Confiding

John moved through his living room, running a rag over the coffee table to clean it of dust. The house was so quiet when Sam was at school, and Kelly was gone, so it felt so much bigger and hollow. He moved into the kitchen and grabbed the datapad that was sitting on the table. He then went back to the living room, intent on writing up a letter to Kelly; as he often did to relieve the lonely feeling he got at times like these. He had written over two dozen, but had never sent any of them. He didn't want to make Kelly feel any worse about the time she spent away from her family. He was just about to sit down when there was a knock at the door.

John hesitated, not sure who would be visiting in the middle of the day. He moved to the door and was surprised that when it opened he found Anastasia standing on the other side. She was wearing a simple green t-shirt with the Spartan eagle in a darker green on the front, and a pair of khakis. John stepped to the side to allow her in. She moved into the house without a word, which was how her visits usually started.

She still wasn't very comfortable in John's home, but she seemed to be relaxing easier and more quickly with each visit. He always let her start the conversation; it allowed her to have some security if she felt like she was in control. "Kelly isn't here,” she said simply.

It hadn't really been a question, but John treated it as one. "No, she's not. She's on an assignment right now, and Sam is at school." John moved to stand beside her. "Do you want something to drink?" Anastasia only nodded in response. John motioned to couch before he moved to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of cups. He filled one with water and retrieved a carton from the refrigerator. After he'd poured the milk he put the carton away and went back out to the living room. John passed Anastasia the glass of milk and sat down beside her. "How are you?" John asked as she sipped at the milk. John had found it amusing that his sister's drink of choice was milk, and had even managed to get a picture of her drinking milk with Sam - though he'd never tell her that picture existed.

"I'm alive, and I have no new major injuries, so I'd say I'm doing fairly well." Anastasia brushed off the question as John had expected. "So, Kelly's busy. How's Sam?"

"He's doing really well," John answered. Sam was one subject that he loved to talk about and one that Anastasia seemed interested in. "He's excelling in his studies and is easily at the top of his class. His teachers told me a few weeks ago that he'd started a gang, but when I asked him about it he said he was building a team. What the teacher left out is that his team patrols the playground and protects kids from being bullied." John smiled proudly, happy with his son showing such leadership and nobility so early in life.

"So Sam made his own little troop of Avengers?" John seemed confused by her question. "Do you know what the Avengers are?" John shook his head. "Justice League? Teen Titans? The X-Men?" John shook his head to each. "Wow, you've never read a comic book. I had a friend that used to read them when we were teens…" Anastasia's features grew sad and her gaze turned to the floor. John was concerned, worried that there was something he should be doing to comfort her but he was failing. "The point is, they're a group of superheroes that work together."

John nodded but didn't really address it, more focused on his sister. She seemed uneasy about something, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. "How is Crimson?" It seemed like a good way to lead in to asking about more serious subjects.

"Well we haven't lost anyone, so I would say that's fairly good," Anastasia answered.  "I suppose I'm getting along fine with them." She was being evasive, more than usual, and John didn't like it. They'd made so much progress lately and he hated to think that all of that was gone. "I haven't injured any other Spartans recently either."

John was glad to hear that, as he knew she could have arguments with other Spartans and at least she wasn't getting herself in trouble. "Then why are you visiting?" They both knew Anastasia usually visited when her teammates were annoying her, or when she wanted to get away from Spartan-IVs in general.

"I can't just come visit my brother? I thought you said that I could stop by any time." Anastasia looked to him and John frowned at her. "Okay, so I'm not just here for conversation." Anastasia pulled out a small tacpad. "The Psychiatrist wants me to open up, so I promised I'd find someone to talk to. I just need your thumb print and for you to sign here and he'll leave me alone about it."

"You're seeing the Psychiatrist again?" John asked. That was troubling news. Anastasia hadn't had any problems that required her to see a doctor for a while, and she'd seemed to be doing better. "What happened?"

