Chapter Text
May 31st, 2560
24 hours had officially passed since the Master Chief and the Weapon went missing.
Esparza dropped them off, then spent some time hiding near the area. Because, as he pointed out to the Arbiter when pressed, the Chief didn't specify when their role in the mission would be over. A pilot would still be needed to bring the Chief back to the ship. To his credit, the Arbiter accepted that before Esparza could bring out every argument he packaged in his back pocket.
Not too long after they entered, the Chief's beacon disappeared. Straight up out of existence. Neither was there any sign of the Weapon anywhere - at least, not any sign that an average guy like him could pick up. But surely someone clever like the Weapon would already know that and find some way to make herself obvious, so...
There was little explanation of what it could mean. It didn't have to mean that they were dead, but... It was too weird to not be anything concerning.
Could it mean that the Harbinger won their confrontation? Was that terrible thing warranting a potential plasma bombardment about to happen? How irresponsible of them would it be to keep waiting and see?
Esparza waited for when the Arbiter would inevitably tell him to pack it up and get to the main ship while ordering his men to fire. They lived in the ship in near-silence, only broken by warnings to move out of the way of incoming Banished and inquiries if anything had changed; at one point, after about the seventh hour, the Arbiter insisted on doing a quick check on Esparza's physical condition, then insisted on further checks on a periodic, routine basis.
Given what it'd mean to order the Silent Auditorium destroyed, Esparza could see why the Arbiter was giving it some time before officially writing them off as goners. If it turned out the beacon going out wasn't anything to worry about...
"Pilot," the Arbiter finally said, as that twenty-fourth hour neared, and it was clear that the generosity had run out. "We should return to the main ship now."
"No," Esparza protested, mustering up a surprising amount of conviction against an alien more than twice his size and of the same species as one of his recent torturers. "If I can find him after months of drifting in space, I can find him now. Nothing's happening that suggests the Harbinger is up to something, either. Just give me a little more time." More for himself, he added: "It's not ending like this."
He hadn't meant the Arbiter to hear that part, more like thinking out loud, yet he responded anyway, "Before we continue this debate, I believe I should clarify. We are still waiting for him to reappear. But we ourselves will be at risk if we continue to wait like this. I propose retreating for now, and return once we know where he is. It is quite possible we are waiting at the wrong spot."
Esparza mulled that point over for a moment. "They wouldn't just leave us out to dry like that, right? Not without trying to leave a message?"
"You would be surprised." The Arbiter's mandibles clacked quickly, bringing to mind a human clearing their throat with how quickly he pivoted to saying, "Perhaps not on purpose have they ended up elsewhere. Regardless of what is going on, we cannot rely on staying hidden from the Banished forever, and neither can you push yourself further without medical attention. If he continues to be missing by the time your health is cleared, I promise you will be allowed a part in the search."
"I thought you told Chief-"
"I remember his exact words well. 'And if I can't, and you notice something is happening.' Do you notice anything amiss to suggest the Silent Auditorium and this unseen Harbinger has become a threat?"
"No..."
"Then for now, his proposal is unnecessary. For all we know, the Harbinger is dead and he became too busy with another matter to inform us. He may have a habit of disappearing... But so far, he has always returned. Yet patience is still required. As much as it seems the opposite, I am insisting that returning to the ship and resting is that patience."
The Arbiter didn't say it, but Esparza knew he had also already proven that point - that no matter how much time passed, the Chief could be found in the strangest of places. If anything, that pattern was improving since his worst disappearance at the war's end.
"One condition," Esparza still insisted. "We have no idea what happened to that beacon. If the Chief even still has it. The moment I'm cleared, I'm patrolling."
A snort came out of the Arbiter before Esparza was even done speaking, but before he could additionally comment on it, the Arbiter replied, "I will accept that deal, too."
With how many hours had passed and how tired Esparza was becoming, he had forgotten the Arbiter's meaning - that humans, two in particular, were insistent on continually bartering deals with him. But rather than question it, Esparza instead took advantage of the cooperation before it could be taken back and followed the Arbiter's directions to the correct ship in the sky.
