Welcome to my newest Halo fic where I take a crack-ish premise and treat it seriously! Reader is from the 21st century and ends up in Halo timeline. Same world, different times.
Warnings: Major confusion, violence, mention of blood, canon typical violence, swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
Night had already fallen by the time you got out of work. You just sighed, having expected that. Long days exhausted you, but they were unavoidable sometimes. It took moments to grab your keys and start towards your car, the lot two-thirds empty around you.
You just wanted to go home and find something to eat.
A sort of shimmer distracted you. You paused, only two or three steps from your car, eyes narrowing a little as you tried again to see the shimmer.
There. Beyond your car, next to the building. Almost like rain in streetlights, but there was no rain.
Very weird. What could cause a visual effect like that?
You took a couple steps closer to the shimmer, trying to figure out what it was. Maybe someone had dropped something?
The shimmer seemed a little stronger the closer you got, the space in the middle dark. Too dark. Darker than the surrounding shadows. Very weird.
One more step and your foot came down on something else. Metal. You frowned, looking down. There was no metal in the parking lot.
You looked back up and froze. You were no longer in the parking lot. Metal like a hallway rose well over your head, footsteps echoing a little with the couple small steps you took.
“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself, staring around. None of this made sense. None of this looked even remotely familiar, either. Turning full circle showed that it wasn't just ahead of you, either. The weird metallic hallway stretched both directions, a few closed doors set into the walls that you could see.
You had no idea where you were, or how you'd gotten there, or anything. None of this made sense. At all.
Sharp pain in your head brought you to your knees with a low cry. You pressed one hand hard to your temple to try to abate the pain, eyes scrunching closed even as pain hammered against the inside of your skull.
Almost as soon as it started, it stopped. You blinked rapidly, recalibrating from the strange, sudden pain. But it was simply gone, no ache left in its wake.
Just another strange thing on top of a stranger thing.
You straightened slowly, somehow even more confused than before.
And froze, looking straight at a weapon of sorts.
Guttural grunting made you look further up. And further. Until you were looking at… something. Something not human. You would have guessed a Halloween costume, except the mouth moved in ways no costume could, four little mouth-extension-bits moving separately.
You must have made a noise, because the thing growled at you. One big three-fingered hand grabbed your upper arm, half-dragging you along behind it, your mind completely blank with terror.
You stumbled multiple times on the march, but the alien thing never even slowed. Just dragged you along, grip so tight you felt your arm would break.
It dropped you to the floor, and you hit with a soft clang of metal, palms catching most of your weight. You winced, grimacing, pained but unwilling to make a noise of protest.
More of the grunting and growling went on over your head, and you cautiously lifted your gaze. More of the alien-things stood around you, all of them holding weapons. A short one made a higher-pitched noise, and then squealed as one of the bigger ones aimed a loose kick at it.
You swallowed hard, light headed and shaky. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.
Further cautious looking showed a much bigger room, all metal, with lots of… things. Not just aliens, although there were lots of those too. There was equipment around, things on the walls, all kinds of stuff That you had no frame of reference for.
Honestly, the whole thing reminded you of a sci fi show. Aliens? Big metal rooms? Sounded like space.
You nearly giggled at the absolute absurdity, biting your lip hard to keep it in. The sudden pain helped to sober you, bringing things back into focus.
Okay. Didn't matter where you were, not really. If this was real (and the pain made you think it was), then all you needed to know was you were in the middle of a very hostile place. With no idea what these aliens wanted. No way to communicate.
You needed to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. Keep out of the way. Keep out of sight if possible.
The big one that had dragged you in no longer seemed to be paying attention to you, so you very carefully scooted back away from them until your back hit the nearest wall. You breathed a little easier at that, at least.
This made no sense. But you didn't know how to get back home. And you wanted to stay alive.
Hours crawled by. The aliens did whatever they were doing, talking to one another in that indecipherable language. The little ones scurried around, chittering and mostly trying to stay out of the way. A few kind of avian-looking ones prowled around the perimeter, occasionally snapping at the little ones.
You sat in your spot, back pressed to the wall, ignoring your physical needs as much as you could. You did not want to draw their attention, not for anything. Not when your throat dried out from thirst. Not when your bladder screamed at you. Not when your stomach wouldn't stop growling.
You sat, as quietly as possible, and watched.
An alarm blared from somewhere else on the ship, making you jump. The big guys started snapping orders (you guessed, based on tone and the way the little ones hopped to), weapons grabbed and hefted.
One of the big ones strode over to you, grabbing you by the front of your shirt and lifting. Your shoes left the ground entirely and you swallowed hard, grabbing onto the alien’s wrist, hoping it wouldn't drop you. It snarled something at you, a question maybe. But you just stared, wide eyed, totally uncomprehending. Its mandibles curled and it growled in your face, pulling you even closer. You couldn't help the terrified whimper that escaped you, eyes wide as the alien took up most of your vision.
It roared something and threw you away. You hit the floor hard and rolled a few times, yipping at a particularly hard hit to your elbow. You ached all over, groaning softly as you pushed up onto your hands and knees.
You stopped, pain lancing through your head again. Which wouldn't have been terrible on its own.
But this time, it came with a voice.
“John.” The echo of a woman's voice, soft and distant, but there. You could have sworn you knew her, knew her voice, but no name came to mind.
You blinked, faint blue light at the corners of your eyes making you look side to side. But you were alone, the aliens having moved away from you, clearly preparing for something else.
“Chief. The Domain is open. Meridian is next. John! The Reclamation is about to begin!”
You shook your head hard, sudden vertigo nearly sending you sprawling back down to your face. You managed to stay upright, if only barely.
It took a minute longer to push up to sit properly, all of you aching now. You hissed softly as blood dripped into your eye, your fingers finding a small cut on your temple. Probably from being thrown and rolling across the floor. You made a soft noise of pain when your fingers prodded clumsily at the cut.
Ouch. This was really not going well for you.
Gunshots made you flinch and hunker over, looking around for some kind of cover. This room had plenty of places to hide, and you scuttled behind a crate.
Well. You tried to scuttle. Really it was more like an awkward hobble-crawl, with every muscle protesting along the way.
