A/N: Hellooooo! Welcome back everyone! We're here with another episode of intertwined insanity! These last few chapters have been difficult to write, mostly because I've tried to do the situations involved justice. Things are complicated, and it's been difficult to keep things relatively balanced. This is a chapter I've had planned for a very, very long time, and writing it was a bit surreal. But it's here, and things are about to get interesting. Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined, I always appreciate feedback, and as always, enjoy!
Chapter 32: ... Is Paved With Good Intentions
By the time I left the office, I was so tired of answering, or avoiding, questions if no one asked me anything again, I think I'd be alright with that. Everything from who I am, to what I am, my universe, what it's like, how I got here, and anything else they could imagine on the spot.
Ayo had spent the entire time skeptical, but out of everyone there, he's the person I least concerned myself with. Most of his questions were about me. If I didn't outright ignore him, I gave ONI's stock answer for anything about IIs or IIIs: 'classified'. It got to the point he actually tried to physically approach me. Despite everything, I was mentally egging him on, hoping he'd give me a reason. Nate was smart enough to know I'd probably break the man in half, so he held him back, much to the SRD leader's irritation.
You should be thanking him.
I didn't give a damn. Nate, Ayo, Shaun, the Institute- whatever. I'm here because I need their help getting back to the UNSC. That's all. Nate found his son, he has his wife's body, he doesn't need me anymore. I don't know how long it will take the eggheads here to figure out if they can send me back, but it probably won't be long enough to make any appreciable change to the Commonwealth. I still intend to help Preston with his Gunner problem, but that's only postponing the inevitable.
Did it suck? Yeah, but my duty is to the UNSC, however much they and ONI have taken from me. Between the Brotherhood and the Institute, whoever wins that fight, the Commonwealth is probably screwed. The Brotherhood will turn it into their base of operations, exploiting people and resources. I've seen it in plenty of larger insurrectionist bases. The Institute will continue treating it like a petri dish, snatching and using whoever they want, whenever they want. I've personally experienced that one.
If I had to put money on who would win, it's the Brotherhood; they've got more practical knowledge, more resources and equipment, more people, and more maneuverability. Hell, if I hadn't been here, the small recon force they sent in had more than a chance of doing the job themselves. Nate doesn't have the experience or skill to help them the way they want- they need.
Doesn't matter. I'll do whatever they need me to in return for getting me back to the UNSC and that would be that.
It's my job.
The Coursers and Synth guards were still performing a sweep, looking for any surprises before allowing the residents to return to the labs. It would take a few hours, but Li already had the technician I'd talked with and a small team up at the Molecular Relay repairing it. I guess they want to get back up and running quickly. For what, I don't know.
Hopefully they'll put a fail safe system in place this time so it isn't as easy to infiltrate the goddamn facility.
I, again, didn't have anything to do. Ayo made it clear he didn't want me involved in the interrogation of the four living Brotherhood soldiers. Fine by me. They won't get all of the information they need, hard to when you don't know what questions to ask, but I only need this place around long enough to get me back to my universe.
So I meandered my way back to the room. It had only been three days since I was here last, but ducking through the door… everything felt different. It was almost like returning to Diamond City after killing Kellogg, after remembering the Covenant attack. Things… didn't quite seem real.
A wave of fatigue hit me as I looked around the main living space: couch, coffee table, small kitchen, dining table. Everything was clean, orderly. This was normal, I'd seen this a million times, even in the poorest neighborhoods back in UNSC space. Here though?
My mind flashed back to Sanctuary. They'd kill for this to be normal living accommodations.
I shook my head. There's nothing I can do about that. The only people who have it are the Institute and they're clearly not the sharing type.
Sitting against the wall, opposite the apartment's front door, I pulled the MK-18 across my lap and allowed my eyes to drift closed. I'm here, at the Institute. This nightmare is almost over. Once it is, I can get back to doing what I do best.
And that sure as hell isn't caring.
A soft whoosh snapped me to full alert, rifle in hand, sights trained on the door as it slid open.
Nate stood in the hall, staring at me with tired eyes.
Lowering the rifle, I checked the clock in my HUD. 1845.
Huh. I'd been asleep for five hours.
The ex-soldier didn't move, but his expression grew a little less tired and a little more irritated.
Yeah, because I need this again. I leaned my head back against the wall, pointedly breaking eye contact.
But I still felt him staring at me.
"Do you ever consider being a little more cooperative?" he asked.
I didn't respond. It wouldn't go anywhere. He's here to argue- he can argue with himself.
"I just spent two and a half hours trying to convince them to help you."
Why? You already said you don't care anymore. Don't waste your breath.
"Hey!", he barked, marching over to stare down at me. "Do you think I like the sound of my own voice?"
Yes.
He kicked at my left foot. "This is what regular people call a goddamn conversation, Damon."
What the hell do you think you're doing? I met his gaze before looking from his foot, to my armored boot and back.
"Don't touch me again."
The smaller man scoffed. "Right. Of course. You have a problem, something you don't like, just threaten it into submission."
"I don't normally bother with threats." I left the rest of the statement unsaid.
"Like I said, maybe you should consider being a little more diplomatic", Nate retorted, shaking his head.
I let out a low, mocking laugh. "That is me being diplomatic."
"You know what I mean."
"Oh? This is me, Nate. I'm not diplomatic. I'm a weapon. I shoot things. You said it yourself." I cocked my head. "Or have you already forgotten this morning?"
The ex-soldier's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? You're pouting?"
Resting my head against the steel wall again, I shrugged. "You're right, aren't you? It's what you've been telling me all along, every time you've complained about me killing someone."
"Yes, I'm right. Look at what you've done since coming here. How many people would you say you've killed?"
I shrugged again. "Never kept count."
He shook his head. "Of course you didn't. 'Just another body'."
My temper flared. "I thought it was different, Nate. I thought I was doing things for a different reason. Nora wasn't just another body. I thought I did that because it meant something to you. Because she was important to you." I climbed to my feet, forcing the smaller man to step back, and leveled my voice off. "But at the end of the day, you're right: that was something I had to do to regain Shaun's trust, just like everything else I've done to get here. Maybe I thought I was doing it for some other purpose, because I wanted to. Even if that is the case though, I'm leaving, and things are going to go back to the way they were. I used everyone to get here, including you."
Nate's eyes narrowed. "That isn't-"
"Don't pretend you're any different from me though." I leaned down so we were face to face. "You used me too, someone you think is a monster. Someone who kills people because it's the easiest way to do something. You used the Brotherhood. You used Virgil. You used the Railroad. Everything you did, everyone you used, you did it to get here. The only difference is I'm doing it because I was trained to. You're doing it for a son that's already dead."
"Fuck you", he hissed.
I smiled behind my visor. It wasn't friendly. "The same way I don't get here without you, you die before you make it to Diamond City without me. You're no different from the UNSC to me; you're here, you have your son back, and since you know I'll be gone sooner or later, you're tossing me to the side, like everyone else. Just like now you're here, you'll forget about everyone else who helped us along the way." I straightened. "You don't care about anything but yourself. You tell me to put my ego to the side? Funny."
The smaller man was trembling with rage. His face was red, his hands balled into fists, eyes locked onto my visor burning with a hatred I'd only seen from him once.
Good.
"You motherfucker", he whispered. "At least I'm staying. At least I'm not running away while things are still a shitshow here. At least I have the chance of making things better. Better for Sanctuary, for Cass, for Thomas, for Julian. Maybe even for the whole Commonwealth. We're nothing alike. I don't just file away the people I kill as 'obstacles'."
I laughed again, louder this time. "You think you're going to change a goddamn thing here? The Institute- the fucking Institute is going to help anyone else? The people who kidnap and experiment on innocent civilians because they think of them as inferior?" I cocked my head at the smaller man. "You're in bed with a monster. More of a monster than I've ever been. All because your son is the head of that monster."
Nate looked about ready to explode. "You have no clue how it feels to lose everything- no clue-" He froze, mouth open as he realized who he was talking to.
