experience with power drills and saws now. Her eye for detail from analyzing choreography didn't hurt any.

They cut metal down. Sanded wood. Soldered and screwed pieces together. Hardly the most intricate work, but at least it wasn't the ugliest thing she had ever seen as they measured thin chain to finish the construction process.

"Moment of truth. Give it a wind and we'll see if we got all the fiddly bits in right," he invited, sitting back to survey their handiwork.

Holding her breath, Hannah lifted the delicate box and wound the mechanism. Catching Lucas' eye, she opened the lid. Soft sounds tinkled from it, clear as could be in the chaotic shop. She let out her tense breath, a laugh slipping on its heels.

"Nice job." He held out a fist.

She knocked her own into it, sitting back and watching the small barrel spin, the spokes catching each slender strip of metal to plunk out every note.

"All right, I'm convinced you can do actual magic now."

"I didn't even do the work. I just advised this time," he argued.

They let the music box play out its song, slowly coming to a stop mid-phrase. Hannah stood, pulling Lucas into a hug. "Thank you, it's beautiful."

He patted her back. "I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

Laughing, she ran a finger along the edge of the lid. "I'll be back to paint you later."

I'm glad they're all doing good. I… it's wrong to miss them so much, right? Whatever else happened, they're still… were still my best mates. Tell them I'm all right. I'm better.

Mark's talking to some brass about a fresh start somewhere else. Away from the usual, he says. Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be with him the entire time.

Wish I could hug you.

The firing range was quiet when she let herself in. The weapons locker was already open, so Hannah helped herself to a battle rifle and stuffed a plug into one ear.

Mike raised his hand from the middle lane, leaving his half-assembled DMR on the counter.

"You know this is hardly a fair competition," she said. "Even if you aren't using a sniper rifle."

"What if it's just a couple of friends running the rounds through weapons we haven't touched since Basic? It'll be good for us both," he answered.

Her reply was a snort before she cracked open a fresh box of ammunition and started loading magazines. As if that would make it a fair challenge. Mike could outshoot her in his sleep and that's all there was to it.

The silence that fell was comfortable, easy. No weight hung in the air as they finished preparing their guns. The light above her flicked to red and the butt of the rifle tucked to her shoulder. She breathed slowly, letting everything except the target downrange fall away. Bracing herself for the recoil, Hannah squeezed the trigger steadily. She couldn't hide the satisfied smile. A marksman she would never be, but this was more than enough.

When the magazine was empty, Hannah set the gun down to wait. Mike was taking his sweet time with his own target. At length, the light overhead turned green again and she loosened her ear plugs.

"Well? Let's see how we did," he said, pressing a button to bring the targets zooming to them.

Unsurprisingly, Hannah's rounds had been a little off, still landing near enough to the bullseye to not pack her back to bootcamp. But it served as a reminder that she was definitely not a finesse fighter. Which was fine, since Mike's bullseye had been completely shredded by his shots.

"Best five out of nine?" he asked with a wink.

She finished reloading the battle rifle and pushed the magazine home with a hefty clack. "You're on, Baxter."

He chuckled, screwing his ear plug back in.

Aaron stood in the centre of the gym, mouth hanging open, watching Hannah let herself in.

"What?"

He flapped a hand in her direction. "What've you got on and why's it look like that?"

She laughed, striking a pose with one heavy-soled boot kicked out. The black hoodie was only half-zipped, hanging off one shoulder to show off the ripped grey tank top underneath.

"Yeah, that. Damn, is this why Jason fell all over himself when he saw you?" he shook his head.

"It's style, Paul, look it up. You knew what you were signing up for when you said you wanted a dance lesson." She marched to the speakers so she could plug her data pad in and start up an energetic playlist. "Get warmed up and we'll start."

It felt good to lose herself in the familiar beat and stop being a soldier for a while. There was no war, no expectation, nothing. Nothing but the way the music made her feel. The way it took hold and carried her, promised it would all pass on without any reason to hurry. She would not sink or fall or collapse-not when it was there to help.

After a couple songs, she turned to Aaron. There weren't any mirrors in here, but she could make do. She showed him how to stand, prodding him in the stomach and back until his posture was correct.

"Jeez, didn't know it was supposed to hurt to stand up straight," he grumbled with an exaggerated wince.