Knowing the UNSC was allied with the Arbiter's forces did little for Esparza's nerves as they approached. For months, he'd been fighting aliens of the same species, and his instincts were finding it difficult to notice the difference at first. An alien voice spoke over his radio, asking harshly in English for an identity and purpose, but the Arbiter quickly calmed the officer in their language. By the time they docked inside and opened the doors, the reception to their arrival felt nearly the same as if Esparza was releasing the Master Chief into a UNSC base, with the exception of the soldiers here not being so direly in need of a morale booster. No, this was business as usual for them, and they continued on their business after any customary acknowledgement of the Arbiter's presence was concluded.
One soldier continued to converse with the Arbiter, though, clearly on request. After they were done speaking in the alien tongue, the Arbiter turned to Esparza and spoke in English, "This one has been briefed and will escort you to a medic. Enough time has passed that I must receive reports from my commanders and shipmasters. I will return shortly. Do not worry, I have ensured that our medics know enough of human language to do their job."
Hesitantly, Esparza followed the soldier and watched the Arbiter disappear into a different hallway. The Arbiter had done a lot to make Esparza comfortable in his presence despite all the horrors he'd witnessed and faced done by Banished Sangheili, yet it didn't immediately extend to his subordinates. It was a bit illogical, but part of the problem was how these aliens compared to the Arbiter's behavior up to that point. He'd been polite and understanding. No, even beyond that... For some reason, even though they just met, it felt like the Arbiter already showed him care. Seeing his dynamic with the Chief, even briefly, also helped. Meanwhile, all his men were clearly only accommodating Esparza under orders. Again, it felt weird to compare it to the Arbiter's odd friendliness, but even though no one around here was expressing sadism and genocidal intent, being aware they were merely indifferent towards him wasn't conducive to making him comfortable in this situation.
The medic was marginally an improvement; but after seeing some of the other patients - or rather, constantly overhearing them - Esparza figured it was more that the medics were glad to have someone fully cooperate with them. In a short time, Esparza had even more alien trivia to file away for storytime: Sangheili were terrible patients. Even the calmest, most compliant ones were still always grumbling and questioning the medics' every statement. And if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn that the foreign expressions some of them made when it came to blood and cutting were... squeamish?
"Loyalty to the Arbiter has not fully rid them of old habits," the medic tending to him said, after noticing how much he was staring at one patient in particular, who kept flinching despite trying to remain stone frozen. "They are all still part of the generations raised from birth to fear the spilling of their own blood off the battlefield. We usually let them air out their grievances, however loudly, and that will usually help them calm down enough to proceed."
Like tantruming toddlers, Esparza couldn't help but think. My god. The deadly aliens that brought humanity to the brink and nearly tortured me to death act like Iahlee did when it was time for shots.
At that thought, Esparza was immediately sobered. That's what thinking about your child in the past tense does to a man.
By the time the Arbiter suddenly appeared, Esparza was still in that depressive trance, replaying every memory of Iahlee's doctor visits all the way back to the moment she was born. The Arbiter's voice broke him out of it, but it was clear from the words that Esparza must've looked like he was still worried about the Chief and the Weapon.
"Patrols are already underway to find them," the Arbiter said. "And every soldier has been notified to be on the lookout. The moment he is spotted, he will be extracted and brought here."
"As for the Banished..." he continued, as if realizing a drop of good news was also in order. "They are crumbling. Escharum's demise was already a devastation to their ranks, but our reinforcements are turning that wound into a death spiral. Without an opportunity to formally arrange Escharum's successor, their forces have started to form divisions. They cannot mount a unified defense against us, and with their personalities, I doubt they will be able to before their downfall becomes apparent."
"So it isn't just Cortana," Esparza replied. "The Banished will be gone, too?"
Even before the Arbiter next spoke, following a beat of deliberation, Esparza could tell from the scrunching in his scales that things weren't that hopeful. "This branch of the Banished, yes. However, a majority of the Banished are continuing their usual operations all around the galaxy. Atriox was smart enough to appoint someone to lead them in his absence, and that one has been giving us a bit of trouble these last months. News of Atriox and Escharum's deaths, as well as the Banished's defeat in the battle for this ring, may yet demoralize them and weaken their alliance, but it will be some time yet before we can say something as relieving as 'the Banished are gone'.
