Restless Night

Location: UNSC Forward Operating Base - Barracks

Date: January 15, 2533

Time: 2300 Hours

The barracks were quiet that night, the air thick with the weight of tomorrow's mission. Most of the rookies were already asleep, their gear prepped and ready for the early deployment. I stood by the window, looking out at the dark expanse of the base, my thoughts drifting between the mission and the past year. Everything had changed since Allen and Fumble. The war had hardened us, pushed us into new roles, new responsibilities. But in the quiet moments, the ghosts of the past still lingered.

I heard soft footsteps behind me and turned to see Sam approaching. She wasn't in her usual medic's gear—just a simple tank top and fatigues, her hair loose around her shoulders. The sight of her like this, in the calm before the storm, felt strangely intimate. Not that anyone else would think so. To the rest of the squad, we were just close friends—two soldiers who had been through hell together.

But I knew the truth. And so did she.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, her voice soft as she joined me by the window.

I shook my head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Not tonight."

She nodded, leaning against the wall beside me, her shoulder brushing lightly against mine. The touch was subtle, but it sent a familiar warmth through me, a reminder of the quiet moments we'd shared after the loss of Allen and Fumble. It had started as comfort—two people finding solace in each other during one of the darkest times of our lives. But over time, it had become more than that. Off and on, when the weight of the war felt too heavy, we found each other. But we never let it interfere with the mission. Duty came first. Always.

"Big day tomorrow," she said, her voice low. "You ready?"

I nodded, glancing down at her. "As ready as I'll ever be. You?"

She shrugged, her eyes flicking to the rookies sleeping in their bunks. "I'll be there to patch you all up, as usual."

I chuckled softly, the sound almost bitter. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

She didn't say anything for a moment, just stood there in the quiet with me, the unspoken understanding between us filling the space. In front of the others, we kept it simple—friends, comrades, nothing more. But in these quiet moments, when no one else was watching, the connection was different. Deeper.

"You've changed," she said after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glanced at her, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You're not the same guy you were when you joined Beta Four," she said, her gaze steady. "You've grown into something… more. And I'm not just talking about the stripes on your shoulder."

I looked away, the weight of her words settling over me. She wasn't wrong. I wasn't the same person anymore. The war, the losses—it had all shaped me into someone new. But I wasn't sure if I liked who I had become. "I don't know if that's a good thing."

"It is," she said softly, turning toward me. Her hand brushed against mine for just a second, a fleeting touch, but it was enough. "Trust me, Cass."

That name again. Cass. It wasn't just a nickname anymore—it was who I had become. And hearing it from her, here in the quiet, felt different. Like it carried more meaning.

I met her gaze, and for a moment, the tension between us was palpable. The years of shared grief, shared battles, and those moments when we found something more than just friendship in each other's arms. But we both knew the truth. The mission came first. We were soldiers, and this—whatever it was—would always take a backseat to the war.

"You should get some rest," I said, my voice low as I broke the silence. "We've got a long day ahead."

She smiled, a small, knowing smile, and stepped back. "Yeah. You're probably right."

She turned to leave, but just before she walked away, she paused, looking over her shoulder at me. "Stay safe tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, my chest tightening. "You too, Sam."

She left then, disappearing into the shadows of the barracks, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The warmth of her presence lingered, but it was always fleeting. We both knew that whatever we had would stay in the shadows, hidden behind duty and the expectations of those around us.

But as I stood there, staring out into the darkness, I couldn't shake the feeling that one day, when the war was over—if it ever ended—maybe we'd find a way to let it be more. Until then, we were soldiers first. And that was enough.