#john-117/reader

[sweethoneyjazzeuphoria]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Halo (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John-117 | Master Chief/Reader, Kai-125 (Halo)/ Original Male Character(s) Characters: Reader, Kai-125 (Halo), Miranda Keyes, Riz-028 (Halo), Original Female Character(s), John-117 (mentioned) Additional Tags: girls night, Sleepovers, Movie Night, featuring The Princess Bride, it's still a thing in this time because I say so, Gossip, Talk of relationships, Kai's beau is from ageless-aislynn's Recreation, talk of partner preferences, Riz is gay, becuase the idea got stuck in my head somehow, Doctor Keene makes a reappearance, some mild foul language, This one was a lot of fun, Poor Reader gets teased, Dialogue Heavy Series: Part 4 of Why You? Well, It's Because... Summary:

Girls night is here! Riz is very droll, Miranda is a bit of a mom-friend, Kai is way too energetic, and you spend the whole night somewhere between laughing your ass off and mildly mortified.

The next installment is here! And this time including inspiration from Recreation by @ageless-aislynn! Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox, this has been way too fun and continues to give me way too many ideas!

[empresskadia]

You: If I died-

John, cleaning his weapon: Death will not get you out of this relationship

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - learning new feelings with you

Saw that you would start writing for Master Chief. I finished watching it like a week ago so this is a funny coincidence😂. Maybe a Master Chief (John-117) x reader with this prompt ��Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?” from your 2024 prompts. So many of the 2024 prompts would be great for him. You don't have to write this if you don't won't to as always of course.( •◡-)-♡ - Anon💜

Sitting at your desk, you flicked through some of the files on the tablet you were holding, taking a sip of your tea that was sat in front of you.

There was a knock on the door and you looked up.

“Come in.” You called.

The door was opened, and you smiled a little bit at the Spartan and your cell doctor who came through the door.

“Miranda, Master Chief, what brings you here?” You asked.

The Spartan took a seat in a chair on the other side of the room, and Miranda walked over to you.

“I’m sorry Doctor, I know you’re very busy but John has been injured, and he refuses medical assistance. I thought maybe you could convince him to get help.”

You nodded, standing up from your desk.

“I’ll see that the chief is safe. Thank you for bringing him here.”

She smiled, heading out of your office and you turned around to John, walking over you took a seat in front of him.

“Why are you refusing medical care Master Chief?”

“I don’t know who I can trust, who I can’t trust.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You’ve been having an influx of emotions since you removed the pellet from your back, these are emotions you have never felt before so you don’t know how to process them, that’s okay.”

You leant over the table, tapping a finger against the helmet over his head.

“However, refusing medical assistance when it’s needed is not okay. It’s dangerous to put yourself in that situation.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, may you remove your helmet please? Show me where the injury is.”

John reached up, carefully pulling his helmet off, setting it on the floor next to his foot.

He looked up, his eyes connecting with yours, and you pulled a torch out from your pocket, flashing it over his eyes.

“Follow my finger.”

He did as you said, and you carefully turned his head from side to side to ensure that there was no pain or restriction with his movements.

“You’ll need a few stitches, but otherwise you’ll be fine. I can have somebody from the medical team come up and sort that out.”

“No.”

“No?”

You turned around to look at John, setting your tablet back down, showing him that you were listening to what he was saying.

“Do you not want the medical team to do it?”

“No.”

“Alright, I won’t call for them.”

Walking across your office, you grabbed a first aid box you kept in there and walked back over, taking what you would need out.

John didn’t say anything as you placed your hand on the side of his face, turning it just a little bit so you could work on stitching the wound on the side of his head.

“I hope you know that I’m no medical doctor Chief, so this will be a dodgy job at best.”

“I know.”

You hummed a little bit, remember what you had learnt a long time ago as you fixed up his injury for him.

When you were done, you bagged everything up, took your gloves off and set it all aside, sanitising your hands.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” John replied.

You turned around to look at him.

“Do you feel you can trust me?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to know why you refuse medical attention, why Miranda brought you here to see me.”

John clasped his hands together, leaning his head down to run his hands over it, letting out a small breath.

You didn’t pressure him, you simply walked back over to sit in front of him once more.

“Chief?”

He looked up at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me of you don’t want to, okay? I’m not here to force you into anything you don’t want okay? Remember this is a safe place.”

“I need to go.”

“Alright, that’s okay. If you do want to talk though just come and see me, my door is always open for you.”

He nodded his head, picked up his helmet and left, and you walked back to your desk.

You had a good idea as to why he decided to come to you instead.

After touching the object they had found, he’d glad glimpses of what you believed were memories, he’d learned he was stolen away from his family.

He wasn’t very trusting after finding out it was the very same doctor whom been with him and the pet her Spartans this whole time.

The only constant thing he had right now was you and the other Spartans, he had demanded to see your file to make sure you weren’t in on it as well, and you showed him.

You never hid anything from him.

So, if you had to guess, he was a little more trusting of you than any of the other doctors, and he felt more comfortable with you than the people who were usually poking and prodding at him after missions if he was hurt.

You had a few sessions with some of the marines, spending some times with them, talking to them and listening to their concerns or fears.

As late afternoon came around, you were walking around your office to stretch your legs, and there was a knock on your door before it opened.

“Doctor?”

You hummed, turning around, smiling at John as he came back through.

“How can I help?”

He quietly closed the door, standing to attention, hands clasped behind his back as if he were reporting to a supervisor.

“You seem to make sense of things when nobody else can. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“Let’s take a seat and have a talk, yeah?”

He sat down, and you sat down opposite him.

He began to explain everything to you, sometimes pausing to find the right words or think about what he was saying.

He didn’t say much, and he stopped speaking to look at you.

“Do you understand what it is?” He asked.

“I do, yes. When we’re young we are taught how to handle our emotions, process them. Our parents teach us first, how to appropriately react to emotions. Does that make sense?”

John shook his head.

“Well, when I was a kid when I was angry I used to break things or throw things. My mom gave me a cup of water, but I was angry because she wouldn’t give me my favourite snack, so I threw the cup and broke it.”

John furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Over a snack?”

You laughed a little bit.

“Kids will do anything for their favourite snacks.”

You smiled at him.

“My mom put me in time out while she cleaned it up, then she came over, explained to me when I was angry I should never throw things, or hit people. When you’re angry you shouldn’t speak to people, and you should never go to bed angry.”

He slowly nodded his head.

“Our teachers continue these teachings, the grown ups in our lives help us learn about this emotions, how to handle them and how to process them. You never had that option, you had your emotions taken away from you.”

“Kai seems to be adjusting…”

“Kai is deflecting, Kai is finding things to occupy herself, but there will come a time where she will be forced to face the emotions she doesn’t know about yet. Grief, loss, pain, you’ll experience them as well.”

John raised his gaze from his hands to look at you.

“It’s hard to point which emotion it is you’re feeling, but if I had to guess I would assume perhaps anger, and confusion mixed into one.”

“What do I do? How do I make it go away?”

You gave him a sad smile.

“You can’t make them go away, you can push them down, but one day you will need to process them. There are different ways to doing this, and I can guide you, but I can’t process them for you, this needs to be something you do yourself.”

“What do I do?”

Getting up, you walked over to your desk and picked up a bit of paper, walking back over to him and you sat down next to him.

You were much smaller than he was, even sitting next to him on the couch it was clear that you were smaller than him.

You held it out to him and he took it.

“I keep this list for anybody who needs help figure out how to process their emotions. It’s a list of things that may help you. From going to the gym, writing letters, then there’s taking a step back from your current situation, go for a walk, find somewhere quiet to sit and just be you.”

“What do you do?”

“Well, I wait until the weekends, then I leave reach, and I go for a hike nearby. Around this time of year there’s my favourite place where all the flowers are in bloom, and I just sit there, sometimes I read, other times I just listening to the birds. I enjoy the escape of nature.”

John nodded his head, setting the paper down on his table.

“I decided to come here because I trust you.” He said quietly.

You smiled softly.

“Well, I’m glad you can. But Chief?”

You turned his head down to look at you.

“Next time please go to medical, it could be something serious. If you don’t like going there, you can get somebody to call for me and I’ll come with you, alright?”

“Why?”

You smiled softly at him, placing a hand on his arm, patting it a few times.

“Because you trust me, if that means I have to come to medical with you to make sure they don’t run any unnecessary tests, and make sure you’re alright I’ll do that.”

He nodded, and you got up, making your way back to your desk to put the paper away.

“Spartans were conditioned to only bond with other Spartans.” John said.

You looked over at him.

“I… don’t understand how to interact with other people.”

“That’s alright, you can learn if you want to. I’ll be going to my hike tomorrow if you would like to come along, I think it may help you.”

Taking another slip of paper, you wrote down a time and a place and walked over, handing it to him.

“I’ll be here, I’ll wait around for you, but you can find me there every weekend.”

He nodded, taking it from you and he left without another word.

The following day, just like you said, you waited for John, and he turned up a few minutes later, dressed in his work out uniform.

He usually wore it under his suit, so it made sense as to why he was wearing it now, they were most likely the only clothes he owned aside from his armour.

“How long does it take to get there?”

“Not long, we’ll need to stop to buy some water first.”

He nodded his head, following you to the shop, and you grabbed a couple of bottles of water, along with some food for lunch, paid for them and put them in your bag.

You and John made your way there, and you began walking the trail you walked every weekend.

“Doctor?”

“You can call me (Y/N), we’re not at the office. We’re friends right?”

“Friends?”

You smiled brightly.

“Well, you come by my office enough to not be friends at this point. I’ve never had somebody willingly come to my office so many times.”

He stayed quietly for a few moments, just searching around the trial.

He was looking around for threats, you knew that.

“How do I know what emotions are what?”

“Well, it depends on the person I suppose. And the emotion, take love for example, there are different kinds. Parental love, the love between a person and their parental figure, or parent and child. Then there’s plutonic love, the bond between friends, then you have romantic love, the love, the connection between two people who want to spend the rest of their their lives together.”

“How do you know the difference?”

You stopped walking, crouching down to look at some blue flowers that were blooming from the grass.

John knelt next to you to look at what you were looking at.

“Well, you have a plutonic love for the other Spartans, you’ll protect them, but just because you have to, but because they’ve essentially become your family.”

You looked up at him.

“Parental love, I’m not to sure how you’ve experienced that if you have. As a child I know you would have, and in time perhaps that’ll come back to you.”

You stood up, carrying on your walk, shifting the bag on your back and little uncomfortably.

John placed a larger hand on your shoulder, and he held his other hand out to you.

Taking the bag from your back you passed it over to him, letting him swing it over his shoulder.

“Thanks, it was getting a little heavy.” You laughed.

“Do you always bring so much?”

“Not always, but there’s two of us this time.”

“I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”

“Hey, come on chief, don’t say that. You’re never an inconvenience.”

John glanced at you.

“Why do you call me chief?”

“What would you prefer me to call you?”

He thought for a moment.

“I will call you (Y/N), only if you call me John.”

You smiled brightly up at him.

“Alright John.”

You carried on walking, every so often stopping to admire something and John would just stand there was stare at you.

He watched you carefully, not able to fully relax, put that sense that there was always a threat behind him.

As you reached a fork in the path, you took the one to the left, and soon enough you were surrounded by trees in full bloom, a sea of pink and white petals all over.

You walked to the middle and sit down, resting your hands behind you as you looked around.

“Why do you stop to look at everything?”

John sat in front of you, setting the bag between the pair of you.

“Well, it’s always important to take time to admire things you consider beautiful, for me, I find beauty in nature, the simple things that are all around us. I love it.”

John nodded a little.

“You never told me about romantic love. What is that like?”

