Well, I'm baaaack! I know, sorry for the long wait. I've done nothing but homework, it seems. Lots on my plate! Sorry if updates aren't as quick as they were. First, I have to write the whole story and then edit it as I go along.

For new readers: This is a continuation of A Spartan's Peaceful Heartbeat, told during the same chronological timeline from the perspective of Dr. Halsey, Kelly, Linda, Fred, Mendez, Tom, and Lucy, stuck in the Dyson sphere (for now). This is an AU story. I started it before Halo 4 came out, and it doesn't follow Glasslands, either, though you can take Ghosts of Onyx with this storyline. Feel free to tap in with anything you want to say; I love love love reviews!

Prologue: The Dyson Sphere

Kelly frowned behind her helmet; Lucy and Tom were fidgeting again, though silently. She glanced over at Linda without moving her head and knew, from the position of the Spartan II's shoulders, that she, too, saw the twitching. The tiny Spartan III, Lucy-B091, was still startling; she was half a foot shorter than the IIs, and four inches shorter than Tom-B292. Both were lithe and muscular, but Lucy looked up to even Dr. Halsey. She didn't speak, either, no matter what; Tom translated for her or she used hand-signals.

The four guards were ranged on the back-side of a small hill, between the plains of grass in front of them and the cave behind them, which was dug into the side of a larger hill. It had taken several hours to do it; they didn't have shovels, and there wasn't any wood around, either, to make them from. Fred – Lieutenant Fred, Kelly reminded herself, with a small pang of sadness for the loss of Kurt – had taken charge.

Tom and Lucy were just ticking time bombs, Kelly knew; they clearly weren't functioning at 100%. Neither were the IIs, but they, at least, weren't jumping at every sound. Dr. Halsey had obviously seen it; her blue-grey eyes missed nothing, especially when it concerned Spartans she hadn't even known existed until recently.

"Kelly." Linda's soft voice over her comm – a private channel – woke the Spartan II from her thoughts. She clicked once, in acknowledgement, though she made no outward sign of their communication. "Three o'clock; I think there's a bird."

They both turned their heads to look in synchronized movement that only Spartans could manage; belatedly, Tom and Lucy caught the hint and glanced over, as well, though it was technically out of their line of sight and they moved their gaze back rapidly.

"Looks like," Kelly muttered, squinting at the far-off speck. It certainly was flying – though whether a bird or machine was hard to tell.

"Bogie at three," Linda told Fred calmly; the Lieutenant came out from the cave where he had been talking softly with the Chief and Dr. Halsey.

"Defensive positions," Fred ordered. Instantly, Tom and Lucy moved back and up, onto the lip over the cave. Fred, Linda, and Kelly ranged in front of the cave's mouth, Linda on her stomach and the other two crouching to her sides. The Chief stayed in the cave with Dr. Halsey.

The speck grew larger – it was clearly a machine. Kelly sighted along her rifle at it, but didn't yet fire. The Sentinels back on Onyx didn't take that sort of attack kindly, and they didn't have the terrain – or weapons – to fight off even a single one. Her rifle was empty anyway, but if the machine couldn't tell, it might not be willing to attack a clearly well-defended cave.

"Steady. Hold fire," Fred ordered. Kelly could hear the elevated breathing of Tom and Lucy behind her; in contrast, the IIs were utterly calm, calculating the best angles of attack should the thing prove hostile.

The drone of the machine reached them just as Kelly began making out details of the thing. A small sphere, with a glowing eye in the middle. It looked to be hovering without any visible means of propulsion.

It came closer, drifting along sedately. As it closed with them, Kelly realized the drone she had been hearing was actually a humming, and it stopped when the machine was within a hundred yards. It halted and observed them, its blue glowing "eye" looking over each one carefully.

Fred shifted and the machine came forward just a bit, almost warily. The three IIs shared a glance; Fred stepped forward and held his hands out, palms up – a universal "don't shoot, I'm unarmed" gesture. Kelly and Linda lowered their empty weapons.

The little ball hovered closer, coming within almost fifty meters. Now Kelly could clearly see the booms to either side of the spherical "eye," rather like curved squares. It said something – but they didn't recognize the language, if that was what it was.

"We don't understand," Fred said slowly. The machine trilled; it sounded happy.

"Do you understand now?" it asked, floating a tiny bit closer. Fred's eyebrow rose.

"Yes."

