Capt. Jacob Keyes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anotherdeadhero) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cavetales2013-04-29 04:05 am
anotherdeadhero) wrote in cavetales2013-04-29 04:05 am
Entry tags:
- au,
- canon: halo,
- fic
One Less Thing
Series: Halo
Characters: Jacob Keyes, Catherine Halsey
Rating: PG-13ish
Verse: AU
Jacob's hand was shaking as he placed it on his desk, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the cup in front of him, even as he ran his other shaking hand over his face, resting it finally on the side of his face to lean on. He hadn't been able to sleep, the memories of Halo still fresh in his mind, let alone the events on Earth and then Miranda and...
No. He wasn't going to dwell on that right now, she was alive and in the hospital, recovering from her near death yes, but alive and he desperately wanted to be there for her but he was exhausted and had been chased out by Johnson after he had seen him still there when he'd come back later in the day. As much as he had wanted to argue with the Marine, and he nearly had, the rough hand, rougher words and look had all but taken the strength out of him, especially after being reminded of the several late nights he had been forced to have. Promotion to Admiral had left him running around like a man without a head figuring things out as people got used to what was supposed to be peace. Jacob wasn't so naive to believe they would have true peace for a long time, but he had to make people think it was true now.
It was just a little hard to do that when he was also a father fretting over his daughter and wondering just where her mother was. But he couldn't act like that, he was some hero the brass, well the brass above him, were using to rally everyone or something. He'd given up trying to figure things out about the time he had sat down next to Miranda's bed and tried to ignore the memories that hadn't left him at all the last few months.
The ones that, right now as he sat at his desk, made his hands shake. He'd managed to do a good job of dealing with that incident, or at least do so in his head, people had asked, people had made him talk, but this was the first time in months he was alone with his thoughts without anything to do but try and rest and he couldn't even do that because of that noise at the back of his thoughts. That noise that Cortana had told him might be there, the antidote (cure, vaccine, whatever it was) she had found and made the Master Chief give him wasn't one hundred percent perfect. It had gotten rid of the Flood infection but it couldn't bring back everything and at the time he had just been thankful he was himself.
Not that it helped others after him, too hard to mass produce, too hard to give to others, but he was alive and he couldn't complain. Even with the gaps in his memory and the noise, he could at least see Miranda and that was really all he cared about, even if a part of him did wonder where Catherine had gotten off too.
But that was a worry for another time, for now, with a long held breath he ran his hand over his face again before reaching over with a still shaking hand to turn on the stereo before folding an arm on his desk and resting his head on it, closing his eyes. As the sounds of violins and cellos started he felt himself relaxing, pushing down the idle thought of how there were too few brass instruments in the piece then he remembered as it went on to focus on relaxing and eventually sleeping.
It was some time later that he woke up, a crick in his neck from the way he had been sleeping causing him to reach up and rub at it, only to discover a blanket around his shoulders. Frowning some, only to recall that few had the ability to get into his apartment with little trouble let alone be kind enough to cover him with a blanket, he relaxed and stood up, leaving the music on (and he still thought it had too few brass instruments to be what he usually had on) he took his time removing his uniform jacket, not minding the fact that his fingers were a little too clumsy and he had to fight the urge to yawn. By this point he could care less about fighting the need to sleep, it had felt good to sleep but he had a guest in his apartment somewhere and sleeping with them around was impolite not to mention he wouldn't be able too, not until he knew who it was.
But really if they were here then they would have to deal with him in his undershirt, it was his home first and foremost. So with that thought, he headed out of his small office after retrieving the empty coffee cup on his desk to take into the kitchen, only to stop and stare at the head of gray hair he could see over the back of the sofa, cut in such a fashion that it could only be one person. Which really explained a lot, the music (too many strings) and the sudden reappearance of coffee in his cupboards (that he didn't question, it was a blessing).
"Catherine," he noticed just how tired he sounds just by saying her name and he chalks it up to another reason why Johnson had sent him home. But instead of saying anything she just waved him to the seat next to her, and mentally making a note to put the cup away when he woke up, he went over to her, putting it down on an end table as he did.
Smiling slightly at her, he started to say something when she shook her head at him, giving him the slightest look that made him snap his mouth shut. Then with no questions asked she reached over and gently tugged on his arm and then guided his head down into her lap, and after shifting around so he could do as silently directed, he got comfortable and closed his eyes as he put a hand on his head, in his hair and smoothed out the bits that he had cuased to stick up just by the way he had been laying on his desk. And then she started to read, something out of that old journal of hers that she had managed to keep a hold of the entire time he had known her and he caught a glimpse of a ring on her hand and he forced down the questions he wanted to ask to just enjoy this. To enjoy having her around and to hear her talking and for the moment ignore the gaps in his memories and the noise, to not worry about Miranda and focus on this, on them.
He'd always done better when he wasn't alone, and with her it was just one less thing to worry about. He was under no illusions she would get right back to work once he was asleep, she must have her datapad on her end table, but that didn't bother him. She would handle things while he was asleep and tell him if he was needed, and that was all he needed at the moment. Fewer worries.