“Well, again it’s different for everybody.”

“What is it for you?”

You were curious about his sudden curiosity about feelings, because the whole time since he removed his pellet he hadn’t shown much interest around them.

“John, can I ask why you’re suddenly curious?”

“Miranda says I love somebody. I don’t understand what that means.”

“Ah, I see. Well, for me it’s the little things that somebody does, what they like, the way they laugh, or the way they might make a small noise when they stretch. For me it’s about all the little things, not the big gestures. I don’t care about them, I’d take flowers over expressive dinner, walks instead of going to shows or things like that.”

John nodded his head.

He just sat there studying you, his eyes solely focused on you, watching your every move.

There was a reflection of the flowers in your eyes, and a warmth in your smile.

“How do I know if I love somebody?”

“Well, you could experience a need or want to be with this person, be next to them at all times. You’ll want to learn everything about them, it could be a tightness in your chest when you see them, a need to protect them. There’s a lot of different tells.”

“What do I do?”

You smiled.

“You could tell them, ask them on a date.”

John nodded his head, watching as you got up from where you were sat.

Walking over to one of the trees you stood under one of them, looking up through the blooming flowers.

John got up, walking after you and he stood behind you.

He watched your pointless attempt to try and reach them, there was no way you could teach them, but he could, so he reached up and took one of the flowers, giving it to you.

He enjoyed the close proximity to you, he didn’t know much about anything other than fighting, but he knew he liked having you nearby. He had an urge to keep you safe, and he liked seeing you smile.

“I love you.”

You snapped your eyes to him, head tilted back as you stared at him in pure shock.

John stared right back at you, his soft gaze focused solely on you, neither of you saying a work.

“Chief!”

He turned around, and you did the same thing, stepping from behind his larger frame.

“We have to go now.” Kai said.

John nodded his head, turning around to look at you.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please let me know you have returned home safely.”

You slowly nodded, just watching d he jogged away but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head of what he said.

Technically there was nothing wrong with anything going on between the pair of you as he wasn’t a formal patient you were simply doing a friend a favour by helping him.

You had to admit you did like his presence there, and you had wondered about if Spartans dated, held relationships and such.

You didn’t see John for a good few weeks, but the moment he was back after his debrief he made his way to your office and knocked on the door before walking in.

“Master chief?”

He frowned a little.

“I prefer it when you say my name. It sounds different when you say it.”

“Sorry John, what brings you by? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I wanted to see you.”

This made you smile, and you set down some of the books you were holding in your hands.

John walked over, he seemed to reach out for your hand but he hesitated.

“I would like to go on a date with you, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Can I ask you something first?”

He nodded his head, and you reached out, holding his larger hand between your smaller ones.

You had to look up in order to look at him, his head turned down a little bit so he could look at you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

You took a small breath.

“When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Yes. What you described is how I feel when I am around you, I want to explore this feeling, experience it with you. You see me for me, as John, not as master chief, even though you refer to me as master chief.”

You laughed softly, he enjoyed that sound.

“I’ll call you John from now on then.”

John studied you.

“Can you lean down?”

He complied, curiosity in his eyes.

Leaning forward, you pressed a very careful kiss to his cheek.

“Lets start slowly, a coffee date, get to know each other. You’re still learning about yourself, we don’t want to overwhelm you.”

He nodded his head, looking at his hands surrounded in yours, and he realised he had never known such a gentle and careful touch.

He enjoyed the different feelings he had around you, and he wanted to learn more about them, more about you

[ghostlychief]

I gasped really loudly when I saw your post, can I request a thing with our baby girl, Master Chief? Like something cute with him reuniting with his s/o, or just something with him getting all the love?

i'm so glad we are on the same page about master chief being baby girl <3

--

goodnight n go

(you should listen to the slow version of goodnight n go by ariana)

master chief, John 117 x gen!reader

wc: 1473

warnings: none, just excruciating fluff

~*~*~*~

You were used to the wait.

You were used to the constant pining and apprehension that would seep through you every time you watched John walk into those battle ships, never knowing if the glimmer of his armor would be the last thing you would see of him.

Every time he left, you would just hope that he would return, and that you would be in his arms sooner rather than later. You could say that it has gotten slightly easier over the years, since John seemed to be made of luck. He always came back in one piece. Maybe a couple of scratches here or there, but he always came back to you.

Typically, when John was on his missions, you would keep yourself busy by overworking yourself in order to keep your rambling thoughts at bay. At first, your supervisors were wary about how much you were working yourself. But over time, they either gave up trying to convince you to go home, or realized how much it helped you to stay busy, to stay moving. You had to, otherwise you would go crazy just thinking about all of the danger John puts himself in every day. It didn’t matter if he was gone a few days, a week, or even a month. The time he spent away from you always felt like an eternity.

You were now standing in the loading dock, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, hands clasped behind your back, looking out at the runway.

Homecoming days were always your favorite, and you always arrived at the dock much earlier than needed in order to greet the Blue team just as they arrived back on Reach. You’re pretty sure the other Spartans poke fun at John for it, but you couldn’t care less.  

You’ve probably been waiting for a little over forty-five minutes when you finally see that familiar pelican flying towards you. You know it’s him and his team because of the bright red Firebird painted on the nose of the ship.

The ship starts to land and gusts of wind make your hair ruffle, ruining all of the time and effort you put into it to look presentable. You quickly forget about your hair state when the door of the pelican slides open and those familiar Mjolnir shoes peak out, and begin descending the ramp.

John is always the last to exit, so as the other Spartan start to pass you, you briefly acknowledge them with a slight nod, but your eyes never leave the ship. They’re only looking for him.

Finally, finally you see the gold tint of his helmet’s visor and the infamous green glint of his armor.

Your feet have a mind of their own when they start moving towards him, breaking into a light job. Your face breaks into a breathtaking smile and when you finally reach John, you basically crash into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. You hear him slightly laugh through the comms from his helmet, and he returns your hug, lifting you off the ground with ease as he holds you tight.

“Hey, bug.” He sets you down gently, and runs a gloved hand down your head, cupping your cheek. His thumb softly moving back and forth on your warm skin.

You bring your hand up to his, and grasp it as you smile up at him, “Hey, you.”

~*~*~*~

A few hours later you find yourself in front of John’s door, waiting for him to let you in. It’s been a few hours since he touched down on Reach. You gave him some time to un-suit from his armor, debrief HQ, among other things. He’s a busy man, and there’s always at least one official that needs to talk to him.

Luckily for you, the mission he was just on wasn’t super long, and also not as critical as his past missions. Therefore, the debriefs didn���t take up the whole day like they usually do, and he was back at his apartment at a reasonable time (for once).

Which leads you to now, standing at his door, once again rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

The door finally swings open, revealing a smiling John, and he ushers you inside. He places his hand on the small of your back as you walk into his living room, making small talk about your walk over to his place.

It’s evening now, and John has the low lights turned on in his living room, giving the impression that his home is glowing. The comforting atmosphere wraps around you like a blanket as you go to sit down on his couch.

“So, what do you want to do? I have dinner made for us, but afterwards is completely up to you.” You run your hand down his arm, touched that he thought to make dinner for you. He was surprisingly a great chef, something you weren’t expecting when you first started dating.

“That’s an after-dinner worry, let’s eat then figure it out.” John lightly laughs and agrees.

You spend most of dinner asking him about his mission and he tells you all that he can (seeing that most of his missions are classified). It’s one of your favorite pastimes. He’s been all over the galaxy, to so many different planets and places and you love to hear all about these adventures through his eyes. You sometimes wish he would take you with him to these far-off places, no matter how unrealistic that is.

You guys decide to keep it simple and watch a movie after dinner, so you wrap yourselves under two big blankets, and John tucks you under his arm, your head resting on his chest. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing as his chest moves up and down. His steady heartbeat thrums through his chest, once again reminding you that he’s real and not a figment of your imagination. The laundry detergent that lingers on his clothes makes a feeling of ease wash over you because it always reminds you that you’re safe and that he’s here with you and that he’s okay, alive.

Your hand rests on his upper abdomen, and you can feel the taught ridges of his abs underneath his black t-shirt. You absentmindedly trace circles on him with your fingers and you feel his hand do the same on your shoulder. Your leg is thrown over his lap, and there is no inch of you that is not pressed up against John. You are completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, not even a piece of paper could fit between you guys. His hand comes up to rub your hair, and you feel him kiss the crown of your head.

“I missed you a lot, you know.” His chest rumbles as he confesses this and your heart warms at the sentiment, a slight smile pulls at your lips.

You squeeze him, and feel his arm tighten around you. You move to sit up straighter so you can look at him and your hand cups his face, your thumb brushing over the slight stubble that’s grown since he’s been gone.

You confess, “Me too,” then lean in to kiss him.

He deepens the kiss as his hand gently cups the back of your head. You and John exist in this diminutive pocket of time where it’s just you two, and nothing else. You find yourself slipping into this space whenever you’re with him, and never wanting your time here to end. Never wanting to enter the reality in which he leaves again. You push those thoughts away for now though, and just continue to exist as you are with him.

You finally break away from each other, and you smile at him, taking in every detail of his face. Your thumb traces over the scar that starts above his left eye, and continues down the side of his temple. You leave a kiss there.

Next, your eyes flit over to the jagged scar in the hollow of his cheek. Your lips softly press down there, tracing the line of the wound he got many years ago. When you reach the end of it, your lips are at the corner of his, and you place one last kiss there.

You break away, and quietly say, “I’m glad you’re here.” He gives you a longing look, his eyes flitting to yours and his hand smooths down your hair as he replies, “Me too.”

~*~*~*

You and John spend the remainder of the night wrapped up in each other, getting lost in each other’s touches and confessions, finding simple pleasure in just being able to be close to one another.

You think to yourself, the wait is always worth it for moments like these.

[cenittxnadir]

Master Chief Dating Headcanons

It is not news that John is not the most social of the group. Not even from the Blue Team. That position will probably be split between Kelly and Fred. So seeing John in a relationship is something completely new and unexpected, but it was nice to see, especially for the rest of the team who jumped at the opportunity to annoy him. It's not every day you get to outsmart Master Chief.

Leaving this clear, expect a lot of doubts and awkward moments with him, not in a negative way, this is all new to him but he is willing to learn your likes and dislikes while he discovers things that the UNSC has long been in charge of taking away from him.

John can be someone quite serious but behind closed doors and among his fellow Spartans he is one of the most relaxed, you won't see him laughing out loud or being flashy but with you he feels like he can be that child he couldn't be, not in a sense of immaturity but for the first time he feels that there is someone who can take care of him.

Dating Spartan is complicated, no matter what generation is. Everyone has trouble interacting outside of their fellow Spartans. So it is not something that despairs you, you will have to be very patient if you want to have a relationship with them.

In John's case, it's probably you who initiated the physical contact part, he doesn't mention it verbally but he really likes the attention you can give him and the day you told him how much you liked his hugs, he kept asking you if you wanted one He was happy, he felt that he was doing good in the relationship.

Consent for John is something vital, he is not used to being touched in a more intimate way, so all the time he will be asking you if he can hold your hand or hug you. He does not do it out of shyness but rather out of respect for your personal space. The last thing he wants is to bother you and it's the same thing he expects of you.

He's the epitome of a provider, something he didn't even know he was. Not only in the economic and material part. He is a protector by nature, so expect him to be aware of everything that happens with you even if you don't mention anything to him, so be careful trying to lie to him or hide something from him, he probably already knows but he won't tell you anything. Maybe you have your reasons for not telling him, but be very careful with this, he may feel insecure, so it is best to maintain good communication.

