Hello, and thank you for visiting 'Metal Gear Solid 4: Awakening'! This is an alternative version of Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots. Before you step any further into this tale, though, there are a few warnings you've got to pay close attention to. And just so you know, these notes are being written after this chapter's completion. The chapter awaits you!
Warning: This tale contains boy/boy love, yaoi, boy/boy action, homosexual romance, or what have you. If you cannot stomach homosexual romance, boy/boy action, yaoi or boy/boy love, and if you cannot at least tolerate it for the sake of the story (while refraining from flames), please do not proceed beyond this point.
You shall also receive two Old Snake warnings. If you believe Old/Solid Snake is incapable of emotion, and shouldn't be allowed to show any, please do not proceed beyond this point. The same applies to you if you're against Snake being in a homosexual relationship, or if you're against him being paired with anyone other than Otacon.
On with this show. This adventure was inspired by an old idea of mine-an idea I have always loved, and will always love. Several characters from different worlds will join Old Snake's, and mesh in with the events of Metal Gear Solid 4. 'Awakening' is still in the baby egg stage, though, so I don't even know who Liquid Ocelot's ally is! Bwaah.
Two of the guest characters are York Neely and Arc. York, the star of the Cross Edge game, was made out to be the bad apple in 2009's 'Cross Exhale', but will be shown in a completely different light here. York has a head of short, dark red hair, a set of goggles, and a thin, slender physique. He is scantily clad in rather unique clothing.
Arc hails from Nintendo's L'Arc En Fantasia (hopefully the title's right). Normally he was meant to be Old Snake's love interest, but York magically shoved him out of the way. His rich brown hair falls to his shoulders, his eyes are fierce, his skin is as pale as the moon and the color red seems to compliment him perfectly.
I have been heavily involved with Metal Gear Solid 4 as of late, not only with writing but with the actual game, and with cinematography. I just finished watching Act 4 Pt 3, and realized just how powerful several of the cutscenes are. For example, the first meeting between Naomi and Old Snake (which concerns FOXDIE and Snake's accelerated aging) holds a great deal of powerful dialogue. Naomi explains Snake's aging, FOXDIE, and reveals his inevitable fate. Snake's reactions to her are priceless. Which brings me to another point.
I can play out the bulk of 'Awakening' in my head as a movie. However, since it concerns the vast events of Metal Gear Solid 4, I'm only going to share highlights with you. The next chapter isn't going to be very cheerful.
And I'll go ahead and say the ending to 'Awakening' isn't going to be very nice.
Before the show begins, I've got to point out Act 4 Pt 3. The 'FOXDIE' exchange between Liquid Ocelot and Old Snake is just unparalleled brilliance (even though Liquid made it out to be a joke).
Thank you for stopping by, and enjoy!
Normally, his workouts were just common parts of his daily routine. As of late, though, he had been using them to deal with a great deal of frustration. Keeping stress shelled up wasn't the wisest decision to make, so he decided to confront it and wrestle with it head on. Unfortunately, not enough push-ups or mountain climbs could administer enough comfort for his enraged heart.
Life had been insufferable. Sure, he was blessed with the ability to breathe, but he was forced to acknowledge intolerable conditions-and couldn't control any of them. Life had been nothing but a blur but to him, sweeping him into a revolving sphere of events, voices and faces. Pangs struck his heart as he thought of the events concerning Snake.
Snake. Just thinking of the old soldier's face caused pikes to bury themselves deep into his young heart. So much was happening to the soldier, in such a short amount of time. Naomi had just told him of his impending fate, explaning the features of FOXDIE and the complications with his accelerated aging. She seemed to be big on his inevitable death, taking every opportunity to point out Snake's short lifespan. A part of him wished he could strangle Hal's admirer, but up until that very night, he kept frustration and anger bottled up.
He recalled a certain day with crystal clear clarity. Even though Snake had instructed him and Arc to wait outside (which meant out of earshot), his ears snuck into the conversation. He watched as Naomi examined her 'patient', explaining the details of his FOXDIE injection. Seeing her weep over Snake's naked upper half was akin to having each of his hairs slowly pulled out of his body. Each and every hair, starting from his head and all the way down to his feet.
