Can you imagine John's reaction to finding out his partner became a Spartan-IV when he came back? When he sees them again, they're different yet the same. There is a hardness to them he hasn’t seen before, but when they look at him, they just soften to the person he remembers.
And later, when they're alone, he traces all their new scars and old wounds from battles he knows nothing about. The wound of Cortana being gone is still fresh but now he blames himself for his partner’s suffering too. In his mind, he’s let down two people close to him, regardless of what you tell him. John doesn’t even know how to ask why you did this or how this happened, he just feels so much guilt, like he's to blame for this happening, that he couldn't keep his promise to protect you.
He will do his damn best to reroute orders to have you on Blue team, only to find out you’ve met them and they've been watching your back this whole time and you theirs. Fred just gives you a nod and greeting, saying it's good to see you again and he's glad you're doing well [aka glad you're not dead], Kelly bumps her shoulder against yours affectionately, something she only ever does with her spartans, asking if you're ready to cause trouble and Linda shocks John by giving you a spartan smile on your helmet, which you promptly return. He has no idea who you're asking about when you turn to Fred and wonder about the Ferrets and company, a note of warmth taking hold in your tone.
He finds out it's Kelly who hunted his partner down the moment she heard rumors about you being involved with him and made it her personal mission to watch over you, a mission that Fred and Linda jump aboard instantly without even meeting his partner first. When Fred found out you joined the Spartan IV program, he requested your transfer to Blue team indefinitely and the three had trained you to be the best after them. So that you could survive their world to see John again and he feels his chest constrict when he knows he's the reason you signed yourself up for their world of bloodshed and war.
| > I apologize for taking so long with these, my motivation wasn’t in the right place at the time, but I hope, at least, these are good enough. It was a request for @owomonster2 of Jorge X m!reader (I couldn’t exactly remember the request at the top of my head so i hope these do!) More under the cut
> I can imagine spartans themselves aren’t picky with who they find attraction to; afterall, they were bred for war and to discriminate against none
> When the newest member, Spartan B132, joined Noble Team, all eyes noticed his optimized and lethal performance, but Jorge saw deeper than the blank facade he always had
> Hence Jorge sought daily conversations with them when he could, desiring to discover more about the supposed ‘hyper-lethal’ assassin; does he remember what his life was like before Reach, what sort of adventures he’s been on, etc.
> Much to the Spartan-II’s surprise at first, Spartan B132 responded with a casual, serene tone; it was considered a rarity to speak with such friendliness, as most spartans are known to be stoic iron-clad warriors
> It was here that sparked Jorge’s interest in the new Noble member and he became more attentive
> Both of you tied a bond with each other through multiple discussions that ranged from the realistic to utter fantasy and make-believe; the bond tightened significantly through your shared empathy concerning civilians
> You and Jorge were looped together into a knot as time proceeded and it shined brighter than stars; it was no secret that both of you had a thing for one another, something that was rare for spartans, and the rest of Noble Team saw it easily
> Now, to break all seriousness for a moment, Carter is 100% the dad here
> He’s concerned for a wide variety of reasons, but converts this concern into dad mode - he seeks out you and Jorge individually to talk about the blossoming flowers, and he was blunt about it
> Jorge was confident and didn’t hide his feelings for you, but it semi-grew into a ramble about the Spartan-II’s love for Nobe-6 that Carter had to sit through; the commander didn’t mind surprisingly, it does give him more insight than the surface level
> You were a little harder to get to however; it was in your blood to not let classified information into the wrong hands, and your relationship with Jorge you deemed classified - you didn’t hate Carter, no, but it’s what he would do with the information that set you on edge
> Eventually you were coaxed into giving some details about the blossoms, but the whole ‘interrogation’ made you tense and alert
> With Cat, she was the mother; she wants the best for both parties, though made clear reminders of not to hurt each other and use frequent communication, after all, that's what her and Carter do
> Emile was the one who didn’t bother to care, “You do what you do, as long as I don’t find both of you making out in the damn closet.”