The gunfire got closer. As did shouting, screaming, yelps of pain, all in that alien language. Your heart raced. Were these more aliens? Different aliens? Were you caught in the middle of an alien war?
You didn't have time to spiral further, or try to look for a weapon. You didn't have time for much of anything, really. Silence fell, heavy and ominous, giving you just enough time to swallow hard.
A person stepped into view, green armor gleaming just a little in the light. A gun was trained at you, held steady in big, armor-encased hands.
And a golden visor fixed right at you.
You didn't know this person. Had never seen him before in your life. And yet as soon as you saw that visor, a sense of safety settled over you, like a warm blanket. A single name popped into your head.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: “15 Minutes” (12/15)
Author: @ageless-aislynn
Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series
Summary: Dr. Keyes has something to tell you. Silver Team returns.
Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying)
Rating: T (PG13)
Length: 3,243 (this chapter, 30,730 total so far)
Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉
A/N: Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐
If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖
You saluted then stepped back, indicating your unexpected visitor should enter.
Dr. Miranda Keyes stepped inside the room, her eyes seeming to take in everything all at once. "Colorful," she finally pronounced. "I honestly wouldn't have expected it from Master Chief. Did you do the decorating?"
"A lot of it came from Kai," you said, "though John did add the stars for me."
After you admitted that, you wondered if you shouldn't have told her that part. But John didn't seem to care who knew and you felt a little like you needed to defend him against… What? Dr. Keyes thinking he was boring?
"I was going to call you to my office but Dr. Savannah strongly advised against having you walk that far." The slight raise to one eyebrow provided all the hint you needed as to how strongly that advice had been given.
"I'm supposed to start more active PT today," you said, "and hopefully light duty very soon."
"Good. Now, I did request you be given the clearance that Master Chief wanted for you. Most of it was denied."
You nodded, having expected that. I hope John isn't too upset. He seems to really want to be able to talk about something.
"However," she went on, "I was able to get it for one thing: Cortana."
There was a brief, crystal-sharp moment where you thought she was going to tell you that Cortana was his wife. Maybe that the UNSC had them in some sort of Spartan arranged marriage. You hadn't realized how much fiction you'd consumed in your life until a bunch of tragic rom-com options fanned through your mind like a demented deck of cards.
"Yes, ma'am?" you said and went so hard into attention it felt like your spine would never bend again, bracing for whatever news Dr. Keyes was about to bludgeon you with.
"Cortana is an A.I. linked to Master Chief."
It was so far removed from what you'd been expecting, you just blinked. "I wasn't aware tech was that advanced yet, ma'am."
Dr. Keyes looked slightly bitter. "It shouldn't be," she said, her tone tight. "My… Dr. Halsey took some unethical shortcuts to create Cortana."
"And John is her trainer or handler?"
The bitter look deepened. "When I say that she's linked to him, I mean physically. Cortana is implanted directly into Master Chief's brain."
Your own mind boggled with a million implications, most of them bad, many of them fatal. "Is that safe, ma'am? An A.I. directly implanted into a human brain—"
"A Spartan brain," she corrected and anger briefly flashed in her eyes. "If he were an unaugmented human, I highly doubt he would've even survived the procedure."
You thought of all of his scars, all of the places where he'd been taken apart then stitched back together into the shape that someone else had decided for him.
Dr. Keyes seemed on the verge of saying something else, then caught herself, and adopted her profession mien once more. "You can ask Master Chief or Cortana herself any other questions."
"Thank you, ma'am," you said, saluting as you recognized the dismissal.
She inclined her head, gave the room a final, mildly curious once over, then left.
You forced your spine to unlock and sat on the couch. All of the times when he'd seemed to be hearing something in his ear…? Did the A.I. in his head somehow have access to his auditory cortex? Could she hear his thoughts? Know how he felt?
Then there's the fact that I thought I was talking to a person all this time. Was I? Is an A.I. linked into an organic brain a person?
Trying to process all of that made you feel slightly woozy.
On impulse, you said aloud, "Cortana?"
"I'm here," she said immediately and you could almost swear she sounded relieved that you called for her.
Had she been worried you wouldn't want to talk to her again? Wait, did an A.I. worry? You doubted that your padd had ever worried on days when you didn't log in at the usual time. But Cortana was clearly so much more than a simple electronic device. You had, of course, dealt with various forms of A.I. before but none had ever seemed so real.
"Dr. Keyes said you're physically with John. So does that mean he's here on Reach?"
"No, Silver Team is on deployment. I left behind a curated segment of my code that can converse with you and answer many of your questions."
"So, I'm speaking with a part of Cortana?"
"Indeed. When we return, my main program will reassimilate our conversation so that nothing will be lost and it will be just as if that's who you'd been speaking to all along. If necessary, though, I have the ability to access long-range communications, should you need to contact Master Chief before Silver Team returns."
"He left a way for me to contact him? That's—" really against regulations and also definitely the sweetest thing anybody's ever done for me before "—unusual, isn't it?"
"Your safety is important to him. He wanted a way to know if you were in danger." She paused then said, "Oh, I see that Physical Therapy has added a session for you. I'll let you prepare. Could… could we perhaps talk more later?"
The cautiously hopeful tone gave you pause once more.
"I'd like that," you said sincerely and could've sworn that her soft sign-off chime sounded happier than usual.
The next few days went by quickly. Dr. Savannah approved your increased PT sessions as well as allowing you to begin taking your meals in the Mess once more. You had to admit, it took a little adjusting to go back to the standard meals instead of the custom Spartan ones John had been having sent to his room, but it felt good to become more ambulatory.
It was going to take a lot more adjusting when you had to return to your cot in the marine barracks after having enjoyed the much more spacious bed and room amenities. And, of course, all of that paled compared to missing John himself.
Trying to picture him crowding onto the cot with you while the other marines stared in utter envy did give you a bit of a laugh. Of course you'd known this couldn't last but you were determined to enjoy it as long as possible. If you were lucky, Silver Team would get back before that order came down and you'd get to spend at least one more precious night with John.
But Silver Team still hadn't returned when you were officially cleared for light duty. You'd amassed several new casual outfits, probably more than you could store in your footlocker, but you decided to try. As you laid them out on the bed and began rolling them as compactly as possible, you heard a soft chime.