Speaking of economics, Spartans do have a salary, most of it goes into savings, since the UNSC provides them with all their needs. So taking this into account and John's military rank, he has a few zeros in his pocket. So when he discovered that many couples gave each other gifts as a sign of affection, he took this method to compensate you every time he had to go on a long mission. Soon after, he practically became your sugar daddy until the gifts were enough and you decided to put a stop to it. You explained him that a hug from him after so long without seeing him was worth more than any material gift.

John, being a protector, will be watching you at any time, not because he distrusts you but because you are important to him and he does not want anything bad to happen to you, he has had enough bad things in his life, you are one of the few good things that has. He can become jealous, but he would not do anything extreme or sick, as long as your life is not compromised, in case something like this happens, he will not hesitate for a second to use all possible means to protect you, even if it means abusing his of position.

In conclusion, you are the most precious thing he has, he will not let anything bad happen to you and that is a promise he made the day you agreed to be with him. Despite his appearance, John has learned to be more relaxed and enjoy the little things more, as long as you are by his side to show him how valuable his effort has been all these years and that now it is his turn to be taken care of by someone else.

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 15

Find the series masterlist

Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!

Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.

Word count: 2.7k

By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough. 

“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”

“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly. 

“You are a difficult man to find.” 

Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter. 

“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg. 

“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.” 

You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever. 

“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”

“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.” 

Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently. 

“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.

“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”

You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!

Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.) 

After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you. 

“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”

You pouted harder but ate in silence. 

Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken? 

“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused. 

Welp. You were dead. 

Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased. 

You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still. 

“Why did you blow up Atriox?” 

The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”

Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”

Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.” 

Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?” 

You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”

Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears. 

“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing. 

Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.” 

Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.

But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control. 

The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep. 

Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened. 

So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.

“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.

“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”

You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint. 

You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it. 

Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement. 

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you. 

“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches. 

John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.” 

John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”

You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind. 

You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time. 

John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched. 

You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head. 

That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him. 

It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably. 

John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow. 

But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.

You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you. 

“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain. 

“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward. 

You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at. 

And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped. 

“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile. 

“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”

You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still. 

Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.” 

“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch. 

“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably. 

“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.” 

“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you. 

Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast. 

You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help. 

A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled. 

“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern. 

“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely. 

Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once. 

“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.” 

That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled. 

“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?” 

“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.” 

“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.” 

“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!” 

Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”

Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.” 

“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.” 

You snorted. “I'm staying with John.” 

Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.” 

You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?” 

Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar. 

“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied. 

Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together. 

You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived. 

“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”

You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around. 

“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence. 

“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.” 

You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day. 

“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway. 

Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other. 

Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder. 

He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away. 

But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped. 

Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive. 

That was enough. 

–

It took a week for human ships to arrive.

Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.

But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.

It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting. 

You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship. 

It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.

“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”

Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.

“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.” 

“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.” 

You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful. 

Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again. 

“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor. 

Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”

[short-honey-badger]

Shore Leave

Summary! Captain Lasky orders the Master Chief a two week shore leave. Overwhelmed by his lack of armor and unused to the flow of civilian traffic, he parks himself on a bench and meets you.

Pairings! Master Chief x Reader

Set after the events of Halo 4 and influenced from my love of the game and how good season 2 of the TV series. I wanted to try my hand at something new. I hope you enjoy.

Part 2 -> HERE Part 3 -> HERE

Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117, or John to his friends - the few he had left, cautiously strode through the throngs of civilians. Captain Lasky had ordered him a full two weeks shore leave, no combat, no weapon, no MJOLNIR. Lasky had suggested he take some time to himself, grieve if he needed to after fighting for so long with little reprieve in between battles. To be honest, John wasn't sure what he should do with his time. Despite being one of the last of the original Spartans, the chief had hardly ever been completely alone.

Cortana. She'd always been there, a soft hum in the back of his mind, and John wasn't proud enough to admit that he felt a little lost without her.

Even though the armorless spartan towered above the crowd, he began to feel surrounded, overwhelmed with how densely packed the city was. He wasn't used to being out of his armor, and it made him feel naked, vulnerable in a way that John didn't like. Luckily, he spotted a bench not too much farther away, situated at the beginning of what looked like a small park. John sat heavily, back straight and blue eyes casting around as he took deep breaths to regulate his breathing.

No one bothered him, and John took the time to watch the hoards of civilians go to and fro. He watched couples hold hands, and families carefully guide their children along the sidewalks, each man and woman heading to whatever their destination may be. After a while, and now that John had been able to relax a little, he realized that he enjoyed watching the flow and allowed his mind to wander.

Could he ever have something like this? Such a mundane and easy life, never worrying if the next battle he faced would be his last. If he would ever see his brothers and sisters again? Would he ever live such a simple existence where his only fear is missing the train? The Master Chief doesn't think that he could, not when so much of himself has been lost to war and death. Not when it was his duty to protect the civilians here so that they could have that life.

“Sir, you've been sitting here a while now. Can I help you with anything?”

John is brought out of his thoughts by the soft voice. He turns his head and sees that you have somehow snuck up on him, and he silently berates himself for not noticing. However, you had asked him a question, and the Chief didn't want to come off as rude.

“No, ma'am. Just…watching,” He says slowly, and he feels his cheeks heat up a bit. Was that odd to say? John didn't know, but he felt reassured when he spots the smile that curled your lips.

“Well, good. I don't think I’d be strong enough to haul you anywhere if there was something wrong,” you say, and huff a little at your own words.

John doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't have any kind of experience with civilians, not like this, anyway. He wracks his brain for something to say and wishes that Cortana was still here to walk him through this.

However, you don't seem to mind his silence. Instead, you sit back on the bench and look out at the busy stream of people. You are quiet for a while, but the spartan is prepared when you speak up again.

“I like to people watch too. Makes you feel a little less alone in the universe, ya know?” You say and grin again, suddenly scooting down the bench to sit beside the big man who seemed far too lonely when you'd seen him outside the café across the street.

John tenses, not expecting to have you so close, but he doesn't deny that feeling the heat from where your arm is pressed into his feels…nice. He nods slowly, agreeing with your quiet statement.

“It makes you realize that you aren't the only one out there having a hard time, or becoming successful, or even falling in love. We are all human, and even if it doesn't seem like it, we're all in this together,” you pause, and then your smile becomes a bit mischievous.

“And it's kind of fun to make up stories about them.”

John blinks, a bit confused about that. He turns and looks down at his guest, feeling his cheeks heat up again when he sees you looking right back, eyes cheerful and face far too close to his own. He looks away quickly and sits up straight from his slight slouch.

‘What do you mean?”

Bravely, you lean into his space and gesture subtly at an older couple that are walking down the sidewalk, a heated discussion going on between them. The man looks annoyed as his wife babbles on about who knows what, and you giggle softly and say.

“She's probably upset because her husband - they are definitely married, by the way - forgot to take out the trash. Look at him, he's heard this a thousand times.”

John takes in the look of fond exasperation that paints the older man's expression, squinting his eyes to try and see it the way you are. It doesn't make much sense to him, but he thinks he understands.

You poke your new friend in the arm and nod your head at a gaggle if girl's who are giggling and fawning over a data pad.

“They're probably looking at the cute boy who invited one of them to prom. Or maybe a famous celebrity crush.”

You point out a few other civilians, and one or two of your little stories get the stoic man to crack a tiny smile, and eventually relax again, even with you pressed so close to his side. It feels good to have someone near. Someone who can so easily take up the quiet space that he still isn't used to feeling. The Master Chief finds that he rather likes your company and would like to know more about you.

John finally speaks up again when there is a lul in the rather one-sided conversation, turning to face you completely.

“Do you think you could show me more?”

You take in the careful way he asks, the soft timbre of his voice, and you find yourself nodding easily, and you offer your hand, introducing yourself properly.

“I'd love to. My name is _.”

The Spartan carefully takes your offered hand and marvels at just how small it is compared to his own. He meets your gaze, his blue eyes striking in the city lights.

“My name is John.”

[morganas-pendragons]

respite | Master Chief

this is the halo discords fault.

@lialacleaf / @embarrassedauthornerd / @empresskadia

***

His dreams are not kind to him.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to wake up in the middle of the night and not allow the scream building in his throat to break free. To untangle his grip from crumpled sheets, to slow his breathing back to something steady where his heartbeat isn't pounding in his own ears.

His dreams are not kind to him. His ghosts, even less.

You're woken up to screaming.

His adjustment has not been easy since Cortana's disappearance. So much has happened to the Master Chief in so little time, and not a single person onboard this ship has taken the opportunity to give him the time to process it.

You're determined to be the one who helps him do so. It starts off simple, as it did when you first met. Assurances of watching his back and being his partner on the field. Friendly touches on forearms and shoulders, firm nods of confirmation, always looking out for each other.

It had turned into something more when he'd saved you from the Flood.

It had turned into something more for him when you'd saved him from the group of Brute Chieftains just before High Charity had crashed. That's a whole other story for a whole other day.

John trusted you. He trusted you with his life, with himself, and that was not easy to obtain. Having the trust of The Master Chief as both a soldier and a person was like being given his heart and watching it settle into your hands.

A broken, bleeding thing.

You remember the first time he'd actually screamed. It was loud and agonizing and raw, and only hours after Miranda had died. You had maybe two hours tops before you had to activate the Ring. You'd forced him to sleep for said two hours, because he was not going to function well otherwise.

The Arbiter acted as he did not hear it. Dishonorable, he'd said, to look upon a man like that and acknowledge his turmoil.

"Well, your dishonor is our comfort."

You'd entered the room and sat by his side until he calmed down. You didn't touch him, you didn't say a word, but the act of your presence at his side was enough.

You slid his helmet back on and leaned forward to lightly knock your head against it. There is not an ounce of apprehension in your gaze. No. That's confidence.

Confidence in him.

"To war then, Master Chief."

John had come to appreciate that about you. When everyone else was betting on him to lose and the odds were entirely against him, your steady footing and steadfastness were all he needed to keep pushing forward.

He found himself seeking you out more than embracing his elusive nature and isolating to cope with what played behind his eyes when he slept. Miranda's death. Keyes death. Johnsons death. Cortana-

Cortana had taken his willingness to embrace the fight. Having you and her had rejuvenated him. Had given him a purpose that he felt he could successfully fulfill.

Then she was gone. She'd touched him, said those words that would forever be burned into his memory, and she was gone.

John would've been lying if he said he wasn't terrified that the same thing would happen to you.

That's what brought him to this point. Fingers wound tightly enough in the sheets to crumple them beneath his grasps, blue eyes wildly seeking something to anchor to while his heart pounded loudly in his ears. The moonlight fractured against the window to his right, illuminating the bedroom and his body in white as he twisted and turned on the mattress.

He didn't fully emerge from that nightmare until you opened the door.

Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not safe.

"John? Are you alright?"

You haven't moved. He can just barely see you lingering in the darkness of his doorway. You've closed the door behind you on entry, fingers wound around the wall loosely as you wait for an opening to come closer.

He needs to breathe. His chest hurts, and his eyes are on fire, and why are his cheeks wet-

You're sitting beside him in a moment's notice. He can't quite hear what you're saying now, and perhaps he doesn't need to, because all he can feel is the warmth of your hand on his chest and the other curving around his jawline. It's a stark contrast from the bitter cold of death that always seems to linger in his dreams.

He reads your lips instead as the world slowly comes back into focus. You are safe. You are with someone you trust. You are secure. All attributes that the two of you have said about one another. All attributes that caused him to allow himself to be vulnerable, to allow you to see a side of him most people didn't.

His mind shifts backwards to the first time he'd let you remove his helmet. That alone spoke volumes. Most Spartans didn't even let the other members of their fire team remove their helmets, or their armor.