"Uh huh." I nodded. "Funny how that works. Justifying, cosigning what he does because he's important to you. Just bodies on the pile, right? Like I said: just. Like. Me."
A moment of silence followed the declaration as the smaller man stared up at me. His eyes were so wide they looked like they'd pop out of his head, his hands were still balled so tight, I could almost see the muscles straining, the tendons in his neck stood out stark through his tanned skin. The ex-soldier's body language was so obvious he might as well have been telling me what was about to happen.
My arm was moving almost before his. As my former companion began swinging a fist at me, my hand collided with his wrist hard enough I heard the crack of the bones against my titanium gauntlet. He grabbed his wrist, some of the fury on his face replaced by pain.
"I told you not to touch me again." His eyes flashed with renewed anger, but I didn't care. This isn't a fight he can win. "Better get used to being a monster, Nate. You'll have to if you want to stay with the Institute. You won't change what happens here, and you won't fix anything in the Commonwealth."
There was nothing more for me to say, and I had no interest in continuing the conversation. I began toward the door and, as it slid open, I said over my shoulder, "welcome to the club."
I left Nate to himself. Did I mean everything I said…?
Yeah- yeah I think so. Was it strictly true he'd used me, that despite everything he's said, he was more concerned with finding Shaun than anything else? For the most part I think that's fair. He definitely seems more okay with what they do, as reprehensible as it is, than he should be. But hey, he wants to spend as much time as he can with Shaun. If the only way he can do that is to justify what the Institute does, that's his prerogative. It won't be my problem for long.
There was plenty of activity around the glorified fallout shelter. The Synths had apparently finished their sweep and, satisfied no traps were lying in wait, allowed the residents to return to their labs. After what I'd seen, I wasn't confident they wouldn't have missed plastic explosives wired to every door in this place.
Even the portions of the facility that hadn't been impacted by the fighting were in rough shape from the bombs they'd detonated prior to infiltrating. I didn't get a count of the bodies, but considering the charges they were using, it was a safe bet to think a lot of non-combatants were killed.
Maxson is ruthless, and he'll do anything he can to win. He's already proven that on multiple occasions. Beating the Brotherhood is going to take fighting dirty.
Key areas of the Institute were cordoned off by guards and, while they didn't physically dissuade me, whatever they're doing to fix the damage is their job, not mine.
I ended up in the commons, standing off toward the service elevator, watching the bustling scientists and technicians hurry frantically around the room. There was no order to their actions, no methodology. These people have only ever been concerned with R&D. That changed big time today.
It was close to 2100 when X6-88 detached himself from the deluge of people and drifted over to me.
"The leadership is having a joint session they request you attend", the dark skinned Courser said in his customary flat tone.
Took them long enough.
I nodded and the Synth beckoned for me to follow. He led me through the throng and back into the winding maze of corridors before we arrived at the same conference room we'd first been introduced to the leadership in. All of the same people were there except Li: Nate, Shaun, Ayo, Holdren, Fillmore. Each of them were staring at me. Except for Nate. His eyes were on the steel floor between his feet. I don't know if it was because of what I said, or something else, but the ex-soldier made a point not to meet my gaze as I entered.
Oh how things can change in a little over a week.
"Damon", the Institute leader said as I stopped at the end of the large, white conference table, "I would like to start by apologizing for my earlier attitude. I hope you can understand how your conduct prior to the attack would leave us suspicious."
This sounded like one of the placating speeches I got from senior officers on the rare occasions I had the displeasure of interacting with them.
"I also believe it is proper to extend our sincerest thanks for your efforts repelling the Brotherhood assault. If doctor Li were not consumed by the facility repairs, she would also-"
I waved the old man off. "I don't care about gratitude. I care about what you do next: are you going to help me, and what do you want from me for that help."
Shaun looked around the room at the three present division leaders. They all looked… uncomfortable, even Ayo. That was impossible to read into. They could be uneasy for any number of reasons, from being exposed to a fight for the first time, to the knowledge the Brotherhood had infiltrated their systems, or the damage to the Institute.
"Yes", Nate's son said, "we will help you, as long as you assist us in our fight against the Brotherhood of Steel."
As expected.
"In what capacity?"
"I believe you made your point clear enough during the initial stage of the attack: we are unprepared for combat on this scale. Our units are capable fighters, but we need to develop our strategies to use them appropriately. If we are to protect ourselves and rid the Commonwealth of the Brotherhood of Steel, we will need to make significant changes to how we deploy them."
He didn't need to say anything, I already knew what they'd want, but I need to understand if they appreciate how outclassed they are.
"You want me to organize your war efforts. Strategic, tactical, and logistical planning."
Shaun nodded. "We also have my father's experience to rely on, but you seem to have more knowledge about the specific types of combat we will engage in."
My gaze switched from the older man to his father, who still refused to meet it.
"If I'm going to do this, it's my command. Multiple people in charge of a task force ends with everyone dead."
"I understand. We have all agreed the authority for this endeavor will fall to you. My father is there to assist as needed. Anything and everything you need is at your disposal, I only ask you involve myself and Dr. Ayo in your planning and decision making."
As the Institute leader spoke, my eyes never left Nate. Would he actually accept an advisory role? One I wouldn't use much? Hell, the only value he'd add is, potentially, as a field commander. But he wasn't one while he served. He'd been a grunt. I'm sure he picked plenty up over the course of almost two decades of service, but there's a difference between seeing it and doing it.
I don't have any experience doing any of this.
But I do have experience taking it apart.
"That's fine."
A small smile spread across his face. "I am glad we are in agreement. Obviously things are chaotic at the moment. We will have full damage and casualty estimates by morning. Once we do, we will provide you with current forces and infrastructure capacity."
I nodded. "Good. I'll need unit capabilities, a list of personnel with any combat expertise, preferably those who work with Coursers, logistics, and limits of your teleportation system."
This would be constructing a fighting force from the ground up, including commanders. I've never done this before, but I've seen enough different iterations of the same thing to know how it works.
X
"Build backward from the objective." I don't remember who told me that, but it was helpful trying to piece this plan together. The Institute really had thrown their eggs in one basket, that being their advanced technology. Outside of reference texts and some of the technicians in the Synth Retention Division being familiar with squad tactics, they had no knowledge or experience. That means this operation has to be put together from scratch.
Everything.
The most important thing we could do right now is establish an information gathering network. They do have field resources, but those have been primarily tasked with tracking escaped Synths. That's going to change.
The main threat is the Brotherhood, and they have absolutely no information on them. That put me at a disadvantage; the Brotherhood just gained a whole lot of information about the Institute.
They still hadn't allowed me to be involved in the interrogation of the four soldiers we'd captured, but that was fine, I have plenty of other things to worry about.
I had spent the last four days either sleeping, eating, or planning for this upcoming war the Institute is horribly prepared for. A lot of that time has been answering questions from Ayo, Shaun, or one of the various members of the SRD they'd tasked with training to be commanders. I almost laughed. Right because that's how you develop quality leadership.
Well I guess if they can't learn fast enough, this is going to be a short conflict.
Nate, for his part, stayed out of the way, mostly observing from one corner of the conference room that had been turned into a pseudo HQ. That was fine. He had more combat experience than anyone here besides me, but the type of engagements he's used to aren't going to be helpful here.
I'd also been supplied with every piece of information I'd requested and more. There were piles of documentation stacked on the conference room table as well as a terminal they had brought in. When I had the opportunity, I spent as much time as I could reading about their infrastructure's capacity. Good leadership and planning is important, but you don't win a war without someone to pull the trigger.
From what I could glean from the countless technical documents, the Institute could 'grow' batches of 50 Synths every week if they put it into overdrive. Most would be combat ready shortly after, having the necessary information programmed instead of learned. Coursers, a much more effective fighting unit, we're harder. They were chosen by aptitude and given extra training. Best I could figure, we'd get 10 a month.
Maybe I don't have exact figures on the Brotherhood forces, but those numbers didn't add up to a win. That meant guerilla tactics. Lucky for the Institute, guerilla tactics are what I do. Lucky for me, the Institute is uniquely well suited to undertake those guerilla tactics.
