Disclaimer – I don't own G.I. Joe Sigma 6. This is an origin story for Snake Eyes that I'm going to use for other fics, including the crossover series I am already working on. I actually enjoy combining elements from all of the canons, but I'm specifically working with Sigma 6 as that's the only canon in which Scott Abernathy shows up in. Sigma 6's origin of Snake Eyes has him with the Arashikage clan at a much earlier age, much like the live action movies.

Janome
Survival Instinct

The rush of life memories flooded his brain, his mind attempting to grasp onto even the smallest thought, yet his own name evaded him. Instead, the sensation of water surrounding his small body, crushing down as a cacophony of rushing water filled his ears, the urge to survive taking precedence over everything else. His body continued down, as his eyes took in the rush of the watery abyss.

Then, his head slammed against a rock. His lungs already stung from lack of oxygen, but the sharp pain made his mouth open, instinctively taking a deep breath, forcing water to fill his lungs. His fingers somehow managed to scrape against the sharp rocks, and he pulled himself forward despite the biting sensation. Somehow, someway, he ended up pulling himself out of the water which was almost a watery grave.

His small frame trembled, then he coughed out the water in his lungs, gasping desperately for air. His fingers reached out, grasping the stones. Somehow, someway, he pushed himself up away from the ground. His eyes looked around, taking in the river bank and woods nearby. His mind remained foggy, and yet he tried to recollect something to help him in his current predicament.

"I am?"

No name…

No name sprung to mind. The rush of life memories which flooded his brain a few moments before were now gone. His entire body ached, and something said he wanted another person to come and rescue him from the abyss of uncertainty and pain, yet nobody came. Letting out a gargled sound, he attempted to stand up onto his two feet. Instead, a pain in his knee made him drop quickly.

Taking a deep breath, his entire body shuddering, he stood up again, the urge to fight and live taking over. Instinct told him he needed to live, and he found himself staggering into the woods, looking for something, something he couldn't place as his head throbbed. His hands scrapped against the bark of the trees. The ground slipped under his feet. He kept walking, going uphill, then down, stumbling as he did so, but kept going.

He kept walking until the sun went down, and the night grew cold. His clothes had dried, yet had a nasty feeling to them as he tried recollecting something of his past, but also of what he needed to do, where he needed to go. He hunkered down, hearing some creature, but staying still instead of heading on. In the morning, he relieved himself and continued walking despite the fact his stomach growled painfully.

The sun rose and set one more time, before the next day he found himself finding some kind of building, a small village of sorts. His body was physically exhausted, yet something continued to drive him on. He saw someone putting out the trash, and found himself digging in to find something to eat. He made a mess, then found some place nearby to rest. He continued doing this over the next few days, only to hear someone yelling at him.

"Scam! Kid, get lost!"

The kid in question flinched, not understanding the words which were foreign to him, but definitely understanding the tone. The people around him called him sutoritouni, yet he didn't know what that, or what they said to him meant. He thought that the reason for the words avoiding his grasp came from the same reason he couldn't remember his name. He did know when he'd outlived his welcome in the village, and found himself catching a ride in one of the trucks into a bigger area, only to be chased off, and the same thing repeated.

Specifically, he avoided anyone getting close, including the men in the blue uniforms despite the fact they acted like they wanted to help. They stayed in small boxes, so he learned to avoid them, along with other people. Sometimes people would leave food, hoping to draw him in to capture him, but something made him keep going, running instinctively from the adults who were bigger than him, for some unknown reason. Perhaps it came from not understanding what they said.

When he started on the long journey, the weather was warm, and his clothes fit despite the fact they were torn slightly. The warm months started to cool, and his clothes became tight around certain places. The souls of his shoes began to wear out, and his hair grew long, at times getting in his face. No matter where he went, insults were thrown at him, and while he learned some of the words, most of the words he didn't know, escalating his distrust. Why he didn't understand, he didn't know.

He soon came to a village and needed to leave as white flakes began to fall from the sky. He didn't think much about this but soon found himself collapsing onto the ground, his eyes looking up at the sky. His breath came out in puffs, his fingers and toes cold as he looked up at the grey sky. Somehow, yet again, he struggled to his feet and continued to walk deeper into the wilderness, still searching for that thing.

His small arms wrapped around his small body, his feet continuing to step through the snow as he continued along the unseen path. Something in his brain said this could kill him, but something else said to keep going and to keep fighting. The breath came out of his mouth in puffs, and the white flakes glazed over his eyelashes. The wet snow left streaks on his skin, as it washed some of the grime from the last few months.

Eventually, though, his eyesight began to fail. His small body began to tilt, finally falling to the ground. His exhaustion got the better of him, and he curled up, wondering if he would die there. His vision began to blur as he looked out across the white field of view. He remained there for some time, trying to maintain his consciousness. Before he finally blacked out, he made out two figures coming towards him, one smaller than the other.