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helix-enterprises117 · 4 months

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Halo Reloaded: Rohkte

(based on @mrtobenamedlater's character!)

Colonel Holland's office was spartan, typical of military decor but with the personal touch of a few antique war relics displayed in a glass cabinet—relics from centuries past, evoking a time of earlier wars and forgotten battles. The soft hum of the air conditioner was a faint backdrop to the tension that lay like a thick veil in the room. John stood at ease across from Colonel Holland's desk, his armor almost absorbing the dim light of the late afternoon.

"Major," Holland began, his voice gruff, laced with the fatigue of endless war, "we have a unique situation. A young man named Rohkte is in our custody."

John raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet. The name 'Rohkte' had all the trappings of the Sangheili; it was not human. He braced himself, expecting a briefing on a new kind of Elite operative or spy. "An Elite, sir? Raised to infiltrate, perhaps?"

Holland shook his head, shuffling the papers on his desk before locking eyes with John. "Not exactly, Major. He’s human. But, as you rightly guessed from the name, there’s more to it. Raised by the Sangheili, from what we gather."

John’s posture stiffened, surprise registering even through his stoic façade. "A human, sir? Raised by them?" The idea was almost inconceivable—two species, enemies born of a brutal war, yet here was a bridge none had anticipated.

"Yes," Holland continued, leaning back in his chair. "Apparently, he was taken as a child. Instead of killing him, a Sangheili family raised him as one of their own. He's been with them until recently recovered during a covert operation."

"How does he... function, sir? I mean, his loyalties, his mindset?" John queried, trying to wrap his mind around the complexities such an upbringing entailed.

"That's what we need to find out, Major. His interrogation is crucial. We need to assess any intelligence he can provide about the Sangheili, and more importantly, we need to understand his allegiances." Holland’s eyes narrowed slightly. "He claims to have information that could prevent further bloodshed. This could be a massive advantage."

John nodded, processing the information. "Understood, sir. It’s... it's not every day you hear of a human living among them. Could be a treasure-trove of intel or a well-set trap."

"Exactly, Major. Your role will be oversight. Observe the interrogations, gauge his reactions, and verify his story. We need your judgment on this, John. Can he be trusted, or is this another layer of the war we hadn’t anticipated?"

"I'll start right away, sir." John’s voice held a cautious optimism, tempered by years of combat and betrayal.

Colonel Holland nodded, his expression hardening again with the weight of command. "Be thorough, Major. Dismissed."

---

In the stark, gray-walled interrogation room, John found Fred already present, standing awkwardly to one side. The sight was unexpected, and John’s steps faltered briefly as he processed his friend’s presence.

“Fred? What’s the occasion?” John queried, his tone light but curious, the metallic-green of his armor reflecting the harsh overhead lights.

Fred shifted uncomfortably, the faintest flush visible beneath his helmet's rim. “Well, it’s a bit of a shocker, John. Turns out this kid, Rohkte,” he gestured towards the young man seated behind the one-way mirror, “is my nephew. DNA confirmed it just this morning.”

John’s eyes widened behind his visor. “Your nephew? That’s...unexpected.”

“Tell me about it,” Fred muttered, then managed a wry grin. “Family reunions are going to be a nightmare.”

Behind the glass, Rohkte sat with a posture that screamed defiance and pride. Even seated, his training was evident; he held himself like a coiled spring, every muscle taut and ready.

They watched as Rohkte spoke animatedly with the interrogator, his gestures broad and confident. Even through the soundproof glass, his energy was palpable.

“So, what’s his story?” John asked, intrigued despite the bizarre situation.Fred chuckled. “Oh, it gets better. He’s been a bit of a charmer, according to the debrief. Thinks it’s perfectly fine to date, or "court" in his words, multiple women at once—”

“—especially if they're of high rank or have influential parents,” John finished, having read the brief. He shook his head in amusement. “The governor’s daughter and Admiral Benjamin’s daughter, huh? That’s aiming high.”

Fred nodded, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, says it’s tradition or something. Honor to be chosen by him. I can’t tell if he’s delusional or just really confident.”

As if on cue, Rohkte’s voice finally carried through the speaker, his tone earnest yet filled with a brash kind of pride. “In my culture, it is customary to seek partners who enhance one’s standing. Both these women are formidable, respected. It would be my honor to court them, as it would elevate their status further.”

John and Fred exchanged a look, a mixture of disbelief and entertainment crossing their features.

“Sounds like he’s taken the whole ‘noble warrior’ thing to heart,” John remarked, a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

Fred sighed dramatically. “Guess I’ll have to teach him a few things about human customs. Starting with monogamy, maybe?”

“Good luck with that,” John laughed, clapping Fred on the shoulder. “If he’s anything like his uncle, he’s going to be a handful.”

Fred groaned, but his tone was light. “Oh, don’t remind me. Let’s just try to get through this without starting an interstellar political-shitstorm.”

---

The medbay's cafeteria... John and Fred stood, watching Rohkte devour his meal with a ferocity that was both impressive and slightly unnerving. The young man's sixth plate was just like the previous five: piled high with a mountain of calories—meats, grains, and vegetables mixed in chaotic abundance.

Fred whistled lowly, his eyes wide as he observed the eating frenzy. “You weren’t kidding about his appetite. Looks like he’s trying to eat everything in the mess hall.”John chuckled, his gaze fixed on Rohkte, who seemed to inhale his food rather than chew it. “Yeah, and that’s just his first round. He’s been at it for a while now. Makes sense, though, considering the bio-augments he’s sporting.”

“True,” Fred replied, leaning against a nearby table. “His mods aren’t exactly what we’re used to, but they’re close enough to give us a run for our money. Needs all that fuel to keep the engine running, I suppose.”

Rohkte, seemingly oblivious to their presence, reached for another hefty serving of protein-rich food, stacking his plate once more. His physical prowess was undeniable, each movement precise and powerful, even in something as mundane as serving himself food.

“Look at him go,” John said, a hint of admiration in his tone. “Reminds me of Kelly’s appetite, though I think he might have her beat.”

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “That’s saying something. Kelly can out-eat a squad on her own. But this kid? He’s on another level.”

They continued to watch, the room filled with the clatter of cutlery and the low murmur of conversation from other personnel. Rohkte finally seemed to notice them, his intense gaze lifting from his plate to meet theirs.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice tinged with a confident smirk, clearly not embarrassed in the slightest by his ravenous display.“

Just making sure you’re getting enough to eat,” John quipped back, his tone friendly but teasing. “Wouldn’t want you passing out during training because you missed a snack.”

Rohkte’s smirk widened. “Fear not, I have yet to meet a meal I couldn’t conquer. But thank you for your... concern.”Fred stepped forward, offering a more serious tone. “We’re glad you’re adjusting well, Rohkte. How are you feeling with all the changes?”

Rohkte paused, considering the question for a moment before responding. “It is... different here. But I am adapting. The training is familiar, but the food is better.” He gestured to his overloaded plate with a grin. “Much better.”

John nodded, pleased with the response. “Good to hear. We’ll start some joint training sessions soon. It’ll be interesting to see how you match up with our teams.”

Rohkte’s eyes lit up with the challenge, the warrior spirit evident. “I look forward to it. It will be an honor to learn from Earth’s finest.”

As they wrapped up their conversation and Rohkte returned to his meal, John and Fred exchanged a look of silent agreement. The kid was extraordinary, a testament to the complex weave of genetics and upbringing. And while his appetite might be a marvel—or a horror—his potential was something they both recognized and respected.

#halo #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #john 117 #master chief #halo au #master chief fanfiction #master chief fanfic #halo reloaded #halo headcanon #helix studios117 #Halo oc

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pigminted · 3 months

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Halo from the other side!!!!

#halo series #john 117 #thel vadam #master chief #cortana #halo oc #halo 3 #halo infinite #halo

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empresskadia · 6 months

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I couldn't figure out how to do Raya's face and hair for a solid three hours last night. Lowkey very proud of this

BUT IT'S DONE

Based off: Post

#halo #halo series #halo oc #raya muse #john 117 #master chief #personal ship #halo x oc #spartan muse #they're both traumatized dorks #my art #holy hell #did this take forever #i gave up on the hands #I had to see some many references and bother my friends #but we did it

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biomecharnotaurus · 1 year

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Completed art commission for @coconuts-coco :>

Just average Spartan II and average Spartan IV hanging out y’know 🤗

Thank you so much for commissioning me bud <3

#John 117 #master chief #oc #original character #halo #spartan II #spartan IV #art commission

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mampfu · 7 months

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doing that twitter trend rn but i changed it with my comfort character :)

john halo 117 loves to pick up people like theyre cats

#This is canon #my oc #halo #master chief #my art #art #fanart #digital art #halo john #john halo #john 117 #halo art

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holyspiritshiro · 2 months

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So I recently started watching Halo on Paramount+ and I got to episode 8 where Makee and Chief got very intimate and I was chatting with my friend on discord and then went on a rant about how Chief and the other Spartans could have enhanced fertility✨

Enjoy

Fanfic writers do what you will with this🫡

Tag me in any fics

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achangeinreality · 3 months

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Hi it’s been a minute. I started writing this like 3 years ago and then forgot about it so I finished it the other day lol. I’m writing more but this is what I got so far. Hope y’all enjoy, I did a lot of research into the timeline of events so I hope it’s decent. Linda x OC

Encounters Part 1

Draco III 2545

Ira was terrible at this. War, survival, guns. And here she was crawling in the mud, covered in blood and burns, under the fallen ruins of Draco III. Ira wasn’t sure where she was going, but she needed to get as far away from the Kig-Yar and Unggoy as fast as possible. They had taken to savagely tearing apart the humans in this colony. And she had managed to get away. The thing was, she was a marine. A marine who had been sent to protect said colonists. This was her home world and within an hour of fighting, it should have been known that her team didn’t stand a chance. They had fought hard, but their efforts hadn't been enough. As far as Ira knew, she was the only survivor. If she ever made it back to safety, this would be a surprise to anyone who knew Ira. She was barely out of military school, graduating almost out of pure luck. Her aim was sharp but not quick enough. Ranged weapons were her saving grace but even then, she was terrible at staying calm and sometimes missed her shots out of nervousness. Hand to hand combat was the worst for her. She was relatively tall, 5’9, but too skinny and uncoordinated which often resulted in her defeat. So why had she joined the UNSC? Well-

“What in the hell,” she said. Down below, Ira saw flocks of Unggoy and Kig-Yar running and fighting. But from what? There seemed to be some sort of team fighting back but she was too far to tell. Ira had made it very far up the mountain so the movements below were barely noticeable. Shots could be heard that was for sure. It had to be UNSC, which was good news because her chances of getting off this godforsaken planet had just increased. Further ahead she even saw a Pelican. But before she could start heading in that direction, she heard a snarl and the sound of a plasma pistol missing her. Ira screamed and looked up to see a Kig-Yar about to fire his next shot. Ira had been lucky to be under the remains of buildings because it allowed her to roll and hide further. She had shouldered a BR55 Rifle, but at this angle and with all the debris around her it was impossible to try and equip it. The Kig-Yar kept shooting, and the shots were getting closer since they were starting to burn through the debris. But then-boom, the crack of a sniper rang clearer than before and the Jackal’s head was no more. Ira held her breath, not daring to move. She stayed put for about 2 minutes when she heard footsteps coming towards her. Ira looked up from her position to see a massive figure kneel to pull the debris off of her.