> It was at that point you and Jorge became official.. you both knew that for precautions, you hid your relationship from your superiors
> Jorge was a softy and, when he’s not busy, loves to write short poems even if they aren’t the strongest
> It was a hobby he was taught by a civilian once - he learned the basics of how to make a haiku, which was the easiest for him, and advanced his skills when he wasn’t deployed on a mission
> He wrote a few for you - it had a sweet, sappy feeling intertwined, but wasn’t overbearing in the slightest; they highlighted your strengths, bravery, and confidence
> You tried your shot at writing a few, but it was.. let’s just say you prefer sticking to your guns and knives
> If you were too lazy to rise out of your bed, Jorge would be the one to open up, drag you out of bed and carry you on his back, not bothered by how heavy you are (you hated him at times for doing this, you have an image to maintain)
> Another quality that had Jorge enamoured about you was your status of hyper-lethality - only one other spartan had such, so he was eager to see you in combat, training or otherwise
> You try to size him up when it comes to exercise, be it lifting weights or doing simple push ups, Jorge finds the competition heart-warming and always encourages you all the way
> He never wants to see you be hurt by any means, and he always tells you if you need to take cover, let him take the rain - but sometimes you can’t always make it, and it throws Jorge overboard
> Jorge tries not to lose his head when he sees you covering behind a wall, Cat tending to your injuries; it makes him fight harder for you, to provide you time to heal or get an evac - bullets mow down his enemies with terrifying efficiency, and if he runs out? The enemies would wish he had more shots to fire
> He’s a worry-heart about your safety after such a close encounter, he helps you up when you need it or be the one to tell you to rest if you’re pushing yourself too hard
> Jealousy wise, what’s he need to be jealous of? Jorge has strong trust in you and knows you’d never go behind him like that; when anyone flirts with you, you’re sure to tell them that you’re already taken and take your leave
Omgg Jerome 092 with a reader who goes MIA during a mission? He finds her later, she doesn't recognize him until he takes the helmet off, yk, angst angst angst! (and comfort bc ofc) >:)))
Hi dear! Thank you so much for my first Jerome request. I didn't go to heavy into the angst. It's been a minute for me, so I'm a bit rusty. I hope you enjoy <3
You're Late
Jerome - 092 X GN!Reader
Callsign: Shade - Spartan 090
----
M.I.A.
They are letters no one wants to read, to hear or speak.
The letters are like a plague; it creeps up through your veins and freezes you, turning you to stone.
It’s everyone’s fear to be reported M.I.A. – it’s every loved ones worse nightmare to receive the news, that their partner… Their other half… is M.I.A.
You’re on edge, living inside a never ending spiral of ‘what ifs’ and the unknown…
With no end in sight.
Spartans.
It’s a singular word that has strike fear into men and creatures alike… It shakes the very foundation that holds planets and kingdoms.
They are the backbone of this war – the last thing between life and death…
‘Spartans Never Die, they’re just missing in action.’
The saying has been etched into Jerome’s mind for days, bordering a week since the mission.
He hisses at the thought; he has seen fellow Spartans die; heard the whispers that another Spartan had been taken down by The Covenant.
They had been labeled M.I.A – not K.I.A, though at this point the lines blur and Jerome doesn’t know the difference anymore.
But you… God, not you…
You.
A fellow Spartan II.
Callsign: Shade.
His ray of peace and hope.
Had been given those three letters, and now he feels sick.
It was a mission, just like all the others. Red Team had been sent out to scout the area, where heavy Covenant presence sat.
You were his right hand, his most trusted…
You both had joined the Spartan II program at the same time; and ever since he could remember, he had always taken a shrine to you, wanted to protect you from everything and anything that could take you from him.
The mission had been going well – too well for his liking.
Covenant bastards fell one by one, you and him were a force to be reckoned with.
His A.I. Isabel had informed the team of a heavy amount of reinforcements heading their way.
Jerome, doesn’t remember what happened next, and everything seemed like a blur, as if his memory – his brain was trying to process what losing you could mean to him.
He remembers seeing you; you always protected his right side, a habit that had been engraved in the early stages of your relationship.
He remembers fighting…
Then suddenly he was cold, and he could no longer feel you near him.
That’s been two months, three weeks, four days, ten hours, and fifteen…. Sixteen minutes… Since, he screamed your name as Red Team had been forced to pull back, dragging their Team Leader with an iron like grip.
Isabel had searched, hoping to see your distress signal, some kind of beacon that indicated you were alive.
Jerome hadn’t slept – he refused to go into Cyro… Not until he knew you were safe…
You had to be alive… You promised him…
Jerome sits in his quarters, head hanging low as he tries to focus.
He knows the feeling of loss; he has seen loss and death firsthand – it came with the territory of being a Spartan.
But this felt different… It felt wrong.
Love was uncommon to most Spartans – duty to humanity would always come first; it had to be.
But you and him weren’t like most Spartans.
You both had proven to the UNSC, and to your fellow Spartans, that your objective never changed.
God, Jerome was beyond lucky to have found you… You were his salvation, the calm inside the storm.
His life was yours, his heart, mind, body and soul were yours.
“Jerome,” Isabel’s voice rings through his helmet.
“What is it?” Jerome’s voice is etched with unease and exhaustion.
“Listen… I have something you may want to look at…”
Jerome opens his eyes, watching as Isabel pulls up an outlined map with a tiny red dot, “Wanna guess what that is?”
Her voice sounds a bit excited, with a smidge cockiness.
Jerome stands up, eyes wide and frantic as he feels his chest rising and falling with a renewed energy, “It’s them?”
