Chapter 31

The deepest wounds

Week 9: Day 67

(Johnathan's POV)

Freelancer Dorm room

'The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.' ~ Douglas McArthur.

Against popular belief, most soldiers don't like war. They hate it with every bone in their body. Many would ask why they stay or even keep fighting if they hate it so much. Many would ask why don't they quit. I ask myself that same question everyday. I absolutely HATE my job. I'm always entire universes away from home, usually left to fend for myself, surrounded by death all the time, all alone more times then not. The answer is simple. Soldiers go to war not because they enjoy it, but because they love those who they're leaving behind to protect. They go because they want to keep their loved ones safe, even if it's at the cost of their own life. In war, the line between good and evil is so blurry that next to no one can see it. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is as black and white as it seems. So many grey areas to navigate though. Nothing is simple or straight forward. Things become even blurrier when you're fighting for your life and the lives of those you care about. There are never any true victors in war, only survivors.

Dad's death woke me up on that little life lesson the hard way. I can still recall the stories he shared of his bloody battles, stories of the crazy stuff him and his squad done, even stories about him and Mom. Those were always my favorite. I always loved the story of their wedding day. He always seemed so happy remembering it. I haven't heard the story in years. But I remember the important details. He told me it was on her home universe, preformed by his squad mate who was a priest. He said he had his Gunny officer as his best man. He showed us the tape of it before his death, but it's been so long since I last saw it.

Why am I mentioning all this now? Because I am being forced to relive some of the many horrors I've seen in the Human-Covenant war. I'm nearly twenty years old, barely an adult and barely experience everything life has to offer. Yet I've seen and done things no one should be forced to. I've seen millions of lives burn in a matter of second, innocent children slaughtered by monsters, entire lives destroyed with the simple push of a button or flick of the wrist. That kind of stuff leaves wounds that can never heal. I've done more in the past three years than most will their entire lives. I've looked Death right in the eyes and laughed. I got so many skeletons in my closet, I can fill a graveyard with it. But this dream . . . this memory . . . this nightmare, is a constant reminder of my many failures in life. One of the millions that plague my dreams at night. I can still remember it like it was yesterday.

Our torch and burn mission on Mesa was an absolute disaster. Mostly was an aquatic planet, but it still burned to glass. I lead Freelancer team Bravo to an ONI research site. Never asked what it was about, destroyed it all. It was critical we destroyed that data before the Covenant got a hold of it.

Right now I laid in my bed fast asleep, robotic arm off and resting soundly on the night stand beside me. Elaia fast asleep in her bed using Velvet's stuff Rex as a pillow. Serena and Elizibeth rested silently in their beds, surprisingly considering Elizibeth is an active sleep talker. Azula curled up in her doggy bed. Then there was freaking Rosa. Spread out, belly up, with her tongue over her eye, snoring louder than a Nova Nuke going off. I memorized how everyone normally sleeps. Happens after going endless nights without sleep. These night terrors some times prevent me from falling asleep, other times they can be a living hell when I do get some sleep. I could feel myself shifting and turning in my sleep, like I was struggling with something. . . . or fighting. I can still hear sounds of constant gunfire, the heat of plasma flying over head, the sight of such horrors. I can't forget them no matter how hard I try, some wounds just don't heal. If they do, they leave the most horrific scars. Not seen on the outside, but buried deep with in the mind, the soul.

Three years ago

Mesa, 2550

"INCOMING!" I yelled as the Fuel rod cannon blast smashed into the ground inches infront of us. I was forced to use my robotic arm to shield my eyes from the intense flare as it exploded, melting the rock and stone beneath. Hard whine of plasma weaponry firing filled the air around us, along with the heavy foot steps from thousands of Covenant were pinned down behind what use to be an office building on the top of a small hill, walls all but destroyed, roof long past gone, blue paint long past melted off. I knew humans in the Halo universe were up against some pretty steep odds but this is down right insane! How is anyone suppose to survive these battles. Outnumbered, out gunned, enemy way more advanced then us in every way possible, any form of support is pretty much non-existent at this point. Even worse is that they just keep coming. No matter how many we kill, ten more pop up to replace them. If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were up against the entire Covenant army! What's next, a Scarab pops up and completely screws us up?! Knowing my luck three would pop up just for thinking about it.