"Nothing, it was just one of those standard checkups. I was reluctant to talk to him and he made some claim that I was being argumentative. Sure, I called therapy a stupid thing that doesn't work, but in the end he said that if I wouldn't trust him I had to find someone else to trust. Just sign the thing."

John scowled but didn't move to take the tacpad.  "Ana, I'm not going to just sign it; that would be a lie. Maybe you should find someone to open up to. I can see it when you visit, the way you seem jealous of Sam when you come over." Those words seemed to really activate her. "If you’ll at least tell me why you seem jealous of my son, then I'll sign it."

Anastasia crossed her arms, slouched, and looked away from him. John just sat in silence, considering it a victory that she hadn't just got up and left. Anastasia sighed and finally spoke. "Of course I'm jealous of Sam. He has a happy home life and a loving mother and father…" Anastasia sighed and slumped against the couch. "I'm jealous that he has the childhood I wish I had. Now will you sign it?" John took the tacpad and signed it before handing it back. "You have to give your thumb print too," she reminded him.

"The deal was only for my signature," John pointed out. Anastasia groaned, realizing that he was going to try to get more information from her. He didn't like having to force her hand, but he thought it would be healthy for her to get things off her chest. "Come on, Ana, it’s not that big of a request."

"That's easy for you to say, but you have no idea. You probably don't really want to know any of the things I would tell you. You have a happy life, John. There's no reason to weigh it down with any of my issues." Anastasia let out a long breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I don't even know what I'd tell you." John didn’t know how to reply. He didn't know what he'd want to know that wouldn't be asking too much. "When I was twelve I tried to kill myself," Anastasia blurted out. John was stunned by the information, or rather the admission. He had come to suspect that the scars on her wrists were from an attempted suicide, but she'd never admitted it. Anastasia's gaze was glued to the floor and he knew she wasn't about to look at him after her statement.

John pressed his finger to the tacpad and it registered his print. He handed it back and Anastasia took it without a word. John moved without thinking, and his hand gently pulled her head toward him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm glad you don't feel that way anymore, Ana." She didn't react to his words, just stared down at the carpet. John realized that she had tensed up and he was struck by a possibility that he hadn't considered before. "You don't feel like that; do you Ana?" Still she didn't respond to his question and he was starting to feel worried. "Anastasia," he said a bit louder. Anastasia finally turned to him but there was some emotion on her face he wasn't able to identify. "Ana, tell me you don't feel that way anymore."

Anastasia seemed to ignore the question. "Why did you do that?" John furrowed his brow, not sure what she was referring to. "Why did you kiss my head?"

"Oh," John hadn’t realized he'd even done the action. "It's just a habit I apparently have developed. Kelly says I do it when I'm feeling protective. I kiss Kelly on the head before she leaves on deployment, and Sam every night when he goes to sleep. I don't know when it started, but Kelly has commented on it before."

"I don't want, or need, your protection. In my experience the people who protect me end up dead." Anastasia scooted away from him on the couch, seeking more distance between them.

"Anastasia, what I want to protect you from can't kill me. In fact I can't really do anything to protect you from it anyway, because it's all memories and thoughts in your head. I wish I could help you deal with them, but I know that I can't. However, that doesn't mean I can't want to protect you." He hesitated for a moment. "…Ana, tell me you don't feel that way." He couldn't shake that fear and he hadn't gotten any reassurance.

"Don't feel what way?" Anastasia asked.

"Like you want to die," John clarified. "That you don't feel the way you did when you…hurt yourself." John reached over and placed his hand on the back of her wrist. "Ana, tell me you want to live."

Anastasia signed and pulled her hand away from his. "I'm not proud of having done it. I was twelve. I couldn't sleep at night because of dreams about the Covenant, my days were filled with just as much fear, and I felt hopeless. I don't feel that way anymore. I'm a Spartan. I kill Covenant not fear them, and I'll be damned if I ever fear a man like my father again." Anastasia's voice had become hard and John could tell that she was angry.

