Running From Your Shadows

Chapter 2

Sam closed the door behind him, locking it for the night. He moved routinely to grab his meal and sit there to eat. A lone light flickering above him as he ate, staring at the wall directly in front of him. He couldn't help but picture there was a window overlooking a cul-de-sac with shacks for houses and kids playing with outdated toys. He saw himself on an old scooter with the neighborhood kids, in nothing but a shirt and shorts, and sweat forming beads on his forehead from the hot sun.

"Do you really think the UNSC will bring us honor and fortune? You're crazy!"

Sam punched himself to get that vision out from his head, realizing his more pleasant memories were turning sour with his other conflicting memories.

"No, that was then. I'm living a new life, now." Sam whispered to himself in an attempt to swallow those bad thoughts in addition to his dinner.

Sam was battling between himself and Locus as he went about his nightly routine, from dinner to his conditioning to maintain his shape. He stared at the wall while doing push-ups. Push up, exhale, push down, inhale. The perspiration increased with his emotional turmoil boiling inside him like an angry pot. He collapsed to the floor upon reaching muscle failure as another flashback came to him.

"Just die!"

"Killing me proves my point that you are a killer! A monster!"

Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead as he cradled his head. He knelt down, lamenting at what is fighting so hard to haunt him and his emotions. Sam forced himself up as he stripped himself of his shirt, walking into the bathroom. Upon turning on the light, he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair down, framing his face, his dark eyes shining with hope, neither of them mattered. The X scar on his face, and similar scarring along his chest, abdomen, even his back. There were even plasma round scars on his arms and shoulders. He hesitantly reached to the defining scar on his face, but was blinded upon touching it.

He was roaring in pain. How long was he hanging there now? 4 minutes, hours, days, weeks? He watched his own blood dripping down his face, blinding him from his sangheili torturer, holding the same sword Locus possesses. He could hear them laughing, and demanding for information about the group of Spartans that are killing off their troops, but Sam would be damned before giving the covenant any information.

"You all are monsters!"

Sam caught himself on the counter in time before falling to the floor, panting from the lack of adrenaline. He struggled to bring himself up again, and Sam dared a glimpse at the mirror. He could see his reflection was in tears, stricken with fear, and out of breath as if he was running for his life.

"Why? I do not understand." Sam hung his head in defeat.

---

"Ms. Marina! Please, we're almost home!" The young woman sighed angrily as she clutched his hand tighter, closer to her.

"Absolutely not, young Johnson. You ran off and collided with a man on the street. It's very rude." The young boy hung his head in shame, but suddenly perked up when he realized who the man was.

"Ms. Marina, do you know that man?" Marina raised a brow.

"No, I don't believe I do. He must be relatively new if I don't know him." The child got loose from her grip, but turned to face her.

"He is Mr. Sam, he does morning patrol with dad before going to work for Mr. Mitzi. The only thing I know about him was he was there on Reach when we fell." Marina froze at the mention of Reach, but then realized he was there on Reach when the settlement fell, when she lost her family.

"Let's keep going." Marina said a bit quickly as she dropped off the rest of the children.

Marina was walking back down Main Street after she dropped off young Johnson, and letting his mother know he collided with a lone man. After a light scolding from his mom, Johnson said goodnight before they closed the door. Marina couldn't help but think back to the man she encountered on the street after being suddenly knocked down. She remembered how his hand felt in hers, and how it left such a sensation she knew from a faint memory. Marina remembered his strong and sharp features, his dark brown hair, his dark eyes, and the fact he was wearing foundation as if he was covering something on his face. She also remembered how his clothes did little justice in concealing his muscles. Marina remembered he looked at her in such a way it reminded her of when she first met her husband.

Upon her thoughts drifting to her husband, she cradled her head in her arms and fell to a fetal position in the middle of a square. She could see his face, accusing her. She could hear his voice, blaming her.

She saw her house was on fire, and to her left were two hunters charging her. What could she do? She had no gun, and a grunt snuck a shot in the back at her son. All she could do was freeze and scream, but then a man shoved her away as he took the brunt of the attacks from the hunters. He yelled at her to run, to get out of here. Now, she can see him everywhere, judging her.

"It's your fault our son is dead."

"It's your fault I am dead."

"You coward."

"I'm sorry, Mitchell." She struggled, but Marina pulled herself up and ran home with hot tears running down her face.

--- 

There he stood in his dream, surrounded by those who trusted him. They had guns pointed at him, calling him a monster, asking him what he was doing in the vicinity. He saw the faces of those he'd killed, and the faces of the colonists on Challenger, but he saw her among them.

"You monster!" Sam shook his defiantly at her.

"No, I--"

"You killed them!"

"Sam!" His mind was suddenly brought back to the present, seeing the town about half a mile away, and his patrol partner, Martin, right with him. Martin was apparently trying to shake some sense into him.

"I'm sorry." Sam shook his head and continued walking along their current sector, and realized this will be a long patrol.