Another area they're well accounted for is resources and production capacity. According to a brief I got from Holdren, they could produce enough food and water to support a population triple what they have. Li assured me the production facilities in the ARD could supply anything from laser weapons and armor, to explosives and whatever I could dream up, within reason.
Their infrastructure is their biggest advantage; as far as I can tell, the Brotherhood have to run on whatever they can scavenge from the Commonwealth.
Or take from its citizens.
The citizens.
That's another variable I'll have to plan for. The civilians here hate the Institute (not that I blame them) and while the Brotherhood isn't endearing anyone, fear can go a long way. Especially fear of the unknown. I have to assume any open movement above ground will be met with hostility from them.
Now I know why a team of intel officers usually planned my operations. I hadn't gotten to the part about actually planning any recon operations, let alone combat, and I was already both bored and overwhelmed.
This is one of the reasons why I prefer to be boots on the ground rather than in a conference room. Especially if it's a conference room with a dozen inexperienced scientists trying to get a crash course in large scale combat theory.
A lot more of my time than I liked was spent teaching. I had to walk at least half of the eggheads through everything I was doing at any given time. Shaun's reasoning was sound: I'd be in the field, in combat the vast majority of the time and they needed an educated presence while I was. That didn't mean I enjoyed it, and it didn't make me any less uneasy. I'm teaching these people how to plan a war. That isn't knowledge I trust them with.
But I also don't have a choice. This is how I get back to the UNSC, and that's what matters right now.
It was nearing midnight on the fifth day, and I'd been at it for almost 20 hours straight. That hadn't strictly been by choice, any time I decided to take five, one of the eggheads would start bothering me. It had also been because I was working on a plan for diversifying field assets. Even if they secured the Molecular Relay, we couldn't rely on it. We had to have people and positions outside of the Institute that could act as support and resupply when something goes sideways.
That was a concept most of my impromptu mentees understood. What they didn't understand is why I wanted so many.
"If the Brotherhood of Steel begin uncovering our people, they will capture and torture them", Jackson, a 'trainer' in the Courser program said. For a desk jockey, he was well built, tall, and athletic, with a stern face and dark skin. He'd been the one who has asked the most questions and, if I'm being generous, one of the few I didn't mind answering questions for. "The same goes for these safe houses."
Most field operatives were trained to resist torture. I've dealt with my share of those, and they do a phenomenal job. We don't have those, but we can go one better. "Since these personnel are Synths, you can control their programming, correct?"
The man nodded and an instant later, nodded again. "We can control what information they have access to. Only give them what they need to do their jobs."
"If the Brotherhood picks a few up, that's fine; they're expecting it." I motioned to the massive map spread across the conference table. It had several dozen marks on it, places I thought reasonable to have supply stashes or safe houses. "Same goes for supplies. It isn't like we don't have them to spare."
"But if they're able to establish a pattern, it will be easier to track our positions, will it not", asked Clay Weller, another member of the SRD staff. He wasn't as… respectable as Jackson, usually pestering me with questions seemingly for the sake of asking them. The older, balding scientist had something to do with their surgical procedures, but I didn't ask what.
"If they know what to look for, it wouldn't matter. You always run the risk of being discovered. Proper concealment and verification mitigates that."
"But once they begin-"
Here we go again. "I'm not entertaining another pointless tangent."
"It isn't pointless if it allows the Brotherhood to find us", he retorted, irritated.
"Find us? What the hell do you think that attack was? You aren't hidden anymore. This is about fighting a war." I turned back to the map. "And tell me how randomly placed supplies and safe houses would help them find us."
"I believe I see Dr. Weller's point", a third, Miranda Brown, said. She was on the older side, but with her dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, sharp features, and lithe build, she could have passed as Jackson's age. "If the Brotherhood were to trap one of these, they could capture personnel and interrogate them."
"Which is why we need to establish verification protocols. Permanent residents in the safe houses, and obvious tamper marks on the supply locations would be a start."
"How we secure them doesn't affect the fact we need them", Nate said from his spot, sitting in the corner of the conference room. He'd been watching silently most of the day, but I got the sense he didn't like Weller either. "Warfare 101: cut your enemy's supply line. An army without food doesn't last long. We have to assume some of them will be found and plan for that."
The ex-soldier looked and sounded exhausted. Despite rarely providing input, he'd been in the room almost every moment I was even if, like now, he looked ready to drop out of his chair. If he wanted to force it until he passed out, that was his prerogative.
Jackson cleared his throat. "So accepting we need these positions, I can collaborate with BioScience to build a list of supplies for each. I will just need quantities."
That was a good question. It depends on force deployment and movement along with how many we expect to be compromised, and how long we need them to support a given group for. I checked my HUD's clock: 2357. I hadn't had anything to eat or drink in 11 hours.
"We'll work on that tomorrow."
The rest of the room's occupants seemed relieved. I guess none of them wanted to be the one who called it quits. They all muttered an acknowledgment, and began filing from the room. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the fighting to start soon. Standing around trying to teach these people was exhausting in an entirely new way.
Nate lingered, still sitting in the corner as the last of the Institute scientists left. His expression and body language were no longer hostile, but I knew him well enough to figure something was brewing under the surface. The ex-soldier doesn't stay quiet this long, and the way he was looking at me- it wasn't anger, but it was related.
I don't feel like playing this game. "Say whatever you have to say."
"I don't have anything to say", he replied with a frown.
"Then what do you want?"
"I-" he stood, still staring at me. "Actually I do. I hope you're willing to do what we need to if we're going to win this."
Without waiting for a response, the ex-soldier turned and stalked out of the room.
Willing to do what we need to…? Who- what does he think I am? He's the one who has complained about my methods for the last few months, and now he wants to lecture me about pragmatism?
Whatever. It wasn't going to do me any good worrying about it at this point. He has his own priorities now which isn't my concern anymore. What I need at this point is food and sleep.
That thought in mind, I followed Nate from the conference room and made for the cafeteria. Most of the food was pre-made and always ready. That made it convenient, especially since it meant I didn't need to talk with anyone to get it.
Taking a tray and loading it with what was probably too much food, I grabbed several bottles of water and marched back to my quarters. They'd given me a separate apartment at Nate's request. It was only a few rooms away from his, but it was far enough to have privacy, which is what mattered at this point.
Once inside, I unlatched my helmet and ate. The air in here smelled and tasted worse than the air above ground. It was tainted with the mechanical tinge of ancient air scrubbers, something thankfully missing from the Commonwealth.
It wasn't unfamiliar per se, all UNSC ships, and my own armor, had a similar quality. It wasn't as obvious though.
As usual, the food was delicious, which is to say completely wasted on me. It was chicken dressed in some strange, tangy sauce with a piece of ham wrapped inside. I didn't recognize the dish, but it did make me wonder what kind of world they could have built in the Commonwealth if they were willing to share some of their technology. They have the time and resources to make some strange, gourmet dish as normal fare, and I've been studying their infrastructure capacity for a week now. Goes to show what they think of the people above, I guess.
Not that it matters. Instead of helping them build, they'll be turning the Commonwealth into a battlespace. And I'd be helping. Would Sanctuary get caught in the crossfire? Would the other settlements they've begun establishing networks with be confiscated by the Brotherhood for resources? Would I have to resort to scorched earth tactics to deprive the Brotherhood of those resources?
A lot of innocent people are going to be caught in the fighting. But that's war, especially one like this. After all these years, it's easy to forget I was once an innocent person caught in the fighting.
… That was a long time, and a lot of death ago now. Dwelling on it won't make what I have to do any easier.
I pushed the thoughts of Sanctuary, of Cassandra, of Thomas, of Julian out of my mind. I promised I'd help, but that was before everything that's happened over the past week happened. That was before I remembered I wasn't made to be that.
A small, sad smile twitched across my lips.
I wasn't made to be that… but the brief glimpse I had of it, of doing something because it was the right thing to do. It had been… nice. Maybe someday, after I leave, someone will come along and help the people of the Commonwealth. Who knows, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Nate will try to change the Institute, to give some of its resources, capacity, and technology to that hellhole.
