Tides of Uncertainty
Author's notes: I've been a fan of Metal Gear for quite some time now, and this story has been sitting in a notebook for about a year. Hopefully I'll be able to revise it and post some more chapters soon. Until then, enjoy! Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.
*Chapter 1*
Six months after the Big Shell incident...
Silence ruled a hitched breath, let out slowly as his mind began to gradually clear. His heart drummed on in a steady answer to the pounding of blood in his head; sweat trickled down one cheek, but the clenched fists made no move to brush the annoyance aside.
He'd been in here for hours now, fighting a shadow of his enemy... and of himself, as well. Lying in wait with his fingers – well insulated by warm gloves – curled around a smooth black rifle... so different from the smaller pistol he'd grown accustomed to using, he thought to himself with a smirk.
What was that?! His head snapped up, the tails of his bandana slapping his shoulder as if in reprimand for his lack of attentiveness. Muscles tensed and coiled in adrenaline-pumped anticipation as his breath escaped as a low hiss. Movement to his right... but the stealth dared not stir. This gun wasn't silenced, and he knew that one false move could mean his death. And so he waited, ever a patient asp; he was well-armed and ready to escape if such was his fate.
There... the steps were close, only meters away, but still he steeled himself to silence, his eyes slowly slipping shut. His weapon was loaded, a finger already twitching as it curled over the trigger. He dared not breathe, until a boot brushed along the side of his shelter, and the man blinked as a shadow fell over his limited view.
Seconds drew on, stretching to minutes... hours? He lost track, and his opponent broke the standoff with a shuffle of rubber soles. The soldier sprang forward, smoke pouring from his weapon almost in slow motion as he fired. The unsuspecting figure tried to dodge, but at point-blank range the effort was fruitless. Then, everything around them seemed to fade away and disappear; exhausted, the victor fell to his knees to catch up on precious breath just as a faceless voice crackled in his ear.
'Congrats, Snake!' His partner chirped enthusiastically over the codec, and with a distant click from somewhere outside, the fallen form of Liquid Snake vanished into nothingness. It had all been a hologram, of course, but the cost of Solid Snake's exertion was all too real in retrospect. Nodding, he pulled off the VR goggles and stepped into the computer room. He shot a tired smirk to the lanky form that occupied the only chair in a massive rat's nest of wires and machinery. Otacon pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, grinning widely at his friend.
"Great job! Top ranking and optimum efficiency!" he congratulated before turning to input something into the main console that Snake couldn't decipher. He just couldn't figure computers.
"I got sloppy," he admitted gruffly in reply, stuffing a cigarette in his teeth and lighting it to take a long, lingering drag. "I'll have to do it again later."
"Tonight, Snake? But it's getting late already..."
"I don't see you winding down for sleep yet," he interrupted with the slight arch of an eyebrow, and the technician slumped slightly from the weighty truth of the words spoken as well as those in between.
"Otacon," Snake continued, "you've been tweaking this thing and programming new simulations nonstop for a week, without taking any time off aside from the occasional coffee break! At this rate you're going to burn out – you need your sleep."
"I know, I know... I just want to perfect the randomizer, but I guess I've been neglecting myself a bit," he answered with a sheepish smile to the soldier, who shook his head as he began unzipping the collar of his sneaking suit.
"Well, I'm going to go take a shower and relax for a while. I suggest you do the same, Otacon, once I'm done."
The seated man's eyes widened imperceptibly at his partner's back. What's that mean?! Do I smell or something? he thought, but shoved it aside and started to shut down the VR systems for the evening. The growing silence of his being alone, and now without a comfortable computer hum allowed his mind to move about more freely, and it moved to consider Snake, as he'd found himself in a habit of doing. Hal had noticed a slow change in his partner, but what exactly it had stemmed from, he couldn't really tell. Maybe it was stress, but it had been months since their last mission, and even that had been tied up quickly and with no loose ends.