"And Cortana..." No! "She is indeed gone," Phew... "But not her Created." Dammit. "Other AIs have attempted to keep her tyrannical plans going. That front... that is a tomb of demons that cannot be unopened."
"Right. They openly betrayed the UNSC and humanity. They helped kill so many people..." The words trailed off into a faint sigh; best not to ruminate too much on that.
It helped that the adrenaline coming down finally reintroduced pain into his system, making it hard to think of anything else.
Yes. Despite where he was now, things didn't feel "over" until the Arbiter voiced as much. People were looking for Chief and the Weapon. The Banished were falling to their knees. The wars that had taken over the galaxy the last few years were finally, seemingly, winding down. They hadn't yet reached the finish line, but it was now in sight, and just that sight was signaling to Esparza's body that it was time to prepare for rest.
Or, rather, to go ahead and have it now, since he wasn't needed anymore for the marathon. The ones who would actually win it, he'd helped bring as far as he could with his lesser capability. In spite of it.
At a cost.
"I am genuinely surprised with what I saw," the medic said, triggered by the sight of Esparza's suffering to get things back to medical affairs. "I cannot fathom the Banished were holding back, so perhaps you reached him quicker than first thought, because his injuries are not to expectation. I could only find some fractured ribs, internal bruising, and a partially collapsed lung that I was already able to treat. He may continue to feel pain and difficulty with breathing for the time being, but that is because the remainder of healing must rely on his body resting."
"That is good news," the Arbiter replied. "A room has already been prepared that should be adequate enough for that rest."
Which was really underselling it, as a quick personal escort by the Arbiter revealed it to be his own state suite.
"Wait-" Esparza balked. The fact it was in such a fancy hallway, with a door guarded heavier than most others on the ship, already clued him in that this was an important space. But once the Arbiter translated the label on the door, and opened it to clearly a VIP master bedroom... "Your room? You're just giving it to me?!"
"Yes," the Arbiter responded - and although his tone sounded nearly as even as his usual manner of speech, he was clearly holding back amusement this time. "Is there an issue with it?"
"How about the fact that it's yours?!"
"Therefore, I know it to be the softest bed on the ship, and the best for your recovery." He stretched out an arm, gesturing for Esparza to go inside. "I will be too busy leading the remainder of the battle to use it, so it is fine for you to have it for the time being."
Only due to weariness of the guards nearby did Esparza follow the silent instruction, but he wasn't yet done with his freak-out over the turn of events. He stepped halfway into the room, turned to wave the Arbiter to follow inside, only to see the Sangheili already doing so. Either there was more to be discussed, or he knew well that Esparza wasn't finished with him.
"And I'm sure there's other beds around that are half as soft but just as good," he said, "that will also be empty during the fighting. Why this one?"
Some of what Esparza assumed was amusement slid away from the Arbiter's expression, but neither did he yet look terrifyingly grim. "Even so, this is the best arrangement for you. The men on this ship will constantly be moving around as the battle goes on. And... I know for the last several months, maybe even longer, your experience with my species has been hostile. The injuries you are recovering from were inflicted by one of my species, even if I am loath to claim him. It would not do for you to become stressed by the Sangheili around you as you heal. Any other bed I can offer you, you will constantly be in the presence of at least one Sangheili at all times. But here, you can have peace."
Peace. At the sound of the word, Esparza couldn't help but relax, even as his mind was still sensing a hole in the explanation. Disregarding the alien design of the room and furniture, he really could pretend that he wasn't on an alien ship surrounded by those that shared the features of his tormentors. And it was true - it really did seem, at a glance, like the softest bed Esparza would ever encounter in his life. He'd gone through Hell, but if he knew this was the prize at the end of the tunnel, he would've gone through it all again.
Yet still, in the back of his mind... Why is he being so nice to me specifically?
"I doubt you do this for all your human guests," he said. "Maybe not even the high-ranking VIPs."