Maybe. I would appreciate that.
Not that I'd ever know.
Finishing my food, I set the tray on the small table. Taking it back to the commons could wait until morning. I secured my helmet in place, sat against the wall opposite the door, MK-18 resting across my lap, and settled into sleep.
It wasn't sound.
Gunshots, explosions, smoke and debris. Bodys flung through the air, the sounds of screaming, crying and pleading just discernible under the deluge of combat.
I was huddled in the corner, the other few survivors with me, all of us trying to squeeze ourselves away from the fighting.
It was then I realized, the crying and pleading were coming from us. But- but this was after the Covenant won, right? Who was-
The boom of a high caliber rifle, probably an SRS-99 AM, sounded over the staccato cracks of infantry rifles and the whine of plasma weapons. Purple blood sprayed over me, mixing with the red I was already bathed in. An instant later another boom shook my ears as a Sangheili crashed to the floor beside us.
We all screamed again.
The fighting continued raging around us for what seemed like an eternity. Covenant bodies were falling from some unknown force. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't care. We were just as dead either way. We were just as dead as everyone else who had fought, and died, from the Covenant.
I covered my ears, curled into the tightest ball I could-
And waited.
I waited to feel the burning of a plasma bolt, or claws grabbing onto me, teeth tearing into me. Everyone else was dead, why should I be any different? Why should I get to survive when I watched my mom, my dad, my sister, and everyone else die?
No, it wasn't a question. I shouldn't. I wouldn't. And that would be okay. Right? I mean, if they died, if my parents couldn't survive, then I couldn't.
Suddenly, my mind was at peace.
Yes- yes I'm going to die, but at least I'll do it at home, and I won't have to live without everyone. I won't have to live with the nightmare that is this war. I won't have to go into foster care, find a new family, and wait, watching the skies, afraid of seeing the bulbous shapes of Covenant ships dropping through the atmosphere to do this again.
I don't have to-
A hand laid itself on my back. Not the claws of an alien, but a human hand. A large one.
What?
What was happening?
Slowly, I pulled my hands away from my ears and, painfully, craned my neck around to look at whoever was there.
The only thing staring back was a black helmet with a dark blue visor.
"Oh my god", the person wearing the helmet muttered before standing. "Sarge! We've got survivors here!"
Another armored figure ran over. I didn't know who or what they were at the time. All I knew was I wasn't dead.
And it wasn't a dream.
… Why?
Why?
WHY!?
Why had they come? Why had they saved me? I was supposed to die. I wasn't supposed to survive if no one else could.
I don't know- I don't know.
No, this can't- I can't live. Mom and dad, and Bri. They were supposed to survive. The Trents, they were always nice. Why did I get to live and they didn't? The Kims. The Walshs… anyone.
Why me…?
Now I recognized those armored figures as ODST. They'd fought their way through the Covenant who attacked us. And because of them I was going to survive.
It was their fault.
My eyes snapped open and I found myself, once again, in the present, staring at the closed door to my apartment.
Once again, I found myself in the present, a SPARTAN, not a five year old boy on the verge of death.
Once again, I found myself living in this never ending loop.
I rested my head against the steel wall behind me and stared at the ceiling. Five year old me knew what questions to ask better than I did. I'm alive.
Why?
The answer thus far has been to fight. To kill. To be a reusable WMD for my handlers whenever they felt my services necessary.
Is that going to change?
How would it not? It's what I do- what I've always done. I don't know anything else.
Is that true, or am I just afraid of another answer?
How the hell am I supposed to know? Right now, my concern is getting the Institute to help me get back to the UNSC. Answering that question is going to take time and brain power I don't have to spare.
Or maybe I should take the time to.
And that helps me get back to the UNSC how?
Answers the question of whether that needs to be my only focus. I'm not comfortable helping the Institute, right? Maybe I need to answer that question before I do.
Before my mind could offer a response to its own challenge, I heard boots ringing on steel in the hall outside. It was just past 0500, I doubt many people would be out at this point.
I climbed to my feet and stowed the internal argument. It could wait until after whatever this was.
As expected, the footsteps stopped in front of my door and it slid open with a gentle hiss.
Nate was standing in the corridor, face set in a determined glare.
"Do you have some time to talk?"
That was… odd. "About?"
The ex-soldier motioned out into the hall. "Follow me, Shaun wants to meet with us."
Ah yes, that old ominous line. The melodrama some people use is ridiculous.
Doesn't matter.
I nodded and began after Nate as he led me through the halls back to the conference room. My own personal hell at this point.
Like he said, Shaun was waiting there, along with X6-88, X2-17, three other Coursers, and Ayo. That gave me a few guesses what this was about. Ayo, Coursers, probably some combat op, most likely to do with escaped Synths. I'm not sure why that would be a priority at the moment, but it's only a guess at this point.
With five Coursers in here, they could also try something stupid. It would be an interesting opportunity to see what the MK-18 did to soft targets.
Once I stopped in front of the table, large map still spread across its surface, Shaun cleared his throat. "I appreciate you coming so early, especially given the massive amount of work you've done", he motioned to the map, "but something has come up we need your assistance rectifying."
Oh great, we're here to play the guessing game, huh?
"The suspense is killing me."
"I would not be so sarcastic", Ayo said, "this is your fault."
My eyes shifted from Shaun, to the irritable division leader, and back.
"He is correct, in part", the older man continued in his customary dry, almost bored tone. "We have finished interviewing the Brotherhood soldiers. One of the many things we learned is they were part of a task force sent to retrieve Dr. Virgil after you two made contact with him. It was through information gleaned from the doctor they were able to break into our Molecular Relay."
That was unfortunate. The doctor turned Supermutant would be in their custody or dead. He'd probably prefer dead. "Secure it better."
"We are working on that as we speak. However, it would be much easier to do so if there were not those who wished to use it. In addition, with the upcoming fight against the Brotherhood of Steel, we cannot risk losing more Synths to escape. Any that do are security risks with our enemies searching for any advantage they can get over us."
While that was certainly true, if they-
… Oh.
"With that in mind", the white haired, dying man continued, "we have been discussing the best methods for securing our facilities outside of your planning sessions. Based on the new information we have, we've agreed on the need to tie up any loose ends you two left on your way here."
Shaun's voice hadn't changed; his tone was still neutral and dry, his cadence was the same plodding pace, but what he said felt a lot more sinister. ONI would love this guy.
"Who would you consider loose ends?"
The Institute leader frowned. "You have spent more time than any of us planning for this war. I am sure you have already put together a list of potential risks."
I had. But they were talking about one in particular.
"The Railroad."
"That is correct", he said with a nod. "They are tenacious and, as much as I dislike admitting, intelligent. They know more of our secrets than they should and because of that, have been very hard to eliminate completely. You two, however, have been in their new headquarters, have gained their trust, to an extent, and represent our best opportunity to destroy them. For the last time."
They want me to wipe out the Railroad.
The request both was and wasn't a surprise. It made sense: they're the largest security risk. I didn't expect them to do it like this though. I should have. It's what I would have done- should have done the moment they asked me to lead this. But I-
If I'm going to get back to the UNSC, the Institute needs to win this war. Eliminating a high risk threat like the Railroad is a must do.
This wasn't a military operation, or an insurrectionist outpost, this was a small collection of largely non-combatants.
That's what qualifies as a threat here.
My hands were balled into fists. I took a deep breath and forced them to relax. What had me-
"I'm pulling Cassandra and Thomas out first", I said.
Shaun nodded. "Agreeable. My father already suggested as much. There was some argument over it, but we will gladly accept them as members of the Institute."
Argument? I glanced at Nate. The ex-soldier was quiet and stone faced. Then it clicked into place. This wasn't something they floated before bringing it up to me; this is a conversation they've had at length. "I hope you're willing to do what we need to if we're going to win this."
They'd already planned this, talked about how to get me on board. Nate brought up the kids.