Heading over to the living room, the engineer unpacked his laptop briefly to check on some recent downloads. He didn't want Snake to see these, as Hal wasn't sure if his hopes would pull through the tremendous odds against him on finding the information he so desperately needed. Ever since he'd been rescued from the hells in icy Alaska, he'd felt the need to repay his friend for what they had both experienced, the root of such horrors being his own creation of Metal Gear REX. He winced. Those weren't memories he ever wanted to conjure again. With memories came old wounds, old emotions... his ankle had never completely healed, but furthermore, neither had his heart. The loss of Wolf was a tremendous blow, and still he never disclosed everything that had been between them to his partner. It didn't matter, really; she was gone, he was left behind. He had to respect her decision and remember her for what she was.
Ah, there it was, the cascade of sadness accompanying such wistful recollections. His focus began to wander, so he set the computer to standby. The download could continue without him. Pushing up his glasses, Hal stopped halfway to remove them completely, and place them carefully on a fold-out table. A hand rose to rub at a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes as a wave of fatigue flowed through him, and the scientist decided that rest might be a good thing after all.
~~~
Some time later, feeling refreshed but still teetering over the edge to some sort of strange depression, Snake walked out of his bedroom clad in baggy jeans and a white sweatshirt. A cigarette already lit and dangling from his lips, he brushed back wet bangs behind his ears. Soft buzzing reached his ears, and he glanced over to see Otacon curled up on the couch in the living room, still in his lab coat and dead asleep. Sighing and shaking his head, the stealth reached for a folded-up blanket he kept stashed beneath a pillow, and draped it over the lanky scientist, then paused to consider him.
Wonder why he seemed to tightly wound before. Maybe he's still scared of me, the soldier mused. He took in a long breath of smoke, but was careful not to let anything drift too near his partner. Hell, everyone is. Why should he be an exception at all?
Because though you're always going to deny it, you hate being alone, a small voice hissed in his mind. You want to take care of him because there's no one else.
But there was Meryl, before, Dave argued with a bitter smile. Then again, she only knew you as the perfect soldier, and she's dead now. What makes you think the same won't happen to him?
It'll never happen, he answered himself, one hand clenching into a fist of defeat. Why did Otacon save him, almost three years ago now? It wasn't as if there was much to him worth saving. According to everyone, he was a selfish bastard. Everyone he'd ever become close to, his friends or otherwise, either disappeared completely or... well, was eventually killed. He smoked, he drank, and furthermore was getting old. Liquid had been right... he was drowning in time. He should have died then, sinking with the tanker that marked his first defeat. The Kid would have figured things out eventually... then again, maybe not. He hung his head, waving the cigarette back and forth in his teeth. He had to get away for a while... away from Otacon. Why? He had no idea.
"I need a drink," he concluded aloud, and walked out the door and into the chilly November air. It would rain soon, he observed.
~~~
The engineer yawned as he struggled to sit up, glancing at the blanket over him curiously. When had he grabbed it? Last he remembered, he'd simply collapsed onto the cushions out of pure exhaustion.
Dave? he thought, slim fingers running over the warm material. It was the soldier's blanket, all right, which explained the fact that it smelled like him. Furthermore, it made him realize that the stealth had probably left again to god-knew-where, and would likely return in the wee hours of the morning. Sighing, he peeled off the white lab coat still clinging like a loose second skin to his figure, and made a slow beeline for the bathroom.
"I really need a shower," he grumbled, becoming annoyed with nothing in particular and yet everything at once. Hal never liked tension.
~~~
An hour passed, then two, and time soon caught up with him, along with the rain he'd been trying to avoid. The shadowy figure huffed, prying himself away from an alley wall as his clothes, completely drenched, dripped off excess water and pulled his upper body down, down, down to a slump. He cursed avidly from between gritted teeth, so much that he dropped the last of his smokes from his mouth; it didn't matter though, as he didn't have the motivation to pick it up at the moment, or even at all. Blearily he blinked, looking around in order to regain and rediscover his bearings, sweatshirt hugging his shoulders in ragged shreds.
Snake raised a hand to support his head, groaning as he staggered forward. After a moment he spotted a familiar car, the graffiti-ridden blue dumpster, and a light on upstairs that was sure to be Hal's... it looked to be in the right place, so it had to be it. With a nod of relief he continued on, step by step through the endless halls of the complex, until he collapsed against the door after a feeble attempt at knocking.