"You are human?" It sounded slightly unsure; the IIIs were in the SPI armor, and the IIs were encased in their MJOLNIR Mark IVs.

"Yes," Fred answered again, tapping his chest. "I am Lieutenant Frederic-104, of the United Nations Space Command."

"I am 957 Keen Sacrifice, at your service, 104."

Fred nodded and turned back to the cave. "Dr. Halsey," he called. The doctor came out quickly, followed by Chief Mendez, who scowled at the alien construct.

The doctor observed the small orb closely, grey-blue eyes lighting up, though she didn't go in front of Fred; if it turned dangerous, she would be completely exposed.

"I am 957 Keen Sacrifice, at your service, Dr. Halsey," the thing said in greetings, trilling softly. Tom and Lucy leapt down from their position; Kelly and Linda stood. "You are a large group, indeed. I felt the disturbance of your arrival and I came as quickly as I could."

"What is your purpose?" Dr. Halsey asked curiously.

The eye looked at her, and the voice from the machine sounded a little condescending. "To protect this world and husband its inhabitants against illness, disease, war, and the Great Flood, of course. You are the first to arrive, since my creator left. It is very exciting."

Dr. Halsey raised an eyebrow – the Spartans shifted slightly. "How long have you been here?"

"That is not important," the machine said airily. "You are here now. Though why you felt you had to destroy the Shield World to get here…"

"That wasn't us," Dr. Halsey replied. "It was the Covenant – they have been attacking our kind for years now. We are sorely needed outside; can you release us from this sphere?"

"Oh, certainly."

Chief Mendez sighed softly in relief, as did the doctor; the Spartans kept their relief to themselves.

"But you will have to come with me. I'm afraid the systems have been severely degraded by time. Come, come, this way." It spurred off quickly; Dr. Halsey dashed back into the cave to gather their supplies.

"Dr. Halsey, is this thing trustworthy?"

"It's our best bet of getting out of here," the woman answered, jogging after the machine with her grey hair bouncing. The Spartans quickly formed a defensive perimeter around her and Chief Mendez; the machine floated above them and led them on, always with their back to the source of light.

It didn't speak again, preferring, apparently, to hum. At least it wasn't tuneless, though by the time "dusk" was setting as the light source dimmed, all of the company was heartily tired of the sound above their heads.

They walked through the plains, the tall grass softly hissing against the Spartan's armor and their footsteps quiet on the soft dirt. In the distance, as they trooped after the machine, Linda could barely make out the shadow of a tall structure – or perhaps several – against the horizon. When asked, Keen Sacrifice admitted that it was their destination. It didn't seem to get any bigger as they marched through the day.

Dr. Halsey stumbled slightly as it grew darker, tripping over a rock; Fred grasped her arm gently. "Thanks," the doctor chuckled softly. "I need a break," she admitted ruefully. She sat on a boulder; Fred and Linda took first watch and circled the perimeter as the rest sat down or lay down.

The machine hovered uncertainly and then descended to speak with the doctor. "We cannot afford delay, Dr. Halsey," it sputtered unhappily.

"Not all of us can march through the day and night, Keen Sacrifice," Dr. Halsey chuckled. "We need a break – we're only flesh and blood creatures."

"Oh, well…" It sounded unsure. "Will it take long?"

"Five hours should do it." This clearly didn't make the machine any happier; it flittered about nervously and then darted back.

"If I should bring transportation, will you be able to continue?" it asked. Dr. Halsey nodded and it zipped away without another comment.

Fred removed his helmet for a moment, letting the cool breeze dry the sweat in his streaked black hair; his grey eyes met Linda's green as she pulled off her own helmet, shaking out her thin-shorn red hair. They kept their backs to the company, watching outwards for any sign of danger. Kelly, too, removed her helmet, though her brown hair was more black than anything with sweat and her blue eyes glared after the little machine.

"What kind of AI is it, Doctor?" she asked Dr. Halsey. Chief Mendez listened in, though his brown eyes were closed. Tom and Lucy, though still slightly unsure of Dr. Halsey, both watched her as she spoke.

"It's obviously Forerunner – an ancilla left to keep the peace here. But if they never got around to stocking this sphere with animals, it's been here for eons without anything to do. Our AIs have an operational life of seven to eight years – this one may well be rampant."

"Is it safe?" Fred asked curtly.