He didn't voice it as a question, but the Arbiter got the hint. "You are correct. This is a rare generosity from me. It..." He paused, broke eye contact with him, and gazed, somehow instinctively, in the direction that the surface of Zeta Halo would be in. "My actions are more for his benefit. He wanted you well taken care of, and so I shall use all in my power."
"Because of the 'complicated relationship'?" Not like humans wouldn't go above and beyond to please the Master Chief in any request, but... That was humanity. This was the Arbiter.
Too long of a beat of silence passed as the Arbiter continued to stare off, then glance back at Esparza. It reminded him of the Chief's quiet stares that'd sometimes pop up in conversation, when either he needed time to think of the verbal response or that the silent stare was the response in full. The only difference was the lack of visor obscuring the Arbiter's face, his eyes, but it also might as well be there - not like Esparza was skilled enough to read the alien expressions, especially as they veered away from the realm of aggression and cruelty.
The silence continued, but a change did occur. The Arbiter stopped standing in place and moved towards the bed, sitting upon it and relaxing his body. There was no gesture for Esparza to sit next to him; which he appreciated, as he wasn't yet there to being comfortable enough with the prospect.
"Sangheili and humans, as I have learned over the years, have very different relationship structures," the Arbiter began, and now Esparza was getting a better picture of why he needed the time and change of position for this response. "Mating. Breeding. Courting. Marriage. For the Sangheili, they are not inherently linked like for humans. Having multiple partners, occupying different purposes in your life, is what is normal to us. The human concept of 'cheating'... To a Sangheili, that mindset would usually register as possessive, a toxic trait in our culture. In some cases, what humans would call a 'partner' does not even register as applicable. We do not have as many discomforts regarding casual intimacy with one another, hence why this situation of me offering my bed for your use is only a 'big deal' in the context of a high commander and an allied, alien pilot. And the way we feel when we do have deeper intimacy... It can be defined differently than how humans would put it."
"So this applies to me because...?" Esparza pressed.
"Through him." His tone went wistful as the beginnings of a monologue formed. "The one you call the Master Chief used to be my most hated enemy, yet even back then - even when he incited my downfall as a Supreme Commander - I felt respect for a foe that could best me so. When it came time to rebuild my identity during the Great Schism, he became my model. Those opportunities where I could fight at his side were... Illuminating. Exhilarating. The last time a fellow soldier made me feel that way... I did not make the best choices then. He is, by my own hand, no longer around. And I... only repeated those mistakes."
His shoulders rolled, fighting off the depths of whatever those words could mean. "I decided to keep my feelings of admiration secret. Though I knew little about human culture, I already was theorizing the differences. And that even if we were the same, admiration from one of my past might not be welcome. But when the Ark was destroyed, when I came back to Earth alone, when he went missing for years with uncertainty of survival... Regret struck me. I came to realize that bottling up a feeling, keeping it unspoken, hurt worse than rejection. Then came the talk of his return, but by then I was not free to move and meet him. I had duties that tied me to the territories of the Sangheili, and the Master Chief had more duties than just getting involved with the UNSC's alliances. So when the stars finally aligned and he arrived on Sanghelios at the dawn of the Created's rise, and we found ourselves with a bit of time in between plans of action... I took the time to explain these feelings, what Sangheili would usually do about them. I did not think he would have interest in them, that was not entirely my intent in sharing, but... I was surprised at his willingness to explore."
After a flexing of mandibles, the conclusion came. "Anything further may not be my place to tell."
Just saying that could cause any human's brain-gears to churn. What did that mean? What did any of that mean? The Arbiter laid bare so much of his culture and personal life, but even then, Esparza's mind was clinging to what the same situation would mean between two humans. He thought maybe that was the wrong conclusion, based on all the emphasis on "differences", but... What else could he think of but that?
"So you're... lovers??"
"I would not say that," the Arbiter answered, a bit quickly but not entirely defensively. It was likely he was already prepared for this question. "We are battle-brothers, and friends, and allies, and... We simply do what is needed for the other, however that takes shape. There are Sangheili words for it that I find have no English translation, or a possible substitute still conveys an incorrect concept, so I apologize if it is still unclear."