Looking up, you spotted the holo on the wall politely flickering. "Cortana?"
"I don't mean to speak out of line," she said immediately, like she'd been barely able to wait for you to acknowledge her, "but why are you packing?"
Your eyebrows lifted. "I'm returning to duty in the morning," you said, surprised that she wasn't aware of that already. "So I thought I might as well get back to the barracks tonight and head out from there."
"But you… One moment, please."
She was silent for so long that you finished rolling up your clothing, found a small rucksack in the closet and filled it. Looking around the room that had been your home while you healed, you smiled at the tapestry with the field of sunflowers on the wall, the rainbow jewel tones in the pillows on the couch and the duvet on the bed, all gifted from Kai. Overhead, the stars that John had put up for you twinkled in the light.
Impulsively, you grabbed your padd and snapped a few pictures. Whenever things got tough in the future, you wanted to still be able to see those stars your Spartan had hung up for you.
Your padd chimed and you looked down, staring as a new order scrolled out. You read it twice to make sure you weren't willing the words into being by wishful thinking: you had been permanently assigned to Room 117.
"Cortana?"
"Yes?"
"What sort of strings did John have to pull for this? I mean, I don't even know how he was able to get this done, honestly."
"It benefits the UNSC to keep the Master Chief happy," she said succinctly. "Also, are you aware that you have permission to eat in the Spartan Mess Hall?"
"Really? No, I was not aware of that." You considered that briefly: imagining moving through the Spartans and hauling yourself up into one of the taller chairs, while your feet swung under the table like you were a kid who had wandered into the grown-ups' lounge. "I think I'll stick with the Marine's Mess. Yeah, the Spartan food is better but it doesn't mean as much without John here, you know?"
She paused, calculating her response. "I'll take your word for it," she finally said. "Though John may require a bit more convincing."
You were still thinking about all of that the next day as you headed to start your shift. How had you gotten so lucky? But when you clocked in and went to your erstwhile office-closet and opened the door, you momentarily revised your estimation about your luck.
Did the bomb go off in here as well as the Pit? you thought, looking up at the piles of machine parts and requisition papers stacked on all sides of your desk. But when you went around to take a seat, an olive green gift bag hidden by the rest of the flotsam and jetsam was revealed.
You instantly thought John? but when you flipped the tag open, you read: "Even the Hero of the Pit needs a friend to keep her company while a certain Spartan is away" and it was signed from the mechanic's team, all in Maria's distinctive handwriting.
Then you looked down into the bag and grinned.
Most of your morning revolved around organizing things into piles of urgent, not as urgent and went past urgent 3 days ago. Despite that, you found yourself glad that your day was over at your lunch break. You stopped at the Mess for a quick bite to eat, hoping you'd see Maria or Jamie but neither of your friends were apparently on the same schedule as you.
You headed back to Room 117, the gift bag tucked under your arm, and you sighed slightly as you went through the door.
"Are you all right?" Cortana instantly asked.
"Oh, hey," you said. "Yeah, just got to get back in the swing of working."
She quietly watched you put the bag on the table, then inquired, "Did you receive a gift?"
"I did. You didn't already know? I thought…"
"It's very important to John that you don't feel spied on. I only passively monitor for indications of distress or for you to speak to me."
She sounded so serious that you were worried you'd offended her by your flippant belief she constantly watched your every move. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that to sound like an accusation."
"Of course, no apology necessary."
To hopefully lighten the mood, you pulled your gift out of the bag.
"Is that…?"
"It is," you confirmed.
After a moment's pause, she proclaimed, "I can't wait for Silver Team to get back."
"Me, too," you agreed.
A few more days passed and you settled into the routine of wrangling the mess in your little office into something more manageable. Hopefully it wouldn't be long before you were cleared to work the Brokkr stations. Maybe the very day that Silver Team returned and you could be the one to armor-down John and then he would swoop you up in his arms and then–
Well, you'd probably be dishonorably discharged if you did a fraction of the things that flittered through your mind but it definitely made for an interesting daydream.
After one particularly strenuous PT session, you headed back to John's room, sweaty and tired but happy with your progress. Your strength was definitely returning.
The holo chimed as you entered and Cortana didn't even wait for your acknowledgement to say, "Silver Team is back on Reach."
You startled as if receiving a mild shock. "How recently back on Reach? Have they already been through the Brokkr?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "They're in debrief."
Which would probably take hours but… You looked down at the sodden mess of your clothes.
"I need a shower," you said, hurrying towards the bathroom. Only after the fact, you wondered if Cortana thought that was an odd response.
You were in such a rush that you'd already shed your clothes and had almost jumped under the spray when you realized you'd forgotten a towel. The setup of the bathroom meant you had to cross the open doorway to the rest of the room to reach the shelves and you couldn't help but side-eye the main door as if expecting an entire Covenant squad to burst in at any second.
Only once you'd cleaned up and were dressed in a set of clean civvies in your favorite color did you make yourself sit down on the couch.
"Cortana? Are they still in debrief?"
"Yes," she confirmed.
Thinking about what she had told you before, you asked, "Am I still speaking with a part of you?"
"I reassimilated our previous conversations as soon as I was within contact distance," she said. "I'm currently with John during his debrief and am speaking with you simultaneously."
"Oh, I don't want to be a distraction."
"I am quite able to multitask," she said in such an assured tone that you knew you'd made a silly statement by suggesting otherwise.
You managed to stay seated for a dozen or so more seconds, then were on your feet again. You did a quick tidying up of the room, even though it was already shipshape, and was debating what else to do when Cortana said, "Debrief has concluded."
You made yourself return to the couch and settle. Even if he comes straight here, given the time it would take to get to the lift, if there's heavy foot traffic, if someone stops him along the way, if he needs to confer with the rest of Silver first, all of that, then it'll be at least a good 15 to 20 min—"
The door unlocked and slid open, interrupting the thought, and John entered at a fast pace, still in his black undersuit and looking slightly alarmed. You jumped up at that and both of you said at the same time, "Are you okay?"
Then you crossed to him, adding, "What happened? Are you injured?" as you gave him a cursory once-over.
"No, I was just… Cor—She said you were still here but I needed to see for myself."