“I am Spartan-058 with the UNSC. Are you okay?”

The voice was feminine and level but mechanical. It had a calming effect on Ira, who’s heart beat was currently well above a normal range from her close encounter with death. But she was bewildered, a Spartan? Ira had heard of them, her teammates had mentioned… her teammates. Right, all dead.

“Just a bit burnt up and bloody, but otherwise yeah I’m okay,” Ira replied shakily. Ira had to crane her neck up to look at the Spartan’s faceplate, as she towered over her. Spartan-058 nodded and offered a hand. Ira took it and was gently pulled out of her hiding spot. “Thanks.. I. I’m Private Hagan.”

“You’re bleeding,” Spartan-058 said to her. And indeed, Ira craned her head sideways to see fresh blood seeping through the sleeve of her shoulder. Before Ira could reply, the soldier motioned her to sit down. It was three gashes on her upper arm, right below the shoulder armor. This had been from a jackal having grabbed her as she escaped the carnage but Ira had ripped free of its grasp after shooting it in the face. Ira was covered in caked, dry blood and dirt from head to toe so fresh blood stood out. She rolled up her sleeve as best as possible and Spartan-058 began to clean the wound and said, “The rest of your team was killed by the covenant but we managed to avenge them. That Pelican is going to get us out of here. Do you know any others that could have survived?”

“No. Everyone’s dead.”

Spartan-058 paused and stared at her for half a second, at least, her helmet did. Ira wasn’t sure what else to say. She wasn’t really sure what exactly had happened amidst all the shooting and chaos. And then there were the fucking grunts and jackals who had started tearing into her teammate’s flesh. Tearing them apart and ravaging them mercilessly.

“Although there were a lot of things I didn’t see. Well things I wish I hadn’t seen as well. But there’s a chance I missed if anyone else got away.”

“We’ll check the surrounding area then. I’m done bandaging your wound so I’ll let my team know to do a quick search before we leave. Let’s go.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ira replied quietly. It had felt like a slap to the face hearing of her team’s death. Despite having been there for it, hearing it from somebody else made it much more real. They stood up and Ira followed behind the Spartan as they began to search for others. The shock of almost dying and being saved had begun to clear away enough for Ira to assess her situation and savior. She had never seen a Spartan other than in some propaganda. There had even been talk that they weren’t even real, just a publicity stunt for morale. But during boot camp, she had overheard one of the new drill sergeants discussing his encounter with a Spartan on the field with another sergeant. To say she was impressed was an understatement. Spartan-058 was extremely tall, built as hell, and held that sniper with such ease you’d think it was weightless. She was curious to see the face beneath the goggled helmet. Overall, Ira did her best not to stare and stay focused on their objective.

“I have a contact about 15 meters ahead. Blood on her face, brown hair, and.. a name tag that says ‘Gutierrez’, sound familiar?”, asked S-058 while looking through her scope.

“Yes! She was in our squad!” Ira exclaimed. Sila Gutierrez had been one of the more experienced members of the team. She had been helpful and welcoming to Ira. It lightened Ira’s heart to know that someone else had made it out alive.

“Gutierrez, it’s me Ira, do you copy?”, Ira spoke into her team’s comm system.

“H-gn is- you?”, a static voice replied.

“Yes this is Hagan! I’m with a Spartan, she’s got eyes on you,” Ira explained excitedly. Before Sila could respond, S-058 stopped Ira with a hand on her shoulder and joined the conversation, “I see you but you’re not alone. There’s some covenant surrounding you. I will take out the ones closest to you to give you a chance to start running towards us. Be ready to shoot anyone that gets in your way. Private Hagan will be covering you as well. Any objections?”

Ira’s hands grew sweaty. She could do it; provide cover fire. It just made her nervous to possibly miss and hit her teammate. Or even worse, miss and let her teammate get killed by the enemy. But it was a solid, straightforward plan so she couldn’t exactly object to it without revealing how useless she was at her job. At least she had courage.

“No objections ma’am,” both Ira and Sila replied.

“On my first shot then,” S-058 said. She was laying down on her stomach and Ira was crouched next to her at the ready. Then there was a moment of silence.

Boom- cracked the rifle. At that, Ira could see Sila running and Covenant falling. S-058’s rifle kept cracking and Ira heard a few more shots being fired from Sila’s pistol. She looked through her Battle Rifle’s scope and began to shoot at a Jackal that was coming at Sila from her right side. This went on for a few minutes until Sila reached them. Despite being covered in several wounds and running with an obvious limp, Sila saluted S-058 and stood at attention.

“At ease, soldier. Do your wounds need immediate attention?” S-058 asked.

“My ankle’s been shot. The plasma bolt didn’t go through, it mainly grazed me but it still hurts pretty bad and I ran out of first aid supplies after tending to my stomach.” Sila lifted her shirt and jacket up a bit to reveal the lower half of her torso had been wrapped. “The bastards bit and clawed me good before I could get away,” she explained.

“Let me help, I still have supplies,” Ira offered as she pulled out her kit and got to work on Sila’s ankle. As she did this, S-058 updated her team on their situation and announced that they would be returning soon. It didn’t seem as if anyone from her team found anyone else but that wasn’t a surprise to Ira.

“It’s good to see you alive, Hagan. Didn’t expect that from a rookie but you made it through the bloodshed,” Sila told Ira.

“I didn’t exactly expect to make it out alive. I still can’t believe what those bastards did to our team,” Ira replied quietly. Sila didn’t respond, just hummed in response. As she finished up, S-058 announced, “We need to get going, the covenant is going to start glassing the planet in less than an hour. We need to get onto that Pelican as fast as possible.”

They got up and began to jog behind S-058. As they reached the downward slope of the mountain, Sila began to slow down. Ira helped her move down the mountain but she was too heavy for her. S-058 noticed and before Sila could object, she picked her up with one arm and slung her over her shoulder. Ira stared in awe as they started going down the mountain faster this time. It shouldn’t have surprised her with how easily Spartan-058 carried her S-99 rifle, but it shocked her to witness the pure display of strength. Sila, who was now facing Ira, since Ira was jogging behind S-058, looked up to meet Ira’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirked but said nothing, much to Ira’s relief. Though, Ira’s face still burned and she averted her gaze.

It was so quick and it came almost out of nowhere. Ira happened to be looking sideways when she caught a small movement in her peripheral vision. She turned to see a tall, glittering figure a few feet away from them. The only way she noticed was because Draco-III’s sun was now facing them which caused the figure to shine slightly.

“GET DOWN!” Ira yelled. She grabbed at Spartan-058’s armor and pushed downwards, covering Sila’s body as she did. Luckily, the Spartan had quick reflexes and she went down on her own accord almost immediately. But before they had time to turn and shoot or hide, the unmistakable sound of a plasma rifle went off and shot Ira square in the back. Spartan-058 pulled Ira against her front with her free arm as she quickly moved behind the closest rock. Ira breathed heavily. She could feel the plasma shot definitely having burned through her armor.

“HAGAN ARE YOU OKAY?” Sila yelled above the sounds of the plasma rifle still shooting in their direction. Spartan-058 let go of Sila, gently shifted Ira off of herself to the ground on her left and said, “Tend to her while I take care of this Elite.” And with that, Sila scrambled to Ira’s side as Spartan-058 shot back at the Elite a few times. She checked their entire surrounding area for more enemies before turning to Ira.

Sila had already filled the cavity in Ira’s back with Biofoam and a pain reliever. But Ira wasn’t sure she would make it off this planet at this rate. She was in pain, so much pain. And she could feel herself getting heavier and heavier. Blood thrumming in her ears, the sunlight feeling too bright for her eyes, and a terrible nausea stirring in her stomach.

“—said did you hear me? Private Hagan”, Spartan-058 tensely spoke as she grabbed Ira’s face to look up at her helmet.

“oh… hi,” Ira replied weakly. She hadn’t realized anyone had been speaking to her. In fact the only thing that she was acutely aware of was the dull, burning pain in her back and the fact that she was not so slowly dying.

“We’re going to get you off this planet Private, don’t let your mind wander. That was a hell of a thing you did, you saved our asses,” S-058 said as she moved to pick Ira up. ‘Oh, now it’s my turn to be hoisted like a sack of potatoes,’ Ira thought happily.

“If this wasn’t such a shitty situation I’d be making fun of you right now Hagan,” Sila said to Ira through a private channel on their comms. She was referring to the lazy grin on Ira’s face and the way she happily, albeit weakly, clung to Spartan-058’s torso like a koala. Ira groaned, both from the spikes of pain from them going down the mountain and from the embarrassment of her actions. Painkillers always made a bigger fool out of her than she could of herself on a daily basis. “Thank you for having our back Ira. I know we all gave you a lot of shit for being the newbie so when we get back, I’m buying you all the rounds you want,” she added; this time on the regular channel.

“How are you feeling?” S-058 inquired as they kept going down the mountain, almost nearing the bottom.

“Really bad,” Ira replied weakly. But it was comforting to feel the spartan’s strong arm holding her in place-

“… doing good, stay with us. We’re almost to the bottom,” she heard S-058 say back. ‘Wow I’m really high,’ thought Ira. Ira heard Sila snort loudly as she realized that she had said that out loud.

“Oh man I’m never gonna let you live this down Hagan,” Sila chuckled.

“Hey.. I’m injured.. stop that..,” Ira trailed, feeling the nausea swirl around her stomach as she vomited. For once in her life, luck was on her side as she had managed to prop herself up in time, avoiding throwing up down S-058’s back.

“Oh fuck-, it’s gonna be okay Ira, we’re almost there,” Sila said, a slight panic in her voice. This had to do with the fact that both blood and bile had come out of Ira’s mouth.

“Mm really sorry.. missed you at least,” Ira told S-058 in a trembling voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” S-58 replied, voice showing no sign of distress, speeding up now that they were on flat ground.