With a yawn he reached up and gently touched her hand on his head, smiling when she took hold of his for a brief moment and squeezed gently before he returned it back to his side, and her back to his hair. While listening to her talk with the backdrop of her music, he finally let himself sleep with no worries.
Characters: Jacob Keyes, Catherine Halsey
Rating: PG-13ish
Verse: AU
Jacob's hand was shaking as he placed it on his desk, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the cup in front of him, even as he ran his other shaking hand over his face, resting it finally on the side of his face to lean on. He hadn't been able to sleep, the memories of Halo still fresh in his mind, let alone the events on Earth and then Miranda and...
No. He wasn't going to dwell on that right now, she was alive and in the hospital, recovering from her near death yes, but alive and he desperately wanted to be there for her but he was exhausted and had been chased out by Johnson after he had seen him still there when he'd come back later in the day. As much as he had wanted to argue with the Marine, and he nearly had, the rough hand, rougher words and look had all but taken the strength out of him, especially after being reminded of the several late nights he had been forced to have. Promotion to Admiral had left him running around like a man without a head figuring things out as people got used to what was supposed to be peace. Jacob wasn't so naive to believe they would have true peace for a long time, but he had to make people think it was true now.
It was just a little hard to do that when he was also a father fretting over his daughter and wondering just where her mother was. But he couldn't act like that, he was some hero the brass, well the brass above him, were using to rally everyone or something. He'd given up trying to figure things out about the time he had sat down next to Miranda's bed and tried to ignore the memories that hadn't left him at all the last few months.
The ones that, right now as he sat at his desk, made his hands shake. He'd managed to do a good job of dealing with that incident, or at least do so in his head, people had asked, people had made him talk, but this was the first time in months he was alone with his thoughts without anything to do but try and rest and he couldn't even do that because of that noise at the back of his thoughts. That noise that Cortana had told him might be there, the antidote (cure, vaccine, whatever it was) she had found and made the Master Chief give him wasn't one hundred percent perfect. It had gotten rid of the Flood infection but it couldn't bring back everything and at the time he had just been thankful he was himself.
Not that it helped others after him, too hard to mass produce, too hard to give to others, but he was alive and he couldn't complain. Even with the gaps in his memory and the noise, he could at least see Miranda and that was really all he cared about, even if a part of him did wonder where Catherine had gotten off too.
But that was a worry for another time, for now, with a long held breath he ran his hand over his face again before reaching over with a still shaking hand to turn on the stereo before folding an arm on his desk and resting his head on it, closing his eyes. As the sounds of violins and cellos started he felt himself relaxing, pushing down the idle thought of how there were too few brass instruments in the piece then he remembered as it went on to focus on relaxing and eventually sleeping.
It was some time later that he woke up, a crick in his neck from the way he had been sleeping causing him to reach up and rub at it, only to discover a blanket around his shoulders. Frowning some, only to recall that few had the ability to get into his apartment with little trouble let alone be kind enough to cover him with a blanket, he relaxed and stood up, leaving the music on (and he still thought it had too few brass instruments to be what he usually had on) he took his time removing his uniform jacket, not minding the fact that his fingers were a little too clumsy and he had to fight the urge to yawn. By this point he could care less about fighting the need to sleep, it had felt good to sleep but he had a guest in his apartment somewhere and sleeping with them around was impolite not to mention he wouldn't be able too, not until he knew who it was.
But really if they were here then they would have to deal with him in his undershirt, it was his home first and foremost. So with that thought, he headed out of his small office after retrieving the empty coffee cup on his desk to take into the kitchen, only to stop and stare at the head of gray hair he could see over the back of the sofa, cut in such a fashion that it could only be one person. Which really explained a lot, the music (too many strings) and the sudden reappearance of coffee in his cupboards (that he didn't question, it was a blessing).
"Catherine," he noticed just how tired he sounds just by saying her name and he chalks it up to another reason why Johnson had sent him home. But instead of saying anything she just waved him to the seat next to her, and mentally making a note to put the cup away when he woke up, he went over to her, putting it down on an end table as he did.
Smiling slightly at her, he started to say something when she shook her head at him, giving him the slightest look that made him snap his mouth shut. Then with no questions asked she reached over and gently tugged on his arm and then guided his head down into her lap, and after shifting around so he could do as silently directed, he got comfortable and closed his eyes as he put a hand on his head, in his hair and smoothed out the bits that he had cuased to stick up just by the way he had been laying on his desk. And then she started to read, something out of that old journal of hers that she had managed to keep a hold of the entire time he had known her and he caught a glimpse of a ring on her hand and he forced down the questions he wanted to ask to just enjoy this. To enjoy having her around and to hear her talking and for the moment ignore the gaps in his memories and the noise, to not worry about Miranda and focus on this, on them.
He'd always done better when he wasn't alone, and with her it was just one less thing to worry about. He was under no illusions she would get right back to work once he was asleep, she must have her datapad on her end table, but that didn't bother him. She would handle things while he was asleep and tell him if he was needed, and that was all he needed at the moment. Fewer worries.
With a yawn he reached up and gently touched her hand on his head, smiling when she took hold of his for a brief moment and squeezed gently before he returned it back to his side, and her back to his hair. While listening to her talk with the backdrop of her music, he finally let himself sleep with no worries.