Father of a titan.

Prologue: Out of the cold, and into the world.

"Dear Christ Allmighty." Engineering officer Louis Garrison shook his head in disbelief. "Nikolai, you're gonna want to check this out."

"What is it?" Head Engineering officer Nikolai Kobekienaski grunted as he walked over.

"This cryo tube, there is a second heat source radiating from inside!"

"Don't fuck with me Garrison, this cryo tube was a prototype made almost three hundred years ago. If there is the potential the woman inside is expecting, we need to defrost her!"

"Well that's why I called you over. Wouldn't a quick defrost lead to complications?"

"Apparently, from what Parangonsky's notes of this subject from the old UEG database, this woman wanted to be let out when the DeWinter's stopped hunting her."

"So... does that mean yes?"

"Well, the DeWinter family mysteriously vanished almost two hundred years ago, Corporeal. Therefore, I think it would be wise to follow this woman's wishes." Margaret Parangonsky growled as she entered the room. "If news about this facility's discovery, and the potential for a survivor from the olden days of the first conflicts between the Insurrectionists and the UEG?! This could potentially make the victory we've been looking for over the last couple of centuries!"

"Affirmative, de-thawing process in five." Louis replied, pausing for a moment. "Do we know the subject's name, ma'am?"

"Camille Harlowe. Wife of Sergeant Angus Harlowe, the man to single handedly enter the 'New Order's' base of Operations, and take down Abdul Mohommed armed with nothing but a knife and a very early model M6S handgun. I'm sure you can ask her more when you actually defrost her."

The three of the personnel sat there with bated breath, waiting for the almost eternal process of defrosting the woman inside of the machine. After what seemed like forever, the hatch slowly hissed open, as a gasp for breath fell through the machinery. Suddenly, two hands slammed forward onto the glass, as both Louis and Nikolai turned away out of courtesy.

"Kobekienaski, find this woman some clothes. Louis, keep your goddamn eyes on the terminal in front of you." Parangosky ordered approaching the cryo tube.

Opening the hatch, she extended an arm, catching the woman as she fell forward unexpectedly, lowering her to the floor. The woman coughed and sputtered, a gross, almost green substance on the floor. Shivering, Parangosky removed her jacket, placing it around the woman.

"We're going to get you some clothes, Mrs. Harlowe-"

"Angus." she replied softly. "Where is Morgan?!"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Harlowe, but the year is 2489. When was the last year you can remember?"

"It- it was 2163."

"That means you were put in, right around the time the Interplanetary Wars began?"

"The hell should I know?!" Camille growled frantically. "All I want is Angus!"

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Mrs. Harlowe, but your husband died shortly after his raid on the 'New Order's' base of operations. DeWinter's men got him."

"No, no not Angus." Camille replied, as Parangosky handed her a basic shirt and pair of pants to start her off. "That bastard Edward, I'LL KILL HIM!"

"You don't need to, Mrs. Harlowe. Edward passed shortly thereafter, after the UEG and CMA coordinated an attack on his base on the Moon, years into the Interplanetary Wars."

"Y-you said the year was 2489?" Camille asked, as Parangosky nodded. "H-heh, he'd laugh and call me old. Which I guess in part is true. I'm over three hundred now, aren't I?"

"With all due respect ma'am, aging has treated you well-" Nikolai replied with a smug grin, as Louis swatted him across the mouth.

"Don't be an asshole Nikolai. She just woke up after a very, very long nap. That, and she just found out about her husband."

"Never mind those morons," Parangosky replied, turning back to Camille. "I'm sorry to mention that you are the only survivor from this facilitiy, the others... their machines malfunctioned ages ago. But it's fortunate we decided to double check yours today, we got readings of another heat signature in your pod."

"Yes." Camille frowned for a moment. "I'm expecting."

"How far in were you, if you don't mind me asking. Cryo sleep while pregnant is a very serious thing, especially with a prototype like yours."

"I was nine months in, probably have him within the week." Camille replied, quickly dressing herself until she could stand, albeit shakily.