"I'm glad to hear that," John said, smiling slightly. He felt at least a little relief to hear that she wasn't in the same mindset as so long ago. He was still concerned by the fact that she had feared her father, but John wasn't going to press the matter. She'd already opened up more to him than ever before and he wanted to encourage that. Trying to force more information would do the opposite. "You would have only been, what, three when your planet was glassed?" Anastasia nodded but her hands clenched. "That would be a harsh memory, and you’ve had to deal with it for all these years. You are certainly a strong woman to have survived."

Anastasia shook her head and looked across the room at the wall. "I was almost eaten by a Jackal. If it weren't for the ODST that saved me, I would have been killed." She turned and pushed up her sleeve to show him the tattoo on her shoulder of the classic UNSC logo. "That day I realized that my father was wrong, the UNSC really did want to protect us."

"I always preferred the old logo," John commented as he examined the tattoo.  "The UNSC is meant to protect people, and now it’s your family."

"And it cares about me a lot more than my real family ever did."  Anastasia paused for a moment, fingers running over the symbol on her shoulder. She then turned her hand over to look at the scar. "It wasn't until it all became too much that I realized how much of an ass he was. He didn't care if I lived or died, he only cared about his own ambitions. I realized that what he was trying to drill into my head was wrong. That's when I knew I was going to be a soldier." She turned to look at him and then suddenly turned away. "I think I've said enough." She stood up suddenly and John did as well. "I should go before I say something else," she muttered.  She rubbed a bit at her temple. "I don't want to go back. They'll ask questions and I'll hit someone. Then they'll send me back to the shrink and I'll have to tell them that they're idiots and that it's all their fault. Then, to cover their asses, they'll call me crazy and I'll be tossed out of the Spartans."

"Then don't go, Ana. Stay here and tell me how you're doing in the War Games, or we'll swap war stories. I bet you have a few good ones." John smiled at his sister. "You haven't told me anything about what you did before you became a Spartan." John sat back down on the couch and motioned to the space beside him. "Come one, Ana, tell me something I don't know."

~*~*~

John sat sideways on the couch, sipping at his water. Anastasia was sitting beside him, staring down at the glass of milk in her hands. She had just told him the story of how Star Wolf had died, just another in a long line of stories she'd been telling. John counted fifteen former teammate whose deaths she'd told him about so far. "At Reach the Hot Pockets they gave us got their names, then…then Earth happened." She fell silent for several seconds. “I don't know if I'm ready to talk about that."

They'd been talking for hours, and John had learned a bit more about how to recognize when to let things go. He wasn't going to force her to tell the story of what happened on Earth. He didn't want to think about that part of his life anyways. "I don't know if anyone is ready to talk about Earth."

"We weren't that far away, you know." Anastasia looked up and John raised an eyebrow. "I mean when the Flood came you were right there, so was I." John clenched his fists at the thought of the Flood. "But we didn't do as much good as you did."

"You survived, that's as good as you can do against the Flood," John assured her. "You seem to really like the Wolves from how you talk about them. Why become a Spartan?"

Anastasia slouched a bit. "The Flood killed the Wolves. When it was over I was the only Wolf standing. So I became a Spartan, and that was the end of the Wolves. They never started the team back up, and even if they did they wouldn't be Wolves like we were Wolves." Anastasia pulled her feet up onto the couch. She'd made herself comfortable, taking off her shoes and seeming to relax.

"You miss the Wolves." John didn't need to ask, he knew. Anastasia nodded her head but didn't say anything. "I don't know what it's like to lose people like that, one-by-one. The augmentations took half the Spartans in one go, a few died throughout the war, and then Reach took most of the rest. My family went from seventy five to three, but there'd never been time to mourn."

"Seems the most important part of that family survived. Kelly made it out of it alive, and you got Sam," Anastasia pointed out. She set the remainder of her milk on the table. "At least you have some of your family left."

