disclaimer : I do not own MGS and in no way do I profit from this piece of literature.
A/N : has been a long time since I posted any stories here now. It has been what, a year(?). In any case, I hope you guys will enjoy the story. Have been browsing through the MGS fanfics here and in various sites, but none of them saved me from my craving of BB/Ocelot. And I hope this will end my senseless cravings as well as all you BB/Ocelot fans out there. Reviews are greatly appreciated.


Prologue

He didn't understand it at all, but John couldn't blame him really. After all, there were still missing pieces of the puzzle that he'd spoke of. Though the puzzle will never be completed, it only would exist as a whole in John's mind, never reaching the acknowledgements of the cruel world. The pieces which he kept to himself - they were all events of the past, having nothing to do with the present and future, kept hidden in the murky depths of the ocean which was his most precious memories, and only his alone. The man would never have guessed nor understood what was, in fact, travelling through Snake's mental capacity right now, in this very moment, and the memories that resurfaced in which he initially thought was lost in the deep, jet black ocean that was his mind. Those memories, be they heart breaking, warm loving moments or even things that were just simply amusing. It had been a long while indeed, since those little lost moments of the past came back to haunt him, daunting, and it disgusted him to no end how those minute things that happen in a split second could, as a matter of fact, determine what will happen next. It was like a never ending cycle, a chain which could never be broken. It flowed like a river, choppy and aggressive at times, but slow and calming at another, never ceasing its movements, reaching out trying to grasp the wide ocean.

Snake knew what the man was going to say. From the looks of said man, and the now faded, non existent ghost of a glimmer in his eyes. Yes, Snake could tell what he would then utter in grief, or more appropriately, an apologetic tone, epitome of pity. The man knew, but yet, at the same time, didn't know a thing. He spoke of words which runs though his mind, never of those in which the heart approves. It was all an act, an illusion - always was, and always will be. Snake knew, but yet, he could not stop those memories, those feelings; hurt, anger, agony, happiness, sadness, concern. Be they sincere or not, or just a rare rush of emotions or those he portrayed as a mask over reality. Suddenly out of all this confusion arouse clarification, and from there surfaced the words, crudely whispered, drenched in sorrow and sudden bitter realisation, "We all fade away, one day we'll leave the earth and everything that inhabits it, going beyond anything we ever thought of, to eternity - where the sun mangles with the sea." That voice, those words; etched deep into his heart, he kept them there locked up in a prison cell and he threw away the keys. He didn't understand the meaning of it when it was uttered then, nothing but a mere whisper, soft and filled with remorse. He didn't understand those words, but he knew that he misses the one person who murmured that very sentence gently into his ear, that person in which he actually loved more than he ever thought he would. It hurts, it was like someone dug out his heart, then gruesomely tore it appart slowly, making the pain unbearable. Thus he clutched his chest tightly, as a single tear found its way down his cheek.

He never really saw the irony of the situation he was in, but of course it all had a simple meaning behind it all. The gravestones, the flowers, the tears - and most importantly, the person whom the damned droplet of water rolled over the emotional barriers for. Snake wasn't the sort to reveal his feelings, but after all he's been through, he guessed his old heart couldn't take another hit anymore. Seeking comfort, he folded up his knees from where he was sitting, rolling into a fetal position. If the predicament had been different, it would have occured to him to find his stance laughable, but he couldn't have cared less. He started reprimanding himself, not that it would do him any good, at least he felt somewhat less aggrieved. A sudden shot of pain in his chest, and he shruddered at the feeling. Death was near, he could sense it - and it would do him good to finally finish this once and for all. A ciggerette; he needed a ciggerette now.