"Fifty meters, Grunt with a fuelrod canon. Taking the shot." Rhode informed not too far to my right picking off who she could with her liberated needler rifle, plasma pistol hung on her side as a back up. We ran out of ammo for our Human weapons hours ago, so we're resorting to using weaponry we scavenge from our fallen foes. Her armor scorned by the endless waves of plasma, her helmet long past blackened by the falling ash of this once peaceful world. She kelt behind a partially destroyed metal desk. Keeping the grunts away with explosions of pink. She brought her SMG and Assault rifle into the fray, those ran out hours ago.

I was behind a collapsed wall firing off my plasma repeater into the endless hordes of Grunts. Armor long past burnt and scorched, getting beyond low with the charge on my repeater, do not want to resort to using the plasma pistol beside me. I ducked behind cover as another round from a Fuel rod cannon destroyed more of the wall protecting my ass from certain death. We don't get some form of support we'll be cooked. I brought my trusty DMR and pistols. Lost the DMR, pistols ran out of ammo but still clung to my hip.

(A/N For Kentucky and Michagin's armor, think Halo Reach's armor customization. Both Kentucky and Michagin are my own OC. Only here to show up, kick some ass, then die.)

"Son of a Bitch, I thought this was suppose to be a simple OP. Not a fucking fight to the last man standing." Kentucky complained as he blasted away into the endless hordes with his Plasma turret. HAZOP helmet with a silver visor. Breacher chestpiece CQB shoulder pads and FJ/para knee pads. He was taller then Rhode yet stood shorter then myself. Heavier set man if I must be blunt, not as bad as Griff but in that same ballpark. Color scheme was more velvet red with a gold trim. He was effectivly the squad's demolition expert. You want something destroyed in a hellfire inferno, you call him first. Went into this op with a grenade launcher, pistol, enough explosives to put the Taliban to shame, and his own personal Fury nuke. How he got that I will never know, why he always had it I don't know and don't want to know why. Where he even got one I don't want to know either. Now he is long past out of ammo, explosives all used up by now with the exception of his personal nuke, explosives armed to blow the ONI site to hell, and is now going Rambo on the Covenant. He was not spared from the torment of plasma hurling all around us. Countless segments of his undersuit were burnt down to the skin, chest piece littered with holes and begun melting in some areas. That didn't stop him from laying down a seemingly endless rain of plasma fire.

"Shut the hell up Kenny. We beat them before we can do it again." Michigan noted. He was more suited for flying instead of fighting, since why he was out pilot out of here if our damn Pelican get blown to bits. Pilot Helmet with a black tinted visor, assault sapper chest plate, same leg armor as Kentucky. Michigan was, for a lack of better terms, the designated driver. His job was to get us in the OP zone, and get us out. Because Alpha team didn't blow up the anti-air guns on our way out in time; Carolina, South, York, North. We are now neck deep in the thickest part of the covenant army. No other choice but to fight. He brought a battle rifle and shotgun to the fight, now he was left fending them off with a beam rifle. We are well beyond screwed at this point, as in if we don't get an EVAC like right freaking now we'll be Jackle chow.

For some god forsaken reason the Director chose me to lead the operation. Now I know next to nothing about military logistics, but picking the new guy who has been training for all of two months (Who can barely shot straight, and can't have tactical thinking worth a damn) to be a squad leader; that kind of screams idiotic to me. Reluctantly I agreed simply because I didn't have any other choice. It was either accept command or call his end of our deal completed. Lose/lose situation for me. Already I made the massive mistake of forgetting to grab the medkit before we had to jump out of the burning pelican. Rhody was more understanding than the other two. Kentucky told me, and I quote 'If I die because you fucked up. Consider your sorry ass haunted.' end quote. Michigan just scuffed it off and went on with the mission. Now here we are; facing an endless sea of plasma and radioactive bombs. Now I am pretty sure I seriously pissed off some divine being. No other way to explain why we're getting hammered with everything they got. Must think we're Spartans and won't take any chances of survival. I pretty much am one, expect for the training. Still working on that.