"Well, that would depend on what you mean by 'safe,'" Dr. Halsey said softly. Kelly scowled; Dr. Halsey's idea of "safe" had been to kidnap her and bring her to Onyx. "If it is rampant, its core coding – to protect the creatures here – may mean it won't let us leave. If, however, it managed to remain 'sane,' it may be willing to help us return to our friends, though how long that will take I cannot say."

"It is possible that it's lying?" Linda asked quietly.

The doctor thought for a moment. "Possibly. But even if it turns against us, we have five Spartans here – surely we can handle anything it throws at us. Plus, it had brought us within eyesight of some sort of structure, which is better than a cave in the hillside."

Chief Mendez broke out the supplies, handing everyone a high-density meal bar from their limited supply. "Hopefully they have food," he grunted.

They all ate quickly, unwilling to really taste the super-dense food. Then Linda and Fred put their helmets back on and returned to their patrol; the others lay down for a quick nap.

Linda and Fred woke simultaneously, however, as the ground underneath them rumbled softly; Tom and Lucy were just behind them, and all four stood to join Kelly and Chief Mendez, on watch. They tried to pinpoint the direction the sound was coming from; at last, Kelly pointed into the darkness and everyone strained their eyesight.

Bright light flooded the camp; Dr. Halsey woke with a soft gasp and the Spartans all shielded their eyes, crouching defensively.

"Will this do for transport, Dr. Halsey?"

Kelly couldn't see the infernal little blob, but it was whirring near-by. She lashed out and grabbed it, moving as quickly as possible. It squeaked slightly, startled, as she yanked it down to face-level. Her visor had polarized and filtered out the blinding light, so she could see the thing.

Dr. Halsey touched her arm gently. "It's alright, Kelly," she said softly. "Keen Sacrifice brought us a ship of some sort." She moved towards the source of the bright lights; everyone hurried to follow her except Kelly.

"Never sneak up on us like that again," Kelly hissed at the ancilla before releasing it.

"Really," it huffed, floating away quickly. "You might appreciate the lengths to which I went to bring this here for your leader."

Kelly didn't respond; she trotted into the lights and found the team gathered around the platform, which seemed to be hovering. Its lights pierced the absolute darkness. Dr. Halsey climbed on board, using the small break in a railing that encircled the deck of the thing, and moved towards the lights. There was a control panel there, equipped with several read-out screens scrolling with Forerunner symbols and two simple joysticks.

"Looks easy enough," the doctor muttered, setting her knapsack at her feet.

"Let us go quickly," Keen Sacrifice urged, staying well away from Kelly as the rest of the group climbed onto the deck. The platform didn't even wobble as the nearly two tons of Spartans, in their Mark IVs, climbed on board.

Dr. Halsey played with the controls for a moment, resulting in the ship's lurching about in every direction, including up, before setting the joystick in her right hand forward and leaving the other one alone. They shot forward; Mendez grabbed onto the railing for support while the Spartans set their feet. Fred stood just behind Dr. Halsey, in case she fell.

"Yes, much better." Keen Sacrifice was pacing them easily; looking over the side, Kelly estimated that they were moving at least twice as fast as she could run; nearly 120 KPH. The wind should have been whistling over the deck, possibly lifting the two unarmored humans from their feet, but there appeared to be an invisible barrier just in front of Dr. Halsey that deflected it.

The machine touched down on the control panel and whirred softly. "Very good, very good," it muttered, turning its eye on the horizon. "We should be there within one of your hours."

"How far is it?" Fred asked.

"In your terms, nearly one hundred and fifty kilometers."

"What will we find there?" Dr. Halsey asked, tapping the left control stick to lift them slightly farther up off the ground to clear a field of boulders.

"All that you require to survive until you can repair the ship that will take us from here," the ancilla replied.

"You're going to come with us?" Fred asked, surprised.

"Of course," the machine said. "You are my charges. I have undertaken your safety and guidance; it would be irresponsible of me to send you back to the Covenant without my advice."

"What about this world? Aren't you supposed to guide other things that come here?"

"Oh, well, I will create another to watch for the next group, just as I was created by 956 Ardent Sacrifice."

"Where did Ardent Sacrifice go?" Dr. Halsey asked.

"With the last group. They, too, were determined to return to your world, though why children should want to return to war is beyond me." The machine's eye looked critically at Tom and Lucy, who stared back.

"What children?" Chief Mendez asked quickly.

The machine hummed. "Well, I do not know. 956 Ardent Sacrifice left with them before I was quite complete. My attempts to communicate with 956 – or any other of my predecessors – has failed, however, which means they are likely dead."