But was that out of his own concern for them, or a strategy to get me to agree? Then there was the question of having them live here, in the Institute. They would be safer than almost anywhere else, able to live in relative comfort and luxury. This place though- it isn't the Brotherhood, but is it any better? What other choice do I have though?
I could take them to Sanctuary, like we originally planned.
Would they be any safer there than here?
They won't be in the center of a war.
But that war will spread. What happens when the Brotherhood go looking for more resources? If they find Cassandra and Thomas in Sanctuary, they'll know it has some connection to me
And if I bring them here, the Institute could be destroyed or, if it isn't, they could be pulled into their appalling practice.
What is this a discussion for? I have an objective, and I have a direct path to achieving it. I already have enough to deal with. If Something needs to change down the line, I'll deal with it later.
Then there's the question about the Railroad. Why want me to kill them? I understand why from their perspective, but that seems a bit ruthless, even for me.
I have to though. This is how I get back to the UNSC. The fewer variables I have to deal with, the easier it will be to win this war. The sooner we win this war, the faster I get back to my universe.
There's a mission objective. I complete my mission objectives.
"I'll handle it", I said.
Nate stood. "I'm coming."
"I don't need you there."
"Don't care", the ex-soldier retorted, shaking his head. "I'm coming."
"What, you don't trust me to do my job?" I let a hint of challenge creep into my voice.
He laughed. "Trust you? Damon, there's one thing I trust you to do."
"Good. Stay here."
"Not happening."
"Please", Shaun interjected before I could respond. "This isn't productive." The old man looked at me. "Damon, my father wishes to be there to ensure the safety of Cassandra and Thomas. They are as important to him as they are to you."
I glared at my former companion. Why hadn't he said that?
"Stay out of the way." I turned to the Institute leader. "We'll make contact after the sun sets."
Shaun nodded. "Agreeable."
There may have been more that they wanted to discuss, Shaun had said he wanted me to include him and Ayo in strategic decisions, but I needed to leave that room. I don't know why, I just couldn't be in there any longer.
As I made my way back to my room, I was vaguely aware of someone asking me something as I passed by, but I didn't pay attention.
My mind was preoccupied.
They want me to eliminate the Railroad. It makes sense, it's a reasonable decision on their part, and I'm working with them. I'm supposed to do what's necessary to win whatever this coming war will be. This is what I've always done. Aside from taking what satisfaction I could from fighting the Covenant (at least in the beginning), I've been a tool, something to be deployed when a mission needs doing. That's what's going on here.
And yet… this feels off.
I ducked through the door into my small apartment, and stood in the living room as it slid shut behind me. Emotions get in the way of the mission. That's how I've operated since I began training exclusively under Katrina and Mendez. This isn't about how I feel, it's about what I need to do. Letting emotions intrude on a mission objective is how you leave someone else to clean up your mess. Right now I have to worry about what I need to do to get back to the UNSC.
That's my only concern.
Apparently keeping Cassandra and Thomas safe is too.
Well- yes. They don't need to be caught in the crossfire. I can't let them down again. And I don't know if there's anything that could get me to pull the trigger on them.
An image of me aiming my rifle at Cassandra as she cowered in a corner, covering the young boy. She was staring at me, eyes wide, but not just from fear. They were filled with hatred and anger and pain. I'd betrayed them.
My entire body went rigid.
No, I hadn't just betrayed them, I was going to kill them. I'd robbed them of another home, no matter how temporary it was.
Bodies were scattered around the cave, blood smeared over every surface.
And suddenly I was staring up at myself, aiming the MK-18 back at me. A massive, implacable suit of armor, golden visor glaring down at me without a hint of remorse.
The same terror I'd felt during the Covenant assault gripping me in it's iron clad clutches.
That's why I'm getting them out first. I'm not going to kill them. I'm not the Covenant. Now I need to get my head on straight. This is when things actually start.
I shook myself, forcing my mind to focus on what needs to be done.
Cassandra and Thomas would survive, and no matter what came next, they'd at least be safe.
Stalking over to the table, I slipped my rifle from it's sling and began my customary pre-mission rituals. Stock supplies, clean weapons, run through the plan.
The plan… Right.
X
Nate was trudging through the darkened, crumbling city beside me. His eyes roamed the surrounding structures, searching for threats. I was doing the same.
This wasn't like the last time we'd both been out of the Institute. Before the Brotherhood attack. Before Nora. Before his… outburst.
Before I remembered.
Two weeks. A lot can happen in two weeks.
Bases can be destroyed, armies overrun, cities razed.
Entire worlds burnt to a cinder.
Those were all things I knew, I was used to, no matter how… morbid they may be.
Something I wasn't familiar with was how much I could change in that time. How much someone else could.
The man next to me was nothing like the one who spent weeks stuck in the Railroad's HQ, entertaining Cassandra and Thomas.
I- well I guess I hadn't exactly 'changed'. All that happened was Nate reminded me of what I am, what I'm supposed to be, and what I'm here to do. Nothing has changed about that since coming here, the only thing that happened was I thought a few kind words and pleasant thoughts could change that. Regardless of whether I remember what happened to me, regardless of how I feel about some of the people I've met since coming here, I'm still Damon G-052.
There are nicknames out there for me, floating around insurrectionist and secessionist circles. I'm sure I've even heard some of them. But none stick with me. All I'd ever been concerned with is completing the mission, whether that be assassinating a target, blowing an outpost, or getting rid of a cell.
That's all this is. This is just another mission to complete. Another target to be eliminated. Another step closer to getting back to my universe. That's the only thing I need to focus on. The only thing I need to worry about.
…
…
…
Right?
Nate and I crossed under a building that had collapsed across the street and wedged itself against the tower on the opposite side. We were a little over a block away from the entrance Deacon uses.
My eyes were darting around the dark, blown out windows, crumbling walls, piles of debris, and rusted frames that, at one point, had been vehicles. The last time I was here, the Railroad had lookouts established to watch the subway entrance. Were they still here? Did they know what I was coming to do? Did they know I'm working with the Institute now? Do they-
Relax. Breathe.
I stopped a dozen meters from the half collapsed single story structure that led down to the subway below.
Going in like this is only going to make things harder. Relax, breathe, stick to the plan.
The ex-soldier was staring at me, an irritated frown on his face.
I wish he weren't here. Why did he come? It isn't to look after the kids, so why?
Not like I can do anything about it now.
Oh yes there is.
Nothing I should do about it now.
My feet began carrying me forward once again.
Isn't there?
As I approached the broken front door, I scanned it for signs of a trap. No obvious wires, the rubble hadn't been moved, and, unless they were extraordinarily well hidden, no one inside the crumbling, relatively barren interior to ambush us.
It felt like the night was pressing down on my back as I walked into the subway's entrance.
I'm here to kill them this time. I'm not here to report back, I'm here to kill them.
We continued into the subway system, it's damaged, dilapidated concrete walls washed in the twilight glow of my MJOLNIR's NVS.
My MJOLNIR.
Not just a shield, a weapon I've used to kill countless people. I've lost and destroyed firearms, equipment- but never my armor. Always the same armor.
The Railroad was just the next group to fall victim to me. To it.
After all, I'm a SPARTAN. More people recognize me by my armor than my face.
The trek felt as though it stretched on into eternity. The dark subway tunnels, narrow side passages, and occasional foray back above ground- they seemed to take an order of magnitude longer to traverse than normal.
My mission clock told me a different story. We were making the same time I usually did on this route.
It was me that was out of sync. This isn't going to be a quick and easy fight, I need to keep my head on mission. All of these other thoughts- they're unnecessary baggage. Baggage I can't afford right now. I'm so close to completing the mission, just one more thing. I only need to do what I was made to do.
I just need to fight. That's all. It's all I'm meant to be, a weapon, and the Institute was aiming me for now. The rest of this isn't what I am. I'm a SPARTAN III. I'm a killer. And that's what I'll do.
Half an hour after we entered the subway, we emerged from another entrance, the church in sight.
Just do what I'm supposed to.