"Cortana?" you asked, unsure as to why he was censoring her name. Then the rest of what he said dawned on you. Wait, was I actually supposed to go back to the barracks after all?
But before you could ask, he continued, "Yeah, Cortana. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about her before. You had the right to know that whenever it seemed like we were alone, we weren't. And now that you know, if you don't want to… Look, I wouldn't blame you for wanting… out."
Your heart constricted as you realized what he was saying and you reached out to take one of his hands in both of yours. "Oh, John, that's what you're worried about?"
He kept glancing away, like he was bracing for rejection. "She'll always be here. She can't be removed."
"She doesn't have to be, not on my account," you said firmly. "I've had some time to think about this since Dr. Keyes first told me about her. She's intended to be some sort of Spartan battle enhancement, isn't she?"
He nodded, still looking past you. "She increases my reaction times, makes my connection to my Mjolnir tighter, more efficient."
"Has she kept you from getting injured or worse?"
"Yeah," he admitted.
"Then how could I be anything but glad?"
That got him to look at you.
"Did you volunteer for this?" you went on and were unsurprised when he shook his head.
"To Halsey, Spartans are weapons," he said flatly. "You don't ask your rifle if it minds being fitted with a new sight."
You squeezed his hand. "When I was trapped, buried under all of that rubble, she stayed with me. It meant a lot to not feel like I was alone. Now I know that she'll always be there with you, that whatever tight situation you get into, you won't ever be alone either."
"So you're… okay with this?" he asked hesitantly, like he didn't dare yet commit to believing you weren't about to charge out the door and leave him behind forever.
"John, I am in it to win it with you," you said assuredly and that got the corner of his mouth to twitch.
"I'm not entirely sure what that means," he confessed, "but I like the way it sounds. Yeah, I'm 'in it to win it' with you, too. And now that we've got that settled, I have to ask: is that me?"
You grinned, releasing his hand so you could go to the nightstand where you'd left the pudgy plushy in its distinctive green Mjolnir and pick it up. "It was a gift from my friends on my first day back at work."
"PFC Maria Doherty and Private Jamie Holland," he said in an offhand tone, then the corner of his mouth twitched again at your reaction. "Yeah, I know who they are. They're important to you so they're important to me."
"They wanted me to have a standby to hug when you're deployed," you said. "But now that the life-sized version is here… Permission to hug the Master Chief?"
That finally earned a full-fledged smile from him, but he aborted the motion as he started to reach for you. "I, uh, really should shower first. I came here directly from debrief." He gave the room a quick, tactical assessment. "Do you care if I use this one? I'm pretty sure I have some civvies here."
"Of course. It's your room."
He vanished through the open bathroom doorway and went left towards the shower. In short order, you heard his boots drop to the floor, followed by what was presumably his undersuit.
You and Plushy Master Chief took up a spot on the end of the bed, flipping the holo on with the intention of scanning the newsfeeds while you waited. Movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye and when you automatically looked…
…you got an absolute eyeful of naked Spartan as he retrieved a towel from the shelves on the right of the doorway.
You yanked your gaze forward, back as straight as if you were in front of every 5-star admiral who'd ever existed.
"Oh, by the way?"
You turned a little too rigidly to be convincingly nonchalant, finding him leaning around the doorway.
"It's not my room," he said, giving you a slight, soft smile. "It's ours."
It takes a considerable amount of effort to wake up in the middle of the night and not allow the scream building in his throat to break free. To untangle his grip from crumpled sheets, to slow his breathing back to something steady where his heartbeat isn't pounding in his own ears.
His dreams are not kind to him. His ghosts, even less.
You're woken up to screaming.
His adjustment has not been easy since Cortana's disappearance. So much has happened to the Master Chief in so little time, and not a single person onboard this ship has taken the opportunity to give him the time to process it.
You're determined to be the one who helps him do so. It starts off simple, as it did when you first met. Assurances of watching his back and being his partner on the field. Friendly touches on forearms and shoulders, firm nods of confirmation, always looking out for each other.
It had turned into something more when he'd saved you from the Flood.
It had turned into something more for him when you'd saved him from the group of Brute Chieftains just before High Charity had crashed. That's a whole other story for a whole other day.
John trusted you. He trusted you with his life, with himself, and that was not easy to obtain. Having the trust of The Master Chief as both a soldier and a person was like being given his heart and watching it settle into your hands.
A broken, bleeding thing.
You remember the first time he'd actually screamed. It was loud and agonizing and raw, and only hours after Miranda had died. You had maybe two hours tops before you had to activate the Ring. You'd forced him to sleep for said two hours, because he was not going to function well otherwise.
The Arbiter acted as he did not hear it. Dishonorable, he'd said, to look upon a man like that and acknowledge his turmoil.
"Well, your dishonor is our comfort."
You'd entered the room and sat by his side until he calmed down. You didn't touch him, you didn't say a word, but the act of your presence at his side was enough.
You slid his helmet back on and leaned forward to lightly knock your head against it. There is not an ounce of apprehension in your gaze. No. That's confidence.
Confidence in him.
"To war then, Master Chief."
John had come to appreciate that about you. When everyone else was betting on him to lose and the odds were entirely against him, your steady footing and steadfastness were all he needed to keep pushing forward.
He found himself seeking you out more than embracing his elusive nature and isolating to cope with what played behind his eyes when he slept. Miranda's death. Keyes death. Johnsons death. Cortana-
Cortana had taken his willingness to embrace the fight. Having you and her had rejuvenated him. Had given him a purpose that he felt he could successfully fulfill.
Then she was gone. She'd touched him, said those words that would forever be burned into his memory, and she was gone.
John would've been lying if he said he wasn't terrified that the same thing would happen to you.
That's what brought him to this point. Fingers wound tightly enough in the sheets to crumple them beneath his grasps, blue eyes wildly seeking something to anchor to while his heart pounded loudly in his ears. The moonlight fractured against the window to his right, illuminating the bedroom and his body in white as he twisted and turned on the mattress.
He didn't fully emerge from that nightmare until you opened the door.
Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not safe.
"John? Are you alright?"
You haven't moved. He can just barely see you lingering in the darkness of his doorway. You've closed the door behind you on entry, fingers wound around the wall loosely as you wait for an opening to come closer.