At that mention, things started to finally click for Esparza. Maybe not any specific answers, but at least the feeling of "sometimes cultures have their own unique experiences that get their own unique words that no other language can properly convey". Goodness knows anyone living around an area with a language co-dominate with English knew the feeling.
Now for the part where it looped back around to Esparza. "And because your... Because he wants me taken care of, you're doing that? Even though you don't even know me? Didn't even meet me before pulling me out of that mess? Give a man you don't know the name of your bed?"
A snort came out of the Arbiter. "That is more common in Sangheili culture than you think." Then, after a brief reset of tone, he continued, "But yes. And if it would help... You could tell me your name."
Esparza could only stare back.
June 3rd, 2560
Genuinely, John had not been planning on dying in the Silent Auditorium. He may have considered the possibility, gave Thel a contingency plan for if he did, but he'd been truly confident in his own ability to defeat the Harbinger with only the Weapon's support. He'd been right.
What he never could have anticipated was being displaced in time by three days and brought back falling in the sky. If Thel and the Pilot insisted on it, he'd apologize for any grief that development caused. Although it wasn't like he'd done it on purpose. Nor was it unusual for him.
Thankfully, every allied ship was watching their maps like hawks for any sign of his beacon, so it didn't take long for a Phantom to pick him up. John wasn't going to fight the rest orders anymore - and not just because he knew it was useless to fight Thel on it further. Despite the revelations of the Silent Auditorium, now was a safe time for a breather.
And, before the Pilot had jumped him for a hug, he already figured he needed to reassure him and Thel of his condition.
Prior to that happy reunion, though, he had to endure a debriefing, where both sides were finally able to catch each other up on important matters. Thel told him of the Banished's activities off-Ring, being led by a vengeful War Chief named Severan, and the Created's continued hostilities under splintered leadership that lost access to the Guardians; for every figurehead they felled, another took their place, the inferiority to predecessors doing nothing to cease conflict's eternal life. Meanwhile, John filled them all in on not just the timeline of the Battle of Zeta Halo (at least, all the pieces he put together via audio logs and conversations), but the discoveries of the Silent Auditorium: the Harbinger was of a species the Forerunners fearfully quarantined on this Ring, called the Endless, and her final moments were spent sending a message to an unknown recipient.
Only briefly did they discuss plans on next moves: quashing the remaining Banished, locating other UNSC survivors and hopefully the <i>Infinity</i> herself, and discovering where the Harbinger's message was sent. With the debriefings having already taken up a sizable amount of meeting time, Thel cut off any in-depth planning.
As Thel led him to what clearly was the head honcho quarters, John had to lift a brow under his visor. Especially because the start of this little journey had been him asking about the Pilot's status. So far, John hadn't seen him nor heard of him, beyond assurance that he was being taken care of.
"Thel," he said, the first he uttered the Arbiter's name since leaving Sanghelios almost two years ago. "What-"
"I assure you," Thel said, "You will see Esparza."
"Who?" the Weapon asked - and John couldn't tell if Thel was ignoring her or if she hadn't even made herself audible to him. It took John some moments of thinking, but then it finally clicked for him. It all did.
When John walked into the bedroom, the man of the hour was sitting up on the massive bed, fidgeting. The moment the door had activated, his head snapped like an owl's. John had just finished his final step when the man launched himself, hugging Mjolnir armor in a way that could mislead an onlooker on how comfortable the sensory experience was.
Stepping back, he said, "Sorry. I'm really happy to see you. Really happy." A smile full of joy and relief broke out wide as he continued taking in John's presence in front of him.
Then John felt a tug in the back of his head, his response being to hold up his hand so that the Weapon could display her hologram in his palm.
"Oh, wait, I get it!" she exclaimed. "His name is Esparza!"
"Oh, did he tell you already?" Esparza asked, briefly glancing at Thel. Thel had, by then, closed the door and watched them, pleased, from a respectful distance.
"Just the Esparza part. What's your full name?"
