To the End
Written for yappichick. She was doing a fic meme that I honestly don’t have time for, but I didn’t feel right just making a request without giving her the opportunity for a reciprocal fic, either. So, we agreed on a trade. :D
It was supposed to be a short scene with a kiss, but me, write something less than 1000 words? HA! I’m sorry. (Not really.)
Title: To the End
Fandom: Halo
Word Count: 1350 Words
Rating & Genre: PG | Angst
Summary: For every beginning, there is an inevitable end…
AN: Uhm… Don’t hate me? The Halo universe is inherently sad!
To the End
As the bulkhead groaned to a close, a last few bolts and blasts squeezing through, Cortana sighed in relief. “We made it.”
Why had she sighed? AIs had no use for oxygen, no need to breathe, and therefore no need to feel short of breath or exhale. She couldn’t even feel, truth be told - not in the physical sense, at least. Emotions though, she had those. The emotion she felt at the immediate moment - a jittery mixture of anxiety and tension - in humans caused the release of adrenaline and noradrenalin in the body, allowing them to enter a hyperactive state to confront threats. Increased heart rate, dilated pupils, augmented muscle response, accelerated respiration… Cortana felt as though she was coming off an adrenaline high, but she had no adrenal glands, no veins through which the hormones were flowing. In fact, running a cursory diagnostic, she was functioning at exactly the same level as she had been moments before when the Chief was hurdling through the last stretch of the Forerunner structure, salvos and rounds missing him by pure and simple luck. The distress that overtook her down to her core when he was in these situations was almost physical. Almost. Had there been any question, or was she only tormenting herself? She’d sighed as an expression, originated, taught, and expected by humans; nothing more. She ached for something more, something concrete, something real.
The sound of a muffled explosion from behind the four-meter thick door drew Cortana from her extended musing.
“Not yet, we haven’t,” the Chief rejoined, loading the last clip into his MA5B assault rifle. Wait. For how long had she been pondering?
Less than two seconds based off her internal clock. - And not long enough for the Chief to catch on, she noted. - She’d crunched petabytes of data faster than that, so why did time seemingly fluctuate, now? Milliseconds had become squirrely things, sometimes fleeting rapidly through her metaphysical fingers, and others, stretching, stretching, stretching. There was no rhyme or reason to it, from what Cortana could tell, except that the swings in perception were always in opposition to what she wanted, but that perhaps was only indicative of her inability to be pleased with anything these days.
“Cortana.” This time, he had noticed. It wasn’t the first time. “How do I get to the command tower from here?”
She flinched at the question, dread taking the place of her simulated nervousness. Now or never, she thought to herself. Simultaneously, Cortana dropped two NAV points, one on the UNSC Infinity, a little over 20 kilometers south of the Chief’s position, and the other on the Pelican not fifty feet away from him. She then materialized onto the small cylinder relay just outside the structure. When he turned to face her, her plan undoubtedly clear to him, she bit her lip. “You don’t.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving you again.”
When they’d been surrounded in a surprise attack, he’d been forced to leave her chip in the central command tower of the structure four hours prior; there was so much information within the construct, but for her own sanity, for John, she’d focused on getting him through. That he would be able to fight his way back to her had been their hope, but he’d barely survived getting out. Now, looking through the many monitoring stations within the building, she knew it was impossible, even for him. Only days left. What a wasted effort it would be, anyway...
“And you’re not facing certain death to come get me.” Only two urges ranked higher than her admitted fear of dying: her sense of duty and how much she cared about John.
“Nothing’s certain,” he said walking back towards her, then towering over the small console. His weapon was casually tipped back, resting on his shoulder in a characteristic stance exuding confidence. When another smothered boom sounded from the bulkhead, he didn’t flinch. With one clip left, a single frag grenade at his side, and the last few rounds in his M6G pistol, she knew he could wreak some serious havoc. But he wasn’t invincible.
Drawing on her frustrations over his stubbornness in order to overcome her fears, she pulled up image after image from inside the structure, passageways and gaping rooms swarming with hundreds of enemies and impossible odds. He took looked them over in silence.
“Some things are, Chief.”
He tilted his head towards her, obviously understanding her alternate reference.
Facing death alone was the last thing she wanted to do, but it was also the last thing she could do, for him. She smiled, far more confident than she felt. “I can’t hold them off forever, but I can buy you enough time to escape. You have to get back to the ship before it leaves.”
The assault rifle fell from his shoulder, dropping into a relaxed position with his other hand gripping the underside. “Find me a way inside, or I’ll go back the way I came.”
Like h-ll, you will. Cortana crossed her arms defiantly. “I don’t think so. I’ve sealed all the exits; the only direction you’re headed is towards the Infinity.”
“You said it yourself: you can’t hold them forever.” He began surveying the area for tactical advantages.