"How long till that EVAC? We're getitng slaughtered down here!" I yelled firing down the ever growing mountain of dead bodies. My volley hit the unprotected body of a helpless Grunt, it fell over dead and begun sliding down the hill to join the rest of his friends. When I played Halo back home I always wanted to be like a Spartan and slaughter my way though the covenant horde. Now that I'm actually up against the bastards, I want to smack my younger self for being so stupid. Careful what you wish for, it just might come true.

"Johnathan wake up." A familiar voice called from the back of my mind. Can't be Serena, she's home keeping MERC off our asses. I ignored it and kept fighting.

"ETA, three minutes. Landing zone, five hundred meters due east." Michigan replied as a long beam of heated plasma shot forth from the end of his stolen rifle. Couldn't see what it hit but I doubt it would have helped. "Walk that off you stupid lizards. Ohio, what are our orders?"

"You're seriously asking me for orders. If you haven't guessed by now, I'm sucking as team leader." I complained barely dodging a fuel rod cannon blast.

"It's not like we got much of a choice right now. Carolina is too far to be of any use, Rhode doesn't have the mind set for it, Kentucky is too hot headed an stupid. Plus I'm busy playing the role of sniper. You're the closest we got right now." Michigan responded as Kentucky's turret went dead. He threw it into the ever growing pile of bodies and pulled out a plasma rifle from his belt. Well this isn't good. His turret was our best bet at keeping the Grunts at bay. Rhode's rifle clicked dry ad she upholstered her plasma pistol and joined up beside him. Come on Ohio, you can do better then this.

Let's break the situation down. We're practically surrounded, hopelessly out numbered, almost out of ammo, enemy is slowly advancing toward us. Wait a second. Why are they running away? They had us right where they wanted us, yet they're retreating. Is Maine close by with a tank, or did South find the keys to a Destroyer? Either way, if they're running it's good news for us. Means we're not about to be eaten. I looked to the rest of our squad. They were just as confused as I was just by their body language.

"What you just going to run! I was just getting warmed up!" Kentucky yelled waving his plasma rifle in the air. It did little to the retreating army. Rhode let out a sigh of relief as she collapsed in my arms. Poor girl, She's not use to being on the front line or the center of attention. I'll carry her back. Who knows, she might reward me with a kiss.

"Somethings' not right." Michigan stated walking forward and keeping his eye out on everything. "Why would they be running? They had us pinned and were seconds away from destroying us. Why run now when they worked so hard to get us here? Doesn't make any sense." He asked. He's right, If memory serves, Covenant fought to the death 9/10 times. Weird, my motion tracker is still telling me we're surrounded. Something isn't right here. Maximum range is thirty meters on this thing. The main battle group is well beyond that. Can't be true unless . . . . . unless they're cloaked or we're jammed. We need to get out of here NOW!

"Who cares, we live to see another da. . ." Kentucky nearly finished before a blood red sword erupted from his abdomen, then his bio-scan flat lined. Rhode shrieked in terror as Kentucky gurgled on his own blood. Uncloaking behind him was the toughest looking Elite I've ever seen. Countless UNSC dogtags hung by his waist, armor entirely blood red except for the eyes. They were just two black silts. Can't see anything beyond them. The aura of pure death rolled of this guy in waves.

"DENNIS!" Michigan yelled as the Elite tore though Kentucky's shoulder, effectively killing him, before turning his attention toward us. Rhode wasted no time rasing her plasma pistol and pulling the trigger as fast as she could. The tiny bolts of green molten goo hit the shields but did little as he slowly and menacingly walked over the dead body of our team mate, and lunged at us. I tackled Rhode so she dodged out of the way as his sword. Michigan raised his rifle to fire, only to have it sliced in half as the massive Elite turned to salvage the attack. He barely moved away from the tip of the blade and threw his now useless beam rifle to the side, dawning a needler instead.

"Johnathan, you're having another nightmare. Wake up!" The voice from earlier yelled louder. I ignored it and raised my repeater for action. Time for revenge.