"Fernando Esparza." He gave a glance at John. "He accidentally let a 'John' slip out earlier." Then he looked at the Weapon. "So now it's your turn. What do we call you?"
The Weapon looked away, putting her hands behind her back.
"Any ideas?" John nudged.
"Well... Do you think it would be okay?"
John could hear that unspoken "I wasn't exactly meant to last this long" in her tone. Her life was meant to be brief, the fear of her becoming a second Tyrant Cortana that great. But Cortana herself had ensured the Weapon's place in the galaxy.
And if she was going to take advantage of that gift, she was going to need a proper name now.
So he nodded.
"You're sure?"
"You get to choose your name."
"Then... I think..." Her gaze returned to the eager Esparza. "I think I might have the perfect one."
When she kept them in suspense, Esparza spoke up. "Go on..."
"It's Steve."
His face fell into disappointment the moment his singular eye blink of processing was completed. John fought back a snort and peeked out of the periphery of his visor towards Thel. Thel's expression had changed very little, with John assuming he still lacked enough context to understand Steve's comedic genius.
"Steve?" Esparza finally echoed. "Are you serious?" When she kept staring up at him with a grin, he looked at John. "Of all the random names... Chief, come on, are you hearing this?"
Shrugging, John said, "I like it."
Esparza then turned to seek support from Thel, who looked innocently as he asked, "What is wrong with Steve?"
John genuinely couldn't tell if Thel was playing along with the bit or genuinely confused.
"Nothing much," Steve said, flashing Thel a grin while surely knowing he definitely wouldn't get that joke. Then she burst into laughter, addressing Esparza again in between the giggles. "You should see your face."
"Ha-ha," Esparza replied, his face briefly falling even further before he gradually grew to enjoy the prank. "You got me. Very funny."
"Oh, trust me, it was."
As they had their exchange, John stole another glance towards Thel, perceiving the slightest change in his features as he, too, found entertainment in watching over the two. For a moment, John considered the possible rudeness they were displaying by not involving him in the conversation more. But John knew Thel had put himself in this position on purpose. Although this was his own bedroom (for some reason, probably alien to them, this was taking place in his own bedroom), this moment was for the trio to enjoy.
"Did you decide?" John asked, returning his focus on the other two and deciding, internally, that they should still hurry this moment along.
"Mmm. I did." Straightening her shoulders, the former-Steve introduced herself for real as: "I'm UNSC AI Serial Number CTN 0453-0. Name designation: Joyeuse."
With a wink, Esparza responded, "Hmm. Not as good as Steve, but... I like it."
When Joyeuse signalled she wanted a reaction from John, he also added, "I like it too. It suits you."
She smiled. "Thanks."
"Joyeuse..." Thel spoke up, tone in contemplation. "I have never heard that name before. What is its significance?"
"Well, it means good-natured, with a really amazing personality. Describes me pretty well, don't you think?" Joyeuse explained, her joyous disposition as she did showing how quickly comfortable she'd grown with Thel.
That's good, the thought coming so quickly in John's head that he failed to quiet the deeper meaning behind it: the relief that the people most important to him were getting along.
"It does," Thel answered with a purr, no one bothering to bring up that this was his overall fourth or fifth conversation with her, depending on if one counted the debriefing as one.
"I think you're right then," Esparza added. "It is perfect."
"Precisely," Joyeuse said, basking in all the praise. And she deserved to.
"You know, my wife loved unique names too," Esparza started. "When we chose our daughter's name, Iahlee, oh man, it took forever. Nothing felt right."
"So how did you choose?" At the same time as Joyeuse's question, John was latching onto the words in another way.
He'd already known Esparza had a family. Jega 'Rdonmai had used a holographic message of them, likely taken from Esparza's person, to taunt them during their fight. Even if he hadn't known specifically, that was always the reality: people had families. They had people they had to get back to. Seeing the mother and daughter made Esparza's desperation during the Battle of Zeta Halo make even more sense than base survival instinct.
When this was all over - when they could get off this Ring and all go back to their rightful places - Esparza would be returning to where that family was.