Naomi wasn't the only cause of his distress. He couldn't bring himself to appreciate Snake's lineage, and how he had only been made for one purpose-war. A living, breathing, emotional human being had only been made for killing, and that throttled his heart. It just wasn't right, knowing that Snake could smile, laugh and growl, but was only meant to live and breathe in the middle of a war zone.
Liquid's cruelty against his own brother topped the cake. He claimed to be in hot pursuit of world domination, but seemed hellbent on tormenting the only sibling he had. He laughed, pointed and sneered at his eternal opponent, mocking Snake as he sought the end of Liquid's reign. And to make matters worse, Snake loved him. He was hesitant to fight his brother, the last link he had to his blood family.
York couldn't tell if Snake was just in fear of losing his only family member, or if he truly loved Liquid. In any case, things were disgusting. The Ocelot was only concerned with killing him, and Snake loved him. He loved him! After everything Liquid had put him through, Snake loved him! And surely he was missing pieces to the past! Liquid had probably pulled Snake through Hell's wringer, and he had the nerve to-
Then there was the syringe. The syringe. Naomi Hunter's grand present to Snake. In the middle of his twentieth mountain climb, he winced. If he couldn't trust Naomi, he sure as Hell wouldn't trust the damned syringe. She instructed Snake to use it whenever FOXDIE overwhelmed him, but the side effects were dangerous. She warned him about using the syringe for a prolonged amount of time, but what if there were other effects? Other effects she didn't disclose, or simply forgot about? She was already collaborating with Liquid for nanomachine design. What else was there? What was he missing? Why why why?
It all started with the voice of an angel, an angel he could not see. A warm, kind voice summoned him to Snake's side, instructing him and several others to fight alongside the withering soldier. Five 'angels' were destined to fight at the legend's side, fated to battle against the world's greatest threats. One angel managed to arrive before he did, but they weren't exactly the best of friends. The First Angel couldn't even get along with Snake! Sure, he was kind enough, but his short temper was incompatible with Snake's disposition. The First Angel, whom was referred to by the name of Arc, sometimes snapped at the old soldier over his inability to keep up. FOXDIE managed to strattle him down to his knees at times, and Arc wasn't the least bit responsive to his plight. Not in a positive light. The brown-haired swordsman might have been a pretty face, but beyond that, there wasn't much more. Frustration ran deep whenever York thought of him, fanning the flames for his nighttime workout.
Arc. Arc, as aggravating as he was, ended up on the last on the list of problems. He was never one for high school drama, and the family needed him. Snake needed him.
Ugh. His tenth push up would have to be cut in half. Far too many images were flowing through his mind to permit a workout. At the moment, Sunny's cries were flowing through his mind. She roused him one night, telling him Snake was ensnared in a nightmare. She scampered to his room, he tossed himself out of bed, ran into the Nomad's main hub-
Snake could be having another nightmare. Something else could be going on. It could be a nightmare, FOXDIE, restlessness, anything!
York rose to his feet, wiping off his forehead. He swept a rag into his hand, wiped off the remnants of his forehead's sweat, and departed from his small bedroom. His arms pumped as he returned to the Nomad's main hub, heart racing around in his chest. A water bottle was ignored as the redhead dashed into the ship's focal point.
Minutes passed before a lump rose in his throat. In a sea of dim computer lights was Snake, sitting upright in his bed. His eyes were directed at Hal's computer station, but he was submerged in a world of silence. York's heart screamed inside of his chest as he stepped towards the silent male.
Several ages passed before their eyes met. The old soldier gave him the eyes of a bewildered doe, a faint glow about his blue orbs. Poison churned inside of York as he recognized Snake's forlorn, astonished facial expression. The young gunner had seen that very same look before, and didn't enjoy seeing it. It was truly the look of a helpless, confused animal. Whenever he gave that look, the soldier lost his humanity and became a tiny, defenseless creature.
York took a deep breath, putting on a smile. He dove a hand into his pocket, noticing Snake's inquisitive eyes. They were on him, watching him, wondering about what he wished to do. "I found something for you," the redhead said, inwardly beaming over his ability to sound cheerful. Out of his pocket came a small blue flower.
"I found it today. It reminds me of your eyes."