Fear shot through her. He would do it, too. He would stay, he may even make it to her, but she couldn’t take that risk. Not him. “Chief, no! They’ll overrun you in a matter of seconds!”
“Are you suggesting a better way?”
An uncontrollable rush of excess emotions flooded her matrices; on the console, her eyes involuntarily flashed white. “There is no better way! An entire army is barely contained behind these walls, and I won’t watch you die!”
“Sounds like familiar odds to me,” he said.
The anger receded as quickly as it had arrived. Looking up into that familiar golden visor, Cortana felt emotionally drained. “Please, John,” she said stepping forward and vainly reaching out to him. “I chose you. At least let me see you through… to the end.”
He regarded her silently, the only sounds being the incessant pounding on the sealed exits. He didn’t know how quickly she was swapping encryptions and algorithms to keep them locked out of the system, blocking them at every turn; sooner or later, they would get through, and he had to be gone before then. At last, he dropped to one knee, bringing his face level with her.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked her softly.
She smiled wistfully, afraid to hope. “As sure as a girl can be about dying alone on a foreign planet surrounded by hostile aliens who want to pick apart her matrices.” He started to stand, but she reached out to touch his helmet, “John,” and he froze. “I’m positive. This is what I want.”
He said nothing, so she stepped to the edge of the relay, trying to get as close as possible. As if it makes a difference. “Please,” she pleaded, drawing her hand down. “I never ask you for anything,” she added in a lame pass at teasing.
For the longest time, he didn’t say anything, didn’t budge. He wasn’t even concerned about the escalating cadence coming from all angles.
“Okay,” he said at last, and Cortana sighed, relief coursing through her again. This was better, she’d convinced herself. Still sane, not completely lost to rampancy, she could tell him goodbye. Too soon…
Cortana placed a lingering kiss at the edge of his visor. It was hollow. She felt nothing. But neither did John, yet he remained in place.
It wasn’t quite accurate either, that she felt nothing. She sensed nothing physically, but emotionally, there was so much… So very much. It was more than she could bear. So, this is why humans cry.
“Remember me,” she said softly, drawing back.
“I’ll come back for you,” he said and stood, turning for the Pelican.
Please…
No. “There won’t be anything of me left, John.”
At the entrance of the ungainly vehicle, he turned to her one last time. “I’ll come back,” he promised. “Count on it.”
AN: You know there’s an implied happy ending to this! :P Can’t say I’m entirely happy with it, but it’s close enough for now.
It was supposed to be a short scene with a kiss, but me, write something less than 1000 words? HA! I’m sorry. (Not really.)
Title: To the End
Fandom: Halo
Word Count: 1350 Words
Rating & Genre: PG | Angst
Summary: For every beginning, there is an inevitable end…
AN: Uhm… Don’t hate me? The Halo universe is inherently sad!
To the End
As the bulkhead groaned to a close, a last few bolts and blasts squeezing through, Cortana sighed in relief. “We made it.”
Why had she sighed? AIs had no use for oxygen, no need to breathe, and therefore no need to feel short of breath or exhale. She couldn’t even feel, truth be told - not in the physical sense, at least. Emotions though, she had those. The emotion she felt at the immediate moment - a jittery mixture of anxiety and tension - in humans caused the release of adrenaline and noradrenalin in the body, allowing them to enter a hyperactive state to confront threats. Increased heart rate, dilated pupils, augmented muscle response, accelerated respiration… Cortana felt as though she was coming off an adrenaline high, but she had no adrenal glands, no veins through which the hormones were flowing. In fact, running a cursory diagnostic, she was functioning at exactly the same level as she had been moments before when the Chief was hurdling through the last stretch of the Forerunner structure, salvos and rounds missing him by pure and simple luck. The distress that overtook her down to her core when he was in these situations was almost physical. Almost. Had there been any question, or was she only tormenting herself? She’d sighed as an expression, originated, taught, and expected by humans; nothing more. She ached for something more, something concrete, something real.
The sound of a muffled explosion from behind the four-meter thick door drew Cortana from her extended musing.
“Not yet, we haven’t,” the Chief rejoined, loading the last clip into his MA5B assault rifle. Wait. For how long had she been pondering?
Less than two seconds based off her internal clock. - And not long enough for the Chief to catch on, she noted. - She’d crunched petabytes of data faster than that, so why did time seemingly fluctuate, now? Milliseconds had become squirrely things, sometimes fleeting rapidly through her metaphysical fingers, and others, stretching, stretching, stretching. There was no rhyme or reason to it, from what Cortana could tell, except that the swings in perception were always in opposition to what she wanted, but that perhaps was only indicative of her inability to be pleased with anything these days.
“Cortana.” This time, he had noticed. It wasn’t the first time. “How do I get to the command tower from here?”