"Unleash hell Beta squad!" I ordered opening fire with my repeater as did Rhode with her plasma pistol.. The elite growled as he ignited another blood red sword, using them to deflect and block most our rounds as he charged toward us. Rhode ducked out of the way just in time as one nearly took her head off, I stupidly raised my rifle hoping it would block the blow. The blade passed though the rifle as if it were butter and narrowly missed me by a hair. I could feel the heat radiating off it by how close it missed me. Michigan let loose a unmerciful fury of Blamite crystals. Rhode rolled to the side and begun overcharging her pistol. The Elite clicked his mandibles as she let the overcharge loose, I don't speak Elite so I can't tell if he's taunting us or calling for help. Good news, every round hit and broke the shields. Bad news, it pissed him off. He turned and swung his sword in a wide arc. Rhode jumped back as quickly as she could to avoid the sword strike, but she wasn't fast enough.

The blade sliced across her chest in a shower of sparks. Rhode yelled in agony as she stumbled backward, holding her chest while crying out in pain. Not good, Bio-scan shows that the blade passed though her ribs and sliced a few open. She needs a doctor quick. I charged as the Elite went in for another strike, right before Michigan jumped on his back and unsheathed his combat knife, plunging it deep in the monster's neck. That did little as the alien dropped one of his swords and reached behind him, grabbing Michigan by the back of his neck, and throwing him into me. We both fell to the ground and skid across it. That was not painless, not one bit. Rhode forced herself up and kept firing bolt after bolt from her plasma pistol, missing every shot but the Elite got the message.

"So the female still has some fight left in her." He taunted clicking something in his native tongue, ripping the knife from his neck. What does it take to kill this thing? Rhode used the wall as leverage as she kept the pistol between him and her. Not that it will do much good. I was the first one up and charged head first toward the bastard. The Elite laughed as he roundhouse kicked me back to the ground, and throwing the knife at Rhode as she fired an overcharged bolt. The blade went though her arm and pinned her to the wall, while the bolt just knocked down the shields that just recharged. Mich forced himself to get up as the Elite picked me up by my neck and threw me though a wall. I cried out in pain as I smashed though the thick concrete head first. South always said I had a thick skull but this is ridiculous. I tried to get up but half the damn wall fell on top of me, forcing me to stay down. Mich threw one foot in front of the other and went full speed. I tried to call out to order him back but it was already too late. The Elite dodged his first strike and punched him hard across the helmet, sending fragments of glass all over the place, cracking the massive visor. Mich got back into a cobra position and ready to strike. The Elite still scuffed as if this was more then child's play, lowered his sword and preformed the almost universal 'bring it on' motion. I used my robot arm to try and push the thick slab off my chest, just as Mich charged once more, Fist balled up and threw his first punch. The Elite caught it mid air and twisted his arm back.

"Pathetic. You're suppose to be a challenge, yet a mere Kig-Yar is more of a test than you vermin." He taunted, then with one quick motion of his sword, sliced Michigan's arm clean off just before the shoulder. Mich fell to the ground cried in agony, trying to hold the burnt nub of his arm.

"Micheal no!" Rhode yelled as she tugged in vain at the knife pinning her to the wall. I grunted and groaned as I tried pushing the two ton slab of cement off my chest. Damn this thing is heavy. The Elite racked his energy blade across the floor as he slowly made his way to the dismembered form of Michigan, who managed to suppress his pain and held out a fallen plasma pistol. Those things are absolute crap alone, but beyond annoying when in hordes.

"The pest still wishes to fight, even after I took his arm." The Elite taunted as Mich let loose a barrage of plasma bolts, that did pretty much nothing to the shields as the Elite swung his sword again,slicing his hand off this time. He yelled out in agony as the Elite kicked him once more. Readying his sword for one final strike.

Freelancer Dorm room; RWBY sub-verse

Reality

I bolted straight up from my bed, screaming in absolute terror, drenched in sweat. Serena was catapulted from on top of me into the wall, then on the floor. Rhode yelped from the sudden wake up call and fell face first out of her bed. Rosa and Azula barked in surprise, Azula up and scanning the room for anything hostile, while Rosa tried to get up off her back. Elaia struggled to hold on her her blanket as she tumbled over the edge of her bed next. I brushed my hand though my sweat soaked hair and looked around me, trying to control my erratic and labored breathing. Arm was still on the night stand. Rosa barked as she finally got on her two feet again and pounced over to Serena, nudging her arm to help her up. Rhode groaned in agony as she held her head.