His initial burst of relief died into incessant surges of pain. Knives stabbed him with every one of Snake's slow, steady movements. The older male stared at the gift for a moment, as if trying to identify an object he deemed foreign. A burst of excitement followed the inquisition, and his hand accepted the flower. The soldier was such a frail, gentle thing, but he was pitted against the thin fibers of fate. His brother wanted him dead, and loved to torment him. FOXDIE formed a mauseleoum of emotions and problems, Naomi never helped anything-
'Thank you'. The words out of Snake's mouth had to be 'thank you'. He only issued two words, and judging by his facial expression, they had to be 'thank you'. It was always nice to receive appreciation, but it was even nicer to receive it from someone that had been emotionally handicapped all of his life.
'Thank you'. Snake said 'thank you'.
"York?"
Now the fawn was calling his name, wondering about the moistness of his eyes. His baby blue eyes were filled with concern, wondering where York's glaze had come from. His head was tilted to one side, akin to a curious puppy's head. The redhead opened his mouth to speak, but found himself wordless, breathless, thoughtless. "York?" he repeated, but with a greater level of compassion. The young gunner's smile was quickly crumbling, and with the third repitition of his name, the smile was completely erased.
"It just isn't fair."
The word 'what?' cropped up on Snake's face. "It just isn't fair," the Neely repeated, shaking his head. As soon as he issued those words, he realized his voice had become raucous. It was husky, faint, riddled with tears. Not the voice he usually spoke in. "It just isn't fair!"
Water spilled out of his youthful blue eyes. A geyser welled up inside of him and spilled over, all of it pouring out of his eyes. "It isn't fair," he whimpered, boulders forming inside of his chest. "None of this is fair."
Hands crept towards his eyes, appearing to reach for a finish line, or for a divine treasure. Fingers made contact with his moist cheeks, working to erase each tear. The redhead pulled away from them, causing the fawn at the end of those hands to reel back in surprise. "All of this is just wrong," the Neely said, the volume of his voice rising. "FOXDIE, Liquid, Naomi, all of it! You're suffering and it's just all wrong!"
He wasn't making any sense. He knew he wasn't making any sense, but he didn't care. He couldn't afford to care at that point. There were far too many tears for the allowance of logic, or even sensible, comprehensible thoughts. He couldn't cry enough, no matter how long he cried. Even if he cried for a thousand years, it still wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough. Nothing would work.
Fingers resumed wiping off his tears. "Don't cry for me," a gentle, gruff said. "Don't."
York gave him the cross between a scowl and a smile. "It's just all wrong and you know it," he said in retaliation, taking one of Snake's hands into his.
Neither of them could say anything for what felt like a century. York looked fit to burst, and Snake looked as if he wished to burst into tears. The little blue flower was in his lap, resting on his white sheet. He looked despondent, guilty, responsible for everything the younger male was going through. His problems weren't York's problems, after all. They weren't anyone's problems, and York had a life of his own. York would never do him any harm, even if a gun was held to his head. York wasn't responsible for anything.
Fed up with the absence of a resolution, the Neely rose to his feet. He had been kneeling at Snake's bedside, but no longer wished to remain still. "I'm going to sleep," the redhead announced, halfway between fury, frustration and kindness. The wide eyes of a fawn, filled with fear, watched every one of his moves.
"Good night. You'd better get some rest too."
York said nothing as he stormed out of the room, carried out of the main hub by his tears. He didn't notice the sigh of an old soldier's heart, or the overwhelming epidemic of grief that shattered pale, baby blue eyes. His own eyes became engorged with tears as his mind held pictures of his bedroom, where he'd spend the rest of the night in sobs.
He was only able to go several yards before a small figure stopped him.
"Sunny! What are you doing up? You should be sleeping, Laterose!"
Hal's adoptive daughter peered up at him, clutching a lavendar flower. Her eyes were similiar to his, filled with kindness but glazed over with pain. She looked as if she wished to ask him a thousand questions, but kept all of them silent. "You gave one to Epyon, and now I give one to you," she said, bravely in pursuit of cheer. Into his hand she placed the flower, wearing the brightest little smile. Although he felt sicker than he had ever felt before, he smiled in return.
"Thank you. I'll take good care of it. I promise."