She flinched at the question, dread taking the place of her simulated nervousness. Now or never, she thought to herself. Simultaneously, Cortana dropped two NAV points, one on the UNSC Infinity, a little over 20 kilometers south of the Chief’s position, and the other on the Pelican not fifty feet away from him. She then materialized onto the small cylinder relay just outside the structure. When he turned to face her, her plan undoubtedly clear to him, she bit her lip. “You don’t.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving you again.”
When they’d been surrounded in a surprise attack, he’d been forced to leave her chip in the central command tower of the structure four hours prior; there was so much information within the construct, but for her own sanity, for John, she’d focused on getting him through. That he would be able to fight his way back to her had been their hope, but he’d barely survived getting out. Now, looking through the many monitoring stations within the building, she knew it was impossible, even for him. Only days left. What a wasted effort it would be, anyway...
“And you’re not facing certain death to come get me.” Only two urges ranked higher than her admitted fear of dying: her sense of duty and how much she cared about John.
“Nothing’s certain,” he said walking back towards her, then towering over the small console. His weapon was casually tipped back, resting on his shoulder in a characteristic stance exuding confidence. When another smothered boom sounded from the bulkhead, he didn’t flinch. With one clip left, a single frag grenade at his side, and the last few rounds in his M6G pistol, she knew he could wreak some serious havoc. But he wasn’t invincible.
Drawing on her frustrations over his stubbornness in order to overcome her fears, she pulled up image after image from inside the structure, passageways and gaping rooms swarming with hundreds of enemies and impossible odds. He took looked them over in silence.
“Some things are, Chief.”
He tilted his head towards her, obviously understanding her alternate reference.
Facing death alone was the last thing she wanted to do, but it was also the last thing she could do, for him. She smiled, far more confident than she felt. “I can’t hold them off forever, but I can buy you enough time to escape. You have to get back to the ship before it leaves.”
The assault rifle fell from his shoulder, dropping into a relaxed position with his other hand gripping the underside. “Find me a way inside, or I’ll go back the way I came.”
Like h-ll, you will. Cortana crossed her arms defiantly. “I don’t think so. I’ve sealed all the exits; the only direction you’re headed is towards the Infinity.”
“You said it yourself: you can’t hold them forever.” He began surveying the area for tactical advantages.
Fear shot through her. He would do it, too. He would stay, he may even make it to her, but she couldn’t take that risk. Not him. “Chief, no! They’ll overrun you in a matter of seconds!”
“Are you suggesting a better way?”
An uncontrollable rush of excess emotions flooded her matrices; on the console, her eyes involuntarily flashed white. “There is no better way! An entire army is barely contained behind these walls, and I won’t watch you die!”
“Sounds like familiar odds to me,” he said.
The anger receded as quickly as it had arrived. Looking up into that familiar golden visor, Cortana felt emotionally drained. “Please, John,” she said stepping forward and vainly reaching out to him. “I chose you. At least let me see you through… to the end.”
He regarded her silently, the only sounds being the incessant pounding on the sealed exits. He didn’t know how quickly she was swapping encryptions and algorithms to keep them locked out of the system, blocking them at every turn; sooner or later, they would get through, and he had to be gone before then. At last, he dropped to one knee, bringing his face level with her.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked her softly.
She smiled wistfully, afraid to hope. “As sure as a girl can be about dying alone on a foreign planet surrounded by hostile aliens who want to pick apart her matrices.” He started to stand, but she reached out to touch his helmet, “John,” and he froze. “I’m positive. This is what I want.”
He said nothing, so she stepped to the edge of the relay, trying to get as close as possible. As if it makes a difference. “Please,” she pleaded, drawing her hand down. “I never ask you for anything,” she added in a lame pass at teasing.
For the longest time, he didn’t say anything, didn’t budge. He wasn’t even concerned about the escalating cadence coming from all angles.
“Okay,” he said at last, and Cortana sighed, relief coursing through her again. This was better, she’d convinced herself. Still sane, not completely lost to rampancy, she could tell him goodbye. Too soon…
Cortana placed a lingering kiss at the edge of his visor. It was hollow. She felt nothing. But neither did John, yet he remained in place.
It wasn’t quite accurate either, that she felt nothing. She sensed nothing physically, but emotionally, there was so much… So very much. It was more than she could bear. So, this is why humans cry.
“Remember me,” she said softly, drawing back.
“I’ll come back for you,” he said and stood, turning for the Pelican.
Please…
No. “There won’t be anything of me left, John.”
At the entrance of the ungainly vehicle, he turned to her one last time. “I’ll come back,” he promised. “Count on it.”
AN: You know there’s an implied happy ending to this! :P Can’t say I’m entirely happy with it, but it’s close enough for now.