They were now close enough to see the rest of Blue Team boarding the Pelican. Five minutes later the trio was also getting onto the Pelican. They had made it. Although at this point, Ira was close to giving out. Spartan-058 handed her to a medic. She looked down at Ira, who had passed out by now and sighed.

“Linda you need to get harnessed in, we’re taking off,” John-117 said to her over TEAMCOMM. She nodded and obliged, leaning her helmeted head on the wall of the Pelican.

Ira woke up. She felt groggy and heavy, as though she were wearing a suit of rocks. Moving felt hard and her brain felt like it was lagging. More painkillers I see, she thought. Wait.. I’m.. alive? As her mind continued to wander, she felt a figure standing over her. It was a woman, a very tall woman with short, blood red hair and piercing green eyes. Pale as can be, scars littered across her face, and wearing Spartan armor.

“Welcome back. How do you feel?,” she asked, voice familiar albeit less mechanical.

Ira stared. She looked up in amazement once again. Her brain was too slow to be able to handle any interaction right now let alone with this woman. She grinned at the Spartan and before her brain could process her words she loudly replied with, “You’re really really pretty”.

The Spartan stared back at her blankly and uncomfortably. Linda heard Fred chortle behind her, followed by Kelly cackling. She could feel warmth blooming across her face and walked back to her seat, promptly putting on her helmet. Sila was staring in Ira’s direction with a horrified expression on her face. And Linda just knew that John was staring at her through his helmet.

“Looks like Linda’s got an admirer,” Kelly said over her external speakers, still laughing.

“I didn’t realize wooing young soldiers was in your skill repertoire Linda,” Fred added.

“One more word and I’m going to throw you out of this Pelican,” Linda threatened.

“Leave her alone guys, she’s got a date to plan for,” John added in the most monotone voice possible.

“You too?” Linda exclaimed, swiveling around to face him. John said nothing but shrugged nonchalantly

Fred, and Kelly snickered while Sila continued to stare at Ira in shock. For 4 hours they had been flying. It had been a dreadful mission and the seriousness of the situation had fallen heavy on them all. The sudden break in silence and humorous distraction had been welcome due to the dread that they all felt. Having watched their fellow humans being torn apart by the Covenant had been revolting. The Spartans’s blood had burned at witnessing such a cruel and barbaric massacre. Knowing they at least could avenge their fellow brethren made the grief easier to shoulder.

It took some time for Ira’s words to bounce from her ears to her brain and understand what had just happened. She lay there numbly, staring up at the pelican’s ceiling, eyes widening in horror.

“Oh… oh no…” she groaned groggily. Fred had the grace to offer some comfort, “It’s okay soldier, painkillers and all that medicine is hard on me too. I don’t always say what I mean.”

“Well I did mean it, I just didn’t mean to say it, sir.” Kelly wouldn’t stop giggling at the poor soldier’s misfortune and at Linda’s uncomfortable silence. Only until Linda’s leg kicked out in the direction of Kelly’s shin did John intervene.

“Kelly, stop antagonizing her. And Linda, control yourself. You’re Spartans, not schoolyard children so act like it.” John said sternly. “Yes, sir”, both women replied. Kelly’s shoulders slumped a bit as she leaned back in her seat. Nobody said anything for a long time. At least that’s what it felt like for Linda, who was still completely red and burning underneath her helmet. No one had ever given her a compliment based on her appearance, let alone a subordinate. It wasn’t something she sought out or thought about either, what with her profession and the war. But she did feel a deep sense of embarrassment for the poor soldier who was surely going to remember this moment for the rest of her life. However, considering the gravity of their current situation, Linda supposed this should really be the least of anyone’s worries.

To Ira’s misfortune, another god forsaken thought crossed her mind and was already on the way out the hatch when Sila stood up and covered Ira’s mouth.

“Stop it, stop talking,” Sila gritted through her teeth. Ira looked up at her in surprise and said nothing. They stayed looking at each other that way for a moment until Sila moved her hand away. Of all the deployments and missions, never had one been so devastating. Sila had lived on Draco III for most of her life and was proud to call herself a soldier when the time came to defend her home. She had been part of the military for a few years and was well on her way to leading her own team. When this conglomeration of alien races landed on her planet, reality of the situation fully dawned on her. They were being invaded by the Covenant and no amount of training could save them. Not after the Covenant obliterated the planet’s mechanical defenses and completely destroyed any fighting chance that the inhabitants and military force on Draco III had. She fought to protect her home and its civilians but failed in every single way. Only her and Ira survived, and now, only half the planet’s surface stayed intact. The other half had been mercilessly glassed, and here was Ira, this useless fool completely unaware of what happened to their planet flirting with a Spartan. It was infuriating that one could be so carefree and empty of grief in a situation like this. The least she could do was keep the woman quiet for the rest of the ride. If the circumstances were different, this would have been funny. If she hadn’t just watched her entire planet get ravaged by beasts for hours while fighting to detain the same fate befalling her, she would have cracked a smile. Sila couldn’t fault the Spartans for making light of the situation. After all, among the slaughter, she caught sight of their teams furiously hitting back with everything they had. Battle like nothing she could have imagined, raged before her as she witnessed alien after alien fall by their hands and guns. The felled Covenant couldn’t have received a more fitting reprisal to their actions by the Spartans now sitting before her. Everyone coped with grief and anger in their own way. And she suspected they had coped on the battlefield. Ultimately, murderous vengeance was an acceptable form of coping that Sila could get behind. And for that, she couldn’t be more grateful to them.

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful. The Spartans remained silent, Sila stayed in deep thought, and Ira had thankfully fallen back asleep. By the time they landed on a space station though, Ira was awake and much more coherent than before. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything to any of them though. When she had woken up for the second time, she thought about the battle that they had all just survived and remembered that everyone she grew up with was now dead. Her home was gone, her friends and family were gone, and now her dignity was as well. The complete and utter fear that gripped her at the thought of being deployed again swam around in her brain. There was absolutely no way that she would survive another fight. This had been pure, sheer, dumb luck. Ira was a coward through and through. She had followed orders and fought back, yes. But when everyone on her team was dead and she was the last one standing, she ran. Ira had seen the Grunts, Elites, and Jackals advance and tear through the lines of soldiers with their bare hands and murder every single one of them. This was not a fate that she could handle falling to. So she ran. Ira hid under the bodies of her teammates and crawled as quickly and quietly as she could in the opposite direction that the aliens were focused on. Then, when the coast was clear, she stood up and ran as fast and hard as her legs could carry her. There was no place or plan in her mind on how she would get off the planet or call for help. The only thing that she could hear was the screaming and gunfire over and over in her head. The ripping and squelching of her teammates flesh The blood gushing everywhere. And the laughter of the enemy. It haunted her. Once she had reached the top of Mount Keldai and her legs finally gave out from under her did she finally stop to think, what now? What the hell was she going to do? As far as her eyes could see, there was no one left fighting back, Until… until, out in the distance, she could see a skirmish of some sort. In the confusion and chaos of the whole situation, some Pelicans must have landed to deploy the force that she assumed was the cause of the skirmish. The last thing she wanted was to go back down there but it was a risk that she was willing to take. And now, she was laying in silence alive and well, absolutely dreading the thought of making eye contact with anyone. It was funny how her life had quite literally flashed before her eyes, yet embarrassing herself and the Spartan that was responsible for her survival was at the forefront of her mind. Gore and guts be damned.

When they departed from the Pelican, Ira and Sila were escorted off to a different part of the station by a Sergeant that neither had met before. Ira was placed in a wheelchair. As Blue Team went their separate way, Ira looked back for a second to see them walking away. Sila smacked her upside the head and growled, “Eyes forward”. Ira frowned and replied, “I wasn’t being a creep, I was just wondering where they were being taken to.” The Sergeant replied to Ira, “To areas of much higher clearance than we can even comprehend.”

The devastation of Draco III hit the UNSC hard. Everyone knew that the Covenant were brutal and completely lethal. But nothing to this level of barbarity was there a record of. Linda couldn’t get the images of all those people being massacred on the surface out of her head. By the time the Spartans were able to land on the planet it was already too late. But this counterattack was not done to try and save the planet, it was done out of pure rage and retribution on behalf of the Spartan IIs. The night that they made it back to the nearest space shuttle, Linda stayed awake for a long time. She was lying on a bunk too small for her size and just barely strong enough to not give out under her weight. This wasn’t the problem, for a bed too small was still a bed and certainly more comfortable than anything she had been allowed as a child in boot camp. Those beds were certainly made out of hard tac. The problem was the noise. The noise that she couldn’t silence in her head. Linda was basically an expert in silence and she could meditate for endless hours. It helped her stay focused on and off the battlefield. Zen often allowed her to quiet the horrors of war in her mind when it was time to rest as well. But not tonight. Tonight she was wide awake and fully aware of her cramped, sore body.

“Are you still awake?”, came a soft voice from another bunk. It was Kelly, who obviously couldn’t sleep either. Linda sighed and rolled over carefully. She answered back quietly, “Yeah, can’t sleep.” Neither said anything for a moment until Kelly replied with, “Sorry for laughing at you earlier.” Linda smiled and turned to face Kelly. “If it wasn’t at the expense of Private Hagan then I might have laughed too.” Kelly grinned and said, “I’m sure she appreciated that.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do. It couldn’t have been easy for a rookie to survive that massacre and then get shot at the end of it. I felt for her,” Linda replied. Kelly hummed in agreement and closed her eyes. “All of those bloody deaths and then out of nowhere a Spartan comes to her rescue. I’m sure she sees you with a lot of esteem.” Linda grumbled out, “Clearly.” Kelly giggled as silently as she could to avoid waking the other Spartans. Linda smiled and reached out a hand to swat at her. “Don’t make a deal out of it at the ceremony tomorrow!,” Linda whisper-yelled. Kelly saluted Linda and said seriously, “Being professional is my specialty sir, wouldn’t dream of insubordination”. This time it was Linda’s turn to let out a small chuckle. “Whatever, go to sleep. Dream of bothering someone else,” she said and laid on her back again. Kelly did the same and closed her eyes with a smile on her face. Linda looked up at the ceiling again with a calmer mind and more relaxed eyes.

0500

Linda woke up to the gray, dimly lit room that she fell asleep in the night before. It was quiet and cold in the room. Her stomach growled quietly as she got up to start her day. Even though it was early and she had only just woken up, her thoughts were already lingering on the day before. After arriving from their mission, all of the Spartan teams had been summoned to a debriefing. It took so long for all of the teams to debrief the counsel that by the end of it, her brain felt like mush. That was probably her least favorite thing about being a Spartan, all of the after battle talking. She much preferred action to words and was more content with receiving another mission as opposed to reliving the last one.

