Soldiers // a halo story

Chapter Seven | The Big Day

{A/N: I won't do this a lot because I think they're annoying and mess up the word count, but if you're looking for a good, quick and sweet angstful story about Agent Washington, my friend wrote one. Their username is Alice_Breigh and the story is He Remembers. Check it out, it's super good in my opinion!}

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"Leadership is an action, not a position."

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Four months went by quickly. Cleo still remembered walking into the facility the first day, her heart slamming against her chest. She remembers having her squad, whom she had known for years, being broken into only two remaining members. It wasn't exactly easy at first, their supervisor made it difficult to get comfortable here with his strict and soldierlike attitude with unflinching eyes and flat, devoid tone of voice, but she made it.

Liam especially helped her. When their superior wasn't being the nicest, he would help her relax and let loose after long training sessions and harsh talking down to's. Most nights, she slept like she was at home again, holding her tiny teddy bear and wrapped up in her fuzzy blanket. Again, all thanks to Liam's warmth and comfort. Cleo found sleeping in his arms was much more comfortable than sleeping on the bunk beds alone.

She hadn't anticipated the extremes of what they'd have to do on the big day. Already, most of the crowd was under for augmentations, and those who were left were waiting for space. She tried to ignore the impending stress of This is it rushing through her head. Everyone talked about this day, all the Spartans would talk about the hellish pains and the high casualty rate. In that time, she was able to brush it off because it wasn't right around the corner, waiting for her.

Liam had been separated from her for unknown reasons, making Cleo's unavoidable anxiousness worse. A simple brush of the hand from him would calm her down. She would just have to wait after the augmentations for the comfort, Cleo thought but still frowned, not wanting to wait for him.

The people ahead of her walked forward, their medical beds done being prepped. Cleo waited, her heart racing faster. It's when the scary thing is about to start that you start to get worried and panic. She'd have to walk into the room where everyone was already put under--not like it does much for actual augmentations--but she'd have to see everyone asleep, waiting for the painful and excruciating augmentations that they have to do, because they passed all the tests and training regimes with their Spartan superiors.

It's still so hard to wrap her head around. She could back out now, say she can't do it, that she isn't cut out for being a Spartan-IV and she could go home to her family as a failure. No, I can't. Cleo told herself, her heart pounding. Doing that means abandoning Liam. I can't do that.

"Cleo Chase." Dr. Yorks called, her medical bed prepared for her. Her breath of air got caught in her throat as she walked into the room, all the other soldiers already asleep. As soon as they put her and a few others under, the surgery would start.

She stood in front of the doctor, her purple eyes were filled with worry and anxiety, it was clear to say. Dr. Yorks gave her a comforting smile as he patted the bed, wanting her to lay down on it. "I don't know I can do this." She admitted, laying down on the bed, unable to be comfortable in it. Dr. Yorks held the anesthetic mask in hand, looking over her. His glasses were sitting up on his eyes, flashing his green eyes in a brighter way than before.

"Yes, you can. The Spartans did it when they were fourteen, you can do it, too." Dr. Yorks told her, hovering the mask over her mouth. She could stop him now, push it away and run out of the room, but that would cause severe punishments. "I believe you, Ms. Chase." He told her, and before Cleo could protest, the mask was over her mouth and nose.