He needs to breathe. His chest hurts, and his eyes are on fire, and why are his cheeks wet-
You're sitting beside him in a moment's notice. He can't quite hear what you're saying now, and perhaps he doesn't need to, because all he can feel is the warmth of your hand on his chest and the other curving around his jawline. It's a stark contrast from the bitter cold of death that always seems to linger in his dreams.
He reads your lips instead as the world slowly comes back into focus. You are safe. You are with someone you trust. You are secure. All attributes that the two of you have said about one another. All attributes that caused him to allow himself to be vulnerable, to allow you to see a side of him most people didn't.
His mind shifts backwards to the first time he'd let you remove his helmet. That alone spoke volumes. Most Spartans didn't even let the other members of their fire team remove their helmets, or their armor.
It had been the talk of the Infinity for weeks.
"John." You're still giving him an opportunity to talk, and the way your gentleness and patience is so all encompassing causes the breath he'd lost to slowly come back into his lungs. "What do you need?"
The logical part of his brain knows the answer to that. He needs to win the war. He needs peace of mind. He needs sleep, and food, and Blue. He really misses Blue Team.
What he does not need is to talk about this dream. About the death. About losing you, and how watching you die finally made him wake up to a very simple realization: Losing you was not an option. Losing you could not happen, because he was in love with you, and had been for a while.
His desires had just not allowed themselves to be known when being the face of a war only he could win.
His heart, however, is what wins out in the end. Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 looks up at you and says, "You."
***
You don't know what that means. For all the time that you and John have been dancing around each other - years, in fact, because you'd resigned yourself to your feelings being one-sided long before this - you never anticipated broken, bleeding fingers shakily reaching out to wrap your own around what is left of his heart.
That is exactly what's on full display right now.
"I don't want to take advantage-"
Your breath catches in your throat as John's hands come to cradle your jaw. It's the first time he's touched you without gloves covering his fingers. It's the first time you've also been able to really see him without the helmet, and he is the most magnificent man you've ever laid eyes on.
You've wondered for years what color his eyes are. It has haunted your dreams, especially whenever the two of you were separated when the Forward Unto Dawn split.
Blue. Such a glorious, deep shade of blue.
"If I didn't want it," He says quietly. "I wouldn't ask."
You slide your knees against the standard UNSC mattress and allow him to, though slowly and hesitantly, take you into his embrace. Menial comforts are not something Spartans are afforded. To be able to take the offer of your comfort, of you, is not something he ever regret doing.
John's head slowly falls into the dip of your shoulder the minute you are in his lap. It's comfortable, and warm, and all you can feel against you is every part of him. It's exactly what you've dreamt of for all the years you've held such deeply rooted feelings for him.
You shiver as his breath fans across your skin. It's intimate. You wonder if picking his head back up to kiss him is too far, but you miss one hundred percent of the risks you don't take.
So you do.
"John," You whisper. "There's never going to be a time where I don't bet on you. You are the one who's gotten us this far, and you're the one who will see us through. I know it. I believe in you."
You watch the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, eyes brightened by the beams of moonlight from outside as you both hesitate.
"Believe in me a little bit longer," His voice is so low that you almost don't hear it, and he's the one who leans forward to follow that desire he has suppressed for is long. "Please."
You nod. Once, twice, three times.
"Always."
And the moment his mouth catches yours, the safety he has so desperately been seeking since Cortana disappeared finds itself encompassing him within their arms.
For the weary soldier, respite comes in the form of his partner: His compassionate, empathetic, gentle partner who will always be there to watch his six. To fight his demons, to ward away his ghosts.
Summary: The resistance is dead, long live the resistance.
Pairing: Master Chief/John-117 x GN!Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of characters death
A/N: A little story that came to my mind while watching the show.
The Master Chief. John-117. Out of all the people they could have chosen to interrogate you, the UNSC chose their best weapon. A man without feelings and wit. Their blunt tool to torture and kill.
“Whatever you want to know, I won’t tell you,” you dip your head to look up at the giant they sent to you. “I didn’t break for the others. I won’t break for you.”
He watches you without saying a word. If not for your training, the silence and his stoic behavior would be unsettling and scary. He’s dwarfing you with his suit and his sheer size.
“I see, you want to stare me to death,” you chuckle lightly. “I didn’t want to believe the rumors, but you are indeed a beast of a man.”
He dips his head at your words but remains silent.
“Ah, you are the kind of person waiting for me to spill everything by unnerving me with your silence.” You huff. “You’re not the first person trying to scare me.”
The master chief walks around the chair you’re sitting on. He leans against the wall and watches you fight against the restraints holding you to the chair.
“If you want me to rat out my friends and allies, you are dead wrong,” you glare at him. “I know you know nothing about friendship and honor, but I try to explain the complexity of fuck yourself to you.”
He takes off his helmet and carefully places it on the metal table in the room. If you didn’t know better, you’d believe he gave you a half-smirk.
You watch him for a moment. His face is bruised, and there is a little blood on his temple.
“I cannot tell you anything about the others because I don’t know them. We don’t know each other, only the people in the same cell know each other,” your features sadden. “But your fine friends from the UNSC already killed all of them. No prisoners, and such…”
There’s something in his eyes for a second. Sadness, maybe. It’s gone so fast that you don’t know if it has been there at all.
“What was your plan? You came here, sneak inside the building to do what?” Oh, it speaks. His voice is deep and rough. If not for the person he is, it would lull you in.
“Kill Parangosky,” you shrug. “She had it coming. A monster always waits for its slayer to come and find it. She felt safe for the longest time. Her end is near. Even if I didn’t make it far enough to kill her.”
He watches you shift in your seat. “She left all of us there to die,” you sniff. “The UNSC knew the alliance was on Reach. She saved only the people important to the UNSC and left the rest of us to die. How can you stand there and work for a monster? You swore to protect the people! All of them!”
You raise your voice and scream when memories of the people fighting alongside you flash up in your mind. They fell. One after another. The alliance knows no mercy, neither does the UNSC and its rotten members.
“They left us all to die on Reach,” John-117 finally says. He pushes off the wall and stalks toward you. “They even took our suits to make sure we die. We are not so different.”
You frown deeply. Why is he telling you this? Is this a tactic to get information out of you? The rebellion is dead. Your fight died on Reach, alongside your friends and allies.