"That's what I thought." Parangosky moved her lower lip into a frown. "Mr. Garrison, Mr. Kobekianaski, get Dr. Halsey, Clarence is going to need to scan Mrs. Harlowe for any additional radiation."

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"Well this is certainly interesting, Mrs. Harlowe." Clarence Halsey shook his head in disbelief, looking at the print of the scan. "It would appear that your exposure to the radiation that the prototype cryo-tubes use has caused the embryo in your stomach to split into two-"

"You mean, twins?" Camille sat in a comfy chair, arms crossed expectantly. "Will there be any complications?"

"Hard to say currently, all I can say with complete honesty is that you're going to be the mother of two incredibly healthy boys." Clarence  smirked. "I want to congratulate you ma'am, being the very first case of a successful cryo sleep. Not any subjects, as I'm sure you've noticed, survive this long."

"That's great." Camille huffed. "Now why can't cloning exist already, so these boys could have a father?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harlowe. It must be very hard for you, I wouldn't know where to begin if I had lost Dorothy or my daughter, Catherine."

"Is there anything else I should know?" Camille sighed, looking back towards the Doctor with teary eyes.

"Yes. You're being relocated from this facility. There is a small village in Douglastown, Angus, Scotland where you will live without fear of any remaining DeWinter family members hunting you down. You're Pelican will be here any time now. I've already warned the Military Doctor at the nearby base to prep for delivery. She'll be watching over you for the next couple of days to be sure there are no issues."

"Thank you Doctor, I'm sorry if I'm coming off unappreciative, really, I am. But-"

"Please." Halsey replied, raising his hand. "I can only imagine what it's like to be you right now. Just please, for yourself and your children's sake, take it easy Mrs. Harlowe. Doctor's orders."

"I will, Dr. Halsey, I will." Camille nodded shyly, before being escorted from his medical bay to the nearest landing pad.

Within moments, Camille was whisked away from the facility that Angus had escorted her, two centuries ago, wishing he could have been there with her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as the roar of the engines lulled her to sleep, real sleep.

-----------------------------------------
January 2nd, 2489
Douglastown, Angus, Scotland
Planet Earth.

"Here you go!" the Doctor smiled as she lifted the young boy. "The other one is on his way, but you might as well get acquainted to this one while we wait for his brother or sister to come out."

Camille, while hazy from the extreme pain she was enduring, along with the drugs to held dull the pain, smiled as she lifted the child. His eyes were closed, but she knew something was special about this one. Something she would have to wait a while to find out; he had his father's eyes.

A tear strolled down her face as she quickly scanned over her boy's face, every bit of Angus' visage was slightly noticeable, the slightly crooked nose, the subtle cheek bones, and of course, what she hoped were his blue eyes.

"Morgan." was what she whispered to her child's ear, as the infant squirmed for a moment before resting it's tiny hand on her nose.

"What was that ma'am? Is something the matter?" the Doctor poked her head out from beneath the cover.

"No," Camille replied, looking back at her son. "Morgan Douglas Harlowe. It's his name."

"A great name, run in the family?" the Doctor asked, while she continued to monitor Camille's health.

"Yes... Angus' name, before witness protection, was Morgan Douglas. This is his son, and his son will share his father's namesake."

"Okay, Mrs. Harlowe, next one's coming."

-----------------------------------------------

Minutes later...

Camille lay there, utterly exhausted, as she held her second son in her arms, Morgan in the other room for monitoring. As she glanced over her second son, she noticed no resemblance to Angus, but more of her father before her.

It wasn't to say she was disappointed or anything, she loved this child as much as she did Morgan, but she knew that something was going to turn seriously wrong with this one. For one, he was awfully calm for a newborn, unlike his feisty older brother before him.

"You and I ever have a son, Angela, Craig will be his name. Dunno why, I just always liked that name." Angus had once said to her when they first got married.

"Craig Angus Harlowe." she felt a tear well up in her eyes again. "You, your brother, and I, we'll be inseparable, I swear. Your father will look down on this family, and keep us safe from any harm."

Woah, Angus and Blaine are only separated by one generation. That shit cray!