That's how it was with every passing name and face John encountered on battlefields. Even Thel, who had bonded to him in a way John never expected for himself, had a home he needed to return to - a place John could not follow.
He was used to this.
He had to remind himself that he was used to this.
"Hold on, where're you going?" Esparza's story was suddenly interrupted by him asking that; John's gaze followed to see that Thel had been in the process of walking towards the door.
But the moment he was called out, he turned and said simply, "I was going to leave the three of you to talk and rest."
"But- You're still part of this talk, you know?"
"And rest," John added. "You haven't been spending as much time as Esparza in here these last three days. I can tell."
Thel snorted in slight indignation - but mainly at the frustration he'd been caught in the same manner as he usually catches John. "You still needed to be found."
"I'm found. Now you can sleep easy." And John meant the double meaning fully.
A deep sigh came out of Thel. "Fine. Since I was so insistent on your own health, I will relent to your concern for mine."
While Thel informed others via COMMs to not expect him for the time being, Joyeuse studied the bedroom around them.
"Well I can't help but notice that there's only one bed here," she said.
"I know," Esparza said. He sounded a little exasperated, but John felt a little comradery in that complicated tone. He had, not too long ago, been the rookie to the Sangheili's customs - which were different, but not unpleasantly so once you threw away human cultural bias and got used to it. "I've gotten the Sangheili culture lesson. And you know what? This bed's just too damn comfortable to give a shit over that."
John had to wonder just what had happened in the last three days. He may’ve had his own experience, but given Thel had just met Esparza... surely it couldn't have been the same experience? Or did he have more to learn about Sangheili - and Thel - than he thought?
A glance towards Thel revealed a look in his eyes, with John instinctively knowing that something was up. More specifically that he was up to something.
However, John's brain finally finished registering the part in Esparza's statement about a comfortable bed, bringing forth memories of the last time he felt how comfortable a Sangheili nobleman's bed could be. It was less exhaustion and a need for comfort that made him decide to go with the flow, but more the reminder of how much he trusted Thel. Too much had happened between them for him to grow wary around the other now. Whatever was on Thel's mind...
Well, he usually had good ideas, so maybe this one would be no different.
Approaching the chair and desk situated close by to the bed, John sat down and began taking off as much of his armor as he could without the assistance of specialized machinery. There was no way he was getting away with sleeping in full Mjolnir - and not even John would try that, anyway. Especially when he had to be mindful of bedmates. By the time he was done, Esparza was lying in the dead center of the bed, spread out like it was the first time he came across it and was testing it out. Thel was at the other side of the room - the part with lounge seating for entertaining guests - unclasping his own armor, taking more time than John knew was needed.
The helmet came off last, John setting it on the desk so that Joyeuse could use it as a makeship projector for her small holograph. He waited, but Esparza had yet to notice a sight that few ever got to see.
John sat at the edge of the bed, still a bit unsure, and allowed a distraction to help put off making the choice to push on or retreat. "By the way, since you mentioned it, I have the hologram of your family."
He had kept it since the fight with Jega, but had gotten too caught up with everything else to immediately return it.
Esparza sat up and stretched to take the hologram from John, eyes too focused on the arm to notice anything above it, then laid back down; now propped up, he fiddled with it in his hands as he said, "Oh, yeah, thanks for that. You didn't have to hold onto it."
"Why not?" Joyeuse asked.
"Because it's not mine."
The reveal came so casually, with Esparza's eyes still on the device.
"...What??"
"It came with the Pelican," Esparza explained. "I think it belonged to the previous Echo-216."
"So why did Jega take it? And taunt us with it?" Joyeuse asked.
"Same reason you gave it back. He thought it was mine, because I've been holding onto it. It... I don't have my own, and it was similar enough to what they looked like." He tossed and caught it. "Pilot with a dead family and a family's message to a dead pilot. It just made sense at the time."
John had already honed in on the past tense used, but the final addition had confirmed it. Which meant...
There maybe wasn't a place Esparza would be returning to after Zeta Halo. At least, not an easy and comfortable choice like a wife and daughter. Maybe that's why he had been on Infinity in the first place - to escape that hole in his life.