It had been the talk of the Infinity for weeks.

"John." You're still giving him an opportunity to talk, and the way your gentleness and patience is so all encompassing causes the breath he'd lost to slowly come back into his lungs. "What do you need?"

The logical part of his brain knows the answer to that. He needs to win the war. He needs peace of mind. He needs sleep, and food, and Blue. He really misses Blue Team.

What he does not need is to talk about this dream. About the death. About losing you, and how watching you die finally made him wake up to a very simple realization: Losing you was not an option. Losing you could not happen, because he was in love with you, and had been for a while.

His desires had just not allowed themselves to be known when being the face of a war only he could win.

His heart, however, is what wins out in the end. Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 looks up at you and says, "You."

***

You don't know what that means. For all the time that you and John have been dancing around each other - years, in fact, because you'd resigned yourself to your feelings being one-sided long before this - you never anticipated broken, bleeding fingers shakily reaching out to wrap your own around what is left of his heart.

That is exactly what's on full display right now.

"I don't want to take advantage-"

Your breath catches in your throat as John's hands come to cradle your jaw. It's the first time he's touched you without gloves covering his fingers. It's the first time you've also been able to really see him without the helmet, and he is the most magnificent man you've ever laid eyes on.

You've wondered for years what color his eyes are. It has haunted your dreams, especially whenever the two of you were separated when the Forward Unto Dawn split.

Blue. Such a glorious, deep shade of blue.

"If I didn't want it," He says quietly. "I wouldn't ask."

You slide your knees against the standard UNSC mattress and allow him to, though slowly and hesitantly, take you into his embrace. Menial comforts are not something Spartans are afforded. To be able to take the offer of your comfort, of you, is not something he ever regret doing.

John's head slowly falls into the dip of your shoulder the minute you are in his lap. It's comfortable, and warm, and all you can feel against you is every part of him. It's exactly what you've dreamt of for all the years you've held such deeply rooted feelings for him.

You shiver as his breath fans across your skin. It's intimate. You wonder if picking his head back up to kiss him is too far, but you miss one hundred percent of the risks you don't take.

So you do.

"John," You whisper. "There's never going to be a time where I don't bet on you. You are the one who's gotten us this far, and you're the one who will see us through. I know it. I believe in you."

You watch the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, eyes brightened by the beams of moonlight from outside as you both hesitate.

"Believe in me a little bit longer," His voice is so low that you almost don't hear it, and he's the one who leans forward to follow that desire he has suppressed for is long. "Please."

You nod. Once, twice, three times.

"Always."

And the moment his mouth catches yours, the safety he has so desperately been seeking since Cortana disappeared finds itself encompassing him within their arms.

For the weary soldier, respite comes in the form of his partner: His compassionate, empathetic, gentle partner who will always be there to watch his six. To fight his demons, to ward away his ghosts.

He would not have it be anyone else.

Only you.

[hederasgarden]

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New Beginnings (Harald Sigurdsson x F!Reader l Mature l Series on hiatus) 

You are chosen to wed King Harald in order to cement the alliance between King Canute’s growing kingdom and Norway.

A Quiet Interlude (King Canute x F!Reader l Explicit l 1.2K)

After the death of Queen Ælfgifu, you become King Canute’s new wife.  

Drabbles

Heartbeat (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Explicit l 874) 

When your home is attacked, you see a different side of Leif.

Persistence (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Teen l 658)

Many men have come for your hand but Leif is the first you let into your heart.

The Rescue (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Gen l 431)

You hate frat parties but Harald’s new friend might just change your mind. (Modern AU)

Wicked Games (Godwin x OC l Explicit l 662)

The new Elderman of Wessex has met his match with Lady Aida.

♡Main Masterlist♡

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (9/?) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You're in peril but don't be afraid, help is near. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,568 (this chapter, 22,261 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Trigger warning: claustrophobia Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you’ll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we’ll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 10 is in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞 The tags have been updated for hurt/comfort starting with this chapter. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Trigger warning again: claustrophobia If you need to avoid the actual scene, skip the entire first section but there will be a lot of mentions of it again through the rest of the chapter, just so you're aware. I don't want to cause any distress to anyone so if you'd like a recap of what happens in this chapter, feel free to contact me here and I'm happy to oblige so you can stay in-the-know without reading something that could trigger a bad reaction. Stay safe, my friends! 🤗

You tried to gasp in a breath but there was a weight pinning you down. Smoke burned your lungs and your eyes. Your left arm couldn't move but you were able to bring your right hand up to wipe your face, trying to clear your vision. The only light in the rubble came from a shower of sparks a few feet away, emitting from a panel half-ripped from the wall. There was very little to orientate yourself by.

"Hello?" you tried to call but you couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell. The muffled ring in your ears told you that at least one of your eardrums had ruptured.

Evaluate, you thought in the tone you used when triaging patients, shoving down a wave of panic. You tried to squeeze out from under whatever was pressed across your back. No good, too much weight.

There wasn't a tremendous amount of pain but you worried at the numbness from your waist down, behind whatever was restraining you.

Evaluate.

You tested moving your legs, your feet, your toes. It felt strange but yes, you had movement.

Spinal cord potentially compromised but not severed, you diagnosed as clinically as possible.

Something overhead gave an alarming groan.

Alert help. Report your position.

"Hello? I'm by the crane operator booth. Can anyone hear me?"

You couldn't get the volume you wanted and you automatically tried to inhale deeper. You couldn't and had to fight another wave of panic. The animal part of your brain wanted to claw the twisted metal of the deck, trying to squirm free, but when you twitched, something above you groaned again.

You had no way to know how perilous the collapsed structure was. A wrong move could bring it all down.

A fresh wave of smoke irritated your nose and you coughed weakly. From far away, you heard the muffled sound of a woman saying your rank and last name.

"Here," you choked out. "I'm here."

A blue light shimmered a few feet away, the lower half of a blue-tinted woman, her upper body phased through the rubble. Then she shrank until she fit the space, adjusting like a camera lens. A hologram.

She repeated your rank and last name. "We have your location," she said, your damaged hearing distorting her voice. "Sit tight, a rescue crew is on their way."

You tried to respond but the smoke triggered more coughing, so you nodded.

"I'll stay with you for as long as the holo-emiter holds," she said, gesturing towards the ruined wall panel that continued to spark.

"Thank you," you managed to say. "Casualties?"

She glanced up and away as if receiving new information. "Reports coming in of injuries but no fatalities. Your alert gave enough time for almost everyone to get clear."

"Good." You made yourself slow your breathing down, taking shallow breaths since you couldn't take deeper ones. For a moment, your head swam and it felt like the floor tipped. Your fingers scratched for a hold on the crumpled metal.

The sound of your rank and name cut through the terror. "You're all right," the woman assured you. "You're not falling. Try to stay still. Silver Team will be back on site in a few more minutes. John will be here soon."

It gave you something to focus on other than bring trapped. The way she knew that the mention of John would comfort you, that she didn't call him Master Chief like most people did, even the mannerism of how she'd looked away, like someone was speaking in her ear...

"Your name wouldn't be Ms. Classified, would it?" you asked haltingly and tried to smile.

"That's... not inaccurate," she said and maybe it was your blurry vision but you could've sworn she gave you a fond smile, like she knew you. "I'm not supposed to tell my name."

You tried to say it was all right but couldn't draw enough breath.

"Ah, screw it," she said. "What are they going to do, fire me? My name is Cortana."

You must've blacked out because the next thing you knew, she was kneeling next to you, her small holographic hand resting atop your outstretched arm as she repeated your rank and name.

If you could get a breath, you needed a good, solid breath. Your chest instinctively fought to expand but couldn't beneath the pressure bearing down on your back. Something above you slid and the pressure abruptly worsened. You clawed, you fought, you struggled to breathe. To live.

"John, get here now! The support beam is failing!"

"Not his fault," you tried to say. "Tell him. Not his--"

Metal screamed and everything went dark.

You woke, grasping at nothing. You still couldn't get a deep breath but this time you were on your back and it felt like someone had laced a corset brutally tight around you.

"Easy there. You're all right," said a deep voice.

Your vision swam and then Spartan Vannak-134 appeared out from the dim lighting. You were still clawing at the air, trying to sit up, and he caught your hand a little awkwardly in his much larger ones.

"Where?" you gasped.

"You're back on Reach, in medical."

Once he said it, details emerged like a black and white picture filling in with color: the beeps of the monitors, the distinctive antiseptic smell. Your hearing was still deadened but not as much as before, meaning they had already begun healing therapies on your eardrums.

Anything you might've wanted to say dissolved like sugar on your tongue before the words could be spoken. Your head seemed too full. I'm drugged, you thought and that was the last thing you knew for a while.

Voices drew you from the murky depths and you tried to open your eyes but couldn't.

"Hold her hand," Vannak said in a quiet rumble. "She likes that."

A new hand gently folded around yours and your fingers instinctively gripped hold.

You woke, feeling the phantom press of metal bearing down on you, forcing the air from your lungs. You tried to sit up, your limbs flailed, uncoordinated and leaden. A second hand closed around yours and a feminine voice began to softly sing, a lullaby in a language you didn't recognize.

The room was blurry but you caught a glimpse of red hair -- Spartan Riz-028. You went under once more, dreaming of music that soothed your fears.

Later, there was a new voice to lure you up from the sticky darkness.

"Poor little thing. She looks so small."

"She'll heal. Hold her hand, it helps."

At some point, you jolted awake to find your hand cradled carefully within Kai's.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straighter in the chair next to the bed. "You need anything?"

Your head felt less stuffed with cotton than before but now that cotton seemed to have been transferred to your mouth. "Water?" you croaked.

She jumped up and returned shortly, carrying a cup with a straw in it. You intended to sit up but a searing pain in your ribs immediately convinced you that was a bad idea and you let her help you by holding the straw to your lips.

"Slowly," she advised.

Once you'd taken a couple of sips, you mumbled your thanks then promptly passed out.

You thought you'd closed your eyes for a brief moment but when they fluttered open, it wasn't Kai sitting in the chair, holding your hand.

As soon as John knew you were awake, he was on his feet, carefully brushing the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of your cheek.

You mouthed his name.

"Rest," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you truly felt as if you were. Your mind let go.

"And how's our favorite mech, the Hero of the Pit?"

"That's not a very heroic name," you confessed, smiling as Maria and then Jamie entered medical.

You were sitting on the side of the bed in generic gray scrubs, waiting for Dr. Savannah to give you final instructions before your release. It had been two days since the explosion. Your hearing had, thankfully, returned to normal. The rest of you... not so much but you were on the mend.

They both gave you careful hugs.

"You look a lot less like you were squashed by a building," Jamie said sincerely and Maria punched his arm. "Hey, that was a compliment!"

"Don't make me laugh," you begged, holding your left side. They'd fused your broken ribs back together but the tissue damage would take longer to resolve. Still, aches, pains, limited motion and all, you knew you were very lucky.

"I hope they're giving you a nice vacation, at least," Maria went on.

"I should be ready for light duty in a week."

"Technically, I said we'd evaluate you for light duty in a week," Dr. Savannah corrected as she entered. "Afraid your friends will have to catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes and, as they left, you started to stand. The doctor quickly said, "No, you don't. I don't want you walking on that leg."

"It's not broken," you argued.

"Not anymore," she countered. "Stay put. I got you a ride."

"I don't need to be wheeled back to the barracks." You tried to keep your tone confident but the truth was even that little bit of exertion had left you feeling twinges all along your left leg. Your left shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

"Well, good thing you're wrong on both counts," she said, winking. "And here he is now."