Today would be a respite from the action. An impromptu funeral and award service would be held at 0700 hours. It was an earlier time than usual for this type of service but this was because the next day, the teams would start getting shipped out to different regions to continue the fight. The death toll on Draco III both of civilian and military lives had been extreme though and it was deemed necessary to hold a service for those lost on the planet, and an award ceremony for the two survivors that made it.

Her morning consisted of a quick hour workout, breakfast, and a shower. When she returned to the dorm to get ready, Fred was fretting in one of the mirrors. He never did like the gray streaks that came with their augmentations. It made him oddly self conscious and Linda could see that he was trying his best to tuck them into his military beret. For what it was worth, Linda always thought it looked cool. She approached him and said, “Fred, are you going to join us in the mess hall after the event?”

”Maybe after a haircut,” he replied glumly. She frowned and turned him to face her, the physical contact being rare between Spartans. “Your hair is fine Lieutenant. Would you rather bright red instead? Besides, it makes you look mysterious.” Fred gave her a small smile and replied with, “Some things never change I suppose. And you’ve got great hair by the way.” Linda let him go as she reached for the comb on the counter. “I know,” she replied. Fred snorted and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you in a few, thanks for the pep talk.” And with that, he left. Linda looked at herself in the mirror for a second. She never disliked her hair, it was unique. None of the other Spartans shared the same combination of features. Bright red hair, green eyes, pale skin. Though, the culmination of scars and bruises were commonalities amongst her brothers and sisters.

Linda had never been interested or versed on the topic of makeup. As of late however, Kelly had come across some mascara that she coveted in secret and reserved it for special occasions. She was careful to apply a very thin and clean layer of it. Linda smiled at the memory of the first time Kelly tried applying it. She had covered her eyes in black, sticky splotches and only made it worse when she tried to rub it off. As the years went by, Kelly tried to convince Linda to give it a try. It wasn’t that she was against the look, it was that she did not like the idea of sticking a wand full of black goop so close to her eyes that one mistake could cost her her greatest asset. Until finally, one day, Linda gave in during a mission when all hope seemed lost. She told Kelly, “If we make it out of this, I’ll let you put that black stuff on my eyes for the next ceremony we have.” Unfortunately for Linda, this was said ceremony and not only did she remember the promise, but Kelly did as well. She was standing in the back of the room next to her trunk, watching Linda with an unhinged look on her face. Linda made eye contact with her through the mirror and rolled her eyes, not even bothering to argue. She walked over to Kelly and sat down on the bed with a huff.

”Just don’t blind me.”

0700

The funeral part of the ceremony had just begun and Linda was sitting in the back, surrounded by several different Spartans. They were all noticeably taller. Linda’s eyes felt heavy and uncomfortable. Although Kelly had only put a very small amount of the stuff on her eyes, she wasn’t used to having anything on them and was insanely aware of the shift in weight. Every nerve in her body was begging her to rub her eyes but she fought the urges and sat quietly through the service. The death toll was incredibly high and a weight settled in Linda’s chest as she thought about the current planets that were currently at risk for the same fate. Her hatred for the Covenant burned deep inside her as saw the pictures of the victim’s faces. While she had been fighting on the planet, not one person looked like this. All of the remains were shredded, bloodied, torn apart, or completely indescribable. It sickened her to witness the sheer, pointless slaughter. What was the point? Why? What did humanity do to deserve such a terrible fate? She may never learn the answers to those questions, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she would do everything in her power to fight back in the memory of the lost and butchered.

The funeral was lengthy and there was a short intermission before the award ceremony. That would not be long for it was only to recognize Private Hagan and SPC Gutierrez. As Linda settled back in her seat, she looked over to the front to see a tall, young, shapely woman in formal attire with black onyx hair pulled tightly into a bun. She had tan olive skin, soft facial features, and familiar hazel eyes. She too was wearing an appropriate amount of mascara. The woman was using a cane to stand straight, though she looked pained. It took Linda a second to realize that this was Private Hagan. It’s not that she was blind, but the amount of grime and gore that covered Private Hagan when Linda found her had been so much that she had little to no idea what the woman actually looked like. SPC Gutierrez was standing next to her. A slighly older woman with a light brown, short bob. She was shorter than Private Hagan though her features were much sharper and her blue eyes seemed haunted. Linda could see that this had not been her first time on the battlefield, but it had likely been her worst experience. Admiral Parangosky presented Ira with a Purple Heart medal. She gave a short speech about valor and courage, and then moved on to present SPC Gutierrez with a Medal of Commendation. As the ceremony ended, Linda made her way over to Pvt. Hagan. She tried to make herself as small as possible as she became acutely aware that she was at least a foot taller than the Private. The Private’s eyes widened slightly and her skin paled as she saw Linda approach her. She began to salute Linda but she waved the salute away.

”This is your ceremony, no need for formality,” Linda said. ”Yes, sir. Thank you sir. What can I do for you?”, Ira replied quietly. ”I wanted to thank you for what you did. It was very brave of you to take a hit for me and your fellow comrade,” said Linda. Ira’s mouth fell agape, obviously taken aback by the response. She said, “I would do it again, sir. If it weren’t for you, I’d be one of the mentioned dead at the funeral.” Before Linda could reply, Ira added, “I also want to apologize to you for my insubordination. What I said to you was completely out of line and I must have embarrassed you just as much as I embarrassed myself.” Linda looked at her for a moment. Ira’s pupils were dilated and she looked tense. No doubt the memory had been gnawing at her. She replied, “Don’t let it bother you any longer, Private. I understand you were under the influence of painkillers.” Ira gave her a small smile and then looked away quickly. She let out a small breath and said, “I… yes. I am very susceptible to the side effects of painkillers. However, had the circumstances been completely different, and my rank a lot higher, I would have still meant what I said.” This time, she blushed visibly but her eye contact held strong. Linda felt a warmth crawl up her neck and ears. She was taken aback, completely unsure of how to respond. Her silence must have spoken volumes because Private Hagan’s shoulders dropped and she looked down at her cane. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to the infirmary. The doctor only cleared me for the ceremony. I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

Ira walked past Linda, limping as quickly as she could on her cane. Linda felt so out of her element that all she could do was watch Private Hagan leave. It was frustrating, there were thoughts and feelings that she wanted to express but couldn’t find the right words for them. Was she being hit on? No one in her 34 years had ever declared such a thing and then stared right into her soul while saying it. How was someone supposed to respond to something like that? She wasn’t exactly in any sort of position to entertain the woman, rank and career path the culprits. Her training as a child was tailored to survive and thrive in any sort of situation. It was a ruthless, cold, perilous, and frightening childhood but it made her who she was today. However, a course in courting was not one she had been provided with and it showed.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kelly making her way over to her. Oh no she thought. Spartans were graced with superior hearing due to their augmentations. And she knew for a fact that Kelly had heard every single sentence. She didn’t say anything, just looked at Linda curiously with a raised eyebrow. Kelly hand signed, want to take a walk? Linda nodded and the two walked out of the room. She could still see Private Hagan making her way towards the infirmary in the distance. Kelly and Linda walked to their rooms and changed in silence. Afterwards, they made their way to the training center towards the running track. Instead of running though, they walked. Kelly couldn’t take the silence anymore. Finally, she burst out, “What the hell was that about?” Linda sighed and looked up at the ceiling hoping for interplanar transcendence. She answered back, “I have no idea.”

”No I mean what’s wrong with you? You left the poor woman hanging, that was terrible!” Linda risked whiplash with how quickly she turned to look at Kelly and asked, “How was I supposed to respond to that? I’m not exactly versed in the art of charisma.” Kelly raised an eyebrow and looked at her in disbelief. “What?” Linda asked. Kelly didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her. Finally she said, “Oh my god do you- BOOM! A loud, resounding roar shook the station and knocked both Spartans down. The ground shook and dust from the ceiling rained down on them. Alarms blared and over the comm system could be heard, We are under attack, all personnel report to your stations. Both women sprung up and ran towards the exit. As they ran, they received a personal comm from John-117. “Report to the bridge. I'll brief you all soon.” They acknowledged him and kept running. People were running and yelling orders all around Linda. As she arrived at the bridge, the only thing she could think was, here we go again

#halo shitpost #linda 058 #Linda 058 x oc #kelly 087 #john 117 #fred 104 #dumb stuff #the idea came to me in the middle of the night 3 years ago #more to come #blue team #master chief #halo #fanfic #bunch of lesbians

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inthatfandom · 6 months

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Nightmares

Summary: Claire-118 and John-117 find comfort in each other after what they saw on the Halo terrorizes their dreams. (Set in the show universe after the finale of season 2)

Word Count: 1,068

Authors Note: Hey guys! Claire-118 is my OC that I've been having brain worms about lol. She failed her augmentation but was able to rehabilitate and rejoin the rest of the Spartans, becoming the leader of Gold Team. She refused to let Master Chief fight on that Halo alone. (Also ik we haven't seen the Gravemind in show yet but we r manifesting a season 3 so shhhh)

Also I've never written fanfic before so constructive criticism is much appreciated!

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“It's open Bear.” John called out from beyond the door of his makeshift room aboard the UNSC flagship the Spartans found themselves on.

Claire paused for a second upon hearing his old nickname for her, he hadn't called her Bear since they were 13. She pressed the pad of her finger to the biometric lock and stood there silently as the door slid open with a quiet hiss.

His room was pitch black.

Suddenly she didn't feel like a Spartan, she felt like a child. Standing in the threshold of his room she felt the kind of fear she hadn’t felt since augmentations, the shadows of the room slithered in her periphery, their tendrils climbing up her arms. She hugged them around her torso to keep them at bay. Technically, Claire knew nothing was there, she had her ability to see in near total darkness to thank for that. But tonight, her mind was playing tricks on her.

Though, part of her was grateful for the darkness, the shadows. They hid her momentary weakness, her shame, from him. She hadn’t needed to sleep beside him for comfort since they were young children, new to the Spartan Program and terrified of everything. Now they were warriors, weapons; grown and honed for violence. There wasn't supposed to be anymore room for whatever the fuck was happening right now. This… innate need for comfort that humans so stupidly sought out in other humans when they felt scared. He had never judged her for it then, but for the briefest moment, Claire thought he might judge her for it now.

John’s quiet, yet gruff voice pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts and further into his room.

“Come ‘ere.”

It didn't sound like he had been sleeping either, she mused to herself as she padded over to the empty side of the cot. No more words needed to be exchanged between them. And any thoughts of judgment she had washed away as he held the thin blanket open as an invitation. He knew just as well as she did why she was there.

