One Last Time (TPF)

Once the EMP hit Earth, Fireteam Leader Peter Graver knew that something was wrong. All electronics were knocked offline while the AIs turned against him, saying they are apart of the Mantle of Responsibility. No way to communicate with people beside talking and writing, he needs to leave the Spartan base. Pelicans were down; Warthogs were out; it is looking like he has to leg it.

Among the loud clamoring of the Spartan Base in Sydney Australia, Peter only finds Yvonne and pulls her aside to discuss his plan. It is only one person he has in mind and is sure that it is going to be his final plan.

“Peter, we got no comms, no ride, nothing! What the fuck do we do?” She screams at him in the middle of the chaos.

What do we do? He sits on the sentence for one second; the selfish act is going to take him to the grave probably, which he can give less of a shit about right now.

“Peter! What the fuck do we do?”

“I’m not going anywhere until my wife is safe. That frigate is coming down at us, and it’s going to hit, I’m getting my wife to safety.”

As he turns, Yvonne grabs his arm and pulls him back. She nearly punches him in frustration, his wife of all people. Yvonne glares at him; she hates the selfishness he is acting on right now. It was the same impulse that got her first spouse killed, and she does not want the same thing to happen to him.

“What about the fucking team Peter? What about Annie and I?”

“GO! Get the fuck out of her and get to safety goddamnit!” Peter screams in frustration at her.

“You’re coming with me! We’re going to rally up!”

She grabs him again, this time he twists her arm and slams her to the wall. Yvonne looks at her leader, nearly crying yet holding it all together.

“I WILL NOT LEAVE HER BEHIND! I MADE THE FUCKING PROMISE TO HER! I WILL NOT BREAK IT!”

He continues to scream at the top of his lungs, frustrated with the conflicts inside of his head: Duty or Family.

“Why?! Why now?!”

She sees his head drop, the weight of his decision holds him down like two bricks tied to his feet. Yvonne tries to break free of his grip but is unable to, she stays pinned to the wall and continues to shoot lasers at him.

“I’m done,” Peter tells himself and lets go of Yvonne.

She drops to her feet and looks at him.

“I’m done, Yvonne. I don’t want to die trying to get away; I don’t want to die alone; I don’t want to die here. I want to die with her; I made the promise to her that I would.” He choked on his own words and took another deep breath. “I promised her.”

“No, FUCK YOU! YOU FUCK!” Yvonne screams and punches him.

She continues to punch his chest, losing the strength as she falls to tears. All these fucking years, all these fucking battles, it all ends here. He won’t fight, he won’t resist the enemy, he’s giving up.

Yvonne lets out a rage-induced scream right into his face, he recruited her, made her into a Spartan and now, of all times, he is turning his back on it all.

“I’m sorry, Yvonne. I have to do this, get Annie, and get to safety.”

“No! You’re coming with us!” She grasps at him and continues to cry. “I trusted you with my life! You don’t get to do this!”

“You will not stop me, Yvonne, I have my rules I will follow. I am going to be with my wife in our final minutes together.”

The words burn into her brain, fucking selfish officers, fucking assholes.

Yvonne watches Peter step back slowly; he looks down at her and frowns.

"Go, go be with your wife," Yvonne whispers to him as she slumps down and puts her head between her legs.

“Goodbye, Yvonne,” Peter whispers to himself, and he turns to leave the room.

Taking a sharp turn, Peter takes off down towards the gate and passing by the chaos of people running in every direction. Darkness remains to be his ally as he sees better than normal humans. Fuck it all, fuck the UNSC, fuck the UEG, fuck the world, fuck the Frigate, fuck it all.

The UNSC frigate continues to fall; gravity becomes the enemy of humanity. What will come from that explosion will kill everyone within Sydney, there is no doubt about that. All Peter needs to do is beat it. He turns his pace into a full sprint, weaving his way around people as he closes the distance between his house and location.

“I must get back to her,” Peter tells himself as he turns a corner and slides across the car hood. “I promised her.”

Turning onto his street, people continue to run out of their homes and away from the fall frigate. It seems to be minutes before that ship crashes into the Earth. Peter scans the mass crowd and spots his wife standing out on the steps, frozen.

“Miranda!” He screams at her, seeing that she does not turn to him.

Wasting no more time, Peter runs to the steps where he sees his wife look at him.

“What-what is you-what, are you doing here?” She looks down at him as he climbs the steps.

“I’m sorry, Miranda.”

She looks at him, confused.

“Where’s your team? Where’s Yvonne and Annie, or Mark and Sasha? Why are all the electronics off? What’s going on, Peter?”