Tom, Lucy, and Chief Mendez shared a glance that Fred, Kelly, and Linda couldn't read. Dr. Halsey was silent, staring forward as the landscape flashed by through the beams of the headlights.

The rest of the hour passed quickly; Dr. Halsey showed Fred how to work the controls and then sat with her back against the control panel to write about their experience since her last log on her laptop.

Keen Sacrifice told them to slow as the grass in the beams of light began to give way to what looked like cement; Dr. Halsey woke as Fred obligingly throttled back on the joystick, having dozed off in the middle of her report. She quickly saved it and stood, shouldering her pack.

They glided slowly into what was clearly as street, with two- and three-story buildings on either side. Other streets broke off occasionally, but Keen Sacrifice led them straight to the heart of the city. Dawn was pinking in the arbitrarily-designated "east" as Fred halted before the building the ancilla indicated, and they all disembarked.

The Spartans warily spread out, leaving Linda with the sled to watch the quiet city as they followed the machine into the depths of the building, the only light coming from Keen Sacrifice's eye and, slowly, the windows in the ceiling, nearly thirty feet above their heads.

"Welcome to Building 0571," Keen Sacrifice announced as the group strode into an even larger chamber; this was lit by several panels of soft light, which made the room look oddly flat except where several machines – clearly ships by the designs, though the closest ones were much smaller than even a Pelican – rested. Dr. Halsey ran her hands over the closest one, which resembled an enclosed automobile with sleek lines and no obvious hatch, weaponry, or antennae.

"Will one of these carry us out of here?" she asked the ancilla.

Keen Sacrifice tittered. "Oh, yes, once they have been repaired. You may choose whichever you like; they are all in need of repair. If I might make a suggestion, though…" He drew them further into the room. "This may be the easiest to repair, and it will certainly fit you more comfortably."

Dr. Halsey walked around the Pelican; it had a few scorch marks and its rear hatch had been torn off, but it was clearly in the best shape of all the ships in the bay. "How did a Pelican get here?" she asked.

"We collect the trash of battles often," Keen Sacrifice said. "The organic matter is burned for fuel; the inorganic matter is devoted to repairing what time would claim or stored against future need."

Fred frowned slightly. "You gather our dead?" he asked.

Keen Sacrifice descended to hover around his head. "Indeed. Otherwise, they would just drift endlessly, or burn up in another planet's atmosphere, uselessly."

"So you have things that go out of the Dyson sphere and come back inside?"

"Oh, regularly," Keen Sacrifice chirped. "But I would not recommend it; our crews are not organic. It is a difficult transition if undertaken so many times – the time difference, you know."

Dr. Halsey shook her head. "We don't know," she corrected.

"But surely you know of the dilation effect of Slipspace," the ancilla said. "The "Dyson sphere," as you called it, magnifies these effects."

"So... How long have we been here?" Fred asked carefully.

"In the sphere, three of your days have passed – to be exact, 75 of your hours – while the outside worlds have moved along at a rate almost five times as quickly, relatively speaking, so fifteen days have passed outside."

They all looked at Dr. Halsey, who scowled slightly. Muttering to herself, she thoughtfully pulled out her laptop and leaned against the Pelican to write.

"How long will this take to repair?" Fred asked, circling the ship quickly. On the surface, the Pelican had clearly been hit by the edge of a plasma beam, which had torn up part of its stubby wings. The loss of the back hatch was puzzling; it looked like it had been torn from its hinges, which would have required a lot of work.

"With your strength and my brains, it should take no longer than a full thirty of yours days, barring any incidents. Though I suppose you require sleep, being organic, so it will take longer – possibly fifty days, all told."

"Which will be 250 days in the outside world." Fred frowned. "That's too long to be gone."

"We could always toss you in an egg and send you that way," the ancilla said dryly. "The survival rate is 0.5%, if you'd like to try."

Fred shook his head. "We'll have to take it. We'll need supplies, too – food, water, recharging stations for our armor, and a place where we can sleep."

"All will be provided," Keen Sacrifice promised, trilling softly. "You may find quarters anywhere in the city; it is quite empty, and there is no danger of attacks here. But you may want to stay closer, to reduce transportation time."

"And showers," Dr. Halsey added, glancing up from her laptop.

"Of course. I think you will find the quarters in the back of this building suitable, if you will follow me. And you can call in the guard you left at the front door. Like I said, this is a perfectly secure area."