Ever since they got back from the Halo, Claire’s nights had been filled with horrors beyond her comprehension. And it had everything to do with that … thing … they encountered down there. Despite giving them its name, she refused to use it. Once upon a time her mother had told her that knowing the true name of evil gave you power over it, but Claire didn't feel powerful when it's name reverberated in her skull. She just felt hopeless.

But that hopeless feeling rolled off her shoulders the moment she slid under the thim blanket and into his warmth. She didn't even need to be right next to him to feel it, in fact, she was on the edge of cot, but he radiated heat. Ever since their augmentations, most of them ran hot; but Claire rarely did. A consequence of having failed them once, she figured.

As she settled down into the small cot, John turned onto his side to face her.

“Was it a nightmare?” He questioned softly. Never one for small talk, her Johnny.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I feel bad waking the rest of gold team up whenever I have one. Figured I'd just come wake you up instead.”

John huffed softly at that last comment, seeing his tiny smile helped Claire relax into the pillow.

“Just like old times, Bear. At this point I'd expect nothing less of you.” He jested back at her.

There it was again, that damn nickname. If John called her that one more time Claire was certain she would start to cry. Which she rarely did, but it brought forth bittersweet memories she'd rather not dwell on when she already felt this emotionally frazzled.

Slowly, she came to the realization that his warmth was tenfold and she could make out the slightly crooked line of his nose. The smell of UNSC issued soap was a familiar one. She must have subconsciously moved closer to him during their short conversation. She prayed to whatever gods would listen that he didn't notice.

“Yeah well you know me, I'm nothing if not consistent.” She replied softly, fighting the heavy feeling in her eyelids. She would give anything to stay awake and talk to him for a few more minutes.

John just looked at her, that small smile still gracing his lips. Even in her exhausted state, Claire noticed that his normally sad, hazel eyes were softer than she had ever seen them. Figuring out why was a problem for tomorrow, she thought.

When he realized she was fighting sleep, he whispered for her to get some rest. They had a long fight ahead of them and–

“I want you by my side.” He confessed.

“I've always been by your side.” She whispered back.

As Claire-118 slipped into unconsciousness, John-117 waited for her breathing to level out and her whole body to relax before brushing a strand of hair out of her face and gently pushing it behind her ear. His fingertips repeated the pattern, softly caressing the side of her face and neck before moving onto the slope of her shoulder and down the dip of her arm. He couldn't put the feelings he had for her into words, he didn't even know where to begin. He cared for her ever since he first met her, a quiet little girl, even quieter than him, but so fiercely determined to beat the odds. Years later, when 14 year old John found out she didn't beat the odds and had been put in a coma after failing the augmentations, he felt as though someone had ripped his heart out. Not even the pellet could subdue the horrible empty feeling he felt during formations when he would look to his side and find a gaping hole where his Claire Bear used to stand.

No, he thought, she hadn't always been by his side. But she was now, and he realized with startling clarity that he would do anything in his power to keep her there. In his nightmare earlier, he was about to attack the Gravemind with nothing but an energy sword as it dangled Claire above the abyss; jolting awake when he was too late. John stopped his tracing motion to wrap his arm around her back and pull her closer to his chest, holding her tight he buried his face in her neck. He would never lose her again.

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@authortobenamedlater @helix-studios117 @ageless-aislynn @pelgraine @makowrites @jellotherelol @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask

#halo tv show #master chief #john 117 #halo #master chief x oc

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indigograceauthor · 2 months

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Chapter 23: Riz's Date - Nothing Like You

#john 117 #master chief #talia perez #john 117/talia perez #riz-028 #riz-028/oc #halo tv show #halo tv: silver timeline #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #romance #romcom in space #non canon #au

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lialacleaf · 8 months

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The Spartan and His Pyro:

Poor Past Actions, and Their Present Consequences

Synopsis: Catherine has regrets about her past, and it may haunt her forever.

Seeing old friends often went one of two ways. You were either thrilled to see them, or you would rather have your fingernails pulled out. For Catherine, it was usually the sour kind of reunion that she found herself trapped in.

"I'm pretty sure you stole my shit."

"You had a bright future ahead of you."

"We'ren't you one of my kids's friends? We caught you sleeping in our garage once?"

Or her personal favorite, "You're looking better."

Catherine thought it wasn't hard to look "better" when people were used to seeing you hungover in the grocery store parking lot on a school night, boondocking in an old pickup truck she'd borrowed from her foster dad, along with some of his booze.

As far as she was concerned, it was her whiskey, paid for with the money the state sent as an incentive to foster. She didn't care about the legalities of it, at least until her classmates were whispering about her underage drinking habits when she stumbled through the halls the next morning, blatantly hung over.

Her clothes smelled like her foster mother's smoking habits anyway, and people had already made plenty of assumptions about her based on that. She was beyond the friendship of the clean, well-cared-for kids at her high school.

They were loved. She could tell when she looked at them, with their new clothes, shoes that didn't have holes, and freshly trimmed hair.

What was worse was the parents who saw her in the pickup line and could tell that she wasn't.

A woman once offered her some money to buy a bag for her school books, and she'd turned around and spent it on substances without an ounce of guilt. She still didn't look her in the eye in the pick-up line though.

That life, however, was galaxies away, and Catherine didn't have to think about where her next meal would come from anymore If she'd have clothes to wear, and most importantly, how long until her next drink. Her relationship with alcohol was much healthier now, and her team, her friends, were none the wiser of what she'd once been.

"I wish we didn't have to go to these things, seems like a waste of time," Kelly said, tugging at the collar of her uniform with a scowl.

Catherine simply shrugged, glancing around at the other occupants of the Rec Hall. She didn't even know whose retirement party this was, but Blue Team's presence had been requested, so she could only assume it was a high-ranking officer or a council member.

"I don't see the problem. They've got a pretty good spread," Horace interjected from beside Catherine, licking the remnants of a custard dessert from his fingers.

"Remind me why you're here?" Frederick asked with a raised brow as the Hispanic polished off a plate of fruit tarts.

"I served under the old man a while back, he was always the type to throw a big party, especially if it was in his honor," Horace explained, before elbowing Catherine in the side. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Catherine shot the soldier a glare and elbowed him right back. "Stop calling him that," she snapped. She and John hadn't exactly put a label on what they were, nor had the Master Chief declared that things between them were exclusive.

Sure, he had admitted to having feelings for her, and he'd been rather physical here and there, but nothing had been decided. She couldn't help but worry that if Horace kept up with the unwanted commentary it would become overwhelming for the Spartan, and he'd end things with her.

"John is running late, won't be here for a little while, if he comes at all," Kelly supplied, raising a brow at the redhead's hostility.

"Guess you got dolled up for nothing," Horace whispered and Catherine scoffed. She hadn't exactly put much effort into her appearance. Only curled her hair, done up her face, squeezed into a little black dress she hadn't worn since her twenties, and shoved her feet into the most damn uncomfortable pair of heels sitting in the back of her closet. Ok, so she had gotten dolled up.

It was somewhat of a relief, however, that the Chief might not even come to the party, worries that she had overdone her attire floating around in her brain. Maybe her lipstick was a little too red, or her eye makeup was too pronounced.

Catherine startled when Kelly bumped her shoulder, a worried look on her face. "Everything all right?"

She nodded, smoothing out her dress with a nervous smile. "Just peachy."

"I'm sure John will come, even if he waits until the last minute."

"Oh! no- I wasn't...that's not- nevermind. I- I need a drink." She couldn't get away from her friends fast enough. She felt like a clown as if she was attracting too much attention. She should have just stuck with her dress uniform and foregone the makeup.

She felt even more ridiculous knowing that even the Spartans themselves could see that she was just dressing up to impress the Chief. She felt like glass as if everyone around her was looking in on her most private intentions, picking out her insecurities one by one.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice the familiar figure that stepped into her path until she collided with a firm chest.

"Catherine? Is that really you?"

Her eyes darted up and she felt her blood run cold. There was no way. Her mind was playing tricks on her as a result of her anxiety. It had to be.

The man before her was tall and lanky, with sandy blonde hair on his head and a pathetic amount of muscle on his arms compared to the other men in the room.

"Toby? What...what are you doing here?" she asked, looking around for something, anything to pull her away from this reunion.

"I'm here for my old man's retirement party, what are you doing here?" Toby had a grin that spread wide and showed off his teeth, pearly whites that Catherine knew to be veneers. He'd smoked his way through his real ones back in high school, and it was a miracle his lungs were still intact.

"Your...old...oh," Catherine offered him a smile that was wilting the moment it hit her face. "Wow, time really flies, doesn't it," she mumbled behind her grimace.

"Yeah, this stuck-up military stuff isn't really for me though. You know?"

"Oh I know, Toby. Boy, do I know." She anxiously wrung her hands, eyes darting around.

"Man, I miss the good old days though. You ever think about it?" he asked, a reminiscent gleam in his eyes.

A sigh of resignation left her lips. "No Toby, I, a grown woman with a job and real responsibilities, do not fantasize about hotboxing your car in the middle of January."

Toby let out a bark of laughter. "Damn, Cat. You got old and boring."

Catherine frowned, smoothing her hands over her dress self-consciously. "I'm not that old," she grumbled.

A sudden hand on her waist made her jump, and her eyes snapped up to a familiar pair of blue ones. "Am I interrupting?"

Catherine felt her heart drop into her stomach, and a strong desire to puke bubbled up in her belly despite the lack of alcohol sitting there.

"Not at all, mate! Catherine, who's your friend?" Toby gave her a cheeky grin as he eyed John's figure curiously.

Catherine felt as if the room was a hundred degrees and her knees were going to give out so that she might hit the floor like a dead weight.

"This is..." Her partner? Her significant other? Her commanding officer who was also her crush turned situationship? "Jo-" she was interrupted by her own burp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, as her anxiety turned to full-blown indigestion. "This is John."

The air felt too thick to breathe, and if the Master Chief had noticed the tension, he didn't deem it necessary to comment on it. "Friend of yours?" he asked.

Catherine opened her mouth to reply, but Toby opened his mouth much faster. "Oh, we go waaay back. Started high school together, feels like forever ago now. Cat always knew how to have a good time. Shared a lot of our firsts," Toby supplied, bumping the Spartan's shoulder with a cheeky grin.

Between the wave of embarrassment and sudden nausea, Catherine nearly whimpered. "Toby taught me how to smoke a cigarette," she stated quickly.

John simply quirked an eyebrow, glancing between the redhead and the clearly intoxicated man before him. "I've never seen you smoke."

"Well she always preferred the reefers," Toby said so matter-of-factly that Catherine couldn't possibly suppress her grimace. She was going to kill him. He needed to shut the hell up or she was going to stuff a cream puff down his throat and watch him suffocate.