Taking the hard steps up the stairs, he stops to look her in the face. He has abandoned them, all of his service is thrown out of the window, for one selfish move.

“I’m sorry Miranda,” She watches as he slowly breaks down before her. “I’m sorry for everything. For not being there when you needed me the most, I’m sorry for having you deal with my selfishness; I’m sorry for everything I did to you. I threw it all away; I threw Yvonne and Annie away to be with you. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

She feels tears streaking down her cheeks; she has not seen him cry in the longest time.

“It’s going to be ok,” Miranda whispers and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s ok, Peter.”

The warmth of her hug starts to slowly calm down the chaotic emotions he currently feels in his head. The regret of dragging her through hell and back, leaving his team, being a bad brother, son, officer, and anything else that hits him. All the failures, all the losses, and deaths; a constant reminder that his success comes with a thousand corpses beneath his feet.

“This is the end, is it?” Miranda whimpers, fearing that her death is imminent.

“Yes, this is it.”

The words that Miranda hears from him crush her. All those things she has planned for later will never happen. No child, no more visiting the parents, feeling the sun on her skin and warmth of her husband.

“I don’t want to go, Pete,” She grabs at his shirt and pulls him tight. “I don’t want to go yet. I don’t want to-.” She holds him as close as she can and cries into him. “I don’t want to die!”

He drops his head onto her shoulder, pulling her in tight as she continues to sob into his shirt. Her grip on his shirt continues to tighten; the fear of death continues to swarm through her body.

“Shhhh, it’s ok Miranda,” Peter whispers into her ear as the Earth becomes warm. “It’s going to be ok, Mira.”

Miranda grabs as much as she can of him and holds on tight. She pops her head up onto his shoulder and watches as the frigate begins to crash. She drops her head back down in fear, whimpering in fear.

Her lips quiver on his chest; her body continues to tremble against his. He steps in to catch her as she loses all her balance. Picked up in his arms, she stays as close to him as humanly possible.

“Please don’t go,” she whispers as he walks into their house. “Please, don’t go Peter.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Finding their couch, he sits down first then lays with his back to the windows. No doubt the blast will shatter the windows, he wants her to die the least painful death and will use his frame as protection. Her hand rests on his heart, feeling his heartbeat as he takes calm breaths, he’s content.

“There’s nowhere I'd rather be Miranda,” He whispers into her head and kisses her hair.

“What’s going to happen Peter? Where do we go?”

Miranda continues to tremble in his arms as she waits for her death; it’s the one thing that she truly fears.

“I don’t know. All-.”

The bright flash beams through the windows first, Miranda screams and holds him tight as he balls her into him. The loud boom comes next, screeching through the rooms of the house as the air from her gets sucked out. She shakes terribly and fights against the sturdy limbs of her husband.

“Peter! I don’t wanna die! I don’t want to fucking die!”

“It’s going to be ok! It’s going to be ok! Miranda, trust me!”

She could not see him, but she knew that she was going to be ok at the moment, everything was going to be ok. She feels his breath labored and tries to look at him.

“Let me see you! Move your fucking fire hoses.”

He moves his arms and sees the face of his wife, the same brown eyes he has fallen in love with. She runs a hand on his cheek and smiles at him. Not bad after surviving a part of a nuclear blast.

"Not a bad sight to die to." He thinks to himself.

“I never regretted a day with you,” Miranda whispers at him as the impending shockwave is coming at an extreme speed. “I love you, Peter.”

“I love you too, Miranda.”

“I’ll be waiting-.”

The roar of the shockwave hit moments after, the structural integrity of the house was not going to last. No way, he thought. In a final effort, Peter tries to bundle up his wife as a last resort to protect her from the damage.

She holds him tight, no longer screaming but whimpers in fear, Peter never hears the last thing she was going to say. Not long after, the top floor buckles, and then the house screams as it comes crashing down. The top floor hits then, the next and Peter looks up briefly to see a dresser falling right onto him. In a flash, he balls up with Miranda and holds her tight as the chest crashes into the two bodies, crushing them.

It was not a painful death; the last thing the two felt was the warmth of one another in the tight embrace they were in. Miranda’s head only has a trickle of blood down her temple as he is covered with cuts, gashes and his head is nearly broken open. Glass shatters are found in his back along with wood splinters, he provided the painless death for his wife.

In a collapsed house, on the street covered with death and suffering, one body continues to fight for life to say one thing. Peter’s mind races for his last thoughts to emit before ending; it only makes out two words.

Goodbye mom.