( he almost stops him, but the gas they're being exposed to isn't flammable. no harm, then. let the uptight motherfucker smoke. maybe it'll knock some of his permanent edge off.

the war officially ended over four years ago, wrapped up at the hands of a spartan at the cost of entire planets and millions of lives turned to smoke and dust. felix doesn't think about it anymore. ortez liked to talk about it sometimes, as if talking about their feelings would change how everything went down, and sometimes he wouldn't shut up until felix threw a ceramic mug at his head, shattered to jagged pieces against the wall. he learned to stop asking after the fifth or sixth broken mug. stubborn fucking asshole.

felix feels a little like that now. exposed, all his nerves rubbed raw. this was a mistake. )

5th Force Recon. Reach.

( to his credit, his voice doesn't catch on that last word. he's steady, toneless, like they're discussing the shitty weather and even shittier elevator music. he rolls his shoulders and tears his eyes away from sharkface, staring dimly at the strobing red ceiling lights. )

KIA'd, officially. I guess the UNSC made stupid bitches out of all of us, but I got the last laugh.

( he always does, one way or another. )