John gave little reaction, and she could only imagine the disappointment he was feeling. Surely he was realizing what a mess she really was. What a degenerate she'd been in her youth. She must have been a polished piece of shit in his eyes now.

"It's too bad you joined the military, you were a helluva good time-"

Catherine felt another nervous belch coming on and swallowed thickly. "I need some water," she interrupted, pushing past Toby, towards the bar, throwing a half-hearted goodbye over her shoulder.

The bartender had been nice enough to hand her a ginger ale, noticing the way she clutched her stomach in discomfort. She took small sips, her lip wobbling as she tried not to recount the events that had just occurred, knowing it would send her heart rate through the rough.

She took deep breaths, trying to focus on the expanding of her lungs and not the noise of the party around her. She felt his looming presence over her despite staring into her glass, her shoulders tightening and her breaths coming out shallow. She felt like she was choking.

And then suddenly he was pulling her in from the side, one hand planted firmly on her waist while the other swept from the top of her neck to the base of her spine.

"That was eventful."

Catherine simply nodded, burping softly as her stomach settled. John squeezed her hip, before moving to cup her cheek, the warmth from his palm seeping into her clenched jaw.

"You're fine," he rasped softly, and she nodded, humming in agreement despite the wheeze in her lungs. "Catherine," he urged her to look at his face, and her eyes darted there momentarily.

"I'm sorry," she blurted all of a sudden, feeling like a fool.

John didn't falter, his hand sweeping in sooting strokes down her back. "For what?" he chuckled softly. "Your friend?"

"He's not my friend," she snapped, wilting into his shoulder. "He's a prick I used to mess around with, I didn't think I'd ever see him again."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," he assured her, arms settling around her waist. "Why is this bothering you so much?" he prodded.

"I have a really good life here," her voice wavered, her hand rising to cling to one of his sturdy arms. "I really don't want to lose that because of something stupid I did in the past," she admitted.

John frowned, watching as the redhead seemed to fold in on herself. "Do you think about this often?" he asked.

Catherine swallowed thickly. "A lot. Every day." Her life was a constant battle between the joy of finally having a home, and the fear of loss and abandonment. What if Blue Team decided she was too much to handle?

John shook his head, pulling her tight against his chest. "You're a part of my team. You're mine. Even the parts of yourself that you aren't proud of." he murmured.

Catherine let out a deep sigh, allowing the tension to melt from her shoulders. “You don’t know everything I’ve done,” she warned, voice wavering.

John’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he offered her a reassuring smile. “Don’t need to.”

He’d never been under the impression that she had ever been the most well-behaved adolescent. Maybe someday he’d tell her about the time he cost Fred and Sam their dinner and ended up with a black eye.

Catherine licked her lips nervously and nodded. “Thank you, John,” she said swallowing thickly.

Her Spartan had yet to abandon her, and maybe someday she’d stop expecting him to.

Tag List:

@kittybatman04 @il0vebeingdelulu @starchaser-the-prophet

@writeforfandoms

-I think that's everyone? it's been so long since I posted for this....

Masterlist - Find the rest of the Pyro Series here!

#master chief #john 117 #master chief x oc

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lpmurphy · 2 months

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Spring in Tchakova Park

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Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: Violet's dating history is exposed to the team. John, Violet and the team arrive at the Demeter Project, and John has a realization.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Sunshine

The two nights leading up to their shared mission had been chaotic. Violet filled each moment they were home with last minute planning and tasks. John had been exposed to the full scope of Violet’s disorganization that he had only seen glimpses of as they prepared for their trip into the mountains with her family. With the distraction of the inoperable system, she had become far more scattered than he had known her to be. She had emptied storage bins full of clothing onto their bed after returning home from work on Monday night, digging through the piles in search of her field clothing that she stuffed haphazardly into her duffel bag. He trailed behind her all night, silently cleaning up the mess she left in her wake as she tore through the apartment like a windstorm. He had been grateful when she left for a third time to run to the retail center for another item she had forgotten to purchase and left him to fold and tuck away the clothing that had accumulated on the bed in a silent house.

For their final night at home, Violet decided to invite the team over for one last dinner before they departed Reach for the foreseeable future. She had grocery shopped Sunday before returning to work and grumbled all Monday evening about food waste as she cooked dinner for the two of them, barely making a dent in the full fridge. He had received a message the next morning from Violet announcing that she needed help clearing out the fridge, requesting that the team join them at the apartment. Much to his annoyance, he found that she had put them all into a group thread together that she, Riz, and Kai communicated solely on for the remainder of the day as his pad buzzed every few minutes as Kai changed the name of the group to fit her current liking.

He took Sadie to her parents’ home once they arrived home that evening and left Violet to finish her last minute packing before the team arrived. Jane sent him home with even more food that he had attempted to politely decline until she met him with that hard stare that Violet had replicated when he came back through the door with arms full of dishes. Kai, Riz, and Vannak were all perched in their usual places as he came through the door, leaning to kiss Violet’s cheek as she took the dishes from him with a sigh. Kai and Vannak were both vocal in their disapproval of Sadie’s absence throughout the evening as they all picked at the contents of the refrigerator that Violet had prepared and set out on the island. It hadn’t taken long for the four Spartans to make quick work of the odds and ends, leaving a collection of empty dishes on the island as they sat around and talked. John stood in the kitchen with Vannak, both collecting dishes and trash as the three women sat huddled on the sofa. Riz announced after dinner that she and Violet had been on kitchen duty the last time they had all gathered, both women sending their men back into the kitchen with pleased smiles. They knew better than to argue.

“I have found four local carpenters that can reinforce furniture. Would you like me to send their information over to Doctor Harris’ pad?”

John looked over to where Violet sat between Riz and Kai on the sofa, the frame groaning under each shift of their weight. His team had spent nearly every other night since their return from the mountains in their apartment and Violet’s furniture had begun to protest each time he or a member of his team lowered themselves into it. He watched Violet tilt her head back to laugh at something Kai said, the blonde lowering herself off of the sofa as it groaned again to lay on the living room floor.

“Get quotes from each. Send them over to mine once you have them.”

“Yes, Chief.”

Violet rose from the sofa as Riz and Kai turned their conversation to one another and crossed the living room to where he stood at the island. John lowered his cheek to her as she popped up onto her toes. Soft lips brushed against his jaw, her hand on his arm as he wrapped his own around her waist. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her sweater and she rested her head on his arm, “Want to swap out for a bit?”

He pressed his lips to her head in response, “I’m fine. Go sit.”

“You sure? I feel bad; we’ve only been home from vacation for a few days and we’ve done nothing but get ready for the next one. You’re spoiling me with all this vacation time, I might start expecting it.”

He rolled his eyes at the tired joke she had been using since she received the news of their now shared assignment. “It’s not a vacation, goose,” he sighed, “It’s a humanitarian mission.”

“It’s a fucking babysitting job is what it is,” Vannak grumbled as he passed by her to settle beside Riz on the sofa.

Violet smirked at his crotchety tone, John watching as he sat and threw his arm over the back of the sofa behind Riz. Violet followed him back to the living room to sit beside their friends again. “You don’t want to hang out with me? That hurts my feelings, Vannak. I thought we were friends. I’m sad now.”

“Fuck off, Harris.”

“Ouch,” she pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense, “And you kiss Riz with that mouth? Shame on you.”

Riz laughed from beside her as Vannak rolled her eyes and tucked her legs under herself, “So, tell us about this installation of yours?”

John watched Violet toss the blanket off of her lap and stand up to cross to the bookshelves as she excitedly explained the mission of the project he knew she held so dearly. She plucked a frame from the shelf below where their picture sat and turned to hold it out to Kai and Riz. He had seen the picture before; Violet standing with the Demeter team in front of one of the greenhouses, all smiling proudly with arms around one another. It was framed in her mother’s home as well. She tapped on the face of each of her companions as she spoke.

“There were nine of us in total before I left,” she explained, smiling as she looked over the faces of her team, “The research team was made up of myself, Meredith, and Devrin. Saul is our ionic physicist, Jin is a biochemist and the smartest woman I’ve ever met. Leif and Bastian are our horticulturists, and Derek and Corey are the project engineers. They’re all exceptional.”

Kai pointed beyond her to the shelves, her augmented vision honed in on another frame, “Who’s the Ranger?”

John knew exactly what picture Kai referenced. He had noticed it himself shortly after he started spending time in her apartment; Violet standing shoulder to shoulder with a dark haired Ranger, his arm around her as they laughed. It had been an innocent enough image tucked between pictures of Violet with other friends that he hadn’t thought anything of it. He picked up Vannak’s plate off the island and set it into the sink with a smirk as Violet started to blush.

“Oh that? He’s just an old friend. He was stationed at the same base.”

John couldn’t help the chuckle that barked out of him, “ Oh, ‘an old friend’? That’s what we’re calling him now?”

She sighed as she set the frame back down on the shelf, cheeks still red as she returned to her spot on the sofa, “Oh my god, stop. We’ve been over this.”

Riz and Kai looked to him quizzically as he continued to collect dishes. “They dated,” he explained, both redhead and blonde nodding in acknowledgement.

Riz looked back to Violet, “I thought Dev was a scientist?”

“He is… Greg is a Ranger, though.”

“Violet Harris, you little harlot,” Kai laughed. She raised a foot to gently kick Violet’s knee in jest from where she lay on her back on the living room floor, turning her head to look up at Violet, “Two exes at the same base?”

Violet scoffed and kicked Kai’s knee in return, her touch doing nothing to move the larger woman. Her cheeks remained red, John smirking as she sputtered and pointed across the living room to where he stood. “John fucked a POW. Why don’t we talk more about that? Why is my dating history suddenly under scrutiny?”

Vannak, Kai and Riz all let out a collective groan at the statement. “Old news, Harris,” Riz said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “We all know about that. This is far more interesting."

"Tell us, Doctor Harris," Kai pontificated. She pantomimed speaking into a microphone, " How many broken hearts did you leave in your wake? How many men are there?”

Violet rubbed her face with a groan as she pushed Kai's imaginary microphone away from her mouth and shot him a dirty look over her shoulder, “He’s making it sound far more exciting of a story than it is; we were close friends, we both were interested but never acted on it until Dev and I broke up. We dated for a few months before I left for Reach. We both knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere, we were just enjoying one another’s company. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“I remember there being more to the story than just that.” Cortana smirked.

John rolled his eyes at the single detail she had chosen to omit. Violet had shared the story with him weeks ago, claiming full honesty in one another’s lives after the night he left. She had told him of her ‘old friend’ one night, nervously sharing each detail. He found it comically hypocritical that his botanist now withheld information as she spoke of it to them. He leaned his elbows against the island, “Is that why you made a marriage pact, then?”