"You okay Johnathan? What happened?" Serena asked rubbing her head. Simple fuzzy pink sleep pants and a larger then her size blue t-shirt. Why was she over me? Then again, I could have been tossing and turning more then usual. I hope she didn't break anything.

"I'm fine. Just a bad dream." I lied finally managing to control myself once again. That's the third one in the past month. They're getting more realistic and longer each time. I'm running low on those little red pills for them to keep coming up like this.

"Bad dream, my fat butt. No simple bad dream makes you scream like that." Rhode replied, hair up in curlers and wearing her new favorite tan night wear. "What was it about this time?" She asked.

"Our first mission." I softly replied wiping the sweat from my eyes. Rhode's expression changed quickly from pained to concerned. She knows exactly what happened that day, she knows the pain I deal with every night better then most.

"Micheal and Dennis's deaths?" She asked. I nodded as Rosa gave a low purr and nudged my robot arm into my hand. I picked it up and brought it back into it's intended place. It beeped and clicked to let me know it was locked. Flexed my fingers a little bit, everything works like normal. Rhode gave a defeated sigh as she sat back on her bed. "Ohio there was nothing you could have done. We were hopelessly out gunned, exhausted, beyond out numbered by an insane margin, out of ammo . . ."

"I was the squad's leader, I should have done better." I replied as Elaia climbed back into bed, wearing her new set of Grimm pajamas. I let out a deep breath and looked at the time. 3:04am. About the right time I wake up from a night terror. Mu popped up on my shoulder with a concerned look.

"Johnathan, you've been beating yourself up over that for the past three years. Yes you could have done better. But for something on the spot; with no prior tactical training and barely four months of basic Freelancer training. You did alright compared to most." Mu tried to inform sitting down on my shoulder. Forgot she can become solid with my Sembalance. Small side effect of her pretty much living in my head. Would that technically classify me as insane? If not then I don't know what will. "Don't blame yourself, You done the best you could. Blame the Director for forcing you into a position you were beyond obviously not ready for at the time."

"Gee, Thanks Mu. I'll be sure to remember that." I replied with my voice laced heavily with sarcasm. Rhode wanted to talk again but the knock on our door caught all our attention. "It's not locked." I yelled out. Opening the door was none other then Yang, hair in a wild mess. Purple bags under her eyes as she rubbed one. Her eyes weren't red so I'm not dead yet.

"Johnny, this is third time in the past month. And it's three in the morning." She started letting out a long yawn. "I get you've seen or done things you rather forget completely, but for the sake of all our sanity; Please go see a doctor."

"Yang, let's think for a minute." I replied as Azula huffed herself back to sleep. "What doctor in this universe is going to believe a single word I say?"

Me and my big mouth. It's barely three thirty in the morning and Goodwitch locks me in a room with Oobleck. Wasn't too bad all things considered. Spacious enough to where I can stretch and not hit the roof, bland red walls with a window over looking the main court yard. Oobleck sat on a chair with a pen and paper, dressed up in his usual attire. I laid down in a rather confortable therapy chair. Serena pretty much dragged me here kicking and screaming. RWBY, JNPR, and Rhode help her while Goodwitch got Oobleck up. There is a very good reason I don't do therapy. For example, last therapist I went to stormed out of the room after an hour. Apparently my wonderful and forced adventure to a few anime systems was too much for him. Little advice many people can't seem to get though their thick skulls. Cute girls should never be anywhere close to anything with tentacles. EVER! Let's just say my swords did a lot of talking in those universes.

"Okay mister Grey, You seem to be suffering from night terrors if Miss Goodwitch is correct." He asked. Oobleck was the closest doctor in this school who might not send me to the insane asylum. Granted his PHD is in history, but Goodwitch assured me he has dabbled in Psychology. It's the best I got right now, only time will tell how good it will be.

"On top of other things, yes." I replied running my hands though my hair. "They're getting worse the longer I'm here, more realistic and personal. Tonights was on my first failure as a leader." I'm running dangerously low on miso-olanzapine. Some sort of anti psychotic drug used by Spartan-III Gamma company to counteract the effects of some other drug that lets them ignore pain. No idea if it is illegal here or not, I'm going to have to go back to he Infinity and bargin for more. Palmer will most likely send me on a extermination mission in return for them. She loves sending me on those.