John came through the door, dressed in his undersuit as if either about to head to the Brokkr stations to have his Mjolnir mounted up or returning from having it removed. You didn't even realize you'd moved to rise again until Dr. Savannah put a practiced hand on your good shoulder to keep you down.

"I'll be sending PT to you twice a day, starting tomorrow," she said. "They'll help you to get your strength and mobility back. Around that, rest. Catch up on your reading, watch some thoroughly trashy movies, and keep your feet up. Not too far up, though. Nothing too strenuous. Make him do all of the work."

That got you to look at her and she waggled her eyebrows.

John cleared his throat slightly, a faint but definite flush creeping up from his collar. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, see you back in a few days, sooner if anything else develops. You know what to watch for."

It wasn't until she stepped back and John approached that it clicked.

"You're going to carry me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated in a murmur that shivered straight down your spine.

Since your left side had taken the brunt of the damage, he put your right to his chest and cautiously picked you up in a bridal carry. Despite the care, being moved set a thousand things to hurting and your breath hitched as he straightened.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone tighter than you would've liked. You thought, I hope nobody sees me being toted around like this, but, as soon as you left medical, you realized that no one was actually looking at you.

I think if Master Chief offered to drop me and pick up any marine, ODST or officer in this hall, they'd be hopping into his arms before I even hit the floor!

At the first turn he made, you realized the rest of it. "This isn't the way to the barracks."

"Nope," he said and you knew him well enough now to see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

You didn't have to wait for further clues, there was only one place, then, that he could be taking you. "How many strings did you have to pull for this?"

"Not as many as you might think," he demurred. "Your actions saved lives."

And they could've blamed you for failing to make sure a bomb hadn't been sent to the Pit in the first place. The curly tailed Warthog had been your responsibility, after all. You'd been curtly informed of all that when they'd debriefed you the first day you'd had your eyes open for more than 15 minutes.

You doubted they'd told that to John, though.

When you reached his room, he maneuvered so to get his thumb on the panel without jostling you too much. The lights came on as he took you through the doorway and then he paused.

"Kai," he rumbled, shaking his head. "She said studies show people heal better with color. I should've known she'd overdo it. Say the word and I'll have her in here clearing this out."

"It's your room," you said, "but personally, I love it."

The duvet on the bed and the pillows on the couch were now a rainbow of jewel tones. A tapestry with a field of sunflowers dominated the wall at the foot of the bed and you could've sworn there was a dusting of diamond glitter shimmering on every wall, sending tiny holographic rainbows through the air in all directions. But the main thing that caught your attention was overhead.

"She put up stars," you said, brightening.

"Ah, that one was actually me," he confessed. "You seemed to really like those in her room so I thought..."

You stretched up in his arms, inhaling a little sharply at the stab of pain in your left side, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love them, John. Thank you."

A short time later, you found yourself lying on the bed in the darkened room, looking up at those stars. John had profusely apologized for not being able to stay after getting you settled in. He'd turned down the bed so you wouldn't have to, had put your padd close at hand on the nightstand to the right along with a bottle of water and a couple of emergency ration packs in case you got hungry before someone bought you a meal. He'd even procured you a set of unthinkably soft civvies to change into, exactly your size and in your favorite color.

You couldn't imagine that a Spartan had ever taken care of a sick or wounded person before, other than in a battlefield triage situation, so he'd probably found a checklist from somewhere to guide him. His earnestness to make sure he'd done everything right sent warmth flooding through you.

Before he left, he'd paused to kiss the top of your head.

"You know," you said, lifting your chin, "my lips aren't broken."

He hesitated. "The last time I did that, an entire base fell on you."

"Only the warehouse part," you said dismissively, "and there was absolutely no correlation, I promise."

He tried to smile at that but his eyes still showed concern.

"I promise," you repeated more seriously and he exhaled as if about to make a tremendous leap. His kiss was so soft and gentle, it was barely more than a whisper against your mouth.

Once he had left, you'd considered taking Dr. Savannah's advice and watching a holo, reading something on your padd, or doing any number of things to pass the time but ultimately, you'd wanted to appreciate his handiwork.

After all, it wasn't just anybody who could say a Spartan had literally hung the stars for them.

[empresskadia]

8 with John, please!

8. "I believe in us."

Stars glimmered like distant beacons outside the vast porthole of the Infinity, casting the only light in the dimmed room. The heads-up display in the helmet dimmed, its interface retreating into the background. Normally, a heavy thud announced John's approach, a sound as familiar as it was reassuring. Tonight, however, it was the quiet swish of the door that marked his arrival. Blue Team must have returned from their mission. Odd, you thought. John was supposed to have another mission lined up right after this one.

You knew the answer, Roland. When had the AI ever refrained from snooping and spilling every detail? John stood there, his armor catching faint reflections from the distant stars. His stance had an uncharacteristic hesitation, something you had rarely seen in the stoic Spartan.

"You’re back early," you said, breaking the silence. John gave a slight nod. He stepped further into the room, the door whispering shut behind him. You could feel the weight of his stare through that golden visor as if he were scanning for something.

“...Are you alright?” he finally asked, seeming satisfied that you bore no visible wounds on your armor. What had Roland told him?

You drew a deep breath, your gaze drifting back to the sea of stars outside the viewport. You offered him a mild shrug, forcing your thoughts into some semblance of order. “I’m fine, John. Just... tired, I guess,” you replied softly, your mind drifting back to earlier events. What was it to be Spartan anymore? What did you even believe in? That’s where your mind kept circling back to.

John's demeanor softened imperceptibly, though his visor obscured any outward expression. His silence stretched, punctuated only by the subtle hum of the Infinity’s systems and the distant twinkling of stars. For a moment, it seemed as if he was weighing his response carefully, perhaps grappling with his own thoughts. "I know it’s not easy," he finally said, his voice low yet resonant in the quiet of the room. You sensed him moving closer, standing beside you as you both stared out into the endless expanse. 

"It wears on all of us. But what we're doing... it matters." his tone softened, revealing something you hadn’t yet seen from this man. 

Your helmet dropped softly, clinking onto his armored shoulder. It was a small gesture but there was comfort to it. Knowing he was here, knowing someone cared about the invisible battle inside. Like he understood more than just physical fatigue; the weariness that ran deeper, touching on questions of purpose and endurance.

"And, I believe in us," John continued in an almost whisper like he was admitting something he had hidden deep away. You lifted your gaze to his, the soft glow of your helmet casting a faint halo. His visor reflected a light image of your own, a mirrored connection in a universe where certainty was a rare luxury. There was a soft ‘thunk’ as his helmet gently tapped against yours.

"I believe in us too," you admitted, the quiet affirmation hanging between you like a promise—one that John always kept.

[eureka-its-zico]

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 

Vital. 

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty. 

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops. 

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him. 

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 

Halsey had found something. Really found something. 

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 

You were supposed to be a lucky one. 

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly. 

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 

“Thao, can you come play?” 

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 

You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 

Could you have gone around? 

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 

“And where did you run off to this morning?” 

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 

Either that or joining the resistance. 

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 

“Enough!” 

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 

This was a kill zone. 

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar! 

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 

Except this time - no…NO! 

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 

Except that wasn’t what happened. 

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.” 

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 

This Dr. Halsey. 

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt? 

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda. 

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 

You didn’t understand until you did. 

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 

Gone. 

Gone. 

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - shapeshifters fear

Looking at the man in front of you, your heart pounded in your chest, you cradled your injured arm as you felt the blood running through your fingers.

“John…” you whispered.

“My orders are to bring you in.”

“John don’t do this please… you know I’m not a treat…”

“My orders are clear. You are to be tried as a threat to reach, and for lying on your application forms when you applied to be a marine.”

You quickly shook your head.

“I’m not lying! I swear! They asked if I had any contact with a list of certain species and I didn’t!”

“You’re one of them!” He hissed.

“That’s doesn’t mean I’m in contact with them!”

“Then come in without a fight, answer the questions and maybe they’ll just give you time in prison.”

“I’ll be executed.”

He aimed his gun, and you took an unsure step away from him.

“John please… please I’m begging you…”

“Get on your knees, hands behind your head.”

You shook your head.

“John they’ll kill me…”

“I’ll talk with them, but you need to come in peacefully for me to be able to convince them.”

“Do you think that’s going to work?! You saw what they did to that man last week! I never did anything I swear!”

“Stand down.” He said.

You looked around for something, anything to help, and you saw a few barrels nearby but you had to act quickly.

You gave John a small smile, and you shook your head.

“I’d rather die.”

With that, you sprinted away, hearing a bullet go flying past your head.

All you had to do was get somewhere public, get lost in the crowd and go from there.

So all you had to do was get to the bottom of this building, which wasn’t an option with all the marines down there so you went up instead.

John was shouting your name as you ran, running over to the roof, then to the next one, and you jumped down a fire escape, running down the stairs.

You had the advantages of speed, and they knew that, if they lost sight of that then it would be over and you would be lost.

Ducking under the arm of a marine, you jumped down the rest of the way, rolling and you ran into the busy street below.

Weaving in and out of people, down to the subway where more people were and on to the tracks.

It wasn’t safe, but there were hiding places, empty tunnels that weren’t used anymore, so you made your way into one of them.

Creeping around, you crouched against a wall.

“I need help…” you whispered.

You knew they were here, it’s where the hid, and all of your species knew that there were a few who hid under the city for moments like this.

You heard some steps, and you looked to the side at the eyes peering back at you.

“Where to?”

“Just away from here.”

“Very well. Come with me.”

You were quickly taken away from the city, taken away from everything you knew, and taken somewhere else.

A different planet was all you knew, you were placed in a small and quiet town and given a home to share with somebody.

You were constantly on edge though, everytime a ship came in you were ready to run for it, and today was no different.

You were standing outside with the others watching as a ship landed, and you slowly began backing away through the ground when you recognised it.

“(Y/N)!” You friend hissed.

“I need to go.” You whispered back.

They glanced at you, then back to the ship, and you watched as the Spartans came out, two of them going to speak to the mayor.

You turned around, keeping your head down as you walked away, but you were fully aware that you were being followed.

“Stop running.”

You broke out into a sprint, jumping over a fence you ran through a field, and John nearly lost you in the tall grass.

You had changed, but he could see where you ran from the grass, and he began to track you.

You ran through the fields, heading for the mountains, John wasn’t far behind you.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted.

He could see the gleam of your fur in the sun just before you entered the trees.

You kept running, trying anything to get away from him, he was fast, you were slightly faster, if you could find a place to hide and lay low you would win.

While running, you could hear him shouting your name as you kept going, and you kept trying to get away from him.

Finding a wooden bridge, you dug your paws into the ground, coming to a halt and you covered the tracks with dirt, then crawled under it.

You listened carefully to the sound of his steps coming closer.

“(Y/N)!?”

You could hear him on the wooden bridge walking around, then you heard him stop.

“I’m not here to hurt you or arrest you.”

He looked around, and you slowly backed up from the way you were going, crawling towards the other side of the bridge to get out.

You quietly made your way out, and you stood up, turning your go back the way you came from and John was in front of you.

“We know you had nothing to do with the attack, you’ve been cleared.”

You slowly began backing away and he rose his hands.

“No, no don’t.”

John reached up, taking his helmet off and he slowly knelt down, placing it on the ground, his eyes studying you.

“Please don’t be scared of me…” he whispered.

He reached out and you turned your head away, a little unsure and he paused.

“I’m sorry…”

You backed away even more, and then ran back the way you had come from.

John kept coming back when he could, each time you would run away from him, and after a few months you had thought he had given up.

But he hadn’t, he arrived again just like every other time out of uniform, and he walked over to where you were standing in your front garden.

You began backing away.

“I know you’re going to runaway, but I have something for you.”