"You have Crimson now," John pointed out. "So maybe one day they could be like the Wolves to you."

Anastasia shook her head quickly. "No, they aren't like the Wolves. They're a team, but no team will ever be like the Wolves." John watched as she rubbed absently at the scars along her forearm. "They're nowhere near the same sort of team as the Wolves. They never will be," Anastasia said forcefully.

John put up his hand. "If you say so. You know them and I don't. And I didn’t know the Wolves either, so I couldn't say anyone was like anyone else. I just mean they are still sort of a family." Anastasia glared and John shrugged. “Fine, they aren't a family."

"If they are a family, they’re only slightly better than the one I grew up with." John smiled a bit at Anastasia's words. "What?"

"You said ‘the family you grew up with.’ So you like the family you have now?" John was hopefully about her answer. It meant a lot to him that she liked being family with him, even if he didn't know why he cared.

"My current family isn't that bad," Anastasia admitted. "Best I've had…so far." John smiled wide enough for her to easily identify it, though he had noticed she'd become better at reading him. "Don't be so proud of yourself, it's not like you have stiff competition. You're up against a team I feel useless in, a team where everyone kept dying, and…" Anastasia trailed off and looked away from him.

"I get what you mean, Ana. It's fine." John knew she meant her father, who he was beginning to think she was never going to tell him about the man. He would just have to accept that and move on. It was enough to have her as family.

"No, you don't," Anastasia argued. "I just…you got lucky and didn't have to be a part of that family. You're better off not knowing, but anything I say may give something away." John didn't say anything, knowing that times like this Anastasia had to work things out herself. "I guess I should just tell you. You'll make whatever judgments or assumptions you want no matter what." John kept himself absolutely still, as though the slightest movement would send the house of cards falling to the ground and he'd never find out. "I hate my father because when I was a kid he would beat me, and he tormented me mentally." Anastasia was staring intently at the ground as she spoke, avoiding John's gaze.

John sat in silence, processing the information. He sorted through the emotions the information brought up. He felt anger that anyone would hurt any child, let alone his sister. John felt protective, like he wanted to shield Anastasia from whatever pain was, is, or might be caused in relation to those experience. "How long?" He hoped she'd say only a couple years, but from her hunched posture and the fact that she'd curled up a bit more was a sign that wasn’t likely to be the case.

"Until I was eighteen," Anastasia answered. "He wanted me to be his perfect obedient soldier, so he'd hit me when I didn't do what he wanted, made me feel worthless, and…I don't know how to explain it." The female Spartan frowned, brow furrowing as she tried to find words. "He even killed my pet rabbit," she finally said.

John slipped his arm around his sister and pulled her a bit closer. "I'm sorry, Ana. You shouldn't have had go to through that, no one should." John felt a bit guilty. If he hadn't been a Spartan he could have been there, could have protected her from all of it.

Anastasia shook her head and pushed his arm off. "Don't be sorry, I don't want pity. Sure, I hate him for who he was, what he did, but it doesn't hurt any more. The thing is, the messed up kid that I was, I never would have dreamed of the life I've had. And the truth is it's partially because I was such a messed up kid. The training he gave me probably made it easier for me to become an ODST, and he gave me a clear understanding of who the rebels were, and that their sad stories didn't mean that they were really oppressed good guys." Anastasia set her forearms on her knees. "Most of what's broken about me these days is because of my time as an ODST, or the Flood."

"You're not broken, Ana. Being injured isn't broken," John corrected. "Injuries can heal, with a little help and some time, you just have to give it a chance."

"Yeah, keep thinking that; but remember that some injuries never stop hurting, or don't heal properly.  If you don't set a bone right it can make an arm useless," Anastasia pointed out. "But I appreciate the sentiment." John smiled and he put his arm back around her shoulder, but she didn't push it away this time. Anastasia instead leaned against John's side, relaxing a bit.