“What do you want if you know what happened on Reach?” You sneer at him. “Ah, I get it. You follow orders without thinking. No feelings or wit keeping you from torturing people who are already lost.”
“We need allies,” he simply states. “You’re a strong ally. A reliable one not wanting to take advantage of the people fighting alongside you.” The Master Chief breaks the restraints without effort. “Humanity is on the verge of destruction.”
“An ally,” you cock a brow. “Who are you trying to kid here, Master Chief? You’re their favorite poster boy. I don’t think you want to rebel against them. This is not your fight.”
“It is now,” he stares down at you for a moment. The Master Chief considers your words and turns around to get his helmet. “You can fight alongside me or surrender to your grief and fear.”
“I’m not afraid,” you jump up and size the Master Chief up. “Not of you, nor the UNSC. If you want to kill me, do it here and now.”
He looks tired, and a little sad when his eyes meet yours. “I don’t want to kill you,” he says. “I lost two friends within a few days. One dead, the other…” He looks away. “I don’t know who to trust anymore. I broke into the room to get you out.”
“I don’t believe you,” you side-step the Master Chief, aware he can snap your neck in the blink of an eye. “If so, let me go…”
“Where do you want to go?” He questions, surveilling your reaction. “Reach got destroyed, most of the outer colonies too. There isn’t much left of the resistance. If you want to fight back, come with me.”
You take a step toward the door and another. “Not in this life, Master Chief. Maybe the resistance died on Reach, but…I’d never willingly fight alongside the poster boy of the UNSC.”
He watches you leave, shaking his head. Of course, you’d never join his fight. All your life you had to fight the UNSC.
How could you believe for one second that the great Master Chief told you the truth?
↠ description: john recalls the simplest thing to keep him going.
↠ warnings: potential slight out of character john
↠ author’s notes: this is actually based on the game, not the show. it's also from a prompt, which is the first sentence. that's why it's so short, but i really liked it so--
“I have faith in you.”
It would figure that the words would come back to John now, when that faith seemed the most misplaced. Your voice was as soft in his head now as it had been in his ear just a few nights ago, when you had been laying on his shoulder. He had voiced his concerns, his doubts that even for all of his strength, he and the other Spartans would still not be enough to cull the Flood— or stop Covenant’s activation of the Halo.
“I have faith in you,” you had said, and then braced up on an elbow. Your hair had fallen into his face and he had pushed it away only to find you leaned down. The tip of your nose had rubbed against his, and then your hand had cupped his face. Your breath had been warm against his cheek and smelled freshly of mint when you continued, “I’ve never doubted that you’ll come home to me, John. I’ve never doubted your strength or your commitment— and you’re too damn stubborn to die.”
You called it stubborn. John called it fear— he was afraid of leaving you alone, of failing you and of leaving you at the nonexistent mercy of Covenant— or worse, the Flood. When you had replaced duty as the driving force behind his actions, John was unsure. He found, though, that it was a much more fulfilling reason than Halsey had ever given him. Every ache that lingered from what Halsey had done to him, and every bruise Covenant gave him, and the loneliness that stretched in front of him when he was away from you now was all worth it if he could return to you. If he could return to you proud of what he had accomplished, it was better still. He would, in the end, settle for whatever he could get.
As John looked out at what seemed like an endless sea of creatures infected by the Flood parasites, it was your voice that came back to him. It was your words that kept him going because, though everyone had faith in the Master Chief, only one person had faith in John.
First of all, love your writing!! Second of all could I request a Master chief x reader? (Established relationship)
Where reader pampers him on their day off? You can choose whatever they do but, could it end in cuddles?🥰
Thank you in advance! <3
THANK YOUUU. I am so sorry this took ages.
"Get some shore leave, Chief- we're in deadlock for the time being."
Shore leave. John had to laugh at the idea- he hadn't had a day out of combat in weeks, maybe even months.
Spartans didn't get breaks- they were the backbone of the UNSC, the frontline defense against threats of any kind.
"Sir, with all due respect, I'm sure you can find something for me in the field-"
"Chief, it's not up for debate. The fight will still be here when you get back."
--
"I don't want to be out of the armor," John's voice was firm, with an edge you knew too well- he hated being ordered to take downtime, even when there was no fight to be had.
"Get in the Brokkr," you planted your feet and the Spartan's orange visor stayed trained on your face, unwavering.
A stalemate. Both of you were too stubborn to give in to the other.
"John, please," you cocked your head and stared into his visor, pleading your case with incredible emotional manipulation, "I haven't seen you in so long."
A sound, something like a sigh, escaped his vocal filter as John stepped into the Brokkr and let the machine go to work removing his armor.
John hated being without the Mjolnir's protection- he felt small, vulnerable...human.
But the first time he felt your hand on his arm, it was worth it.
Sometimes, he went weeks or even months without seeing you, without touching you. The feeling of your skin on his, the scent of your hair- the way your laugh sounded without the filter of his helmet.
He had almost forgotten it.
"You okay big guy?" you craned your neck to look up into his face, neutral as ever, and he nodded.
"Come on, my quarters are closer."
---
"Where does it hurt?" you ran a deft hand along the rippling muscle of John's back, fingers tracing every curve as he sat in front of you.
"Everywhere," the Spartan grunted and you scoffed.
"Be more specific."
"Here," John clasped a hand over yours and guided your fingers to the spot where his shoulder muscles met his neck.
You rubbed firmly, your thumbs making tight circles as he groaned at your touch and closed his eyes.
Your quarters were quiet, bereft of the loud noises and disruptive clamor of the rest of the base; John found his eyes growing heavy with every movement of your hands, finally able to let go, if even for just a moment.
You wrapped your arms around the Spartan's broad frame and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt the gentle vibration of a contented hum ripple through his back and you smiled.
You knew that every time he left you, there was a chance that he wouldn't return- a chance that you would read his name on your data pad to be counted among the hundreds lost to the war every day. The thought kept you up at night, nagging in your chest with claws of worry.
Your NSFW headcannons for Jerome and Carter were soooo good! Could I request one for Chief, pretty please?
Warnings: None
Pairing: Master Chief/Reader
Word Count: 280
From the Author: amigo absolutely take all of the nsfw headcanons I can physically carry-
More under the cut!
