Funeral

Anastasia's fists hit the punching bag in an uneven pattern, striking whenever it swung close enough. She focused fully on her target, blocking out the man that was talking to her. He'd been rambling about some sushi place for the last few minutes and she'd been trying her hardest to not hear a single word of it. He was just as persistent as ever, though now it didn't seem as endearing of an attribute. She took a step back and let the bag swing freely, shedding the momentum from her applied force. "No," she said as she turned and walked over to the weight rack she'd set her water bottle on.

"Come on, Annie, would it really be that bad? A meal and a little chat wouldn't kill you, would it?" Ted moved over to stand beside her, smiling in exactly the same way Anastasia remembered from when they were young. It made her want to slap him.

"I said no," Anastasia asserted before taking a swig from her water bottle. "Besides, I have plans." She grabbed her things and moved toward the locker room, annoyed to find that Ted was still following her.

"What plans could you possibly have that are better than having dinner with an old friend?" Ted asked as they reached her locker and Anastasia started to strip. She glanced toward him and noticed that he'd averted his gaze. After over a decade of military service such an act of modesty seemed alien to her, especially in the Spartan locker room. Anastasia ignored it though and changed into her dress uniform.

She finished dressing and grabbed her hat out of her locker, turning to Ted. He was now unabashedly looking her over, the reserve he'd shown a minute ago apparently gone. "That uniform suits you," Ted commented.

"Not as much as my old one," Anastasia informed him. She sometimes missed her Marine uniform, but it simply didn't fit her any more since the augmentations.

"Odd to have something suit us, or to belong." Ted turned away again, staring at a blank locker.

Anastasia didn't respond to his words. What he'd said was true however. It had been strange to have somewhere she belonged when she'd joined the military. Even at the worst of times, as a Wolf shed felt like a part of the pack. That reminded her why she was in her dress uniform, and she felt like something was hollow inside her; like a bottomless pit. She slammed her locker with more force than necessary, frustrated with the emotions she didn't want to face.

She turned to leave the locker room but stopped as she spotted a man in uniform watching her and Ted. His gaze was passive, taking in the scene and analyzing it all. It annoyed Anastasia that he was treating the situation like a threat that needed to be assessed. "I told you I was going to be there, Matt," Anastasia snapped, scowling at the man.

"You said that you'd try to be there," Matt corrected as he approached the two Spartan-IVs. He looked Ted over and frowned before turning back to Anastasia. "I came to be sure that you weren't late. We don't want to keep the pastor waiting."

"I gave you my word I was going to come. I don't need you to hold my hand," Anastasia asserted.

"Who exactly is this?" Ted asked, frowning at Matt.

"He's why we can't have dinner," Anastasia answered. "Let's just get this over with," she muttered before moving toward the exit, Matt walking beside her.

They had left the building and were walking across the base before Matt spoke. "So who was that guy? From his height I'd guess he's a Spartan too, but he seemed close to you."

"He's someone I used to know who won't get the picture that he's not a part of my life anymore." Anastasia was fine sharing her military issues with Matt, but Ted was a personal issue, and she didn't want to talk about him with anyone.

"He was someone who was asking you out to dinner," Matt pointed out. "Are you going to take him up on the offer?" Anastasia didn't answer the question, just stared forward as she walked. "I think you should."

"What would you know?" Anastasia grumbled.

"I know that a date is just a date. And if you don't like him then you don't have to go out with him ever again." Matt shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back. "I also know it's a free meal."

"The UNSC already supplies me with food," Anastasia pointed out. "And I already know I'm not interested in him."

"You call that stuff they serve in the mess hall food? Those augmentations remove your tastebuds, Trooper?" Matt smiled slightly but Anastasia didn't smile or laugh at the comment. She understood what he was doing, trying to put her at ease. But she was constantly aware of where they were going and it didn't make her feel like smiling.

They didn't speak again for the rest of the trip to the graveyard where the funeral was being held. They stood outside the gate for several minutes as Anastasia stared at the rows of white markers that showed the graves of hundreds of soldiers. Matt was far more patient than she had expected, as she came to terms with the realization that somewhere there were graves with the wrong names for each of the former Wolves - the reality that one day there would be a stone with the wrong name for her. She couldn't really get past it, but she managed to set aside her unease. Once she'd settled some they walked across the grounds to where there was a small group gathered, but stopped when they were still some distance away.

The pastor was reading passages from a text that Anastasia didn't recognize. Then again she'd never been religious, and neither had any of her family, so for all she knew he was reading the most famous quote in the whole Bible. She wasn't really listening to the words anyway; her focus was on the marker that the people were gathered around. The name on it wasn't Timber, and there was something eating at the back of her mind as she read the name over and over.

"Don't," Matt whispered, catching Anastasia's attention. She turned to him, not understanding what he meant. "Don't run." Anastasia became aware that she'd been fidgeting and that there was a growing urge in her that she now realized was a need to run. She no longer wanted to be there, and would rather face a group activity with Crimson and have to take part. She felt like something was closing in around her - like a stealth Elite was breathing down her neck. "This is his funeral, the last place you can stand by your teammate and see him through to the end."

"His end was a long time ago," Anastasia growled out louder than she should have, fighting to keep herself calm enough to stay.

"Death isn't our end," Matt clarified. "We see our brothers to wherever they rest. Few soldiers get a chance to see their teammates to their grave, but you're one of them."

"I shouldn't be!" Anastasia shouted, not caring that it caused the gathered funeral attendants to turn to look at her. She hadn't meant to be so loud, but she didn't feel like she had any control at that moment. She was overwhelmed with emotions she couldn't begin to untangle and she was starting to panic. Her breathing became shallow and she started shaking. Things had rapidly gone south in a way she wasn't ready for.

Matt stayed at a careful distance but tried to talk to her, though the words didn't make sense to Anastasia. He redirected her and she was aware that they were moving away from the gravesite. It was taking what little control she still had to not turn the walk into a full sprint. They didn't stop until they were about two blocks away from the cemetery. Anastasia moved into an alley and leaned against a wall, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down.

She wasn't sure how much longer it was when she finally managed to work through her panic and got her breathing back to normal. Matt stood a few feet away, watching her, and on occasion offering her reassurance. She stared at the ground, ashamed of how she'd had such a meltdown all because of a grave.

"I hadn't expected it to be that bad of a trigger," Matt admitted, taking a step toward her. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault I'm more fucked up than you thought," Anastasia responded, standing up from the wall. "You can tell the Doc that I'll be by tomorrow. I know the drill when I have one of these things."

"You can talk to him tomorrow about what happened," Matt agreed. "But you made it there at all, Anastasia. You should be proud of that."

"Yeah, I'm real proud of shouting at a bunch of strangers at a funeral and needing to be escorted away because I was having a panic attack." She started to walk out of the alley and toward the base, looking for the security of familiar surroundings.

"I'm not going to give you a speech about recovery and how it's a long road. You've been on the road long enough, I'm sure you know it. I just hope that you won't keep anything from Doc." Matt moved to walk beside her, though keeping pace with a Spartan was not an easy task.

"I never keep things from him," Anastasia assured him. "He's the one person that seems to know when I'm not telling him something, so it's less annoying if I just say what's on my mind."

"He is a persistent one," Matt agreed with a chuckle. Anastasia shrugged but remained silent, not really sure what else to say.

They didn't speak again until they'd made it back to base. Matt decided to stay behind at the entrance to avoid having to go through security, and Anastasia parted ways with him. As soon as she set foot on the grounds she felt secure, surrounded by other soldiers and buildings she knew inside and out. She then headed toward the barracks, figuring she needed a little rest. She'd have a hard day tomorrow.