"You've never done a single straight thing in your life, Paul. Stop whining." But she was laughing, facing him and adopting the same pose without thinking. "Now just do what I do."

They had to start slow. Hannah's teaching was rusty and it had been some time since she'd had a beginner class, but it was easier to laugh and lay out a few counts of choreography with Aaron. He followed along admirably, since the choppy style fit his personality better than any other genre.

"What did we just do?" she asked, running over the last few phrases, arms approximating gestures as she thought.

Aaron demonstrated, feeling out the steps without hesitation. To his credit, he had it almost correct.

"Other foot first," she said instantly, going through it slowly one more time. "Want to add the music next?"

"It's gonna be faster, yeah?"

In answer, she pressed play on the data pad and counted herself in. It was much faster than their walking through as she choreographed. Faster than they had practised. And Aaron simply watched, nodding to the rhythm.

She hit pause. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah!" He grinned, completely prepared to meet the challenge.

Hannah restarted the song, backing away from the speaker so she could stand in front, offering a template for him to follow. She counted them in.

"Like a thief in the night," she sang, feeling him behind her like a shadow, "armed with their pretty lies—"

When the chorus ended, she jogged to the speaker to pause the song again. "How'd that go?"

Aaron's mouth was set with determination. "Again. I almost had it."

She smiled, rewinding to reduce the wait time for their part. "Good. Show me." She sat, helping him count to the proper phrase to start. For someone who was more of a danger on the dance floor than anything else, he did a decent job keeping the flailing to a minimum, focused on the exact, defined movements she had taught him.

The music cut, leaving Aaron short of breath. He lifted his hands, beckoning.

"Wrong foot," she scolded, getting back up to show him one more time, slowing the steps down dramatically. "One. Two. Three. Four." One step for every count.

They practiced it over and over until he had it down.

"Great. Here comes the next part."

"You're trying to kill me. You really are."

But they were both smiling.

Still nothing on the possible transfer. Still no visit with you. I feel like everything's working against us, like it always has and we somehow only fooled it for a little while. I'd give a hell of a lot to see you face to face today, but I know we can't rely on that when we have to bounce signals a dozen times. Point is, I miss you like crazy and I know you do, too, so what's the harm in thinking about it sometimes?

Aaron had to duck past Phil on his way out of the gym. Hannah unzipped her hoodie and kicked off her boots, sweeping sweaty hair off her face impatiently. "Don't just lurk, Blake, come in."

"Still angry, yeah?" he asked, moving deeper into the room so they didn't have to shout across the empty space.

"I don't think even you'd be ready to hold hands and sing around a campfire if Harper'd done anything like that to someone you cared about," she said slowly, clearly, as if explaining a particularly difficult concept.

Phil settled himself on the floor, inviting her to join him with a wave. "No. I wouldn't, so I get why you're not ready to. Has there been any news?"

"Not yet. You'll be glad to know Mark's fine, thanks for asking." She dropped down beside him and crossed her legs.

He nodded, planting his weight on his hands to lean back and stare up at the open rafters far above. "I can't get over how much you've changed, Hannah. From the ODST who thought she was alone in the universe to one of my closest friends. You used to be so angry all the time, and always determined to keep all of us on the outside. Now look at you. You've stayed away from Harper even though all you wanted was to smash his face into the floor. I'm impressed."

"Don't give me credit for that. I still want to step on his neck," she said, entirely serious. Even time and regular updates from the Shaws couldn't erase that.

"But you aren't looking for him to act on it." His head tipped, meeting her stare sideways. "And the next time you two are alone together, you still won't."

"How do you know that?" she asked, resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Sometimes she swore they all had far too much trust in her even after all they had been through in the past year.

"Because neither you nor him will let the rest of us down. We're more than just a team, we're a family. You know that. Even when you leave, we'll still be family. We'll still look out for each other," he explained simply.

Hannah let out a sigh she had been holding in all day. "Sure. I won't, because I know what it means to you."

Phil offered a smile. "Happy rebirthday, Hannah. I'm glad you're here. So is everyone else."

"Except Harper," she said wryly.

"I think in his way, even he's happy to have you around."

"If you mean he's happy that I'm here with him instead of with Jason…"

"Sort of, but also here as a Phoenix he can rely on in a fight," he corrected.

"Thanks, Phil. I appreciate that."

And she did.