They sat in silence for some time until the front door opened and Sam walked into the room. His backpack was slung over his shoulder and he stopped as he stared at John and Anastasia on the couch. "Hi Dad,” he greeted with a smile. “…I’m thirsty,” he then added.

"OK, Sammy. I'll get you some water," John said, starting to stand up.

"No wait, I can get it," Sam said quickly, turning and running toward the kitchen.

John sighed and sat back down beside Anastasia. "He's growing up so fast, and doing more things for himself. He needs me less and less every day."

"And Kelly's not usually home to need you, though I guess when she's injured she does," Anastasia added. There was some clattering in the kitchen and John started to stand up. Anastasia put an arm out and he stopped. "You trust him, let him try." John sighed and sat back down. "When I was a kid if I dropped a glass and broke it, dad would get upset. It was something he'd hit me for, punish me for a small mistake. You're not like him, you don't rush in the moment you hear a glass fall. You let him have a chance to pick the glass up, get his water, and you trust him."

John signed and nodded, knowing that she was right. "I just want to help him. I know he can do it, but a part of me misses the days he needed me to get his water for him.” John heard the water running and then stop, and he held his breath until Sam walked out of the kitchen. They watched as his son moved across the room, down the hallway, and they heard his door shut. "I just didn't expect him to grow up so fast."

"He's the child of two Spartans, he's not going to grow up like a normal kid," Anastasia reasoned. John wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but he supposed he couldn't help it. "You need to worry less."

"Worry less? How can I worry less?" John frowned at his sister. "I have a wife still on active combat duty, a son who wants to do everything for himself and might get hurt, and you're out there with Crimson and come by only when you need to get psychologists off your back. How can I not worry?"

"Because you're supposed to trust us," Anastasia answered. "Kelly is a skilled Spartan that can handle herself, Sam is a capable kid, and I have Crimson, even if I hate having to be around them. Besides, don't you like me coming around?"

"Of course I do, I just wish you'd come to visit just to visit." John liked his sister's visits, but sometimes he wished she'd come just because she wanted to see him. "I care about you, so I'm going to worry. That's part of being human. Wouldn't you worry if I was still in combat?"

Anastasia huffed before she answered. "You've destroyed Halos, the Flood, the Ark, and a Forerunner. Why would I worry?" John felt like he should be hurt or offended, but with his record most people seemed to think him invincible. He had sort of assumed that Anastasia, having actually spent time around him, would have come to realize that it wasn't true. "You really need to relax."

"It's hard to go from being the leader of the Spartans, to sitting at home while my wife and sister run into combat." John scowled, really not liking how this conversation had changed to being about him. But he supposed he owed it to Anastasia to open up as she had for him. "I stepped down from a combat role to ensure that they couldn't use Kelly and I both not being home as a reason to keep Sam from us…but I still miss it sometimes."

"You shouldn't, it's still hard work, still dangerous, and there's very little stability. Here you have a home, a family, and you get what a lot of people can only hope for. You have peace." Anastasia looked around the room, a yearning look on her face. "Those things are lost to some of us."  

John hated to hear his sister talk like that, with no hope of one day having a peaceful life. He remembered a time when he thought his only family would be the Spartans, and that they'd be at war forever. "Those aren't lost to you, Ana. You have a family here, a home, and you are safe and can be peaceful here. You haven't lost any of it."

"You don't understand," Anastasia contradicted. "I mean a family like you have. The only men I've ever even started to have feelings for have either stabbed me in the back or died. And I wouldn't trust myself with a kid, I'd just end up a screwed up parent. I'll never have a house of my own that I visit every day. Not that I'd want one - it would be just a big empty space to remind me I'm alone. As for peace, it doesn't suit me. It would be like wearing a wool sweater against your skin. It's itchy and uncomfortable, not something I want." Anastasia sat up a little bit and she seemed to be thinking about something. "There may be something you can help me not loose, though."