Fred called Linda in over the comm and they followed the machine back through a long hallway. It branched off into two wings, both dark until the humans stepped into them. "Choose any room you like," Keen Sacrifice told them, disappearing into an overhead vent. They could hear it humming away as it left them to find accommodations.

Dr. Halsey turned to her left and chose the second door in, opening it carefully and peering in; the door was clearly human in design, with a single doorknob, and the furniture beyond it was the same. It was comfortable-looking but certainly not luxurious, and everything was the same off-white as the walls. She stepped in, feeling particularly unclean in such an environment. The main room contained a soft armchair, an extra-tall twin-sized bed, a table with three simple metal chairs around it, a small kitchen area, and a pair of doors. The door on the right wall led to a simple yet clean bathroom and the one to the left opened into a closet, stocked with clothing that was too large but seemed to be pliable and clearly made to human standards.

She stripped quickly and stepped into the shower without bothering to unpack her stuff; the shower felt wonderful as the warm water made the doctor feel clean for the first time in several days. She scrubbed her hair, lacking shampoo, and then stepped out and looked around for towels.

A pleasantly warm draft wafted up from the floorboards, so Dr. Halsey gave up the search for a towel and stood there to let herself air-dry, which was accomplished very quickly. Ignoring her dirty clothing, she crossed to the closet and, out of curiosity, pulled on a pair of the too-large pants and shirt, both a light grey. They conformed to her skin once the fabric touched the heat of her skin; it was pleasantly tight but not constricting.

"Ma'am?" Fred tapped at her door; she opened it to admit him. He, too, was clean and freshly shaved, looking much more alert and relaxed than he had since she had first greeted him on Onyx. He had removed his armor in favor of the light grey clothing that was apparently meant to stretch as well; it clung to him like a second skin.

"Come in, Fred," she said warmly, stepping back; he glanced around her room and took a seat on the chair carefully. It took his weight without complaint and he sat rim-rod straight. The others arrived shortly afterward, perching on chairs and the bed – or the floor, in Lucy's case – and they gathered to talk about their change in quarters.

"It will take fifty days, Keen Sacrifice says, to repair the Pelican. I would like to test-fly it at least once before we trust it to carry us out of Slipspace bubble, too," Fred started.

"That's 250 days in the real world," Linda commented quietly. "The war could be over by then."

"It could already be over," Dr. Halsey pointed out. "Our duty is to get back as quickly as possible."

They nodded. "Doctor, will you want to help with the repairs or survey the city?" Fred asked.

"I won't be much help on the Pelican," the woman assured him quickly. "You all know how to fix everything but the hardest problems – and I'm sure Keen Sacrifice will be helping you. I'd rather explore the city."

"You should take a guard. Chief." Mendez looked at Fred and nodded, though there was a surly light to his eyes. Being alone with the doctor meant she would probably continue to complain about being left out of the Spartan-III project. However, he wasn't strong enough to keep up with the Spartans if they were lifting heavy machinery and plates onto the Pelican. "We'll work by teams – Linda, Tom, and Lucy will have the day shift; Kelly and I will take the night shift." Having the two IIIs together would help them; they tended to get much more spazzy if separated, Fred had noted. Kelly wasn't the best choice to pair with them; Linda's quiet and competent air would help the pair steady themselves, hopefully.

"For now, eat and sleep. We'll need steady hands for the repair work."

They nodded and filed out of Dr. Haley's room. Fred and Kelly had taken the two rooms closest to the branching hallway, the better to hear and intercept intruders. Tom and Lucy had taken rooms on Halsey's side of the hallway, which Mendez and Linda were on Kelly's.

Fred entered his room and crossed to the kitchen quickly. Rooting through the cupboards ended with a very satisfying dinner of roast chicken and vegetables, so the label said, with a cup of crisp, cool water to finish off. The food sat warmly in his stomach as he went to the bed, eyelids already drooping. The lack of noise, the secure feeling of the room, and Keen's promise of safety made him more willing to sleep deeply, restoring his exhausted reserves of strength.

He sunk into the bed once he had stripped and folded his clothes neatly on the bed-side stand. The pad was thick and soft, and the temperature was warm enough to require only a thin blanket like in training camp. He pulled the blanket to his chin and tucked his hands beneath his head, looking at the ceiling. As if understanding that he was going to sleep, the room's light panel in the ceiling dimmed until Fred's night-adjusted eyes could just make out the shadowy edges of furniture.