He slowly reached his hand into his pocket and pulled something out, setting it down on the floor, then he backed away.

“I’ll be here for a few hours until the last ship goes back to reach.”

With that he walked away and you walked over to pick up what he had left.

It didn’t seem like much, just an ordinary hologram, but when you opened it you saw it was a picture of you he had taken when you were trying to teach him new skills.

You loved that memory, just you and him, learning different things and just having fun.

You turned it off, putting it in your pocket, and you went back to what you were doing.

John didn’t wonder too far, he stayed nearby, hoping maybe you would come and talk to him, but you didn’t seem to show any interest in it.

You knew he was still there nearby, and after a while of ignoring him you nervously approached him.

John looked at you as you walked over, but you seemed a little bit nervous, and possibly scared.

“Will you come back?” He asked.

You shook your head.

“It’s not safe for me there…”

“It is, I promise. We had you cleared of all chargers and they’ll reinstate you.”

“So what? I can be blamed again when a shifter does something wrong?”

“No. So you can come back.”

You shook your head.

“I’m not coming back, stop coming here.”

You went to walk away and John shot forward, taking your hand and he walked around you.

“I miss you…” he mumbled.

You stayed quiet, and you looked at his hand that was still holdings yours, and you noticed is bruised knuckles.

“You should be more careful…”

John sighed.

“I’m sorry… I should have done more to protect you… to stand up for you…”

“People don’t trust me, that’s okay…”

“It’s not. I trust you. I know you would never do anything like that, but I was made to follow orders, I should have questioned them but I did. And now I’ve ran you away…”

You sighed slightly.

John took your arm, and he ran his thumb along the scar going across it, from where you had hurt yourself trying to get away from him.

“I made you scared of me…”

John leant down, kissing the top of your head.

“I really am sorry…”

With that he let go, and he made his way back down the street.

“I’m not scared of you…”

He stopped.

“I guess I’m just… I’m scared it’ll happen again…”

He turned around and walked over over, taking your face between his hands.

“If it does I’ll be right by your side I promise…”

“You’ll have to follow orders.”

“I don’t care. I will stand by you.”

“John…”

“I love you.”

You blinked a little in shock.

“I love you.” He repeated.

John leant down, brushing his lips against yours before he pulled away.

His eyes searched yours and you sighed a little bit, tucking your head under his chin because you couldn’t stay away from him.

You had always felt safer with him, and right now you felt safest in his arms standing there.

John held you tightly, a hand on the back of your head.

He knew it was going to take a while to get you to feel safe enough to come back to reach, and if that meant he had to keep going back that’s what he was going to do.

He has screwed up big time, now he had to make it up to you

[ghostlychief]

Omg, I love all your work! Im gushing over it, how about one with the Master Chief where the reader is just loving kissing his scars and making him feel loved and the reader is a scientist stationed on the infinity

another master chief request, LETS GOOOO

---

The Infinity was in orbit around Reach, and you finally had some time off to rest and relax, after being deployed up in space for a few months. You were starting to miss natural gravity.

You were a scientist stationed on Infinity, so that meant that majority of your time was spent up in space. You’ve wanted to be a scientist for as long as you can remember, always dreaming of studying the stars, and maybe even one day, being able to physically explore them, traveling through the galaxy. And here you were, some twenty odd years later from when you obsession with the cosmos first came to fruition.

You were also eager to get back down to Reach because you know John was back from his last mission, and you were anxious to get back, excited to see your boyfriend. This time, he was gone for only three weeks, which was actually not a long time at all. Sometimes his work would take him away form you for much longer, but you thanked the heavens that he was already back on Reach, safe and sound.

Earlier, you were frantically cleaning your apartment since he was coming over tonight. You were already kind of a clean freak, so when you were expecting company (even though he’s your boyfriend of many years) you went into ultra-cleaning mode, and cleaned for hours on end, making sure everything was spotless, and smelled good. It also helped you clear your mind.

Eight o’clock finally rolled around, and you were expecting John to be here any time now.

You hear a knock on your door, and you sprint up from the couch and basically rip the door open, a wide grin on your face as you take in your boyfriend, who’s standing in your door frame. He’s opted for comfy clothes, wearing his all-black workout clothes. You’ve always commented on how the black brings out the green in his eyes.

He brings you in for a warm hug, his large arms wrapping around your frame and pulling you in close to him. You feel his chin rest on top of your head, and you both gently rock back and forth as you soak up each other’s warmth. He smells just as you remember, like a gentle rainfall with a hint of cedar. It’s your favorite scent. You finally break away from him, formally greeting him this time, and then you both enter your home.

Fast forward a couple hours, finds yourself laying in bed, with John, and you guys are talking about everything under the sun. He told you about his last mission and surprisingly, some drama that’s been going on with the Blue team, among other mundane updates since he last saw you. You do the same, talking about your latest project, which is tracking a certain galaxy through the Universe.

You have your fairy lights turned on, making your room glow softly, and you’re both wrapped under the covers and in each other’s arms. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the universe right now.

Your head rests on John’s bicep, while your leg is thrown over his hip. His arm that is not acting as a pillow for you, is wrapped around your middle, his hand resting on your back, rubbing soft circles there.

“…and where did you get this one from?” Your hand is currently resting on his face, gently cupping it, as your thumb traces of a scar that marks his left cheek. He’s already told you how he got each of his scars, but you always love hearing him tell the stories, so you find yourself asking him to tell you again.

His hand that was resting on your back, moves so now it’s holding your waist, and he gives you a light pinch, teasing you. You squirm and giggle, but you just look up expectantly at John, waiting to hear the story for the hundredth time.

“Well, as you very well know, I got this on the first Halo I visited.”

You perk up, “Ooo, installation 04, right?” John lets out a chuckle, “Yeah, that one.”

“Aka, the one you destroyed.” You grant him a sly grin. This time he more so huffs, rather than laughs, “Yes, that one.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, continue good sir.” You didn’t see him roll his eyes, but you know he did mentally.

“It was probably day 6 since I touched down on Halo, after the whole Flood incident, so I was pretty worse for wear. We happened to run into a Covenant fleet, which had more than the average amount of Elites. Two in which had the invisibility cloaking mechanism, and their infamous energy swords.”

You nod, encouragingly for him to continue, your thumb still gently moving back and forth on his face. You also lean up to give him a quick kiss on his jaw, and you feel his grip on your waist tighten at the action.

“I managed to take one of the cloaked elites out, while the marines focused on the rest of the fleet. The second elite though was a slippery bastard, and he almost managed to slice my head clean off my neck, but luckily, the sword only grazed my face, giving me this lovely blemish.”

“Well, I love it.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, where the discoloration remains form the blade of the energy sword. You rest your forehead on his for a moment, then kiss his nose.

“I also love this one.” You move to right above his left eye, where a long-jagged mark remains, and leave a kiss. You move to his right temple and plant your lips there, “And this one…”

“Now I think you’re just trying to flatter me.” You let out a breathy laugh, “Never.”

He has a couple of very small scars littering his other cheek, so you pepper kisses all over there, “…and these ones.”

You then hover your lips over his, lightly brushing them as you say, “But most importantly, I love you.”

[cenittxnadir]

Marrige Headcanon with John

The impossible happened. John dared to take the next step and proposed the idea of ​​"getting married." Can it really count as a marriage? His "idea" of marriage was not conventional. He really wanted to be with you and he felt comfortable with what you both had but he wanted more. He wanted to be able to feel freer and a little more human. Unfortunately, orchestrating a wedding and what being married socially entails did not fit with the lifestyle of a Spartan, so their wedding was something more symbolic. Nothing legal or religious, just two people wanting to unite their hearts and feelings in the middle of what seemed like an endless war.

Magically one day they were engaged out of nowhere. The topic came up for conversation and he proposed the idea of ​​getting married. At first you thought it was a joke so you just said yes to humor him but everything became more serious when the following week he came asking your opinion about having a slightly different ceremony and when the date of the event would be. That was where you realized that you were engaged and that he was very serious.

It was a fairly small event, just the two of you where you shared your vows and promises. No one else found out about this, not even John's team, although this only lasted a few months, he was the one who told them, since he was leaving on a mission that would last a long time and he didn't know if he would return. He just wanted to make sure you were okay, so he thought it was a good idea to leave you in the care of the rest of the team and they did an amazing job.

DARLING!!! GUESS WHO´S BACK FROM JAIL! HELLOW EVERYONE, I´M BACK

[writeforfandoms]

Love Letters

Find my Halo masterlist

This is just a fun little gift for/brainrot with my lovely @chaoticgeminate​ who helped me plan out the idea and cheered me on. Love you darling! 💖

You never intended to actually admit your feelings to Master Chief. But your supervisor meddled, he knows, and you might be having anxiety. A silly cute one shot about developing feelings.

John-117/Master Chief x f!reader

Warnings: swearing, mild implied violence, tooth rotting fluff, Blue Team Supremacy

Word count: 5.7k

“You did what?!” You stared at your supervisor with horrified eyes, hands gripping the edge of your console too tight.

“I delivered that letter.” Your supervisor, Melinda, was a good supervisor. She ran a tight group. She was also a troublemaker who meddled and had a secret romantic side. 

Which she had apparently used to send a letter that was never actually meant to be sent!

“Why?” You couldn’t keep the weight of despair out of your voice, half-pleading for her to be pranking you.

Melinda shrugged. “It was a nice letter. Very sweet. If nothing else, he deserves to know.”

“No! He was never meant to know!” You pried your hands off the metal and debated the merits of strangling Melinda. Pro: they’d court martial you so you would never have to face Master Chief. Con: you’d end up on a work colony planet and probably get shivved within days. 

Fine, no strangling Melinda. Yet. 

“Why not? I think your crush is adorable.” Melinda smirked in that particularly infuriating way she had. 

You made a wordless noise of protest and despair, letting your head fall to your station with a little thunk.

“Go walk it off,” Melinda told you, slapping your back. (Ow.) “Take a break. That’s not a suggestion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You sighed and stood as she walked away, trudging away from your station. Not that you had anywhere in particular in mind to go. The ship was not small, after all. But you had been told to walk it off, so… Walking it was. 

At least until you rounded a corner and damn near ran into a very familiar armored individual. All you had to do was spot that particular shade of green and you damn near jumped out of the way.

“Sorry, sir!” Okay, so maybe you squeaked a bit, but. Really. You could not be blamed. Your heart couldn’t take this kind of stress, especially not with the stunt Melinda pulled earlier.

But Master Chief just nodded to you and continued on his way. Only once he was out of sight did you deflate with a whoosh, leaning back against the wall. 

Okay. Either he hadn’t read the letter, or he hadn’t gotten it yet, or he had read it but was just ignoring you. What if you’d made him uncomfortable? What if he didn’t even know how to respond and you just fucked things up?

You groaned and covered your face with your hands. You were never going to recover from this disaster. 

–

There was a letter on his floor. An actual, physical letter. Hardly anyone used those anymore - he’d used a notepad maybe a handful of times to take notes. (And once as a distraction. It made a lot of noise and left some very confused Unggoy.) 

Point being, John was fairly certain he’d never received a physical letter in his life. But the envelope said “Master Chief” on the outside. And it had been left in his room.

He sat at the desk and opened it, fingers working carefully at the envelope to get the paper out. 

The first thing he noticed was the handwriting. A little curly, a little scratched, it was almost… endearing. 

And then he actually read the letter. 

And stopped.

John was aware that some people found him attractive. While it wasn’t something he had ever encouraged or discouraged, not really, it wasn’t something he entirely understood, either. It was very rare that he thought of people in terms of attraction. 

But this… This was not that. Not quite. This was far more emotional. In fact, the writer admitted to having not seen him without the helmet. 