"I understand you've been in numerous military like engagements in the past, on top of the questionable things MERC's done. Correct?" He asked.

"Correct. Freelancer's methods of . . . pretty much everything were questionable. From our missions, to training, to our equipment, everything." I replied. "MERC is on a different level; the gross employee under payment, somewhat unsafe living condition, unethical methods of keeping employees."

"Tell me, what's the earliest memory you can recall about this problem?" He asked clicking his pen ready to write.

"Let's see, it all started right after my augmentation surgeries. . . . . ."

(Hours later)

" . . . . . . . and I was left alone once more. An endless sea of monsters, horridly low on ammo, only had my swords to protect me. I was forced to kill my way out. Some how managed to do it, left few alive during one of my 'episodes'. They took my friends from me, I took at least a few thousand of them before I fell to exhaustion. Some nights I can still hear her disemboweled screams, her voice ring in my ears as fresh as when they spoke them. Punishing me for not being strong enough . . . for not protecting her. No one deserves to be slowly ripped apart and eaten alive by those beasts." I said wrapping up the month before I got trapped here. Oobleck nodding and writing down everything on his little note pad, which was rapidly running out of paper. I laid my head back down on the pillow and look back up at the ceiling. "Some nights I lay awake and wonder why I'm even here. Why do I keep living while those I love die around me constantly? What makes me more deserving for life then them? Is there a higher power controlling the multiverse, with a plan for me. By all means I shouldn't even exist. Me nor Serena should, in any universe. Yet we do for some reason. Does that mean we got a higher purpose in life, or are we simply a by-product of some space-time tear mishap between our parents. Would this world be better off if I never existed? Would Velvet be happier being with someone from this world instead of the monster I am if I never showed up?" I asked letting out a deep huff in frustration. "The things I've done, the lives I've ruined, the things I've been apart of ,or helped set in motion. I'll be honest, I don't think I'll ever get all the way back to good, not anywhere close in my life time. Always making things worse, always gaining scars that can never heal. No matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I fight to protect others, in the end I'm always the one digging the graves."

"I must say, that's . . . . quite a lot to have to go though at such a young age." Oobleck informed cleaning his glasses. "Never in all my years of teaching have I come across someone so broken on the inside. I'm not entirely sure on how to go about repairing that much damage. Not sure where to even begin."

"And there lies the reason why I don't go to the doctor too often." I answered watching the ceiling fan go around and around.

"Tell me, does your friends or family know about half your problems?" He asked.

"Serena knows to a point. I keep Elaia out of that loop as much as possible. Best she don't see her father figure in such a wreak. Mu I can't hide anything from. She is quite literally in my head half the time, hard to keep secrets from her. She tried to mend the wounds but there are just so many, some running deep and blistering." I responded. "Everyone else doesn't know too much. RWBY, JNPR, CFVY, I try keeping them out of it to spare them the pity. Hate it when people pity me, makes me feel so weak and useless."

"Sounds like they're more important to your mental stability then I thought." He noted setting his notepad aside. "I'm going to go talk to Glynda real quick. Let her know what's going on." He said getting up and calmly walking to the door. Just as I figured, I sent another one running. This happens every time. I closed my eyes and tried to listen in on what they were talking about on the other side. Not really enhanced hearing, more like selective hearing. Trying to filter out everything else and listen in only on them.

"How is he Oobleck? Can he be fixed?" Glynda asked.

"You want the honest answer or the nice one because he can hear us?" He asked back.

"Honest. Don't leave out a single detail. I want to know everything you can deduce from that small talk." She answered.

"You remember how Taiyang was when Summer died?" He asked. "Imagine that same experience, multiplied by nine at least, and cram it in a short two to three year span. On top of that, you got numerous last man standing style engagements, who knows how many friend's deaths, and working for a company that makes the Schnee's look like absolute saints. I won't even mention his training at Freelancer which is even worse then you can imagine."

"So he's beyond our help?" She asked.

"I didn't say that. His mental integrity is like a dam. Holding back all the rage, madness, and anguish that come with all that trama. His friends and family are the only things holding that fragile dam together." He explained.