After the evening meal, Hannah found herself in the rec room with Geist. She was entirely engrossed in one of his novels. He had headphones on, paying rapt attention to the vid series she'd recommended. It was a light silence, one that didn't suffocate. One that didn't intrude on her thoughts or nag for attention. It was comfortable. She didn't have to be anyone. She didn't have to be the one to break the quiet stretching between minutes. It was simple.

Geist was always simple.

Harper cleared his throat a couple of times before he finally spoke. "This is as good as it gets, you know."

They sat next to each other on the roof, watching the clouds creep over the plain as the sun sank beyond the horizon. The scrubby grey grass caught each dying ray, turning orange and gold and scarlet. Once a day, the dead land came alive like this.

"I know." She stretched her arms overhead. "You don't have to pretend you like me just because I decided to join the team a year ago."

"I'm not pretending," he said hotly.

A blonde eyebrow lifted as she watched him fidget.

"You're one of us and even I've noticed your best behaviour since the move. I…" he trailed off, glancing quickly to her face before focusing on the burning plain surrounding them. "There's something about you that just works here. Your drive, your training, your devotion to the others. All of the others. We don't have to like each other for me to be able to acknowledge a good soldier. Orange really was something. They have my respect for what they did to the Covvies."

Now Hannah had to lift both eyebrows, hardly believing what was coming out of Harper's mouth. She swallowed back a sarcastic comment, aware if she made one swipe, he'd clam up and probably wouldn't open this conversation again.

Or he'd hit her.

He picked at a hangnail for a moment, his entire attention riveted until it pulled free. "You get the boys. Took you some time to figure it all out, but here you are. Can't say I'm exactly glad you're here, but you do belong with us. There's a part of you that was born for this. I wanted you to know that."

"No threats, Ian?" she asked at last, resisting the urge to rub her scarred forearm.

"Not today. Don't get used to it. And don't get used to the downtime either." He pulled a data pad from his pocket and tapped around for a minute before passing it to her. Passing, not throwing or tossing or dropping it in her lap like her touch could give him frostbite.

Hannah stared down at the report, reading it through carefully. "When did this come in?"

"This morning. I've been in meetings with the brass all damn day." He shrugged, falling still as he tracked the red-stained clouds.

"Do the others know?" she asked, scrolling to the top of the page to skim through again, making sure she had the details filed away.

"Just Phil so far. Figured this was something that could wait until their day off was over. Sergeant," he added after a moment's pause.

That made her head snap up, caught in his gaze. "Why?"

"Couldn't think of anything else to get you, Steele."

"None of you had to give me anything. You all know that." She handed his data pad back, leaning on her hands planted on the flat cement roof. "When do we leave?"

"Pack your gear tonight. Frigate's out at first light. I'd tell you to get a good sleep, but we both know you never broke that habit."

She hummed a vague affirmative. After several minutes of silence she said, "Lucas'll be beside himself at the thought of new gear."

Harper snorted. "Like you're not already thinking about a hardware update."

Her lips twitched. Her armour had been through several wars now. It was a miracle her HUD still booted up every time she put her helmet on. A miracle named Lucas. "You caught me," she said. With a nod at the data pad she added, "Send me what you have on this new outfit. I haven't heard much about them, but if Allen's got this sort of equipment in production to compete, I want to know the intel inside out."

He tapped around the screen some more, drawing one leg up to his chest. "They're some ONI thing." The words came out sour.

"Maybe I'd better talk to Irons."

Harper nodded absently, fingers flying over the screen as he collected relevant info. He looked as if he was weighing something, deciding what else he was willing to trade away for assistance. In the end, he set the data pad aside wordlessly. Went back to staring out at the nothing stretching off in every direction.

The colours started to bleed out of the day, leaving only the dark gathering as night closed in. Hannah got to her feet, wondering if there was anything worth saying. In the end, she just walked away. Left Harper to his thoughts. This was as good as it would ever get.

She climbed into her bed, her own data pad in hand. There was a hefty pile of reading for her to do, starting with after-action reports and working backwards as far as anything Lucas could trace. There wasn't enough to go on, which was, plain and simple, disappointing. Chewing on her lip, Hannah sent a message to her father asking about the subject. Anything he could offer now would be useful. There wasn't even a personnel list available.

Tomorrow was shaping up to be an interesting day at any rate. Time to go meet these Freelancers.