“John,” she sighed, four pairs of eyes fixed upon her as she dropped her head into her hands.

“A what?” Kai laughed.

Violet lifted her head and held her hands out in defeat, flashing a tight, embarrassed smile, “I had just turned thirty, he’s four years older than me, we both want kids. We agreed that if we both were still single when I turned thirty two that we would get married. Obviously, we aren’t, because look at where you are all currently sitting. I love John very much. Everyone shut up and drop it.”

John relented at the tight-smiled glare he caught from across the room, recognizing impending trouble for himself when he could see it. Vannak continued to chuckle, ignoring Riz’s warning taps on his knee, “Are you going to kick his ass too, Chief?”

“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Violet groaned, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks, “We’re going to go, we’re going to do what we need to do, and everyone is going to be cool about it. Got it?”

Kai raised her hand from where she laid on the floor, “What about Dev? Am I allowed to kick his ass?”

John looked to Violet for her reply, biting back his permission to use Johal for target practice if Kai so desired. Violet sighed and turned back to the woman beside her.

“I said-. Do not-.” You-,” she stopped and sighed again, clapping her hands together and bringing them to her chin. She pondered for a moment before nodding in approval, “That’s fine. You can kick his ass. But just him, no one else, Kai. Understood?”

Kai laughed and nodded, “You never let us have any fun, Harris.”

Riz shook her head and glanced over at the late evening hour on the chrono, announcing that it was time for the three to return to the base. The three rose in a chorus of chatter as Violet hugged both women goodbye, ignoring Vannak’s begrudging protests as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze. John and Riz exchanged a sympathetic look with one another at the realization that they were stuck playing audience to their antics until the repairs were completed. Something about the sight of them all in the apartment together, Violet hugging and laughing with his sisters and bantering with his brother, felt right to him. As if it should have always been that way. John had only known a few places he had considered home in his lifetime, yet all of them had lacked the feeling he felt now as he stood in their kitchen and watched her wish their family a goodnight in the home she gave him. It was the same feeling he had felt every time he sat under the Harris’ backyard lights, the same feeling he had felt watching them all swim in that cold lake, the same feeling he had felt as they laid around the dying fire beside the oak listening to them swap stories while Violet slept on his chest. It was a wholeness that filled him up; a warm heaviness that crawled over him like he was standing in the sun. He hoped it would never leave.

The lock rolled in the tumbler as Violet turned from the door, crossing the apartment to the bedroom door and disappeared inside. “I’m going to change and then I’ll come help you finish up,” she called behind her.

“Already done,” he called back. He left the kitchen and crossed to the balcony windows. The park laid below him, illuminated in the dusky glow of the lamp posts. His eyes fell to the pricks of light on the water, finding the yellow glow of where he stood.

“Okay, can you come help me double check my bag then? I feel like I forgot something.”

John glanced over to where she had returned to the doorway. His response caught in his throat as he realized that she had not been dressed in the pullover and sweatpants she had worn the night before to be. He raked his eyes over the garment she wore instead; all sheer black lace that did little to cover her. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, Violet smirking up at him from where she leaned against the doorframe. John forgot what he had been doing, nor could he remember what they had been discussing as his eyes rolled over her again and he matched the playful look on her face.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, this? I picked it up one of the times I went out last night. I felt bad for being such a pain this week. And, you were clear that we’re not allowed to be ‘inappropriate’ with one another while we’re away,” she smiled, John recalling the conversation regarding the profession courtesies to be expected on this joint deployment they engaged in night before, “So, I figured since it’s our last night at home, and we don’t have a dog to share a bed with, we might as well get our fill of each other.”

“Might as well.”

“But,” she sighed the word out in a playful singsong, “You did just make me look like a total skank in front of our friends.”

She clicked her tongue and shrugged, pushing herself off of the wall. She turned her back to him to reveal how deliciously little the garment covered as she began to push the bedroom door shut behind her, “So, I think I’m going to change and go to bed instead. Goodnight!”

John crossed the room in a matter of steps to press his hand against the door as she giggled from behind it. Violet met him with a smirk as he started to remove his shirt.

“On the bed, goose.”

She smiled that Violet smile, her eyes burning as she looked up at him. She stepped back against the bed and perched herself on the edge of it to watch as he began to work off his pants.

“ That’s naked enough for me to know it’s time to abide by Rule #1,” Cortana sighed, “Goodnight, Chief.”

---

John couldn’t think of a place less fitting for Violet as he looked over the base.

“Cortana?”

Cortana stood beside him in the cockpit as the ship lowered onto the tarmac with a lurch, blue light glowing on the walls around him as she briefed him.

“ Forward Operating Base Nomad,” Cortana chirped, “Located 30 klicks east of a small civilian settlement. The locals are of Cambodian descent and speak primarily Khmer. Several insurgent cells populate the area. The primary function of the base had been to engage with the local population to gather intelligence, build relationships, and conduct civil-military operations. The Ranger team assigned to the base has worked with the locals to form and train a small militia, along with conducting operations out of the base.”

“And it houses a badass scientific project,” Violet called. John turned over his shoulder to her. Violet braided her still shower-damp hair as she approached the cockpit, “Can’t forget about that, Cortana.”

She had changed into cargo pants and a thin long sleeve embellished with the project’s insignia since emerging from cryosleep. She had spent the better part of the past half hour in the showers, her and Vannak tossing back insults as she still retched and gagged on the taste of the suppressant that had filled her lungs over the past three weeks of travel. Cortana had been there when Violet woke to remind her to sit up and cough, speaking gently to Violet as she turned and vomited directly onto the floor, and continued to spit up bile and the mucus-like suppressant for several minutes after.

She was still slightly green as she stepped into the cockpit to stand beside him and press a kiss to his jaw. John noticed the length of tawny brown fabric she wore loosely wrapped around her neck. She had fished it out of a box in her closet while packing at the apartment and he didn’t ask how a civilian contractor had ended up with a tactical scarf that looked like it had made it through several missions. He hadn’t been sure he wanted the answer as he watched the determined way she had stuffed it into her rucksack.

“That as well, Doctor Harris,” Cortana agreed with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you, Cortana. Again, I’m so sorry for throwing up on you.”

“Well, being that you vomited through me, as it would be impossible for you to vomit on me, I assume all is forgiven.”

Violet laughed that musical laugh and nodded before turning green eyes up to John, “One last kiss before the helmet goes on and I’m not allowed to touch you? I brushed my teeth twice, I promise.”

John chuckled and lowered his lips to hers, Violet taking his face in her hands. Cortana excused herself in a flurry of blue light, leaving them alone. John was grateful for the moment together, her lips on his and his hand on her back. She released his face with a final peck on the cheek, smiling at him before turning out of the cockpit.

“Come on,” she called, “Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

A team was waiting on the tarmac as they arrived, the engines kicking up swirls of dust as they stepped off into the heat. Violet blocked the bright sunlight that flooded into the cargo bay with a raised hand as the ramp dropped. John had seen dozens of FOBs just like the one that laid beyond the tarmac; command center surrounded by several different semi-permanent structures, a small field hospital, and CHU housing. A perimeter wall surrounded the base, fortified with a handful of guard towers, concertina wire, and surveillance equipment to monitor and defend against potential threats. The small base sat in the foreground of jagged mountains dotted with skeletal trees. He couldn’t picture Violet in a place with such little green, much less being there for four years.

Three greenhouses sat on the far side of the base beside a low building. They were much less grandiose versions of the ones Violet occupied back at FLEETCOM, smaller and dingier with panes covered in the dust that seemed to cling to everything. Each bore the same insignia on the polycarbonate roofs that Violet wore on the pocket of her shirt; an overflowing cornucopia ringed with laurel leaves. He’d seen the same insignia on a few of the pullovers she would slip into after their evening runs; The Demeter Project.

He watched Violet descend the ramp as it touched down on the tarmac, pulling the scarf over her mouth and nose as she stepped down into the still swirling grime. John found that their welcome committee didn’t consist of just the team sent out to retrieve supplies as his heavy footsteps thudded against the ramp. He recognized the Ranger whose picture sat in their apartment at the base of the ramp, the name of his uniform confirming his identity to John. He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back as Violet continued down the ramp and pulled the scarf over her head. The thick deployment beard did nothing to hide the smile that the dark haired man tried to suppress at the sight of Violet.

“Captain Mullins,” Violet called over the quieting engines, continuing down the ramp to him.

“Welcome back, Doctor Harris. Wonderful to see you, as always,” he nodded. John stayed behind her, watching as the man’s eyes darted to him behind the lenses of his sunglasses, “Master Chief, sir.”

Violet smiled, her hand still raised as she spoke, “They still have you at this shithole?”

“Some of us call this shithole home, Doctor. You did not too long ago. Not all of us get to waltz off to a corner office.”

She laughed that musical laugh as she stepped in front of him on the tarmac, the man’s smile only growing. John’s jaw tightened as Mullins reached a hand to Violet’s face and tugged at the scarf, adjusting it so that it blocked the sun from her eyes.

“It’s hardly a corner office,” she laughed, “More of a supply closet with some leg room.”

“Just a friendly reminder that breaking his wrist would most likely result in a court-martial. Do with that information what you will, Chief.”

“Noted.”

“Sounds like leaving wasn’t as much of an adventure as you hoped for, then.”

“It was, actually,” Violet responded, her nose crinkling slightly, “In other ways. I’ll fill you in later when we get some free time.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m sure he would,” Cortana grumbled, “ On second thought, I could make revisions to reports to make any injuries seem like a terrible accident. Just give me the word, Chief. I’m ready when you are.”

John ignored Cortana’s tight tone and watched as Violet pulled Mullins in for a hug. It was a friendly gesture, the same way he had seen her force hugs upon Vannak. But Mullins leaned into her in the same way John would when Violet would snake her arms around him. Mullins laughed as he pulled Violet to him.

“It’s nice to see you, Greg,” she smiled.

“Hey, sunshine,” John stiffened even further, “Good to have you home.”

The man released Violet from the bear hug he had wrapped her into, readjusting the shifted scarf with a smile of his own. “Your team set your room back up at the Garden Center- no one’s been in there since you left. You’re welcome to stay there, but I heard rumors that Saul and Leif may have turned it into a gaming room so you may have to evict a few squatters.”

She rolled her eyes with an amused sigh, “Still acting like a couple of fifteen year olds?”

“You thought they would magically grow up in the eight months you’ve been gone?”

She scoffed, still shaking her head as Mullins turned to address John again, “I apologize, Master Chief, but we are short on housing. We are happy to see what temporary accommodations we can make for your team until we are able to find something more long-term.”

“Ooo, offer to bunk with Doctor Harris,” Cortana offered, tone dripping with mischief, “That may be enough for him to pick up on.”