Down the hallway, Lucy prodded her bed carefully and then sat on the edge. She had made a dinner of the ready-to-eat sliced turkey, with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy, and was ready to sleep now. She looked around the room – bigger than she was used to, and such a shade of white… She sighed quietly to herself and stood, crossing to the door.

Tom had expected her; his door stood open slightly, inviting his sister in; she closed it softly behind herself. The room was an exact duplicate of hers, except for the aroma – Tom had clearly chosen the soup option on the menu. He was still eating when she came in and offered her a seat, but she shook her head and sat opposite to him.

"At least we'll be getting back fairly soon – better than sitting around and doing nothing," Tom said quietly. Lucy nodded. She wasn't sure what their reception would be, though; the IIs – and Dr. Halsey – clearly thought the two IIIs were too twitchy to trust. "They're just not used to us," Tom assured her, reading her mind again. She smiled slightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Once we're back, we'll be either thrown into the war or there won't be any humanity left to fight for."

Lucy looked down at her small hands; the possibility of total extinction was very high, she knew. What would happen if they went back only to find that Earth, the last bastion of human defenses, had been burnt to a cinder? Would Keen Sacrifice bring them back here, to live out their days in comfort? She distrusted comfort; comfort meant there wasn't a battle, meant that she – and her fellow Spartan IIIs – were useless. Being useless wasn't the way Lucy lived her life, what there was of it.

"Since we're all alone for the first time in a while, what do you think of the IIs?" Tom asked her, calling her attention back to the present. She shrugged; they were stand-offish but obviously excellent warriors. They had the same sort of team coordination the IIIs did, only more personalized. They were also hackles-up about the III program; Kelly-087 was especially unforgiving of the III's twitchiness. It had been too long since their last medication dose; Lucy could almost feel her basic impulses to hunt and kill coming back, like they did before they went into battle. That's how you knew a mission was coming; the medication stopped a day or two before.

"Kurt would have known what to do," Tom sighed. They both missed their commander – after the wreck that had left them the only two of their groups alive, he had saved Lucy from psychological discharge, and paired her with Tom to be his right hand staff. He would have known how to explain the Spartan III program, and what it entailed – less stringent selection, Lucy knew, with more aggressive augmentation and training. The IIs hadn't seen battle until fourteen; Lucy had been destroying a Covenant ship-building facility at twelve. There were – had been – many more IIIs, with plans to expand the program. ONI wanted a hundred thousand IIIs within twenty years, if humanity lasted that long.

As it was, Dr. Halsey's apparent mothering of the IIs – they deferred to her almost as a commander – was being extended to the IIIs. Lucy wasn't sure she liked the doctor; the older woman had been responsible for Kurt's training, but she was clearly of the opinion that safety lay in running. Lucy couldn't condone what she had done, after Kelly had revealed that Dr. Halsey had kidnapped the II to get her to safety. She couldn't even understand it. Kelly was obviously a soldier – she had been born and raised to the life, as had any Spartan, and wouldn't thank anyone from removing her from the front lines. Neither would Lucy, for that matter.

Being unable to speak didn't mean she couldn't fight. Lucy had tried to speak, but it simply didn't come; the words wouldn't get past her throat. Her last words had been to Tom. He remembered them clearly, but at least he didn't look at her with some sort of mingled pity and contempt, as so many others did. There was more pity in Dr. Halsey's gaze, and the contempt was for the program, not Lucy herself.

"Well, let's get some shut-eye while we can," Tom said, placing his dishes in the side of an open drawer; it retreated into the wall.

Lucy lay facing the wall, Tom's back to hers. It was their usual arrangement. Many of the trainers back on Onyx – Lucy forced down a deep feeling of loss – hadn't understood and had made many rude comments after learning that the two IIIs shared a bunk. They never did so in front of Kurt, of course, nor often Lucy or Tom themselves, but their supposed knowledge made them feel superior to the younger Spartans.

It wasn't just that Lucy wanted Tom's company, either; the comfort with taken and given mutually. Tom had nightmares without Lucy's presence behind him, while Lucy would lay awake and stare at the ceiling all night without his.

Lucy drifted into sleep quickly as the lights dimmed to a comfortable glow. Tom's soft breathing behind her made her almost think they were back on Onyx, sleeping in the room off of Kurt's, so he could summon them quickly. The echo of the larger space around them, however, shattered that quiet belief; their breathing died in the room instead of echoing back on the walls as the pair fell into a deeper slumber than they had managed recently.