The ex-soldier followed me as I picked my way through the dilapidated, rubble strewn main floor of the church. The night was bearing down on me now. It felt like the silent, stilted air was trying to crush me in my armor. Why am I so nervous? These people- they aren't a major threat. I have a plan, all I need to do is get the kids to Nate, and it'll be over.
We climbed down to the basement and began toward the-
"Stop there", a voice called from behind us. "Hands out to your sides, away from your body, face forward, no sudden moves."
My body twitched, ready to respond to the threat.
Not yet.
Nate cleared his throat as he followed the order. "Hey Chris, a little… aggressive on the welcome back."
"Just being careful", the man replied. I forced my arms away from my gun, trying to relax. "We're keen to keep ourselves out of the Institute's sightlines, and, well, you been there the last few weeks."
"Oh don't worry", the ex-soldier said with a weariness I almost believed. "They didn't replace us with Synths."
The guard chuckled. "I don't know why anyone would make a Synth of you."
"Because one of me isn't enough for this world."
I glanced down at the smaller man. Damn you're good. Came here to kill these people and you're joking with one like we just left.
"Yeah, sure bud." Rustling came from his position. "I'm gonna sweep you, stand still."
Chris's footsteps clacked on the stone floor as he approached from behind. My arms tensed, and legs coiled. All they knew was this was someone I'd be fighting in a few minutes. Having him at my back flew in the face of every instinct I have. Even so, I locked my body in place and waited.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something float over Nate, and then me. Probably some form of signal detector.
We aren't calling for backup.
A few seconds later, he stepped away. "Go ahead. Tom and Desdemona have been hopping around like kids waiting for you to report back. Glad that'll finally stop."
"Thanks Chris", Nate said, not a hint of what was about to happen in his voice.
Weaving through the halls, the stone walls and ceiling seemed a lot tighter than the last time I'd been through here. My hand slid its way toward the concussion charge I had tucked in a pouch.
No. This isn't a breach and clear. I need to wait.
A moment later, we entered the unfinished cavern they turned into their base of operations. It was, for the group, crowded. Deacon, Desdemona, Tinker Tom, Glory, Pam, a dozen of their soldiers-
I felt my chest tighten.
Cassandra and Thomas were there, standing beside the man they'd played cards with- I think his name was Hank- both staring at us with barely contained excitement.
"Oh my god- you're actually back", Tom said, his eyes wide and a massive smile plastered onto his face. "Were the s-"
"Slow down Tom", the Railroad leader said, looking at her subordinate. Her hardened, weathered face hid her eagerness well. "They just got here and we need to give them some time to breathe." She turned back to us, to Nate. "I hope you found what you were looking for at the Institute."
Oh yeah, we found Shaun.
The ex-soldier nodded. "Yes. It… wasn't what I wanted, or expected, but I did."
"I understand", Desdemona replied with a solemn frown. "That is how most things work in the Commonwealth."
"That's something I've started accepting, I think." Nate cleared his throat. "It isn't the easiest thing to deal with."
"It never is."
My gaze wandered to the two kids while they spoke. Cassandra's expression was still controlled, but the small smile on her face and the way she was fidgeting with her hands betrayed her. Thomas was damn near jumping with excitement. Did he think I found Julian?
The image- that same image that's haunted me since the ambush flashed through my head, of the Brotherhood Vertibird soaring away, him staring at me, screaming in terror. My hands clenched and my jaw tightened.
What's the difference between what they did and what I'm about to do?
Doesn't matter. This is the mission. This is what I'm supposed to do.
The mission? What's the mission for?
The UNSC-
The silence that had fallen over the cavern finally intruded on my thoughts and I felt the collective gaze of the people there on me.
"Sorry", Nate said, "he's been a little preoccupied. While we were in the Institute, the Brotherhood infiltrated and attacked."
There was a murmuring of surprised exclamations among the assembled Railroad members.
"How?" Deacon asked.
"We think they captured Dr. Virgil, the Institute scientist who told us about the Courser chip, and used him to do it."
The Railroad agent actually looked troubled. "They were able to develop this technology that quickly?"
The ex-soldier shrugged. "They weren't able to figure out how long they'd been researching it for." He glanced at me. "We had a suspicion the Brotherhood already knew about the Molecular Relay. It wouldn't surprise me if they were looking for a few missing pieces of information."
"So the Brotherhood are serious about starting a war." Deacon shifted. "Damn. That's going to make life a lot more complicated…"
A lump formed in my throat.
"Well", Desdemona said, "I think that's something we can discuss as we get through some other issues." She turned to the cavern. "Nothing seems imminent, so we can give them a few minutes to unwind."
With the Railroad leader's dismissal, the others began dispersing while Cassandra and Thomas raced over to us.
"You're finally back!" Thomas exclaimed.
My eyes couldn't decide what to focus on. They were darting between the two of them, along with any Railroad member still in sight. Targets and allies. Targets and allies.
The young boy stopped in front of me, staring up into my visor with an oddly mixed expression.
"Cass said you wouldn't have Julian yet", his smile disappeared for an instant before returning full force. It even reached his eyes. "She said you'd get him back though. That you kept us safe, and brought us here, so we should trust you to save Julian too."
Cassandra's face flushed. "Tommy, why are you telling him that?" She took a deep breath. "The people here have been great. Even started teaching us." The teenager looked down at her adopted younger brother. "Turns out he's got a knack for making things. Tom calls him his 'mini me'. Glory's been helping me with some… simple fighting." Her eyes returned to me, a hint of sharpness in her gaze. "I don't want to be helpless anymore."
The lump grew until it was hard for me to breathe.
I don't want this.
I knelt in front of the two. Both looked so happy, both looked so… content.
"We'll wait for you to get Julian back", Cassandra said, "I- I didn't want to, but I know you're doing everything you can to find him."
But I wasn't. My presence here is evidence of that. I'm here to wipe out the Railroad- to take another home from them.
Julian- I'd still try to save him, but that was an aside to the war we were going to fight with the Brotherhood. Nate said it, right? I shoot things. Maybe I get Julian back, but it's going to be by wading through an ocean of bodies. That's nothing new, I've left countless in my wake, what's a few more in a different universe?
That's what these people are, right? A few dozen on the pile? There's enough blood on my hands for lifetimes.
Who would notice the difference at this point?
I don't want this.
"Do-" the rest of the words caught in my throat. I cleared it, trying to get rid of the blockage. It didn't really help.
"Do you feel safe here?"
This- I can't do this. This isn't what I'm here for. This isn't what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to carry out my orders, to finish the mission, accomplish the objective.
It isn't what I was made to do. What I've been trained to do. What I've spent my life doing. I'm not here to be a protector, or a friend.
I'm a weapon. I'm here to kill things.
I don't want this.
Cassandra nodded. "Yes." Her jaw tightened and, for a brief moment, her eyes glistened. "I didn't think I'd ever feel safe again." She'd been through what I had. Twice. And she's still able to say that. To look at something, someone and tell them she feels safe. To find something like helping Julian and Thomas to dedicate herself to.
"Thank you." She looked at Nate. "Both of you. I- I don't know if I'm okay yet, or if I'll ever be okay, but you've made it cross my mind." A modicum of her tenacious determination peeked back through her expression. "And I'll wait for you to get Julian back."
She's strong. Stronger than me.
"That means a lot Cass", Nate said, voice a little thicker than normal. Was that fake too? "We'll get him back. We will."
They feel safe here. Safe enough to be comfortable. Safe enough to say they'll wait.
The Railroad has kept them safe and happy while I was gone, with the Institute trying- failing to help Nate.
This was the happiest, the most relaxed I'd ever seen them.
I don't want this.
My eyes flicked around the cavern. Tinker Tom was at a terminal, tapping away with some contraption on the table beside him. Four of the soldiers were sitting in the kitchenette, eating and talking. Deacon was with Desdemona at the back, conversing quietly. A few others, including Glory, someone Cassandra had latched on to, were around us too.
These are people the two of them trust. Something I'd never been able to do after the Covenant attack.
And I'm here to take that from them.
I don't want this.