Yep, you would've known this if I finished Forgotten Times. But because of certain issues, I had to stop writing it. I just lost most of the inspiration I had in writing it. Consider this the last chapter of Forgotten Times.

So yep, cat is out of the bag. Angus is Blaine's Grandfather. Thanks for reading, and I'll certainly have an update coming in time for this one.

Chapter 1: Like father, like son.
Ten years later

"Ouch, ouch ouch," Craig cried as Morgan kept his vice grip of his brother's hair. "Lemme go, Morgan, lemme go!"

Morgan, for a ten year old, stood tall compared to his twin. Holding a patch of his younger brother's hair with his hand.

"Yer gonna have te do better than that!" Morgan said, his years of listening to his teachers talk implanting a Scottish accent on him. "How many times do I gotta tell ye, this is MY sandbox."

"But it's our birthday!" Craig whined. "Can't we share?"

Morgan pondered it for a second, leaving Craig the window to punch his older brother in the stomach. Doubling over in pain, Morgan snarled, gritting his teeth as he tackled his younger sibling into the dirt, smashing fist after fist into Craig's face.

Suddenly, Craig started to convulse. His body twitched as his face turned blue, gasping for breath, he reached out at his brother. Morgan stood, frightened.

"M-mom! Craig- he can't breathe!" Morgan yelled, before turning back to his brother.

Lowering himself to his knees, he cupped his hands together, wrenching his eyes closed as tightly as he could.

"I'm sorry Lord. I'll let him use my sandbox, I'll stop being mean to him, just please, let him be okay."

Releasing himself from his prayer, Craig tapped Morgan's shoulder in between gasps for air, pointing to his left pocket. Morgan reached inside, getting his hands on an inhaler. Opening his younger brother's mouth, Morgan placed the machine in, pressing the button on the top as air traveled down his brother's throat.

Craig, now in control of his breathing again, took control of the inhaler and shook it, then continued to press it until his spell finally subsided. Morgan sat back, scared completely out of his mind, while his brother sat there with a evil smirk.

"I'm telling." Craig smirked, standing quickly as he dashed for the door.

"NO, PLEASE NO!" Morgan roared, chasing after his brother. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT, HONEST!"

The door to their house opened, as their mother exited the building, awoken from her brief nap.

"What in blazes is going on out here, what's with all the yelling?!" she asked firmly.

Morgan, catching up to his younger sibling, clasped his hand around his brother's mouth with a coy smile.

"We were jus' playin' Mom. Craig was havin' trouble breathin', but I got him his inhaler, we're all fine now."

"Craig, is this true?" Camille asked, wrenching Morgan's hand off of his brother's mouth.

"No Mom. I asked Morgan to use his sandbox, and he grabbed my hair. Then I reminded him it's our birthday today, and I punched him to get off of me."

Camille looked disappointed when she looked down at Morgan, but had to turn away before she looked into his deep blue eyes. Instead, she looked sternly at Craig.

"So let me get this straight. Your brother pulled your hair, you punched him, and then he punched you back. Am I in the ballpark."

"Yes." Craig smirked towards Morgan.

Camille pulled both of her boys closer, and then lightly slapped them across the face.

"You guys don't hit. You settle your differences with words, not violence." Camille said, focusing her gaze on Craig. "C'mon now, it's your birthday boys, can't you just get along for the rest of the day?"

The two boys rubbed their cheeks, before glancing back at each other, than to their mother, before nodding.

"Good, now come inside. As much as I like this neighborhood, I don't trust the people here enough to not kidnap you when I'm not looking." Camille glanced around the quiet neighborhood, before ushering her boys inside. "Who wants a cake, huh?"


That night

"Morgan?" Craig asked, laying in the bottom bunk of their bed.

"Yeah?" Morgan asked irritably, half asleep.

"Does Mom hate me?" Craig asked, a slight hiccup escaping his lips.

"How should I know?" Morgan asked. "I'm not Mom."

There was silence in the bedroom for a moment, as Morgan listened, eyes opened. Beneath him, he could hear his younger sibling sobbing, sniffling every now and then. Sighing, Morgan vaulted over the side of his bed to the floor.