Sunny's eyes were bright and alive with wonder. It didn't take long for her to discard her natural stuttering, as she was thrilled to have York on board. She was initially thrilled about Arc, but her enthusiastic support gradually turned to the Neely. "You know how you were telling Epyon about your best friend Troy, and the day you two went fishing?" she asked, clasping her hands together. He took her by the hand, and the two of them returned to a mini computer station.
"I remember that story, you little rogue. What about it?"
"Could you tell me the rest? Please?"
He knew. He knew she only wanted storytime just so he could distract himself from grief. "Sure," he said, his voice much weaker than it had been before. Molten hot lava churned inside of him, boiling hotter than the sun, and much more poisonous than a cobra. As Hal's little daughter took her seat in a land of computers, he knelt at her side. It didn't take him long to pick up where he left off.
"Well, Troy caught the lake's biggest fish-an Oerba. After he managed to draw that onto his hook, we were pretty much done."
"Snake, when all of this is over, you'll have no choice but to accept death."
"The two of us packed it in, and went straight home. The fish were for our master's dinner-his birthday dinner."
"Your fate ends here, brother! Your grave will be here, and I'll rise to my father's glory!"
"I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of gutting a fish, but Troy went straight to work. The day had been nothing but hard work, but he was gung-ho about our master's birthday bash from the beginning to end."
"Many years ago, I injected FOXDIE into your veins."
"The entire village was excited! I had never seen so many balloons, cakes or presents in all my life. Troy and I couldn't wait to finish our master's dinner, because we knew it would be the icing on his cake. There was no way we could-"
"Don't cry for me."
That was it. Another dam shattered, and water overflowed onto a golden, rich shore. Sunny, although she was gravely worried over her friend, kept up a smile. She smiled as water rushed out of York's eyes, spilling onto his thighs and onto the floor. Several tears watered the flower she gave him.
Minutes passed between them. The little girl tugged on his black leather sleeve, adoration rushing through her amber brown eyes. "Those are Epyon's tears too," she said, as if she were pointing at a ladybug colony.
"What?"
"Those are Epyon's tears," she repeated, clasping her hands together. "He...he doesn't know how to cry, so you're crying for him! You're crying together!"
York still looked as if he wished to be sick, but for a completely different reason. Horror stained his face and widened his eyes to their limits.
He felt as if he had been forced to eat a bucket full of acid-laden slugs.
Sunny knew. She might have been young, but she knew. She knew why he had the facial expression of an outraged, nauseated king. She knew and laid her head down with a smile. York said nothing as he rose to his feet, eyes glazed over by so many thoughts.
She shut her eyes, listening to his ebbing footsteps.
Several hours later, another set of hands began to drum against a keyboard.
Dingo Egret watched over him as he worked, studying their desolate region. He hummed as he worked, drumming against a lifelong friend. Something wonderful had certainly happened during the night. York always paid visits to his oldest, precious friend, and the young Neely was even more chivalrous than Robin Hood.
It was four in the morning. The world had not yet awakened, but his hopes were high. His adrenaline was running at an all time level, making him feel as if he had infused drugs into his bloodstream. He couldn't explain the way he felt, and didn't know if he'd ever come off his cloud. He knew York was certainly behind his cloud nine mode, as he was always appreciative of York's affection towards Snake.
He smiled as a newborn cub rubbed at his eyes, grunting. Two sets of footsteps strolled into the Nomad's main hub, and Sunny's upstairs singing bubbled into the crisp morning air. "Good morning, team," he said cheerily, greeting all three of his audience members. The Mark II sang at his side, playing one of the opening sequences to Cardcaptor Sakura. He was Hal 'Otacon' Emmerich, and he would have readily identified the song as 'Catch Me Catch You'.
Smiling, Arc took a seat near Hal. York and Snake's eyes met for a moment, and there was something about the Neely's face. Something invigorating. The doe-eyed Snake knew it, and Otacon knew it. "Morning," the brown-haired swordsman said, his voice surprisingly warm. He gave off a wave, seemingly unaware of Snake's facial expression, or even York's.
"How is everyone this morning? Everything all right?"
"No, I don't think so," Otacon said in an instant, barely masking his 'that should be obvious' tone. "From the looks of things, York's pretty upset."