If I betray them like that, will they ever be able to trust anyone again?
They looked so… at ease.
These people I'm here to kill- the only crime they're guilty of is trying to help. Even if they could do it better.
Their crime has never been my concern though. My concern has always been the mission.
Orders. Following orders.
What orders? I have no orders.
Not explicitly, but my responsibility is to the UNSC.
"Damon?" Thomas asked, a small frown on his face. "Are you okay?"
Am- am I okay?
"What?" I tried to say, but it came out as more of a grunt.
"What?"
"You- you look sad."
I look sad?
This kid- I'm here to uproot his life yet again, and he's concerned I look sad?
These two- they're too good for me. Too strong for me.
I don't want this.
"Hey guys", Nate said, resting a hand on Cassandra's shoulder. "He's okay, he's just got a lot on his mind right now. Come on, let's give him a minute."
The lump forced its way back up my throat. It came back so quickly and so large, I almost stopped breathing.
This was it. Nate would take them to the back, where we'd slept the last time we were here, and the fight would start.
It wouldn't be complicated. I had four concussion charges and two explosives. One of the concussion charges would be enough to disorient everyone in here. An explosive for the table of four, another for Desdemona and Deacon. The concussion waves from those would buy me a few more seconds. By then, everyone else in the cavern would be dead. At that point it was wait until more of them crowded in, and use the other concussion grenades.
A few minutes at the most.
A few more minutes of fighting, of killing, and I'd be one step closer to getting back to the UNSC.
All I have to do is what I was made to do for a few more minutes, and after that, the only ones I need to kill are the Brotherhood. And I have no love lost for them.
This hurdle- after I'm done here, there's nothing left to stop me from doing what I've been trained to do.
All I have to do is wipe out the Railroad. Kill the people Cassandra and Thomas have come to trust, and destroy their ability to trust anyone again. Lock the emotions I've come to recognize, even appreciate, away once more.
This time for good.
I just have to be SPARTAN G-052.
First Lieutenant Damon SPARTAN G-052.
Damon SPARTAN G-052.
Damon G-052
Damon.
Me.
…
…
…
…
…
I DON'T WANT THIS.
My hand stopped a millimeter from the pouch my first concussion charge was in.
Nate met my gaze for an instant as he began pulling the two of them toward the room.
Pulled them to safety.
From ME.
That same hand shot out and latched onto his forearm. Clamped down hard enough I felt the bones flex.
The ex-soldier shouted in pain before releasing Cassandra's shoulder.
"Damon what the hell are you doing?!" he cried, other hand trying to pry mine away.
I stood. "I'm not doing this."
He stopped struggling and, despite the evident pain on his face, locked eyes with me. "What are you talking about?"
Unlatching my hand, I nodded toward the entrance. "Tell Shaun I'm not doing this."
Silence blanketed the cavern as I felt a dozen pairs of eyes locked on me.
They didn't matter.
None of it mattered.
I don't want this- I don't want this and I'm done doing things just because I'm supposed to do them.
Nate's mouth worked up and down, no words coming out for a few seconds before he finally found his voice.
"I- you're- what are you-", suddenly his face grew red with anger and his eyes narrowed to almost slits. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I'm not doing the Institute's dirty work. You're on your own."
"This is bullshit Damon! You know we have to-"
"WE?" I roared. "WE? Who the fuck is we? All you've ever done is stand to the side while I did the killing- while I was covered in blood. That's all anyone has ever done with me; sit back and watch me do their killing. I'm done doing it because I'm supposed to be a weapon."
Someone grabbed my hand and I glanced to the side to see Thomas reaching up, fear and confusion twisting his fa-
My head whipped back around as Nate went for his rifle. My hands lashed out and, before he could make it more than a few centimeters, my left was wrapped around his right forearm, and my right around his throat. I felt the bones in his arm snap as I ripped him into the air. I twisted, slamming the smaller man down on a table beside us.
He tried to scream in pain again, but his air supply was cut off.
"I told you I'm DONE", I hissed. "Now. Get. Out."
I released him and stepped away.
Nate sputtered and heaved as his lungs tried desperately to pull air in.
Fear. An all too familiar fear was plastered on his face. Jaw set, eyes as wide as they could be, locked onto my visor. He took several, breathless moments to pick himself up off the table.
Once he did though, and the rush of adrenaline and initial fear wore off, a drop of something else joined the sea of terror. What was it? Pain?
It didn't matter.
The smaller man looked from me, to Cassandra and Thomas who were standing behind me, and back.
Lost. He looked… lost.
Slowly, painfully, my former companion turned and began trudging out of the room. No one tried to stop him. Maybe they were all too surprised.
As I watched him exit, the realization hit me: I'd just nuked the first, maybe only friendship I've ever had. The multitude of days, nights, conversations, and fights flashed through my head. From the first time I'd discussed the attack with- anyone to him apologizing for making me wait the first day we were at the Institute. The first fight in Sanctuary, the Deathclaws, saving him from Kleo's ambush.
Then there was the understanding, the empathy.
He didn't just know what happened to me, he understood it. The same way I could understand his need to reunite with his son. The will to do anything to get him back.
And the pain once he saw what became of him.
It was-
"What just happened?"
A moment passed before the words registered. That was Desdemona.
I turned to face the Railroad leader. Her face was a mask of confusion and anger. She wasn't dumb enough to miss what I'd just said.
No point in lying now.
"The Institute sent me to kill you." I looked down at Cassandra and Thomas. They were both staring at me.
Maybe I hadn't gone through with it, but I still betrayed them. I still let them down. Again. I'm here, I almost did it. I was a half second from destroying another home of theirs. Of killing people they had come to trust.
They deserve someone better than me- stronger than me to rely on. I'm not worthy of their trust.
I don't think I ever have been.
It wasn't until I looked back up that I noticed every person in the cavern had a weapon aimed at me.
"You'll need to elaborate", Desdemona said, face, and voice, made of stone.
"Nothing to elaborate on. They wanted you dead."
That's over now though, and I'm not going back to the Institute, and-
And I'm not going back to my universe.
Somehow- somehow I wasn't disappointed. I'd just thrown everything away.
But, for once, I did the right thing.
I did the right thing.
My eyes returned to the kids for an instant.
I did the right thing for them, because I wanted to do the right thing. That's enough for now.
That's enough for now.
"You need to go. Now."
"Not until-"
"Dez", Deacon interrupted, handgun still trained on me. "If he's telling the truth, the Institute'll be on us in no time. We should leave."
Her eyes stayed on the covert agent for a moment before turning back on me, fire burning behind them.
"You betrayed us." The accusation in her voice- I didn't know her well, but it hurt. It hurt because she was right.
It hurt because I betrayed Cassandra and Thomas, the two people who still believed in me, who still trusted me.
"I'm sorry", I said quietly. So quietly I could barely hear it. "I didn't mean to."
Desdemona held my gaze for an instant longer before turning the fire in her eyes away. "Let's go people."
Activity exploded around me, the Railroad members bustling around the cavern to gather whatever they needed. They were leaving because of me, because I decided the only thing that mattered was getting back to the UNSC. Because I trusted Nate.
No, maybe 'trust' is too strong a word for what this was, but I went along with it. Because that's what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to follow orders.
Well, now there won't be any orders again.
That's-
Someone tugged on my right hand again and I looked down to see Thomas. He was pulling on the titanium clad gauntlet that had killed untold numbers of insurrectionists, secessionists, and whoever else ONI wanted dead just because I was told to. His face was a mask of confusion. Cassandra though, Cassandra understood what was happening.
And she was pissed. "Did you come here to kill us too?"
My eyes went wide behind my visor. My throat tightened and I felt my stomach twist itself into knots.
"NO!" I said, shaking my head vigorously. "No that was-"
That was my one condition for this? That'll help.
"Cassandra- I'd never-" I couldn't finish that sentence. It was a lie.
Even if they weren't caught in the fighting, doing this would have hurt them. This did hurt them. I hurt them.
"I'm sorry." My eyes dropped to the ground. "I've let you down twice now." Which one was worse though? I don't know.