Maybe he'd had too much to drink after all. He heard shuffling sounds inside, leading to the door, but by then Dave's world had gone black.
~~~
Hal had just emerged from the shower when he heard the knock on the door, and threw a pair of jeans on quickly before going to see who it was. After opening the door, it struck him that he was eternally grateful that he hadn't put on a shirt yet, as a rather drenched and inebriated Snake sagged into his arms. To the engineer's further shock, he was sporting a rather nasty bump on his temple as well.
"David?!" he exclaimed, and then corrected himself quickly. "S-snake? Are you all right? Snake, wake up! Come on!" But his only response was a low moan, setting the panic into motion. What in the world did you do?! he thought in desperation, crying out softly as the warm body in his arms suddenly became a dead weight. Thin as he was, Hal lacked the strength to hold Snake up on his own, and was thus forced to half-drag him to a nearby computer chair to set him down.
Only when Hal started patting his face gently did an eye of darkened jade blink open, narrowing to a slit from the unexpected brightness of the room. "...Otacon?"
"Snake!" he gasped in relief. "Are you all right?"
"Mmfine," the soldier slurred, waving a hand weakly and dismissively. "Hadda few margaritas... then that great bottle o' Smirnoff... s'all..."
"That's all?!" the other gaped in disbelief, eyebrows knitting in concern as he ran his fingers over the ugly knot on Snake's head. "Why didn't you call me? Did you fall over?"
But the older man shook his head, almost looking serious. "I knew y'were asleep... didn't want to call..." There was a pause as he tried to put together the pieces of his memories. "Got in a small bar brawl... punk kids landed a lucky punch..."
"Sh, just relax," Hal soothed, running to grab the blanket he'd discarded before. Snake watched in silence, then finally raised a hand to stop him.
"S'my own fault. I'll live."
"No D—Snake. You need to stay warm."
The drunk soldier's reply was a soft sneeze, and Hal managed a soft smile, taking the time of distraction to wrap the blanket around the soaked form before him.
"...you're worried about me?" he managed to say at last, rubbing his nose. He stared at the scientist carefully, eyes a bit clearer than before.
Somehow, it intimidated Hal. "Of course I am. You're my partner."
Snake's expression shifted slightly. "Hal, d'you consider me a friend?"
"Of course I do! What's this about, anyway?" This line of questioning reminded him distantly of an interrogation, and some of his annoyance from before bubbled to the surface. "You've been acting really odd lately."
"..." He wasn't sure how to either take that or respond to it, and decided to merely stare at the smaller man blankly. Long silence rolled on and on, until finally the scientist gave in with a shake of his head.
"Fine. Don't answer. Just... get some rest, okay? You look like you'll need it." That said, he handed him a second blanket and headed off to the kitchen without another word. The soldier felt a pang of guilt at brushing him off like that, but he didn't feel like spilling his guts quite yet. Especially considering he himself didn't quite know what was bothering him. He had half a mind to do some more training, but he'd likely be sluggish in his current state of mind, and decided against it. A glance fell to the blanket in his hand, and he pulled it over himself reluctantly, figuring the massive hangover he'd get in a few hours was well-deserved.
Author's notes: I've been a fan of Metal Gear for quite some time now, and this story has been sitting in a notebook for about a year. Hopefully I'll be able to revise it and post some more chapters soon. Until then, enjoy! Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.
*Chapter 1*
Six months after the Big Shell incident...
Silence ruled a hitched breath, let out slowly as his mind began to gradually clear. His heart drummed on in a steady answer to the pounding of blood in his head; sweat trickled down one cheek, but the clenched fists made no move to brush the annoyance aside.
He'd been in here for hours now, fighting a shadow of his enemy... and of himself, as well. Lying in wait with his fingers – well insulated by warm gloves – curled around a smooth black rifle... so different from the smaller pistol he'd grown accustomed to using, he thought to himself with a smirk.
What was that?! His head snapped up, the tails of his bandana slapping his shoulder as if in reprimand for his lack of attentiveness. Muscles tensed and coiled in adrenaline-pumped anticipation as his breath escaped as a low hiss. Movement to his right... but the stealth dared not stir. This gun wasn't silenced, and he knew that one false move could mean his death. And so he waited, ever a patient asp; he was well-armed and ready to escape if such was his fate.