Master Chief/John-117:
He's like Carter when it comes to sex, but it's easier to help open him up to the idea
It's advised to help John get an idea of what to do, though what proves difficult is that he's sensitive, meaning he can easily be over-stimulated
Over time however, he found that he gets drunk off of the idea of being overstimulated, but he'd be damned to his grave if he told you; it's a pride thing
A very gentle partner and doesn't enjoy the idea of being rough or hard, he's purely praise for you
Body worship, all of it. Can't even say no, he may not be dominant but you're getting worshiped
He's a vanilla type of guy - prefers vaginal sex over everything else, oral and anal isn't his cup of tea
If you want John to a be a dom, he's gonna be a softy even if you're a spartan and can handle his strength
But if he's a sub? You can do as your please as long as it's within reason (No BDSM, knife play, pet play, that stuff)
Of course you have to expect John not to be around alot. He is one of the greatest spartans, so he's often deployed for missions and if you're horny, it'll be a bit before he can help you out
Adding on, John has one of the lowest sexual drives, so you got to take that into account before committing
I feel like for Master Chief, he uses sex to be closer to you and provide affection he doesn't normally give; sure, it's for pleasure, but he prizes giving love
This also means he loves giving more than receiving
You finally get some answers. Everything is not magically okay, but it could be worse.
Warnings: Swearing, some explanations, some things are still a mystery, slight suicidal thoughts, emotional turmoil, this one's a bit of a rollercoaster.
Word count: 2.2k
“This was partially my idea,” Cortana said after the silence had stretched long enough to become uncomfortable and send your nerves jangling.
“Okay,” you said slowly, gaze darting from her to John.
“He didn't tell you anything, did he?” She sounded amused now, shooting a fond glance at John. “Just like you to rely on me to do the heavy lifting.”
John huffed softly but didn't actually refute her words.
“No, he didn't, and I would really like an explanation.” You leaned back in your seat, putting physical and emotional distance between you and them.
“You were right,” Cortana admitted softly, looking at you and away. “About a lot of things. Warden was manipulating me. And… touching the Domain… it changed something in me. In my programming.”
“Like a virus,” you offered when her words petered out, her gaze far away.
“You could say that,” she agreed. “Like a virus. I didn't notice it, didn't even think it was possible. But once I got away from there and looked… well.” She waved one hand expansively. “I was able to do a lot of things.”
“Like get rid of the virus,” you guessed, though it was a safe guess. John wouldn't be sitting so calmly with her if she was still homicidal.
“Right, but more than that. I found out where you came from, too.”
That had you leaning forward, arms dropping back to your sides. “What did you find out?”
“The Forerunners never intended for AIs to use the Domain,” Cortana started, choosing her words with care. “It took me a while to figure out what I was doing and how to… control it. Sort of. I thought I was controlling it, but…”
“You stopped it,” John said softly, reassuring. Or as reassuring as he seemed to get.
“Right.” Cortana paused and then nodded. “Well, somehow, I pulled you here. I still don't know exactly how I did it - it doesn't make any sense. The Forerunners didn't have time travel technology, and yet you're here, from over 500 years in the past. I still don't fully understand it.”
“Oh.” An accident. Well, of course it was an accident. No sane person would want you from the past - there were much better people than you, if they wanted someone from your time. You had just been the idiot who ignored all her training from horror movies and investigated something.
You truly were an idiot out of time.
“But that's not all,” Cortana continued, and your heart sank. More? “As far as I can tell, when I accidentally pulled you though, I created a sort of… link between us.”
“A link.” But you knew exactly what she meant. You had felt it. The blue light in your vision, the pain, all of it.
“Must have been a side effect of pulling you through time. It didn't just effect us, though. It effected John.”
You lifted your gaze, horrified, to John's helmet. “What?” You whispered.
“I've spent so much time in his neural interface that the link formed between you and him, too. Which helped, I'm sure. Not that he would have abandoned you, but he never would have brought you to me otherwise.”
“That's enough,” John said, soft but firm, though his helmet was fixed on you.
You barely noticed. A mental link, between the three of you. You had been… what, manipulating John? This whole time? Your very presence had influenced his choices, made him do things he wouldn't normally do.
He probably didn't even actually like you. Just the bits of Cortana you were attached to.
“Get rid of it.” You almost didn't recognize your own voice, hoarse and pained. You could barely even feel your lips moving past the weight of shock and hurt.
“I already did.” Cortana popped one hip, though she couldn't look right at you. “Before I brought you to John. I think breaking that connection sent you into shock. You'd been unconscious for a while.” She looked down, shoulders curving. “It nearly killed you. I nearly killed you.”
You swallowed back your immediate reaction, which, right now, was to demand she do a better job next time and just kill you outright. You breathed in. “You didn't know,” you said tonelessly. “None of us knew. Excuse me.” You stood and went around the holo table, not getting close enough to touch John despite the fact that you desperately wanted to.
Maybe especially because you desperately wanted to.
The first door you chose led into the cockpit. You debated leaving, but Fred had already turned his head to check. He looked at you for a moment and then wordlessly pointed to the chair next to him.
You dropped into the chair gracelessly, leaning back in the chair and staring straight out ahead.
You hated the silence but you couldn't sit in the other room right now. Not after learning you'd been influencing John. And possibly Cortana too, although you felt almost no guilt about that, since you'd prevented her from mass destruction.
“Chief doesn't make friends easily,” Fred said out of nowhere, startling you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to look at him, but he was looking straight ahead. “None of us do. For a long time, all we had was each other.”
You shook your head slowly, the desire to hug them all returning. “You all survived so much,” you murmured.
“I've never seen him take to someone so fast.” Fred finally did look at you, and probably saw your flinch. That had definitely struck a still very raw nerve. “And I'm glad he did, no matter the reason. You're good for him. For us.”
“How?” You asked, slumped hopelessly in your seat, head turned towards him. “I was… messing with his head.” You lifted one hand to twiddle your fingers at your own head.
Fred shrugged. “Cortana explained that,” he said. “Didn't seem to me like you did much besides be in the wrong place at the right time.” He paused, and there was a clear smirk in his voice when he spoke again. “Making big eyes at Chief probably helped.”