This was not physical attraction. This was something different. 

He had no idea what to do with it.

For now, he folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his desk. Using every privacy protocol he knew of, he went into the database to search for reference material. 

Half of which were old movies and shows revolving around the sending and receiving of these letters, usually with comedic or dramatic aspects.

John would never, ever admit to having watched one of them. It’s not like he needed a lot of sleep anyway. 

But he was still at a loss as to what to do. Did he write back? Did he find this person and talk to them face to face? The sources available to him were… unclear on proper protocol. 

His Spartans, he knew, would be no help with this. For various reasons. Not least of which being that they’d tease the hell out of him. So, alternate sources needed.

(And he couldn’t help the flash of pain at the thought that Cortana would have an answer, she’d find an answer for him, she always had answers–)

Captain Lasky had proven himself trustworthy and discreet. While not John’s first choice, he would do if further research yielded no results. 

With a sigh, John closed everything down for the night. He needed sleep. At least a little sleep. Not sleeping led to being forced to take downtime, which was… a bad thing. A very bad thing. 

He laid down and stared up at the ceiling, systematically going through his body and making sure there were no noteworthy aches. Then he closed his eyes.

The last conscious thought he had was that he liked your handwriting. 

–

John purposely waited until after his next mission to bring up the letter. He had already decided this was a conversation he needed to have with the helmet on. 

So, after debrief, instead of taking Lasky’s usual dismissal, John shifted his weight. “There is one more thing.”

Lasky looked up at him with a faint, concerned frown. “Speak freely, Chief.” 

“A Spartan received a letter.” John spoke slowly, weighing each word. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to reveal the whole situation just yet. “Of a… personal nature.”

Lasky grimaced. “If someone needs to be spoken to–”

“No.” John tipped his head to the side. “It wasn’t a bad letter.” 

Lasky blinked, caught off guard, and nodded slowly. “Then what is the concern of this Spartan?” 

This would be the hard part. John stuck to the same tactic, in hopes it worked. “None of us are aware of proper protocols for responding to such letters, Captain.” 

Lasky was completely silent for a long moment. And then he lifted one hand to rub his forehead, muttering to himself. (John knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear without his enhanced hearing.) “I am not equipped to handle this talk…” Lasky drew in a deep breath and looked back up at John. “Let me see if I have this right. A Spartan received a personal letter, but not an inappropriate one. I’m guessing a love letter or a confession letter of some kind. And… you want to know how to respond.”

“Correct, sir.” John didn’t move.

Lasky sighed. “Well. There are a couple ways to respond, I suppose, depending on how the Spartan in question feels. If they’re uncomfortable, they can ignore the letter or turn the person down. Or if the… feelings are accepted, they can write a return letter or tell this person face to face.” 

“What would the contents of a return letter be?” John frowned, yet again glad the helmet was concealing his expression.

Lasky looked like he would rather be doing anything else. “That’s up to the person writing. Granted, letters haven’t been common for centuries, but… Stating your own feelings is pretty typical, or inviting the person to continue writing. Some people find it easier to write their feelings than say them out loud.” 

John turned this new information over in his mind before he nodded once. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

“Chief?”

John paused, half-turned away from the captain, and tipped his head back that direction.

“Let me know if this becomes a problem. Otherwise, I’ll assume all is well and I will not go looking for more paperwork.”

John nodded his understanding of that and left. He was scheduled to get out of the armor now and have some time to fuel and sleep. 

But maybe… 

Stepping into the Brokkr to get the armor removed was second nature by now, and John barely paid attention to the machinery whirring around him. He was instead still puzzling over the letter in his mind. 

Lasky’s explanation had been sufficient for him to move forward. 

Walking around the ship without armor always left John feeling exposed. He was so used to being in the armor, being a soldier, that being without was… odd. Fortunately, it happened infrequently enough that he still had some anonymity - although it was clear he was a Spartan, most of the crew didn’t equate him to the Master Chief outside of his armor. And that was just fine with him. 

The mess was busy when he entered, but nobody bothered him as he took a tray, gathered food, and sat at an empty table well off to the side. Just as he preferred.

He spotted you sitting at a table not too far away, datapad in front of you, tray forgotten to one side. He watched as your brow furrowed, as you hunched closer to the screen as if that would help you, as you scrolled through whatever you were reading with just the very tip of your tongue poking between your lips. 

He’d never spoken to you, but he had looked you up after reading the letter. Clean service record, glowing compliments from multiple supervisors. You’d been in communications your entire career, and you were, by all accounts, good at it. 

Despite the clear fluster you’d shown that day you’d run into him. 

He tipped his head to the side a little, watching you mutter under your breath as you did… something on the datapad. You were… different. Cute, maybe. He didn’t have much of a frame of reference for cute. Or attractive. 

When you finally looked up from your datapad, John was carefully not watching you. You seemed totally oblivious to having been observed for the better part of five minutes, and started eating with half your attention. 

Depositing his tray after he was done, John made his way back to his room. He knew how he needed to proceed.

–

You weren’t paying attention as you walked back to your bunk, which was… not unusual. You shared with three others, and you all had rotating schedules, so you could usually get at least a little time to yourself. 

But the crinkle of something underfoot when you stepped into your bunk was new. Frowning, you looked down.

There was a letter. On the floor. Partially under your foot.

Heart suddenly racing into overtime, you bent to pick it up. It was addressed to you in unfamiliar, blocky handwriting. This did not help your pulse at all, which was still thrumming hard and fast. 

Double checking that you were alone, you dropped down to sit on your bed and opened the envelope with shaking fingers. 

The letter was short, and for a moment your gaze caught on the name at the end. 

John. John. 

…Wait. John-117. Master Chief. 

You were definitely going to murder Melinda. 

Your letter was very kind, if unexpected. I've never received a letter like this before, and was uncertain how to respond. 

I don't know you, but I would like to, time permitting. If you would like to remain discreet, further letters would be welcome. I am also open to suggestions. 

Regards,

You stared at the letter unblinkingly for several moments. He… hadn't turned you down. He hadn't said no. 

He'd… said yes? 

You carefully put the letter back away. Put your face in your hands. And squealed. 

Okay. Maybe you wouldn't kill Melinda, after all. 

But wait. Now you had to decide what to do! Tipping over sideways, you hid your face in your pillow and shrieked. Just a little bit. (The walls weren't that thick, after all.) 

…Wait. Now you had to figure out how to reply. 

You were so fucked. 

–

It took you three days to write a return letter to him. Partially because you had to figure out how to say what you wanted to say (and you definitely ended up scrapping two pieces of paper). Partially because work required actual focus, and you couldn’t always goof off. And partially just because it took you a bit to gather your nerves. 

You’d never really intended to confess your feelings to Chief. To John. You were still figuring out how you felt about having been outed, more or less. 

Finally, though, you gave up and just wrote the damn thing. It was late, you were mildly sleep deprived and running on a bit of liquid courage. 

John,

I hope you don’t mind if I call you John now. I have one more confession to make. 

I wrote the letter, yes, but I never actually sent it. I’m… a little intimidated now that you know. I really hope I haven’t overstepped. 

But I would really like to get to know you. Whatever way you’re comfortable with, really. Letters are good with me. Honestly, they’re probably more coherent. I can ramble on for a long time if nobody stops me in person, my supervisor teases me about it sometimes. 

I work in Communications, so my shifts tend to be pretty predictable. I’ve got the early shift at the moment - 0600 to 1500. It’s not bad, really, but it does mean I tend to go to bed early. I rarely have plans after my shifts. Although I do like to wander the ship. I have definitely gone into areas I was not supposed to. It’s kinda fun. 

Alright, maybe I can ramble on paper just as well as I can in person. 

I know your schedule tends to be a little unpredictable, so I guess just let me know if you want to do anything? Or we can stick to letters. Whatever you’re comfortable with. 

Sincerely,

You didn’t let you second guess yourself, folding the letter and sealing the envelope. You stood, ready to go deliver it right then.

And realized you actually had no idea where his quarters were.

You stood there, stumped, momentary panic flashing through you. This was a terrible idea. 

Your datapad chimed, and you set the letter down to check your datapad instead. 

You haven’t given me an update on your letter to Chief! Did he ever respond? If you need to go bug him, all the Spartans are on S-deck. He’s in 117, of course. Just walk like you belong and nobody will bother you. Have fun! :D 

Sometimes you were really tempted to kill Melinda… but she had her uses. 

One more deep breath to settle your nerves and you started for the nearest elevator, letter shoved into your pocket so you wouldn’t fiddle with it. Fortunately, there were plenty of directional signs on the ship. Which made sense, considering the size of the bloody thing. 

It also suited you well in finding S-deck. 

The elevator opened onto S-deck, and you stepped out cautiously. But nobody was around, not right then. Swallowing, you took a quick look around before you started walking. The first fork you came to was fortunately labeled: quarters to the left, rec room and gym to the right. You could hear activity from the right, but fortunately you needed to go left anyway. 

The doors were all clearly labeled. Some few had actual personality on the outside - one person had attached some stickers to the outside of the door, while another had painted the numbers green. 

Room 117 was in a little ways, but you found it. The door was plain, unadorned. You had no idea if he was in there or not. 

But this was enough bravery for one day. You crouched and pushed the letter under his doorway, making sure it was all the way through and couldn’t be seen from outside the door. 

Then you turned and very calmly fled. 

(You didn’t even notice a Spartan further down the hall, eyes narrowed and focused on you. You turned a corner and vanished from sight, and the speculative gaze turned to Chief’s door instead. Hmm.) 

–

John didn’t outwardly react as Linda fell into step next to him. She’d speak her piece in her own time, there was no point in rushing her. 

“Did you know you got a letter, Chief?” 

John didn’t break stride. But only through sheer force of habit. “I was unaware.” Which was true - he hadn’t been back to his quarters yet. But he had kind of hoped that he would find a letter. 

“But you’re not surprised.”

Damn. He had hoped she wouldn’t pick up on that. The alternative was worse, so John just didn’t answer. 

“John.”

“Linda.” 

She didn’t huff, didn’t demand. Just kept steady pace with him. Metaphorically wearing him down. 

Although, if he really wanted to be stubborn, that could take a long time. 

John made the turn down to his quarters, weighing pros and cons. Then he nodded once and hit the button to unlock his door.

Sure enough, there was a letter just inside the door. He picked it up and then stepped out of the way, inviting Linda in with nothing more than a tilt of his head. She stepped through after him. 

“This is the second letter I’ve received.” John tucked the letter, unread, into his desk. He would not be reading it with company present.

“Who from?”

“Does it matter?” 

“Nobody uses letters anymore.” Her head tilt was all curiosity. And when Linda was actually curious about something, she dug until she got what she wanted. 

There were a few different ways he could handle this. He could pull rank and tell her to back off. And she would. But it would not be graceful. That was his least favorite option, honestly. Any of his Spartans deserved better from him. 

So he chose a variation of the truth. 

“It’s personal.”

“Someone wrote you a personal letter.” The surprise coloring her tone was very faint, but there. 

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware who it is.”

“Yes.” John didn’t move, watching her closely. 

The two remained locked in a stalemate for a full minute, completely silent. Linda wasn’t willing to back down entirely. John wasn’t willing to give her more information just to assuage her curiosity. 

Then Linda smirked, a faint tick of her lips, an expression that had John instantly on guard. “I’m sure it will be easy to find her name,” she murmured. “I’ll recognize her when I see her again.”

Shit. If Linda had seen you leaving the letter, then she would find you again. It would just be a matter of time. 

And, intended or not, Linda could be… intense. They all could. John knew that, he’d seen the way the crew sometimes eyed them, unsure how to interact. 

