Disclaimer: Halo belongs to 343i; I own nothing.

A/N: And so we have arrived at the final chapter of Embrace. It's been great fun to write and maybe I'll do some more dedicated Tom/Lucy fics in the future, but I have no such plans now. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, faved, and/or followed.

Response(s) to review(s):

Just a Crazy-Man—Thanks.

Word count: 1,822

It had been a long time. The survivors had eventually escaped the Shield World in some kind of Forerunner warship. When they had made it to Earth they had been understandably surprised to find that the war was effectively over and humanity had if not won, then at least survived. Then they had been split up.

Halsey and Mendez had been the first to depart—the former to fully unlock the secrets of the Forerunner craft; the latter had dropped off the grid entirely, presumably shanghaied into another ONI black ops project. The Gammas had been taken back into the fold of their company, the operations they partook in highly classified.

Then Lucy had been taken from him, discharged and sent to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation while he was assigned to Blue Team. Tom had fought alongside them until SPARTAN-117—the Master Chief—had been recovered, whereupon he had been transferred to a team called Noble as a temporary replacement.

He had served in other units as well, leaving when their wounded members came back or the team was decimated in battle. He had not seen anyone from the time in Onyx—had not seen Lucy—in years. He had just seen many good people die. Ultimately, he was tired—of the death, of the killing, of the war. He, like all SPARTANs, dreamed of the day he was unneeded; that there would be a time without the threat of extinction or violent rebellion. It was a pipe dream of course; he had realized that long ago. Whether it was some sense of duty, or obligation, or just that it was the only life he knew, he had continued to serve anyway.

Tom had finally had enough; he had forwarded the appropriate forms to Section III and they had honorably discharged him—complete with proper documentation, nearly two decades of back pay, and a sizable bonus he knew was actually 'hush money,' a reminder to keep silent about the SPARTAN-III Program. It had taken some cajoling and wrangling bureaucratic red tape, but he had also gotten them to tell him where Lucy was—she had been sent to one of the psychiatric hospitals on Sigma Octanus IV. She had been released—still mute—several years previous and had not left the planet. He was certain the spooks knew exactly where she was and were not telling him, but the lead was enough. He had purchased a chatter, several changes of clothing, some basic supplies, a pair of duffel bags to store them in, and passage on the next vessel to that colony.

Once on the ground, it was a simple matter to rent a vehicle—a navy blue 2551 model Warthog—and drive to where Lucy had been sent for therapy. During his brief stop there, the place was a hive of activity—not at all surprising given that there was no shortage of people with PTSD or other problems. Her release, he was told, had to do with a lack of living space and professionals, an overabundance of patients, and how she could function well enough in day to day life that they had a hard time keeping her there when so many others were so much worse off.

He had been—foolishly—worried that Lucy would not have left a forwarding address or that some regulation would keep him from finding out. She had and there was not, though he had needed to answer several questions that only the two of them (and maybe Mendez) would know the correct responses to, then he was on his way. He had sent her a short text as well: It's been too long; it'll be nice to catch up on things.—Tom. He did it partly out of nervous excitement and partly because he doubted she had started liking surprises since they had last seen each other.

Lucy had moved to one of the colony's more rural areas. Tom understood her reasoning—less development and fewer people meant it was quiet, which was a quality they both valued; the terrain, gently rolling hills and farms tended by JOTUNS, combined with the first two points made the area of negligible value as a target to Insurrectionists or Covenant. It was a decent mix of peaceful and safe; Tom could appreciate the simple beauty of that. Costs of living were also lower in these kinds of areas and her smaller severance pay—she had served for a shorter time and left at a lower rank than he had—might not have left an adequate financial safety net in one of the cities.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he arrived at her home—a discreet prefab model that had probably been used by survivors displaced in the wake of the Covenant's assault on the planet in 2552. Calling it pretty would have been a bald faced lie, but then it was never meant to be visually appealing; put together even half competently, it could easily go several decades with effectively no maintenance. It was easy enough to understand why she had chosen it. He parked to Warthog by the car already there—he did not recognize the model, though he figured it was from a local manufacturer—walked up to the door, and knocked. He hoped his information was right.