“Spartan 090, Callsign: Shade”
Jerome moves with purpose, calling his team to meet him in the hangar bay, as he gathers weapons and ammo.
“Hostiles?” Jerome speaks to Isabel.
“None that I can find. This area is isolated, seems odd to find them here, but… It is them nonetheless…”
“Are they alive?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
-
The area is lush in forest and greenery… Jerome can smell the humidity in the air, the dense sweltering heat that drips with each step he takes.
He had told the team, they had a location on Shade, and come hell or high waters, they were all going home.
“Alright Isabel, you got their location?”
The A.I.’s face pops up inside Jerome’s helmet, as she scans the area, “I’ve got them, right here, just north of your location.”
“Alright, Red Team let’s move… On me,” Jerome takes point, his assigned rifle in hand as they scope the forest for any lingering threats.
The walk is blistering and Jerome feels the sweat lining his suit.
“Of all places to find them, how did they end up here?” Douglas – 042 whispers.
“Could be if The Covenant took Shade, they managed to escape and that’s how we were able to finally get their distress signal,” Alice – 130 responds.
“Why would The Covenant even come through this area?”
“Beats the hell out of me, though this area seems rich in minerals, there isn’t any other life for miles.”
Jerome tunes out his team, he knows they mean well, but right now his focus sits on them, and how his heart races.
“Jerome, target is moving. They seem to be running, heading your way now.” Isabel interrupts his train of thought.
Jerome’s grip on his rifle tightens – he doesn’t know what to expect when he sees them.
He had heard stories of Spartans who had been P.O.W to The Covenant, who had been found on the brink of death, tortured and battered.
Had they been tortured?
“Heads up! Covenant!” Isabel screams.
“Look alive! We’ve got company!” Jerome charges forward, as the visual in his helmet flashes red, in the faint distance he sees a silhouette of Spartan armor struggling to fight off The Covenant.
Jerome’s turn of speed and haste are a blur, his armor reflects bits of sunlight, the crimson paint on the right side of his breast plate, a stark contrast to greyish green.
The Covenant group is small in numbers, nothing him and the team can’t handle – but he can see Elites and Brutes with scatters of Grunts and Jackals.
He sees you.
You’re injured, he can see you protecting your right side, as you grip a plasma sword in hand; Isabel scans your vitals, telling the Spartan, your right arm is broken with at least two broken ribs.
He hears your screams as you struggle to keep your balance.
Your black matte armor, shimmering with splatters of blueish – green blood.
“Shade!” Jerome roars, as he and the team open fire.
-
It doesn’t take long for Jerome, Shade and The Red Team to eliminate the remaining Covenant.
Jerome turns to you, putting his rifle down, “Love?” His voice is soft, barely a whisper.
You watch him - studying him…
“It’s me… Jerome,” he steps closer, hands out in front of him, as if he was approaching a wounded animal.
“Jerome?”
“Yeah, it’s me sweetheart…”
You’re watching him, unsure of what seems real in this moment – his armor is different, the red paint, the color, it seemed battle worn and intimidating… his stance seemed rigid, you can see the tension in his shoulders even with the armor.
Jerome sighs heavily, hands clasping the edge of his helmet, lifting it with a familiar hiss.
Your eyes widened, heart rate spiking – the pain rattling through your body long since forgotten as fresh tears wet your eyes.
Jerome places his helmet down on the ground, his light blueish gray eyes, dark with exhaustion and renewed hope.
“Hi pretty…” Jerome’s voice is a soft, gruff of a whisper without the helmet to modify it.
You breathe a sigh of relief as the realization sweeps you away; licking dried lips, you too remove your helmet, eyes baring down into his.
“You’re late,” your voice dripping with sass and love.
Jerome gives you his crooked smile, “I’ll make it up to you… I promise.”
They are letters no one wants to read, to hear or speak.
The letters are like a plague; it creeps up through your veins and freezes you, turning you to stone.
It’s everyone’s fear to be reported M.I.A. – it’s every loved ones worse nightmare to receive the news, that their partner… Their other half… is M.I.A.
You’re on edge, living inside a never ending spiral of ‘what ifs’ and the unknown…
With no end in sight.
Spartans.
It’s a singular word that has strike fear into men and creatures alike… It shakes the very foundation that holds planets and kingdoms.
They are the backbone of this war – the last thing between life and death…
‘Spartans Never Die, they’re just missing in action.’
The saying has been etched into Jerome’s mind for days, bordering a week since the mission.
He hisses at the thought; he has seen fellow Spartans die; heard the whispers that another Spartan had been taken down by The Covenant.
They had been labeled M.I.A – not K.I.A, though at this point the lines blur and Jerome doesn’t know the difference anymore.
But you… God, not you…
You.
A fellow Spartan II.
Callsign: Shade.
His ray of peace and hope.
Had been given those three letters, and now he feels sick.