"Anything," John said, eager to help his sister however he could.

"My name," she said simply. "I'm the only one that knows it, and I feel like it's slipping away because I don't even call myself by it."

"Ana, no one’s trying to take your name." John didn't quite understand what she meant. They all knew her name, so how was she losing it?

"Not Anastasia, that's the crap name that my father gave me. I mean my real name, the name I earned, that the drop pod gave me." John raised an eyebrow but waited for her to explain. "The Wolves had real names, true names, ones that you were given by combat. Sky, Stone, Gray, they were all names given because of combat. The Wolves are gone now, so I'm the only one that remembers their real names, as well as my own real name."

John nodded, understanding now what she meant and why it was important. The Wolves had been her team, the closest thing to a good family for years and she'd watched them die one at a time. Any traditions or beliefs they’d had would be precious to her, particularly as she was the only one to carry them on. "If you tell it to me, Ana, I swear to call you by it all the time so you'll never lose it, ever."

"Not always," Anastasia said, shaking her head a bit. "Only when we’re with the family, and only if they promise not to say it around people that aren't part of the family. No one but my pack can know my name."

"Are you going to tell Crimson?" John asked.

Anastasia snorted. "They aren't my pack," she answered. "Now promise you won't say it outside of the pack."

"I promise not to say your true name to anyone or around anyone outside the pack." John placed a hand on his heart and sat up a bit taller so she knew he was being serious."

"Okay," Anastasia said, appeased by his promise. "My real name was given to me on our first real mission out. My pod malfunctioned, went up in flames, and hit the planet hard." John was surprised by the information. A malfunctioning pod for an ODST meant certain death. "I was hurt, I couldn't get out uninjured, but I was alive. After that my team gave me the name Fire because I defied my burning pod, because the fire couldn't kill me," Fire explained. "I am Fire Wolf."

John smiled and placed an arm around his sister's shoulder. "Thank you, Fire, for allowing me to keep this precious thing alive."

"You're a good guy, Lucky, so I know I can trust you." John raised one eyebrow slightly and Fire smiled. "As a Wolf I have a right to inform people of their true names. I think all the suicidal things you've done and falling from a Dreadnaught to Earth awards you Wolf status. That, and being part of my pack."

"So I'm Lucky Wolf?" Fire nodded and John chuckled. "The Spartans always did say I was lucky. I think it’s perfect."

"Doesn't matter what you think of it. Mud Wolf didn't like his name, but combat chooses it for you and you've got to live with it." Anastasia smirked and leaned a bit toward John's side and his comfort. "It's getting late," she remarked.

John glanced toward a clock and realized he should have been working on dinner. "I am way off schedule," John muttered.

"I didn't mean to get in the way of your day," Fire said, frowning a bit. "I'll get out of your hair and let you make dinner."

"You could stay for dinner," John pointed out. Fire smiled slightly but shook her head. John decided not to push it, knowing she was set on leaving and that he wouldn't be able to stop her. "Can I at least get a hug?" It was another habit that Kelly had pointed out to him. He hugged Sam every day when he went to school and would hug Kelly until she had to force him to let her go before deployments. He'd started the habit as well when Fire would leave. She sighed and reluctantly nodded. John wrapped his arms around his sister and hugged her, glad to feel her return the hug. "I'm glad you opened up, Fire. I really appreciate it." John loosened his grip on Fire but was surprised when she didn't.

"Thanks for listening," Fire said over his shoulder. She released him and John let his own grip loosen. "I'll visit again, John. And not because it's mandated by a medical professional."

John grinned and led Fire to the door. "Maybe next time you'll stay for dinner. Sam would love to have you around."

"We'll see," Fire said, with a very slight smile. "See you later, brother." John watched his sister walk out the door. John shut the front door and moved toward the kitchen, feeling rather good. It was the most productive visit he'd ever had with Fire, and it was a good sign that she would continue to open up to him.