I forced myself to meet her eyes. "You need to go with them. You need- you deserve better than what I can give you. I'll get Julian back. I promise. And…" I trailed off. What the hell is a promise from me worth?
"Just go."
"No", the teenager said. "You're coming too. If the Institute is after the Railroad- if they're coming to kill them, it's because of you, and you need to be there to defend them."
That made sense, but even so, I couldn't. No one here would be able to trust me, and they shouldn't. Removing me from the equation would make everyone safer.
"I can't. I'll handle things with the Institute. These people know what they're doing, you'll be safe."
A modicum of worry found its way onto her face. "You aren't going to abandon us too. I've had too many people leave me. This isn't about a mistake, this is about you fixing it."
More of me than I ever thought possible wanted to believe her, wanted to go with her.
But I couldn't. Desdemona and the rest of the Railroad would never allow it.
"I-"
"Cass, Thomas", Glory said, glaring at me as she approached. "We need to go."
The teenager looked from me to the Railroad soldier. "Damon is coming-"
"I'm sorry, he isn't. He's an Institute agent."
Desperation joined the medley of emotions in her expression. "No- no he isn't. He's saved us. He- he-"
"He betrayed us." Glory's eyes were sharp, full of hatred.
She was right, of course.
Thomas was still tugging on my hand, tears streaming down his face.
This- I need to do this. For them. I've failed them twice now, I can't do it again. I shoved my pain, my helplessness as far away as I could. This isn't about me, or how I feel. This is about keeping them safe, and I'm not the right person to do it, not directly. "You two need to go with them."
Thomas cried out as I pulled my hand away. "No! No! You can't go! You can't-"
"I have to. I'm sorry." I turned to Glory. "I don't care what you think of me, you protect these two with your life."
The white haired woman hesitated, eyes narrowed. She was studying me with an intensity I've only seen from a few people. After a moment, she nodded and grabbed each of them. "Come on."
As she led them away, both Cassandra and Thomas wordlessly stared at me. No protesting, just defeated acceptance.
Even trying to do the best thing possible for them in this situation, I betrayed them. Somehow, despite everything, they still wanted me to come with them. That hurt too.
This is what's best though. More than the Railroad not trusting me, I need to be as mobile and adaptable as possible. I'll be fighting the two most powerful entities in the area, maybe on the planet. I'll be doing what I was made to do, not because I'm supposed to, but because I want to.
Because, regardless of the repercussions for me, it's the right thing to do.
Glory led them to an alcove in the back of the cavern, most likely an escape route. The other Railroad members followed, some casting a hateful glance my way, others not bothering to look. Deacon was the only one who stopped.
"What's really going on here?" he asked.
"Exactly what I said."
The Railroad agent's eyes locked onto mine and, even through his dark tinted glasses, I could feel the anger in his gaze.
"You came here to kill us. Why didn't you?"
Why didn't I? Well- I guess that's a pretty simple answer. Despite everything, I almost chuckled. "Because it was the wrong thing to do. It took until I was standing here to realize that."
He frowned, but, after a few seconds, nodded. "What now?"
"Now?" I don't know, really. I- I don't know. "Play it by ear."
Deacon grunted. "The Commonwealth loses, whoever wins that fight. You want to repay us, do something about that."
Without another word, the man turned and followed his companions out through their escape route. They were alive for now, but that isn't because I saved them, I just didn't kill them. And I was alone.
Again.
Cassandra, Thomas, Julian, and Nate. The four people I'd come to- more than care for- consider friends were gone, and I was alone again. As always.
It's what's supposed to happen. That's where I'm supposed to be. Everything I did, everything I've done here, led to bad outcomes. Led to this.
Alone is where I belong, where I can't hurt anyone. Well… where I can't hurt anyone I care about. Hurting people is what I do, it's what I've always done, and now I'm going to put that skill to use again. Neither the Institute or the Brotherhood are going to help me at this point, and the only thing this war will do is destroy what little life the people here have scrounged together.
I can do something about that by hurting people.
My feet began carrying me back toward the hall, through its rocky, winding passages, and back up into the church.
There was no plan, no strategies, and no mission. All I know is I need to get Julian back, and keep Cassandra, Thomas, and Sanctuary safe, even if it's from a distance. My brand of protection is probably best served at a distance anyway.
Even as I made that decision, a deep ache in my chest tried to push back. Preston, Alexandra, Sturges, Ellie, Valentine… even the kids after all this, they wanted me around. I've been alone so long, the idea of having people I could not only tolerate, but wanted to to be around too… It was strange and new and warm.
Do I deserve that? After everything?
The odd thing about it was, what's happened, what I've done before coming here wasn't my concern. It's what I've done since coming here that made the decision for me: no. No I don't. Not now. Not after betraying them like that.
Then there's Nate. What the hell am I supposed to think about the ex-soldier? The person- the friend who catalyzed all of this. The friend who encouraged me to change, to grow, turned his back on me when that change drove me to do something I wanted, something good. Does that mean I chose wrong? That I've done this wrong?
I didn't know, couldn't know. This is all new for me.
Before I realized, I was at the entrance to the church, staring out into the night. The crumbling city around me almost seemed to beckon, like it knew this was right, that it would be my only companion.
Too late to take it back now. I stepped forwa-
Something crashed into my shields and a split second later a supersonic crack exploded into the night.
My body reacted on its own, legs coiling to drive me back into-
A dozen more projectiles slammed into me, and my shields flickered
Then they failed.
The alarm had just registered when another volley hit me. Most pinged off my suit's thick titanium plates, but a few found the soft armor underneath.
And I felt entries.
My body screamed in pain as I catapulted myself back into the church. I cleared the doors-
Two more slugs slammed into me; one clanged off the side of my helmet, hitting hard enough to send my ears ringing.
The other hit the soft armor over my neck.
My body went rigid as pain exploded from the wound. I barely registered crashing to the wooden floor. My right hand tried to move to cover the hole, but it was too stiff. My shoulder must have been hit.
Would it matter though? It was a neck wound, and it passed through. Had it hit any arteries? I could still breathe, so it hadn't pierced my trachea.
I need to move- I need to go. Whoever just shot me wouldn't-
A dull rumble rolled through the ruined church.
So that's how it is, huh?
Despite everything the universe had thrown at me, I'd survived. Countless fights, missions, ambushes, wounds, and unwinnable situations. Maybe it's appropriate what ends up getting me killed is when, given the choice between following orders and completing the mission, and doing the right thing, I decide to do the right thing.
After everything I've done, all the lives I've taken, this was always going to be how it ended up. Someone who kills other people should be willing to accept when their number was called, right? This life I've lived for the past 15 years, it wasn't mine anyway; I was just living on borrowed time, persisting as a ghost of my anger and vengeance.
So why, as I watched the church's roof splinter, did despair wrap itself around my heart like an iron blanket.
Unfortunately, that answer was easy. There are so many things I want to do now. People were relying on me, people I care about. If I'm gone, who is going to keep this war from destroying the Commonwealth? Who is going to keep the Gunners from finding Sanctuary? Keep the Institute away from Cassandra and Thomas?
Save Julian.
I wanted something again. Wanted something besides revenge on the Covenant for the first time I could remember.
Now that was out of reach.
As I lay on the splintered wooden floor, the church shaking and crumbling around me, I felt more helpless than I did during the Covenant attack. While I watched the aliens slaughter everyone I'd ever known.
Maybe this is right then. I couldn't do anything during the attack, and now I can't do anything either. Maybe it's karmic that, both times I've wanted to help, I couldn't do anything but lay in the ruins of my own failure.
The walls of the church buckled and the roof caved in, dropping toward me with a finality.
This is me. This is what I deserve. I wasn't strong enough to move on with life then, why should it be any different now?
That thought echoed through my head as steel and wood rained down around me.
That thought echoed through my mind as I felt something hard and heavy slam into my leg.
That was the last thought that filled every part of who I am as blackness rushed forward to envelope me.
This is what I am.
Next chapter: 3/1, Wake Up