"Listen," Morgan shook his head. "She doesn't hate you-"

"Yes she does. You're the older one. She doesn't even look at you when she get's angry at us, and when she does, she looks like she's going to cry."

"Shut up." Morgan said bluntly, glaring at his brother. "Shut the hell up. She loves both of us equally, you're my brother, an' I'm yours. We're all 'ere for each other, no matter what happens. Now stop thinkin' like that, because if she didn't love you, you wouldn't be livin' 'ere, or she wouldn't have gotten you all of those nice gifts for our birthday."

Hugging his younger brother tightly, Morgan decided for the night that he would keep his brother company.


Eight years later

"How bad is it, Dr. Halsey?"

Clarence held his head in his right hand for just a moment, before scanning over the clipboard again. When he came to terms with what the paper read, he turned slowly back to her.

"It's not good, I'm afraid." Halsey said, walking over. "It would appear that the mutagen within the cryo-tube we discovered you in all those years ago has dug deep into your immune system. But more importantly, your brain."

"Brain Cancer." Camille frowned, as a tear rolled down her left cheek.

"Yes, I'm sorry." Halsey replied.

"How long do I have?" Camille asked, frightened for the answer. "So I can tell my family."

"Petunia is my nurse's aid. She already knows." Halsey sighed. "Two months, three tops."

With that, Halsey opened the door, poking his head out.

"Mrs. Durgin, Camille Harlowe is ready now."

Petunia Durgin walked in, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry Great Auntie Camille." she frowned, hugging Camille. "I already told the Coldwell's too, sorry."

"No, it's alright Petunia." Camille smiled, hugging her great niece. "You remind me a lot of your great grandmother Sheila, you know that."

Petunia smiled with a slight blush, as she hugged her aunt again.

"What about Morgan and Craig?" Petunia said.

"Well I just found out, so I'll have to find some way to tell them when I get back." Camille frowned.


"Boys?" Camille asked into the household, the usual clanging of metal from Morgan's workout machines, and the music of Craig while he too did something in the form of working out. "BOYS!"

Suddenly, the music stopped, and there was a final clang of metal before her two sons slowly entered the room. She was amazed at how time had flown, and that her two sons were now young men. Morgan had already started to get his onyx black stubble on his face, much like Angus did the last time she had seen him.

"How was your Doctor's appointment, mum?" Morgan asked, being the first to hug her.

"It was alright." she lied, unsure of how to break it to them. "How was your day?"

The two of them held up an envelope apiece, stamped with an image of an Eagle holding the earth in it's talons; the UNSC insignia.

"No." she replied darkly. "NO NO NO! How many times do I have to tell you boys, YOU ARE NOT JOINING THE MILITARY!"

"Just because Dad was a soldier-" Craig barked back, unexpectedly.

"It's BECAUSE he was a soldier that I don't want you to!" Camille replied. "It breaks you! You guys are smart, don't waste your lives running and gunning. Instead, explore the vastness of space! Find wives, live happy, SAFE, normal lives."

"Mom, let's be rational about this." Morgan replied. "If we don't sign up to stop the Insurrectionist movement, who else will?"

"Stupid people, that's who!" Camille growled.

"Morgan, I think she just called Dad stupid." Craig shook his head in disbelief. "He fought the early stages of the Insurrection, and just because he died and left her alone for two centuries, now she doesn't want us to do our duty!"

Camille, without thinking, smashed her right hand across Craig's cheek. The young man glared at her with a certain hatred, his eyes unmoving.

"You listen here, and you listen good." Camille snarled. "Just because you were an accident, doesn't mean you get the right to talk badly about me or your father."

Craig took a step backwards, it all became clear to him, as Morgan's eyes opened wide. Craig looked down at the envelope in his hand, shaking it once or twice before heading towards the door.

"Craig Angus Harlowe." Camille said with a warning tone. "Don't you go through that door. 'Cause if you do, you aren't a member of this family when or if you even return."