You snorted. You couldn't help it. “Big eyes?”
“Oh, yeah. Big, trusting eyes. Terrified, but trusting. Easy to see you were hurt and scared, but you still trusted him.” Fred shrugged again. “At the time, I figured you just knew our reputation.”
“I didn't. I honestly don't know if that would have made a difference anyway.” You turned your head front again, brow furrowing as you tried to find the words. “I just… I saw John, and I trusted him. Knew he wasn't going to hurt me. It still only sort of makes sense, but…” You trailed off and shrugged.
“Do you still trust him?”
“Yes.” You didn't even think, the answer ingrained in you already.
Fred nodded and looked at you, lifting his hand up to his helmet. His first two fingers made a quick swipe over the helmet where his mouth would be.
You smiled, the gesture unfamiliar to you, but somehow you knew it was meant to be a smile. To be something good. “Thank you, Fred,” you whispered.
He nodded, those same two fingers reaching across the open space to touch your forehead. “Shortstack.”
You laughed, tension spilling out of you as you swatted harmlessly at his hand. “And you ruined the mood. Here I was, all set to hug you despite that armor, and then you ruined it.”
“Aw,” he deadpanned, absolutely unimpressed.
“No, no, mood's gone, no hugs for you.” You grinned at him, still fighting down the last of the giggles. You resettled yourself in your seat, breathing out slowly, looking outside. “Where are we?”
“Heading towards a colony planet,” Fred answered after a moment. “It's the closest Guardian.”
You nodded, eyes a little unfocused since the view outside didn't much change. “How long until we get there?”
“Another few hours.” Fred glanced over at you. “If you want to take a nap.”
You breathed in deep, holding it long enough to feel the ache, before you let it all out in a whoosh. “I don't think so,” you murmured. “Can I just stay in here?”
“Of course.” Fred settled a little more in his seat, glancing at you before focusing on flying again.
You didn't mind this so much. You could just hear him breathing, the steady whir of the ship's engines different enough from the Guardian that you didn't feel so alone.
After a little while, Kelly came in, dropping a bottle of water and a protein bar on your lap. “We've got an hour left,” she said, standing slightly behind you with her arm across Fred's chair.
“Not bad.” You cracked open the water, sipping from it. Now that you thought about it, you were a little hungry. But the signals seemed a little… muted. Delayed.
Weird. You'd think about that later.
“Let me guess. You all go blow stuff up, I stay on the ship.” You didn't mind that plan, actually. Not being in mortal peril for a while sounded good.
“Sounds right.” Kelly tipped her head at you. “Why? Hoping to do more sight seeing?”
“No thank you. I like not getting shot at.” You grinned at her. “But if you all wanted to make a pit stop on a new planet…”
Kelly snorted. “We'll see,” was all she said, turning away. “Eat up.” The door slid shut near-silently behind her.
You tore open the protein bar, chewing it slowly. “Why did you bring me along?” You asked suddenly, frowning. “I mean, I can't help with this stuff.” You waved a vague hand at the ship, meaning to encompass everything.
Fred was quiet, glancing at you, but he didn't answer. You had just frowned at him, starting to get annoyed, when the door opened.
“Do you want the easy answer or the hard one?” Cortana asked.
You shot Fred a betrayed look before you turned to look. John stood in the open doorway, Cortana standing in the palm of his outstretched hand.
“Both.” You refused to look away this time, feeling steadier already.
“You were right to be wary of that doctor. He's ONI. They suspect you're not who Chief said you are.” Cortana spoke matter-of-factly.
You nodded. You'd seen enough of ONI in the files to know that their suspicion was bad. “Definitely a good idea to get away from them,” you agreed. “And the other reason?”
“We wanted you to come.” John spoke this time, steady as ever. “I wanted you to come.”
You squashed down the warmth and happiness that simple sentence had inspired. “Are you sure?” You pressed, fingers twining around each other. “With, y'know, the link and all.” You half-shrugged, half-jerked your head, unsure how else to communicate.
“I'm sure.” John stepped closer, and Fred stood, managing to slip past John and out. The door shut behind him, leaving you with John and Cortana again.
“How can you be sure?” You pressed, sitting up and watching as he sat in the pilot's seat.
“I thought about it. The entire time you were unconscious.”
You went very still at that, staring at him with wide eyes. “You… did?” Even to your own ears, you sounded faint.
John nodded, sitting up perfectly straight, helmet aimed straight at you.
“Oh.” You smiled slowly, warmth finally flushing through you. “Well. I mean. In that case. I guess you mean it.”
“I do.”
You breathed out slowly, watching him. “Okay. So I'm along for the ride, not going anywhere. I also can't be of much help with the Guardians.”
“Trust me, these guys have got that down fine,” Cortana piped up. “Besides, I think you could help me.”
“With what?” You didn't even try to keep the confusion out of your voice.
“The lifespan of the AIs.”
“Ah.” You sat back a little, surprised. “You realize I know nothing about that, right?”
“That might be useful,” Cortana said. “You don't know how things are supposed to work, so your ideas might be more helpful.”
“Whatever you say,” you said, shaking your head. You didn't get it, but you didn't have to. “I can help with that, sure.”
“Chief has something for you. I made it while we were on the Infinity. Just a little something to help.” Cortana looked expectantly up at John.
John held out something small in his other hand. You took it, picking it up and turning it over. Actually, it reminded you of an earbud, similar in style and, you'd guess, in function.
“That's connected to comms,” Cortana told you. “You'll be able to keep track of us. There are two buttons on the side - one is to mute your end, and the other is to switch uses. If, for example, you wanted to connect it to your data pad, you can do that.”
“Cool. Thanks.” You popped it in, adjusting it until it sat right. Once it was in, you could hardly feel it. “Do I have to turn it on?”
“No,” Kelly answered, sounding amused. “You're patched in.”
“Very cool.” You smiled and felt for the two buttons.
“Top mutes your end,” Cortana told you, watching you until you muted your end.
“That should be helpful,” you muttered. “So I assume you all are going to go blow up the Guardian as soon as we get there.”
“Affirmative.” John nodded, still watching you.
“Well.” You managed a little smile. “I'll be here for the fireworks.”
