Heaven and Earth Interlude: To The Mat

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(Set Following Chapter 53 of Halo: Heaven and Earth)
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Merlin came at him hard, and while his footing held on his good leg, the prosthetic began to slip across the mat. Callum cursed and tried to go low, but the Delta had him made for the moment. The younger Spartan lifted and drove, taking Callum down to the floor with all the force a flustered teenager with cutting edge biochemical augmentations could muster. So, quite a lot.
But even as his head bounced from the mat, Callum adjusted, and as the Delta moved to pin him he kicked one leg free. It was the metal one, which meant this was going to hurt. But Merlin would be fine, and maybe the jolt would finally snap him out of the state he was in. Spartans weren’t meant to weep for the dead, which meant Merlin certainly shouldn’t have been moping over the living. Callum brought the prosthetic down hard on the back of one of Merlin’s knees, and as it buckled, he turned the tide by turning over his opponent.
The younger Spartan grunted in surprise and frustration as once again the rides were turned on him. Their first few rounds, Merlin had been able to pull out a win, the prosthetic slowing the elder Spartan down in spite of his close quarters expertise. But now Callum had become accustomed to the prosthetic, and the boy who’d kept him alive from Oyster Point to Franconia hadn’t been able to best him for the better part of an hour. This round was no different.
Merlin struggled, trying to win back superiority in vain as his elder locked him into a hold, blitzing through any counter the Spartan attempted. The teenager struggled, but he was overpowered and outmatched. But he was learning, and that gave a sense of pride. The feeling faded just as quickly, when he remembered the last person to make him feel such a way. 
Jamison had been a fast learner, faster than Merlin, but that was hardly a fair comparison given that Callum hadn’t been much of a teacher up until quite recently. But Callum had failed him, and then he’d come back from the dead, butchered two of B042’s team, leaving one’s children short a father, and marking himself as a kinslayer by slaying the other. Gammas couldn’t seem to stop killing one another, Beta had the decency to let Covenant do that for them at least.
Jamison had also taken Callum’s leg, but that had been the least painful event of that encounter by far. And when he looked at Merlin he wondered if was setting him on the course for the same type of twisted fate.
Callum didn’t wait for him to submit, they both knew the fight was over. He let the younger Spartan go and rolled away and back onto his feet.
“I didn’t tap.” Merlin snarled as he rose back up, his voice bristling with angst and indignation. Callum knew what was going to happen before it did. He’d have done the same thing at that age, probably had if he was honest.
“You didn’t have to, you weren’t getting out of that hold.” Callum countered, still walking to the edge to the mat where a towel and jug of water lay waiting. They had spectators, but at least they were human. The two of them had been stuck in the company of split-chins and worse for far longer than was comfortable for him at this point. He pegged them as Lieutenant Davis’ ODSTs, which meant that what was coming would be slightly embarrassing given that even now the nature of Spartan-Helljumper relations were still tinged with rivalry.
“That’s my call, not yours.” Merlin’s voice was closer, and so were his footsteps, heavy and deliberate even on the soft surface of the sparring mat. “You want me to stop moping, then stop treating me like some kid. I’ve been saving your ass day in and day out for months. I got us off Oyster Point.”
“You sure did,” Callum nodded, stooping down to take the towel up first, wiping sweat from his brow and letting himself relax. “Is that all? This isn’t gonna make you feel any better about her.”
“This will.” Merlin’s voice signaled the move almost as clearly as the shifting in the mat beneath their feet. Callum ducked low as he turned, Merlin’s outstretched fist sailing over him. It was a sloppy punch, he knew the kid could do better, he’d seen it far more than once. But Merlin was angry, and he wasn’t using the emotion effectively. Mendez had never failed to remind them, him in particular, that anger was a tool when channeled correctly, and a death sentence when done otherwise. It’d taken him a long time to figure out, longer than he’d had any right to. But for whatever twisted reason, God had insisted on having him survive dozens upon dozens of times he shouldn’t have.
Callum came up, and weaved between two more punches before catching the next full stop in his palm, gray-green eyes meeting those of the younger Spartan with a hard stare. Merlin was already drawing back to strike again before the gaze did all it needed to. His fist uncurled, and he yanked his fist away.
“You drag me here into the ring so I can get my mind off it, then when I’m almost free of it you throw it back in my face? Fuck you Callum.” Merlin’s voice was rife with anger, but the kid couldn’t figure out if he needed to direct it at Callum or inwards. The answer was neither, but that didn’t help in the moment.
“You don’t get it, you never could.” Merlin snapped, turning away. Now it was Callum’s turn to be angry, but while his temper raised he kept it subdued beneath the surface. 
“Why’s that? Tell me why I wouldn’t understand Merlin. Why wouldn’t I understand what you’re feeling?” Callum asked, something almost daring Merlin to continue down the line of thinking a little farther, to see where it took him.