"By your own words, I wasn't a member to begin with. I was just an error, a mistake. Seeya 'bro'. Seeya never, bitch."

Slamming the door behind him, Morgan stood in stupor, as Camille gasped, realizing what she had just done. Running over towards the door, she opened it yelling out towards her son, who drove away in his car.

"CRAIG! I'M SORRY!" she fell to her knees in the doorway. "I'm sorry."

"So," Morgan asked with a growl. "Is that why, year after year, I had t' comfort my younger brother on our birthday. Why he thought his mother hated him. It's because I look like the great Angus Harlowe, and because he was just trying to follow his father's footsteps to earn your love, that ye treated him differently than me."

"No- I- I just wanted to protect you both. I was put into cryo for two hundred something years. When I was unthawed, I had hoped he would be right there, both of us successfully brought to this time. But he wasn't, and when you guys came along. You were the one, the one that would remind me of him, even separated by time and space."

"But Craig, he was special in his own right. He took the name I was supposed to give you, the name Angus always wanted his son to be named."

"Well not only have ye alienated my father's wish, but now ye've just lost all of my respect. For years, I thought ye loved both of us equally, but now I see that you picked favorites." Morgan growled, glancing down at his envelope. "I too, will be joining the Military. I will follow in my father's footsteps, and heaven forbid, if I find a woman and become a father, I'll make sure I'm a hell of a better parent too."

Morgan slipped past her, as she sat there in the driveway. Holding the envelope up, Morgan looked at his mother.

"It'll be jus' thirteen weeks. Just about two months, fer ye to think on it. You'd best be workin' on an apology, 'cause when I return, I'm gonna bring Craig back."

Entering his car, he slammed the door shut, as he backed out of the driveway, and drove off towards the nearest recruitment center.

"I'm sorry." Camille sobbed, looking after her sons. "I never meant to hurt either of you."

Before she could stand, she thought she felt a hand gingerly touch her shoulder. Looking up towards the source, what appeared to be her husband stood there, nodding sagely, as if it was all part of some plan. Leaning into what appeared to be his leg, she sobbed for a good couple of minutes, before all traces of Morgan and Craig were gone.

"Like Father, like Son." the apparition nodded his head, before disappearing once more.

Chapter 2: United Nations' Space Command.

Several hours of driving left Morgan completely bushed, as he finally pulled into his temporary new home; Basic. Approaching the head office, his small satchel of clothing and necessities hefted over his shoulder, Morgan opened the door, hopeful of seeing his brother there.

Peering about the room, he searched desperately for Craig, they were both supposed to be in the military together, having spent years planning for it. Approaching the woman sitting behind the desk, Morgan lowered his satchel to the floor.

The woman smiled as he fumbled to get the bag onto the floor, a small giggle escaping her lips. Morgan furrowed his brow in response, as he got a quick look at her. Short auburn hair descended from her scalp, all the way down to her shoulders. Her brilliant green eyes reminding him of the clear color of the Caribbean ocean, of which his Mother had shown him images off.

"Hello sir, how can I help you today?" she asked. "I would assume by the luggage, and the fact you're at a Military camp, that you're hear to begin?"

"Yes ma'am." Morgan replied with a smile. "Morgan Harlowe, reporting for duty."

"Funny, you've got the build to be a football player, not a soldier." she chuckled. "Amber Fleming, in case you were wondering."

"Nice t' meet you." he grinned. "Say, I'm looking for a someone-"

"Aren't we all?" she interjected with a smirk. "What's their name? I'm sure I can find them for you, if they've come here to join the service."

"Craig Harlowe." Morgan turned away, checking the room one last time.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any Craig Harlowe's in our system." Amber frowned. "Father?"

"No." Morgan shook his head. "Brother."

"If you want my honest opinion, I'd say it's just as well anyways." Amber shrugged. "Our Drill Sergeant has appointed me for roll call, but I'm enrolled, just like you. From what I've seen, it's a good thing your brother didn't sign up. It'll keep him safe."

"Noted." Morgan replied curtly, but softened when she turned away. "Sorry, we just found out that a good portion of our lives were filled with lies, and I'm just worried about him. I don't want him doing anything rash and offing himself or the like."

