Tall Enough For You?

v

0500

She can hear the summons for the mission brief. Roland is calling her. If she could raise her head from the floor she would put on her uniform, gear up and join them.

The teams are waiting for her, in anticipation of orders to move out. The mission clock was started an hour ago.

But the floor is so cool against her cheek. This is the third morning she's spent in this position. She misses John. But she never expected it to become a physical thing. She didn't have time for the flu. Spartans don't get sick! She knows if she moves a muscle - even just her eyes she will start vomiting again… and again. Sarah hasn't eaten in two days, there's nothing left in her.

For three days Captain Laskey observed this scenario. This morning, he made a decision. He put the mission on hold and ordered the teams to standby.

All he sees in the gloom of her quarters is an unmade bed and a rumpled uniform in a pile on the deck. A groan from the bathroom directed him to the only other door in the room. He says to himself no matter what he finds on the other side of this door, he is here to help a friend.

Slowly swinging open the door. His eyes take it all in at a glance.

Her hair is lank and dull on her cheeks. The dark circles under her eyes look like bruises in the dim light. His eye travels down her body. She's dressed in briefs and a white t-shirt so large that he knows it must have belonged to the Master Chief. The subtle and not so subtle signs are all there.

Shrugging off his uniform jacket, he moistened a cloth and joined her on the floor. Once he got her mouth and wiped her face and hands, he offered her his arms.

She accepted the embrace gratefully by bursting into tears.

"I'm sick and my emotions are all over the place," she mumbled against his shoulder.

A smile tugged at his mouth. Pushing her hair back from her face, he turned his face against her cheek. With no idea how she might take this he said simply, Sarah? You're not sick."