John rolled his eyes, “We will be fine on the Condor, Captain.”

Mullins nodded and went on to ask about unloading the supplies. Violet jumped in to answer before John could speak, “It's only a portion of what was promised- the freighter is about three days behind us with the rest even though they left with us but, hey, that's Slipspace for you. It should be enough to get them through a few days. The three over there are mine. It’s expensive equipment, Greg. Like, lose my job if it’s broken kind-of expensive. Make sure it’s handled appropriately, please.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

Violet nodded and turned back up the ramp, calling that she should get her things before the unloading team came up to retrieve cargo and load it onto the small convoy that sat on the tarmac. John turned to follow her into the cargo bay, the neat end of her braid swaying with each step she took. He watched as she looked around, mumbling to herself as she tried to remember where she had stowed away her things in the week prior, fingers fidgeting with the fraying edge of the scarf.

John pointed to the far side of the cargo bay to where her bags sat, Violet muttering out a triumphant noise as she wove through the crates to her things. John followed behind, “Sunshine, huh?”

“Oh, please,” she groaned, slinging her rucksack over her shoulders, “Don’t start. We’ve gone over this; we dated for a few months. I lived here for four years, mind you. I had a life before I met you. You do remember that we practically live together, right?”

“I’m aware.”

Violet huffed out a laugh and shook her head, “You’re so jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are,” she laughed, pulling her eyes from his to continue to look for her bag. He reached to her face, tucking a finger up her chin and lifting her face to make her eyes meet his again. Green looked up at him from under thick lashes, lips parted slightly in surprise.

“I’m not jealous,” his voice was low as he spoke, Violet’s eyes never leaving his as he held her chin in gauntleted hand, “That would mean I want something I can’t have. I’m protecting what belongs to me.”

Violet eyes darkened slightly at his statement as she smiled up at him, taking his wrist in her hand and pressing her lips to his palm. “All yours, big guy,” she murmured, “Now can you please be nice?”

John brought his hand to her face, brushing his thumb along her cheek. Violet looked up at him from under the edge of that scarf in a way that was so different from the way she had looked at Mullins on the tarmac; in a way he knew belonged only to him in all of that warmth and loveliness. He traced his thumb along the curve of her lips and she pressed her lips to the pad of it as she watched her reflection in the visor of his helmet. All yours, she had said. He was all hers as well. Every piece and part and dent belonged to her.

“Whatever you say, goose.”

Those eyes that belonged to only him were pulled away at the sound of Mullins’ voice on the ramp. John dropped his hand as Violet reached down to pick up her duffel bag.

“Hey, Harris! You headed to the labs? I can have a couple of guys take your equipment over before we head out with supplies.”

Violet’s footsteps thudded against the ramp as she walked towards where Mullins stood beside the crates that held her equipment. She tossed her bags atop one of them. “You think I’m going to miss out on a trip into town? Yeah, right. You know me better than that, Greg. I’m coming with you. You can have them take my things there. I’ll head that way when we get back.”

Mullins nodded and called out orders to the unloading team. A small group of men greeted Violet as they came to collect her supplies and she greeted each by name with bright smiles. Mullins nodded towards the installation and John followed his eyes to the group of people that approached, all but one waving excitedly at Violet as they neared, “Geek Squad is out here to see you.”

John recognized the bounce of Meredith Powell’s hair as she sprinted at Violet, tackling her to the ground in a tight hug. Violet yelped as she was knocked to the ground, the sound immediately replaced by that musical laughter as she clung to her friend. The rest of the team lingered behind, all stepping forward to hug his botanist after Meredith helped her back to her feet. They watched him with wide eyes as he stood behind her, but the moment of wonder was lost to Violet as she pulled them all in with happy laughter. John noticed that Devrin stayed back, arms crossed tightly against his chest as he nodded to Violet.

“Doctor Harris.”

“Doctor Johal.”

Dev regarded John with a curt nod, a flicker of fear in the scientist’s eyes before he turned to head back to the installation. Mullins called out to Violet again with that nickname that made John grit his teeth from where the convoy sat. Violet turned away from her team to where Mullins stood and waved her over, “We’re ready when you are, kid!”

Violet squeezed the shoulders of the large African American man she hugged- John recognized him as Saul from her picture- and turned away with promises to catch up with all of them later. John watched as Violet crossed to where Mullins waited for her.

“You’re all with me,” John said, the team’s acknowledgement lights flashing on his HUD as they all started down the ramp towards the convoy, “Looks like we’re taking a drive.”

Violet smiled at him over her shoulder as she talked to Mullins, watching as soldiers loaded into the convoy behind them. Mullins tore his eyes away from the botanist to acknowledge Silver Team as they approached before returning his attention to Violet, “Insurgent groups have been active again since the famine. We’ve been working with the local militia to keep it at bay, but it’s not like you remember it. It’s best if you stick with an armed escort, sunshine.”

John stepped behind Violet, subtly tapping his hand against her back. He was sure he would get an earful from her about breaking his own rules when they got a moment together. She leaned into the touch, looking over to where Kai, Riz, and Vannak stepped beside him with one of those bright smiles before turning back with Mullins.

“Well, I was sent with four. I think I’ll be alright, don’t you?”

---

Violet jumped into action as soon as they arrived in the village. John watched as she interacted with the crowd of villagers that met the convoy and chatted with each soldier in that same warm way; asking of spouses and parents and children as she greeted each. Each seemed to meet Violet with that same warmth, her brightness touching all those around her even in the bleak village. John watched as she reached into the crates, passing out rations and supplies to villagers that she greeted in their native tongue, chatting with each in Khmer as they approached her. Pride settled into him as he watched her goodness translate into the sense of gentle authority that had come over her since they arrived.

John watched as a young girl ran up to Violet and threw her arms around her middle. Violet wrapped her arms around the child without looking down to identify her first, but John watched her face light up in happy recognition as she did. Violet took the girl’s face in her hands as she spoke excitedly to the girl in the tonal language. John leaned over to where Riz stood beside him watching the distribution, Violet still smiling as she brushed the girl’s hair out of her face.

“What’s she saying?”

Riz listened for a moment as Violet spoke to the girl, “She’s telling her how tall and beautiful she’s gotten.”

Cortana continued to translate for him long after Riz did. She buzzed between his ears as she relayed each side of the villagers’ conversations with Violet. She spoke to each one with nothing but softness; her voice kind and gentle. Each villager regarded her as one would welcome home an old friend, wide smiles passed between each party. Violet reached out and grasped the hand of a woman who welcomed her in greeting, asking the woman how her mother had been and if her sister had delivered her baby. She told another little boy how much he looked like his older brother as she hugged him tightly. She asked another man about his wife, and when he replied that she was with child, Violet looked around to make sure no one had been watching before she slipped the man a few extra rations with that kind smile. It went on like that for some time. John watched as the goodness that she radiated like sunbeams touched everyone she surrounded in her. Sunshine, Mullins had called her. The captain hadn’t been too far off.

He looked from Violet to where the captain stood with members of his team, turned at his fellow Ranger’s side so that he could both speak to the man and still assess the crowd. Mullins watched beyond where villagers gathered at the convoy to where Violet stood, the captain watching her with the same soft smile that was hidden behind his helmet. John had never been the most adept with social queues, but he recognized the man’s look immediately; John had looked at Violet that same way since that evening he met her in the park. He had seen other men look at her that way before; MPs she’d become friendly with at the gates back home, horticulturalists on her team, damn near every man she had walked past on that base just today. He found with each of their stares that the fear he had once felt did not come. It did not creep in like a frost and chill him until he could no longer move. He did not fear and lament the man who would come after him and someday deserve Violet Harris. He simply knew there would never be another man. He was the only one she looked back at the same way.

Violet looked up at the sound of a dog’s bark. John found the pitch of it familiar. Her eyes fell on the source; a small pack of dogs that lay panting in the shade of a building. He had noticed the population of strays that roamed the village when they arrived. A smile crept across her face at the sight and she stepped to the edge of the vehicle’s cargo bed to lower herself to the ground. Mullins was on her in an instant, offering his hand for balance with another grin. Violet took his hand with an appreciative smile and hopped down with a puff of dirt, returning her focus to the dogs. She slowly approached the dogs, their eyes watching and ears twitching as she approached them with a series of soft whistles followed by calm whispers.

The dog in the center sat up, a black and white collie with a graying snout, and whined happily as Violet padded near them. John watched the dog’s tail start to sway as Violet approached, the excited wiggle to how it moved reminding him of the way Sadie greeted him at the door every evening. Violet crouched down beside it, speaking softly to the pup as she started to scratch its ears. John noticed a Shepard sitting beside the collie in the shade, his bright white fur dull and dirty. He watched Violet cautiously as she pet the collie, protective of the dog that licked at the botanist’s hands. It reminded him of the dog he saw in his memories.

“Captain!” Kai called.

Mullins looked up, crossing from where he stood supervising the distribution as Kai waved him over. She gestured to where Violet sat with the grouping of dogs, giggling as the collie licked her face. “What’s with the wildlife?”

“It’s a part of the local charm. They stopped keeping them as pets years ago because they couldn’t feed them. They formed packs and started finding their own food sources. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Doctor Harris’ dog, but she adopted Sadie from the streets about two years ago. See that one she’s petting? That’s Sadie’s momma. Doctor Harris always makes sure to say hello. No animals on base, but Violet hid her for about three months before command found out. She found some loophole about installation rules over base rules, so Sadie became somewhat of a mascot for the project. She loves that dog something fierce. I’m surprised she was willing to leave her behind. I wonder who she trusted enough with her baby while she’s here.”

“Yeah, Chief,” John could hear the grin masked by Kai’s helmet in her voice as she looked over to him, “Who is watching your dog while you and Doctor Harris are here?”

Mullins straightened up and pulled his eyes from Violet to look up at the Master Chief, John watching realization wash over his face at Kai’s question. Violet looked up from the old dog to glance over at John, offering him one of those bright Violet smiles. He couldn’t blame the captain for staring; John could understand every look she got. But those green eyes never left him, even as Mullins’ eyes returned to her, a little bit more forlorn this time.

John watched as Violet stroked the dog’s back again, giving her rear a pat before standing up. She dusted off her hands on her pants, eyes finding him again from where she stood in the shade. Violet brought her hand up again to block the dropping sun from her eyes as she gave him a small wave, the warmth in her eyes rivaling the blistering air around him and John found himself caught in the gaze that belonged to only him.

#halo fanfic #halo tv show #master chief #master chief/oc #romance #romcom in space #au #halo fanfiction #not canon compliant #silver timeline #halo series #halo #john 117/oc #john 117 #spring in tchakova park

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