"Today is the last day to show up at this facility. I'll keep an eye out for him, if the military is something he still wants to pursue. That's the best I can do, sorry."

"I appreciate it." Morgan shrugged. "So, where do I bunk?"

"When you enter the door to my left, you'll be taken out to the courtyard. Due to Martial law, and for the safety of everyone in camp, the men and the women are separated. Men take the northern bunker, while the women get the southern one. You may drop off your necessities in the chest with your name on it. From there, you're to head back and enter the door to my right for further instruction."

"Thanks- Amber was it?"" Morgan asked, as she nodded.

"I'll keep my eyes out for you. Best of luck." she smiled as he walked out the door.

She frowned as he exited the door, glancing down at the screen.

"Craig Harlowe, transferred to Luna Basic under the alias Craig Connery." she whispered to herself. "With request to remain out of contact with Morgan Harlowe or Camille Harlowe."

----------------------------------------------------

0400 Hours
The next day.

All the recruits stood beside their bunks in a crisp salute, wearing nothing but their white tank-tops and their boxers.

"Ladies, and other ladies." the Drill Sergeant growled. "Welcome to the beginning of the end. From this day onward, you will be tested to your absolute limit. Your mettle, your strength, your drive. If any of you have any doubts about yourself, the door to pussy land is just over there!"

"I am Drill Sergeant Buck Williams! I am not here to be your friend, nor am I your baby sitter! No, I am here to re-purpose your sorry asses into the most badass killing machines this side of the Sol system. Again, if you are not here to become a badass killing machine, the way to the nearest McDougal's is through that door."

Turning towards this more heavy set recruit, Williams got in his face and barked.

"What's your name recruit?!"

"Donald Hart sir!" Donald replied nervously.

"Get that shit out of your mouth recruit and tell me your name!"

"DONALD HART SIR!" Donald replied.

"Hart? What kind of pansy ass name is that?! From now on, your name is Private Golem, am I clear?!"

"Sir yes sir!"

"SHIT IN THE MOUTH PRIVATE GOLEM, REMOVE IT!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

Thrusting his fist deep into Donald's stomach, Williams watched as the heavier recruit fell to the floor.

"Lay off the jelly donuts Private Golem before you enter my beloved Corps. with the size of a bull elephant, do I make myself clear fatso?!"

"Fer a skinny guy, ye got a big mouth yerself there Sarge." Morgan chuckled, as Williams turned around, a fire in his eyes.

"WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?!" Williams stormed across the room, glaring at each and every member of the group, stopping at Amber. "Private Fleming, who in the hell has the balls to insult me in my domain?!"

Amber hesitated to speak, as Williams grabbed her hair and twisted it. Screaming in pain, Amber refused to speak, as Morgan stood forward.

"I did it." Morgan replied. "Jus' let the lady go."

Removing his grasp, Williams stomped over towards Morgan.

"Ah, so you find yourself pretty funny there, eh Scotch?" Williams barked. "I appreciate your honesty. Hell I like you, you can come over to my house and get busy with my gal if you like."

Lashing out his right fist, Williams struck Morgan square in the nose, breaking it. Falling onto his back, Morgan glared up at Buck.

"In this facility, I am your king. If you don't like it, you can take a hike, you highland piece of shit! I own your ass!"

"Yeah, you like owning asses, don't you." Morgan replied snidely, holding his nose. "Make yourself feel strong by grabbing a woman's hair!"

Amber stood there, her eyes open wide, as Morgan called the Drill Sergeant out. Williams lashed out his boot, smashing Morgan square in the chin.

"If you think you got what it takes to take me on, how about you show it with your fists, you shit stain!" Williams growled.

"No? I didn't think so. But you have earned a hundred laps around the compound with Privates Fleming and Golem. You will run along-side each other, and if you do not finish a lap at the same time, you must redo the lap! The rest of you, you are to clean this bunker from top to bottom with nothing but your god-damn toothbrushes. Staff Sergeant Lincoln will watch over you."