But he didn’t want Linda scaring you, even inadvertently. So he made a concession. 

“You do not approach her about this. You do not investigate her.” He stared her down, waiting until she nodded her agreement to continue. Then he gave her your name. 

Linda nodded once. “What is your end goal here?” 

John shrugged, a tiny movement that nonetheless conveyed everything it needed to. Linda frowned a tiny bit, almost disapproving, before she released her breath in her version of a laugh. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, John.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled, completely dry. 

Linda shook her head, just a little, and bumped her shoulder into his as she walked back out of his room. 

John finally sat at his desk, pulling the letter out. Your handwriting was still a little chaotic, moreso than last time. As if you’d been writing in a hurry. He read the letter quickly the first time and then slowed, reading it again. Unbidden, his lips quirked. 

Well. Your rambling, as you called it, was not anything that bothered John. If anything, he found it endearing. 

Maybe he should mention that? Would it help to put you at ease? 

Shaking his head a little at himself, John debated how to answer. 

–

“Is that her?” 

A tiny nod. 

A single grunt. Keen eyes observed every movement, every flicker of emotion. 

“She’s soft.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Another grunt, quiet, contemplative. 

It wasn’t until their quarry moved that they did. 

“Think this will work?”

A soft sound, almost a laugh. “Chief is stubborn.”

A huff of acknowledgement. Really, that was all that needed to be said. 

–

You groaned softly as you walked down a hallway, rolling your shoulders. It had been a long shift fighting with some misaligned repeaters. Coordinating with Engineering was always a pain, and today had been somehow even more aggravating than normal. Your shoulders ached with lingering tension, and you didn’t want to deal with people yet.

So, wandering the ship it was. You may have sneaked through a Jeffries tube to get two decks down without having to take the elevator. Look, nobody caught you at it, it was fine. 

You weren’t even sure where you were going, but it felt good to just… go. Especially when you stuck to quieter corridors and less populated areas. 

You’d find your way back. You always did. Not like you could get that far, after all. 

Coming to a crossroads (and signposts), you blinked when you realized you were almost to the aft observatory. Well. That was… something. Huffing a little at yourself, you continued down that hallway, stepping quietly into the observatory. 

It was empty, and you breathed out a little sigh of relief, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling viewports. The quiet and the calm helped, your shoulders easing down into a more relaxed position. 

The door opened behind you and your heart plummeted. Maybe they’d leave. Or at least leave you alone. The floor shook a little under heavy, even footsteps, stopping next to you. You looked up… and up… and up, finally into a golden visor. You blinked, caught completely off guard.

“May I?” His voice was low and deep and calm, soothing to your nerves. Somehow.

“Oh! Sure! There are benches if you prefer.” You shrugged, a little bashful, still staring up at him. 

He merely lowered himself to the floor next to you, surprisingly dexterous for a man wearing nearly half a ton of armor. (Not that you’d gone and looked up all the information you could get your grubby little mitts on about the Mjolnir armor.) 

“Did you know I was here?” You tipped your head to look up at him, curious more than anything. 

His head dipped in a nod, a little hesitant. 

“Huh.” You blinked and then ducked your head. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here for me,” you murmured, warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I wanted to.” Still that even tone, matter of fact. But still soothing. 

You nodded, peeking up at him again. He had shifted the tiniest bit, arms braced on his thighs, helmet forward again. Giving you space, you realized with a warm swell of startled affection. 

“I think this is only the third time I’ve been here,” you started slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His head tipped, indicating he was listening. “The first time was an accident. I couldn’t sleep, just got switched from the overnight shift to first shift.” You paused to chuckle. “Had a few very blurry days before I adjusted, that was awful. But I was wandering around, must’ve been after midnight, and kind of blindly stumbled in here. It was so quiet - just the air filtration system, really. I sat down, figuring I’d do a bit of reading, and woke up with an awful crick in my neck and my alarm going off. Had to book it back up to communications.”

His shoulders bounced once in what might have been a laugh. 

“Can I…?” You looked more fully at him, a little shy, a little hesitant. “Do you want me to tell you more?”

He nodded. “Whatever you can share.” 

“You’re going to regret that one day,” you warned him with a little laugh. “I told you I can ramble.”

“I don’t mind.” He didn’t move, still relaxed, still waiting on you.

So you started telling him about another one of your rambles. 

“...and I really wasn’t planning on going all the way to the hangers,” you told him, trying (and failing) to hide your mirth. “Especially not from the ceiling.” 

“The Jeffries actually opened into the hanger?” He sounded… something. Dismayed? Disgusted? Something. 

“Apparently, they weren’t supposed to.” You paused. “But that one definitely did. Spent a few minutes clinging to the ladder inside the tube. There was a lot of panicked shouting. They eventually got out a ladder that reached and got me down. The whole tube had to be closed for maintenance for four days before they found the malfunction. After Captain Lasky gave me the dressing down of my life, he grudgingly admitted it was a good thing I found that malfunction before it became a problem.” 

John’s chest practically vibrated, his chuckle so quiet you could barely hear it. “That was you?”

“Oh god, you’ve heard of that?” You dropped your head, hiding behind your hands, though you were laughing. “How’d you know?”

“Roland almost asked me to go, decided on a Spartan-IV instead.”

You giggle-snorted, covering your eyes. “They were debating the merits of sending someone up with a jetpack to grab me until one of the Pelican mechanics found the ladder.” You paused purely for effect, peeking up at him between your fingers. “I never managed to tell them I’m afraid of heights.” 

That time you heard the chuckle, low and rumbling and wonderful. You hid your face again until you could contain your own laughter. 

Finally, though, you checked the time, dismayed to see how late it had gotten. (Well. Late for you, because you were the most boring person on this entire ship.) 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” You twisted your fingers together, peering up at him, caught between worry and hope. 

“No.” He shifted, facing you a little more directly. But still giving you space. Still giving you time. 

“Okay.” You paused, chewing on your lower lip. “Have you eaten?” 

He shook his head, silent, watchful. 

“Do you want to?” You were quick to continue as the implications of what you’d just asked caught up with you. “We don’t have to, of course, or another time, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He paused and then his head jerked around to the doorway. “Later,” he said, getting to his feet with a fluid grace you frankly envied. But his hand reached back down to you, helping you to your feet like you weighed nothing. (To a Spartan, you didn’t.) 

“Okay.” You weren’t going to push. Not about anything, really, but definitely not about this.

“Lasky’s calling Blue Team.” He offered the explanation without prompting.

Something in your chest relaxed, some anxiety you hadn’t even named. “I hope you won’t be late.”

“I won’t.” He sounded so easily confident, like he could bend the universe around him to his will. You half-believed he could. “Here.” He held out a letter to you. Where it had come from, you had no idea, but you took it with barely trembling fingers. 

“I’ll see you soon?” You tried to keep the hope out of your voice. You failed. 

He nodded once to you before he turned and strode out of the room, quick and purposeful. You stood frozen until the door closed behind him. 

(Outside the door, the rest of Blue Team fearlessly faced down John, having kept everyone else away from the room so he could have his time. His head dipped, the barest amount, in recognition and thanks. They fell in behind him to make their way to Lasky. No words were needed.) 

–

That meeting seemed to have signaled some kind of break in the ice between you and John. He found you more often than not after your shifts. Sometimes you two walked and talked. Sometimes you found a place to sit - the aft observatory became a favorite with you two. Sometimes you even had a meal together, although those times were more rare. John was still shy about being with you without the armor.

That was okay. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t actually trying to jump him. You genuinely liked his company, no matter what he was wearing. 

(When you told him so, quietly, one night while the two of you had a late snack in the observatory, his cheeks went pink and he ducked his head. But he also bundled you up into a hug before he left, which was warm and firm and the absolute best thing ever.) 

And you may not have been the smartest person on board, or the most observant, but even you couldn’t miss the way the rest of Blue Team hung around. You made sure to wave at them any time you saw them. Not that you got a response out of them, most of the time, but still. You liked them. 

Especially after Kelly grabbed a letter from you as you were taking it to John’s room and bolted away. You found out later that John had been sent on an unexpected mission, and Kelly had just gotten the letter to him before he’d gotten in the Pelican. 

You kind of assumed that meant they liked you, too. 

But it wasn’t all good all the time. 

While John was gone on this super secret mission, comms went down to most of the rest of the universe. Meaning a pileup of crew who had messages they wanted to send home who couldn’t. 

And it was nobody’s fault. But somehow you were blamed (and the rest of the communications staff). The whole department was working around the clock to get it fixed, but it looked like the problem wasn’t even with the Infinity, but with a relay elsewhere in space. 

Meaning there was quite literally nothing you could do. 

But a handful of ODSTs didn’t like that answer. 

“I got people to talk to back home,” one of them, the ringleader of their little group, grumbled at you. He was taller than you, using his height to try to tower over you. (That might have worked a few months ago, but now? Not a chance. John had inadvertently seen to that.) 

“I told you, there’s nothing I can do,” you insisted. But you took a step back, hoping you could escape to the mess or somewhere else populated. “The problem isn’t on the ship, and we’re not headed towards the relay to fix it.”

“Yeah? Why not? You think it’s okay to just make us wait?” The ringleader took a step closer to you. 

“That’s not–of course not!” You puffed up as much as you could. Which was… not a lot. “You think we don’t have family, too?” 

“I don’t think you do,” one of the others jeered, just to be cruel. 

But the remark still landed, and you still flinched. The other two drew in closer, like wolves scenting blood. 

“Seriously,” you tried again, pushing your shoulders down and back, “if you have a problem with the outage, talk to my CO. She’ll tell you the same thing I did. There’s nothing we can do until another ship gets to the relay.” You did your very best to glare them down. 

Either your glaring skills had improved or they got tired of taunting you, because one of them nudged the ringleader, and they all backed off in a hurry. Actually, it looked like they scrambled away from you. Which was… confusing. But. Hey! It worked! 

Turning, you hummed as you continued on to the mess. You really needed food now. 

(Behind you, Fred let out a slow breath from where he’d stepped behind some machinery to get out of your line of sight, after scaring off the ODSTs. That had been close. Too close. He made a mental note to talk to Linda and Kelly about assigning you a permanent shadow until this communications issue was cleared up, or Chief got back. You had the self-preservation instincts of a lemming.) 

–

The first thing John wanted to do after debrief was find you. But he took the time to get de-armored first, carefully not fidgeting through the process. He got dressed and was out in record time, completely ignoring the armor techs. 

He had missed you during this last mission. And that was… new. And odd. Not unacceptable, because he had felt this ache before. But it still scared him, a little, this need to see you. To be near you.

But for once, he went with it, rather than fighting it. Even though it had been a long time by now, Cortana’s words about one of them being more human than machine still rang in his mind. 

He was finally making the decision to be more human. 

He found you in the aft observatory, Kelly standing guard by the door. He nodded to her, and her return nod was easy. Good. No issues worth mentioning, then. 

The door opened and he stepped inside, finding you immediately. You were sitting with your knees up near your chest, arms loose around your legs. You looked… sad. Lonely. 

He could fix that. 

John didn’t say a word as he strode over to you, not even returning your sputtered greeting as he sat behind you. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back flush to his chest so he could curl himself around you as much as physically possible. He could feel your heart beating hard, could hear your stuttered breath. But you relaxed into his hold almost immediately, curling one hand around his. John breathed out slowly, steadily. 

For now, this was enough. He would need to explain more to you later. Maybe in a letter if he couldn’t get himself to speak the words. 

But for now? This was all he wanted. You, safe and warm and protected in his arms, the tension leaving the both of you. He tucked his head down into the crook of your neck, listening to your heart steady out. 

Yes. This was enough.