"I'm all right," the stern-faced York replied, his face hardened by something commonly known as 'determination'. Strong, steadfast, rock hard determination.
"I had a rough night, but everything's all right now. Thank you."
Beaming, Otacon exchanged the quickest glance with Snake. Meanwhile, the Mark II performed a jig to the merry melodies of Cardcaptor Sakura. "What went wrong?" the gentle otaku asked, folding his hands on top of his lap. "Are you sure everything's all right?"
York's face remained hard as he spoke, and so did his voice. However, there wasn't an inch of ice in any syllable. "Everything's fine now," the Neely assured him, keeping his eyes locked on the otaku. "I allowed everything I had seen and heard to bring me down. I fell apart in front Snake, which was the last thing I wanted to do."
He turned to Snake, completely unaware of the smile that bloomed on Otacon's face. His voice softened, but the intensity behind his emotions remained strong. "Sunny told me something last night," he said. "She told me that my tears weren't just my tears. They were also Epyon's tears. I don't want to cry alongside him, though. I want to wipe away the tears he's afraid to shed."
The redhead took both of Snake's hands, peering straight into his moist blue eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice no longer firm but soft. There was a smile about his face, and it was inexplicably beautiful.
"I should've been in your place. I'm here to protect you, so I'm the one that needs to be strong. I owe both of you an apology, because I floundered like a fish out of water. I'm really sorry about last night, and I promise it won't happen again."
Holding both of the Neely's hands, Snake looked as if York had decided to sacrifice himself at Liquid's hands. York smiled as if he had presented Snake a plate of homemade sugar cookies. No one spoke for a moment, wreathed in smiles, confusion and relief. "Hawk, Stenbuck," a little maiden sang in greeting, standing at her usual station: the stairs. Both York (who was affectionately referred to as Hawk) and Arc (whom Sunny nick-named after a Zone of Enders character) looked to Sunny, who was happy enough to fly to the moon.
"Come help me with breakfast! Please!"
"What's on the menu, munchkin?" Arc asked, rising out of his seat. York gave one last smile to Snake before following Arc, and both males eventually vanished into Sunny's private world. The two remaining men exchanged glances, one of them feeling awkward while the other was obviously disgusted. Otacon took a moment to type a few more parades of words, then returned his attention to the older male.
"So. What did you think of Hawk's apology?"
True to form, the fawn grunted. "Don't like it, and I'm not accepting it," he said with a bowed head. "Apologizing for having a heart? Ridiculous!"
"Yeah, I'm not too keen on accepting the apology myself," the younger male said, returning his eyes to a sea of monitors. "You know, that's the only thing I don't like about York. He's a wonderful, beautiful young man that provides full dedication to his assignments and his loved ones. The only thing is, he finds fault in every negative emotion he displays. If he doesn't have a smile on his face, he'll send himself into the time-out corner."
Out of the corner of his eye, Otacon observed his first friend. His precious fawn was grunting, wondering, thinking about a certain redhead. When would another Angel arrive to take burdens off York's shoulders? Would York ever stop whipping himself over certain emotions?
"He's much sweeter than Arc, wouldn't you agree?"
Snake gave off a deep grunt. Otacon already knew the answer to his own question, and the otaku had evidently gone back into 'gossip' mode. The Angels were a constant source of amusement for Otacon's naughty side. Or was it 'yaoi fanboy side'?
"And to think," the anime junkie went on, beaming from sea to shining sea. "you almost fell for him. I shudder to think of what would have happened, if York had come along any later."
"You're one to talk," a puppy snarled playfully, eyes zeroing in on the otaku. "At least I evaded my pretty face."
"Oh shut up."
The two of them might have been bickering, but they really weren't. And Hal Emmerich was happy to bicker in any shape or form, because he had never 'bickered' with his first, oldest and dearest friend before.
Ever since the Angels arrived, Hal and David had been speaking to each other on a 'friend'. A real, true, intimate 'friend' level.
This was composed to Nara by ES Posthumus, and Tyler's 'Beautiful' single. The song 'Catch You Catch Me', performed by GUMI, is a happy little melody to Episode 20 of Cardcaptor Sakura.