He scooted up the bedside, finding space without bumping into Esparza thanks to how massive a bed for two Sangheili was. The movement stole Esparza's focus from the hologram. John caught his expression briefly change, brows scrunching as it took a moment for Esparza's brain to figure out what was popping out to his subconscious. Silence ensued as it continued to process for him - and then, perhaps, the words for the occasion failed to manifest.
The break in the awkward silence came when Thel, in his bodysuit (huh, so Esparza still wasn't used to a naked Sangheili then), sat on the other side of the bed. "Very pale, is he not? A Sangheili with that shade would be taken for medical care immediately."
"Yeah, you should consider a beach the next time you get shore leave," Esparza replied, latching onto the comment yet still speaking cautiously on the subject matter. "Get a tan. Get any sun."
"I think I'd just get sunburnt," John dryly said. "And the vitamins I receive are enough to compensate."
The quick look Esparza and Thel shared with each other before looking back at him made him suddenly very aware of the veins in his face.
He'd left them alone for too long. They'd bonded. Compared notes and shared too many ideas.
And just like Thel had likely told Esparza, John exited the topic by staying quiet and picking up a new task. He got in position to sleep, on his back so he had a better view of as much of the room as he could from this angle. But he held off on closing his eyes just yet.
They took the hint and followed suit. Thel gave a command with combined verbal and hand gesture motions, causing a majority of the lights to go out. One still shone brightly as a beacon towards the restroom, another illuminated the doorway. Joyeuse disappeared from the desk, taking the glow of her hologram with her. The room was calm and quiet, just as it should at bedtime.
Then Esparza's voice cut through the dark, his tone pitched. "Wait, what just happened?"
John swiftly was back at alert mode, trying to catch whatever Esparza had. Only, there were no signs of a threat.
"What is it?" Thel asked, sounding like he had a similar reaction to John.
"How the hell did I end up snug between you two in the same bed?!"
Instantly, the heat of alert mode died, the only ember remaining within John being a spark of mirth. "There's still too much room to call this 'snug'. And I thought you said you weren't giving a shit about it?"
"That was about sharing a bed with an alien," Esparza hissed. "This is a whole different level from that."
The bed shifted under his movements, although John couldn't parse what exactly Esparza was aiming to do. He didn't exit the bed. He just kept switching sleeping positions. Tossing and turning - but more frustrated than uncomfortable.
"You-! You both make me look like a kid that's crawled into his parents' bed!" he continued to bemoan.
"You got in the center first," John said.
"Well now I want out of the center!"
Thel spoke up. "I would advise against that. Out of the three of us, you are in more danger of being thrown off the edge or crushed."
His mandibles clamped around a drawn breath - a sign he decided, at the last minute, to hold off on saying something more.
Probably something along the lines of: "And in this position, we keep you safe from threats." A notion that definitely would have had Esparza in a tizzy.
"Well, the fancy couch you have is the size of a human bed," Esparza retorted back. "It's Chief's turn to share your bed. I'll test the comfort levels over there."
"We have already had that discussion. I will not be having a guest sleep on the couch when the bed is still perfectly adequate. And as you have already said, you have gotten used to sharing without it being 'weird'."
The backdrop of Esparza and Thel's bickering ended up serving as John's sleep aid, although it was really more the compounding exhaustion that had forced his body to shut down before he could hear the full show play out. A pity - it had been cracking him up.
However it had ended, it seemingly hadn't changed anything. John still woke up to everyone being in the same positions as they were when he'd slipped into sleep. Esparza's slumbering form was the most peaceful John had seen of the pilot since they'd first met. Thel's back was to them both, but that was fine. He liked that Sangheili displays of affection included backs turned, standing (laying) guard towards the rest of the bedroom. Likely a holdover from when their ancestors slept outside and in caves - and maybe a bit because of the modern day practice of semi-legal assassination attempts.
John lingered on the mattress, deciding he'd put off getting up until one or both of them had awakened. He'd savor the moment until then.
Maybe it was a good thing to stop and rest every once in a while. Not that he'd admit so out loud.