"So what do we do? We can't have him waking everyone up with his nightmares." She asked.

"I'm not sure what we can do. But I do know that we must keep a close eye on him. If that dam breaks, I pray Monty will have mercy on the poor souls who break him." He noted in a grim and dark tone.

"He's a time bomb?" She asked.

"In a way, yes. But I think periodic therapy sessions should keep it under control. Or at least manageable till he figures out what he wants to do. If he stays, we'll figure out something from there. Till then, best we stick to weekly sessions. Who knows, maybe he'll be one hell of a hunter." Oobleck responded. They're actually trying to help me? Honestly trying to help. Finally, someone who doesn't want to throw me in the crazy bin or run away screaming. I couldn't help but stiff a smile. Maybe staying here wouldn't be too bad. The pros are getting longer the more I stay and think about it. Perhaps this will be by chance at a new life. Lord knows I fucked up my old one. I'll get the other's input after words. I'll worry about the Meta and Emily later, now is the first steps toward progress. Toward becoming human again.

Hours earlier

(Meta's POV)

Neo walked out of the shower with a pink towel wrapped around her body, hiding everything from view. She took the longest to wash away the carnage off her body. Most of that time I think was just for her hair alone. I took mine earlier and was out in not even half an hour. She took more along the lines of three. I sat on my oversized bed, sharpening my bruteshot's blade with a whetstone. Got to keep her blade nice and sharp. Always keep my weapons in top condition. Take care of your weapons, they'll take care of you on the battle field.

"Dear lord. Good the munchkin is done with the shower. I was growing tired of watching Maine work on his beloved weapon." Omega whined from my scroll on the nightstand. For some unknown reason, our bosses decided Neo and I should share a room to save space. No idea what was going though their heads but if this is their version of a joke, then my baby is going to be doing a lot of talking soon. Still; If she would just keep to herself and not actively try pissing me off, then it wouldn't be too bad. Shared a space with women before back at Freelancer, nothing new to me. Still funny when Rhode woke up to North snuggling her, or when Ohio found himself in my bunk by mistake one day. Struck the fear of god into him. One knuckle crack, and he bolted out of there in a heartbeat. Neo is a little harder to intimidate. For one, she is fearless and often uses her illusions to trick me. Hopefully our truce is still in effect. Other wise this is going to be a long and aggravating next few months.

Room itself was spacious enough. Two beds, mine bigger and rather plain, hers pink and brown. Weapon rack to hold our stuff. Few odds and ends from this originally being her living space. Everything had the brown, pink, and white feel to it. What is with this woman and her fetish for neapolitan ice cream? One pass with the whetstone later and I felt Neo tapping my shoulder. I looked up to see her handing me her scroll.

Neo: Can you leave the room for a minute? I got to get dressed.

Tough shit, should have done that while you were in the bathroom. I ain't moving so you'll have to either do it in the bathroom or do it with me here. It's not that I'm perverted, it's just that I'm suborn and refuse to be ordered around on a whim. Then again, what would Grace think about my behavior then? She would be pissed at me and threaten to smack me upside the head with a frying pan till I left . . . . or if she were Grace, then she'd seduce me into the bed and let the chips fall where they may. She may act a bit like Grace, even look a tiny bit like her, but I know Neo isn't Grace in any shape or form. I growled and handed her my response.

Meta: Only because I don't want others to get the wrong impression.

Neo: What, Am I not sexy enough for you?

Oh you want to pull that card on me. Alright then you little dwarf. Bring it on.

Meta: I don't fuck children. I may be many things, but a pedophile is not one of them.

That comment shut her up. Well made her puff out her cheek like she was pouting if her eyes were any indication I pissed her off. Kind of adorable. To add insult to the injury, I ruffled the top of her hair. That seemed to put her over the edge as she literally pounced as my back was turned. I was forced to take a step backward as she wrapped her arms around my neck and legs around my waist. I can tell I hit a sensitive spot on that one. Note to self: She does not like to be called a child. Another note to self: ruffling her hair only serves to aggravate her more. Useful notes if I'm going to survive near her.