There were several seconds—though it felt like an eternity—of silence before the door opened. Only slightly at first; he could see her—and it was Lucy—looking him over. Then the door was open fully and she had stepped out to meet him. Physically, she had changed: her dark hair went down to her shoulders rather than the regulation cut she had sported on Onyx; she also looked to have lost some muscle mass in the intervening time—not out of shape by any means, but no longer up to SPARTAN standards after years of treatment and psychological evaluation. She still moved with the same fluid grace though, and—most importantly—the intelligence in her eyes, though guarded, had not diminished. She was still the Lucy he had known.

She placed a hand on his cheek, as though to reassure herself that he was real and not just a dream or a figment of her imagination. Her touch was warm and gentle and he watched the wariness fade from her face and be replaced with a smile. In one smooth motion, their bodies were pressed together, her arms wrapped around him and her face nestled into his chest. A shudder wracked her body and he looked down to see tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. There might have been a time when he would have given her some good natured teasing for such an emotional outburst—SPARTANs were supposed to be stoic and reserved, after all—but not now. Instead, he held her close and cried with her.

The rest of the day and into the evening was spent on a hillside catching up on each other's lives. Tom did not speak, rather they both communicated by hand—in a mix of standard sign language, hand signals that had been unique to Beta Company, and symbols that they had devised themselves over their time together. Anything else had come to feel unnatural.

Tom felt that Lucy had suffered more than he had since they had parted. He had left the military emotionally exhausted and with only superficial injuries; she had been subjected to dozens of different treatments which were at best ultimately useless and at worst had been outright harmful. She had grappled with chemically induced stupors and bouts of suicidal depression brought on by presumably well-meaning physicians trying to treat her for something most of them had never seen while her altered metabolism undercut those efforts. He was simultaneously guilt-ridden over not being there for her when she needed him most and awed by the inner strength it must have taken to not only survive, but overcome, it all. She had always had that force of will—and he loved her more for it—but it would never stop amazing him. Since she had moved to where she now lived, she described her life as uneventful—she got along with her neighbors and coworkers, even if there was trouble communicating with them, while her financial situation was more or less secure.

It was dark when they finally ran out of things to discuss. At any other time, in any other place, they might have gone inside, but the night was warm and the sky clear—an ideal time for stargazing. They had taken it up after TORPEDO; finding the light of Pegasi-B's star was as close to a proper vigil for their fallen comrades as they had ever managed to do. It had continued as a means of being by themselves—occasionally someone else from the camp would join them, but more often than not they were alone. Those times together, sad though they could be, were some of their best memories.

Now she pointed out to him the lights from Sol, Zeta Doradus, and Epsilon Eridani; Pegasi simply was not visible at this point in the planet's orbit. It was cathartic and, after opening old wounds as they bared their souls to each other, allowed them to feel at peace for the first time in far too long.

Tom adjusted his position so that he was lying on his side; Lucy mirrored his movements so that they were facing each other. He gently put his arms around her waist and drew her close. She was his, he was hers, and they would never let that change. When he looked at her he saw not only the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life—his future—with, but half of who he was. They had been through enough over their lives to know that the future was anything but certain; so long as they had each other though, they would carry on.

Lucy looped her arms around his neck and rolled so that he was once again on his back, only now she lay on top of him. He had a moment to look at her curiously before she gently pressed her lips to his. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and chaste; a simple action that nonetheless said so much. Tom hesitated for a fraction of a heartbeat before reciprocating. They were reluctant to end it, but eventually she pulled away, moving her arms to drape over his chest as she did so. She laid her head there as well and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, the smile on her lips so subtle that only he would have ever been able to see it. He closed his eyes, listening to her subdued breathing, savoring the warmth of her body against his.

It had been a long time coming, but they were finally—truly—happy.

Those who wish to read more fics starring/prominently featuring Tom and Lucy should peruse the following:

AgentQV's Silent No-More

Several chapters of firerwolf's Spartan Love and one of Roses

Trivun's Memories

Don Piano's Spartan's Never Die

Drake S. Hellion's In Infinitum

As always, please review.