“I-, you-“ The younger Spartan shrunk back slightly, likely wishing he was still encased in his armor so that he could let Althea tell him it was all alright, and give him strategies for disengaging. But she wasn’t here to 
“What is it? I don’t understand what it’s like to have a partner run off down a path you’d give anything for them not to? One that’s your own fault?” He didn’t soften any of the verbal blows. Merlin knew how he’d ended up on Oyster Point, of how Callum’s once-partner lurked somewhere among the ranks of the Created, an enforcer of Cortana’s will capable of surpassing most Spartans. Merlin knew that, and he knew how it’d been Callum’s fault. 
“Or is that I don’t understand your bond. Maybe I forgot what that bond with your team is like? I mean it’s been a long time, they all died thirteen years ago, maybe it slipped my mind.” He hadn’t told Merlin about TORPEDO, he didn’t speak about it to anyone, but given Kyle-B115 had been one of his instructors he’d been more than willing to bet he’d been familiar with the so called ‘Lucky Nine’ when the operation was doubtlessly used as a teaching point. The way Merlin recoiled confirmed it.
“Callum, no I-“ Merlin brought a hand up defensively, caught between flustered and apologetic. Callum could’ve let up, let him walk away. And he would, once the point was across.
“I know what you meant Merlin.” He wasn’t sure what to do next. Quarrels with Jamison went on for hours, with Jacob they would barely speak for days, but with Merlin he didn’t have any ideas. Callum tried to call on memories of Chief Mendez, in hopes they’d give him something resembling an idea, but all he could concoct was mindless screaming. And that wouldn’t do any good here.
So he thought of Ambrose instead, asking the memory of his valiant commander for guidance.
“She’s Spartan, Merlin. She’s got all the same training as you, and plenty of experience of her own. She might’ve run off with strays because you ran your mouth, but if she’s anything like you, she’s going to survive.” He had to maintain himself, but as he looked on the younger soldier Callum found himself with less a piece of solid advice, and more a darkly hopeful anecdote.
“You and the Gammas, you were trained to survive everything we couldn’t, it’ll take more than a band of apes and gators to stop Simon, better have tried, and Andra’s smart enough to stick close and survive too. You were.” It was a compliment of some sort, and it felt alien leaving his lips. It didn’t seem to make Merlin feel any better, but maybe it didn’t need to, maybe he just needed to hear it.
“We have a mission in front of us, and all the moping in the world isn’t going to matter if you don’t live to tell her about how bad you felt, understand?” He shot the question out rapidly, as if he was trying to keep Merlin from formulating a response to the prior statements, which in fairness he was. 
There was a pause as Merlin’s eyes shifted nervously, as if he were waiting on someone to tell him what to say, which again, in fairness, he was. But he wasn’t encased in his MJOLNIR now, and Althea was not there to guide him now. Not that the AI would be able to navigate the complexities of the conversation the same way she did an enemy BattleNet. It only took him half a second to realize, but that was enough for Callum to take notice of it.
“Understood.” The Delta answered with a nod, Callum’s gaze flicking to the observing ODSTs to silence their snickers with a hard glare before returning his attention to Merlin. “So now what?”
Callum gave a shrug, and felt a small smirk tug at the side of his lip as he watched the younger Spartan’s brow furrow in frustration. He shouldn't have enjoyed teasing his junior as much as he did, but he’d formed quite the habit out of it. Such lighthearted banter sometimes felt as alien as the creatures they’d been raised to fight, not because it’d been trained out of him, but because he’d buried it alongside so many dead brothers and sisters.
The last of it beside the one who’d risen from their grave to take bloody revenge on him and the galaxy.
“You’re hot dropping into a goddamn Shield World, Merlin. Unless you plan on letting Kedar’s bunch of fours outdo you, you’re going to come with me and we’re gonna go over your loadout. Then I’m going to answer your questions as best I can about shield worlds.” Callum folded his arms over one another across his chest, and let a smug look take over his visage.
“You trained on the outside of a shield world, Callum.” Merlin countered.
“And I was on Requiem, both times.” Callum shot back.
“And I’ve read more reports and debriefs about those battles than anyone should ever have to, plus Althe-” Merlin of course caught himself in his tracks as Callum’s stare turned hard as the Delta again attempted to fall back onto the AI again. 
“Merlin, where has overreliance on AI gotten our species as of late?” The young Spartan sighed and nodded in understanding. Better to relent and suffer Callum’s tactical lectures than listen to  him ramble on about the sheer indignity of operating under the likes of Shinsu ‘Refum. But given Merlin’s cooperation, Callum decided to spare him that talk, for now.
Debating different loadouts and equipment would make for more pleasant discussion anyway.