"Sigma get the popcorn! Things just got interesting." Omega yelled from the nightstand. I reached back around to try to grab her, only for her to bite my hand. I recoiled from the bite and charged back first into the wall. She let out a huff n pain as she held on tighter, trying to strangle me in death grip of some sort. I reached back again and grabbed the little brat by the back of her neck and ripped her off me. Throwing her on her bed to try to calm the little munchkin down, little did I know she threw out my leg with something from her nightstand, knocking me down with her. We landed on her bed in the most awkward position. If someone were to walk in on us now, We'd be a laughing stop.

"She's a fiesty one. Hey Meta! I thought that was suppose to be reserved till after the third date!" Gamma teased as Omega joined in on the laughter. I landed on top of her, face inches from her neck . . . . with her towel on the floor and not on her. Want to talk about awkward, this would take the cake by a mile. I bolted to get up and turned away from her. Once again, I may be many things. I don't want to add rapist to that list. Neo just giggled as her foot steps were apparent enough behind me. Her arms wrapped around my gut. Please tell me she isn't tying what I think she is. I looked back enough to see only her face and nothing more. Strange. Her eyes weren't full of malicious humor or ill intent, but more of desperation. She handed me her scroll with only two words on it. Two simple words that changed everything right there.

Neo: Please Meta?

"Damn, things got raunchy quickly." Sigma noted. "Why don't you two give them their privacy?"

"Come on Sigma. We're dying of boredom here. Teasing them is the closest thing we got to entertainment." Gamma whined. I grabbed my scroll and stuffed it in the drawer. I would be lying if I said she wasn't cute. Been forever since I've done anything of 'that' nature. I turned back around to give Neo an answer, but was cut off by her throwing herself at me and forcing me into the bed. Things just got a whole lot more intresting.

Hours later

Bang, Bang, Bang!

"Meta, Neo! Open up!" Roman yelled out from the other side of the door. I only growled in annoyance as the door was flung open. "It's long past time you two get up and we got a lot of work to . . . oh Monty Oum, what did you two do!" To say he walked in at a bad time would be a understatement. Neo was beside me under the covers, happily smiling as she slept to me. I sat up with my hands above my head, cigar in my mouth, wearing the biggest shit eating grin in this universe. Room was a disaster. Clothes all over the place, bed in a mess, doesn't take a super genius to figure out what happened between us. I'll admit it was quite enjoyable. We both agreed it was a one night thing, nothing more. Roman's face was flush as Neo stirred next to me. "On second thought. I don't want to know. Get dressed and be ready in an hour. I got to go somewhere else, think I heard one of the mutts call for my help." With that he ran out of there as quick as he could. Neo looked up at me questioning. I shrugged my shoulder and tapped the cigar over a ashtray. Neo smiles as she handed her scroll over. How did she get to it when it was halfway across the room?

Neo: One more round?

Meta: Don't need to ask me twice.

A/N And we're done here. Filled in more of Johnathan's past while providing a little more Meta X Neo fluff. Though it wasn't fluff. Left a lot to the imagination. Don't leave a review on what you think happened. I don't want to know with how the internet is. Next chapter will include the Metal Gear. Going to cover 'a minr hiccup' and 'Painting the town'. Thought I got two death battle questions for you all. Who would win a fight between a Metal Gear Rex and a Halo Scarab? Or a Halo Mantis to level things a bit? Close quarters, confined to a city. Just a thought that has been in the back of my mind. So far no reviews.

So I'm handing this over to my beta and hopefully we'll be bale to continue on with the story before it gets too long. I want this ended before 50 chapters. Even if I have to make the chapters a lot longer and wait longer between updates. What do you guys thing? Shorter chapters but more updates and a longer story, or longer chapters with less updates and a somewhat shorter story? I'll let you decide because I am dead tired with work in the morning. Also if anyone is reading this in america. Congrats to Trump on his victory. Whoop dee fucking do. Glad bullshit season is finally over with for at least four years. I didn't vote for him but i'll be open minded and give him a chance. He does bad, we kick him out in four years put someone new in. He does good, we put him in another four. Only time will truly tell (Don't let the review section become a political bullshit battleground. I get enough of that at work. This is where I go to get away from the bullshit drama of American politics). Peace out.

~Dgreen20

(Insert Beta notes here)