There... the steps were close, only meters away, but still he steeled himself to silence, his eyes slowly slipping shut. His weapon was loaded, a finger already twitching as it curled over the trigger. He dared not breathe, until a boot brushed along the side of his shelter, and the man blinked as a shadow fell over his limited view.
Seconds drew on, stretching to minutes... hours? He lost track, and his opponent broke the standoff with a shuffle of rubber soles. The soldier sprang forward, smoke pouring from his weapon almost in slow motion as he fired. The unsuspecting figure tried to dodge, but at point-blank range the effort was fruitless. Then, everything around them seemed to fade away and disappear; exhausted, the victor fell to his knees to catch up on precious breath just as a faceless voice crackled in his ear.
'Congrats, Snake!' His partner chirped enthusiastically over the codec, and with a distant click from somewhere outside, the fallen form of Liquid Snake vanished into nothingness. It had all been a hologram, of course, but the cost of Solid Snake's exertion was all too real in retrospect. Nodding, he pulled off the VR goggles and stepped into the computer room. He shot a tired smirk to the lanky form that occupied the only chair in a massive rat's nest of wires and machinery. Otacon pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, grinning widely at his friend.
"Great job! Top ranking and optimum efficiency!" he congratulated before turning to input something into the main console that Snake couldn't decipher. He just couldn't figure computers.
"I got sloppy," he admitted gruffly in reply, stuffing a cigarette in his teeth and lighting it to take a long, lingering drag. "I'll have to do it again later."
"Tonight, Snake? But it's getting late already..."
"I don't see you winding down for sleep yet," he interrupted with the slight arch of an eyebrow, and the technician slumped slightly from the weighty truth of the words spoken as well as those in between.
"Otacon," Snake continued, "you've been tweaking this thing and programming new simulations nonstop for a week, without taking any time off aside from the occasional coffee break! At this rate you're going to burn out – you need your sleep."
"I know, I know... I just want to perfect the randomizer, but I guess I've been neglecting myself a bit," he answered with a sheepish smile to the soldier, who shook his head as he began unzipping the collar of his sneaking suit.
"Well, I'm going to go take a shower and relax for a while. I suggest you do the same, Otacon, once I'm done."
The seated man's eyes widened imperceptibly at his partner's back. What's that mean?! Do I smell or something? he thought, but shoved it aside and started to shut down the VR systems for the evening. The growing silence of his being alone, and now without a comfortable computer hum allowed his mind to move about more freely, and it moved to consider Snake, as he'd found himself in a habit of doing. Hal had noticed a slow change in his partner, but what exactly it had stemmed from, he couldn't really tell. Maybe it was stress, but it had been months since their last mission, and even that had been tied up quickly and with no loose ends.
Heading over to the living room, the engineer unpacked his laptop briefly to check on some recent downloads. He didn't want Snake to see these, as Hal wasn't sure if his hopes would pull through the tremendous odds against him on finding the information he so desperately needed. Ever since he'd been rescued from the hells in icy Alaska, he'd felt the need to repay his friend for what they had both experienced, the root of such horrors being his own creation of Metal Gear REX. He winced. Those weren't memories he ever wanted to conjure again. With memories came old wounds, old emotions... his ankle had never completely healed, but furthermore, neither had his heart. The loss of Wolf was a tremendous blow, and still he never disclosed everything that had been between them to his partner. It didn't matter, really; she was gone, he was left behind. He had to respect her decision and remember her for what she was.
Ah, there it was, the cascade of sadness accompanying such wistful recollections. His focus began to wander, so he set the computer to standby. The download could continue without him. Pushing up his glasses, Hal stopped halfway to remove them completely, and place them carefully on a fold-out table. A hand rose to rub at a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes as a wave of fatigue flowed through him, and the scientist decided that rest might be a good thing after all.
~~~
Some time later, feeling refreshed but still teetering over the edge to some sort of strange depression, Snake walked out of his bedroom clad in baggy jeans and a white sweatshirt. A cigarette already lit and dangling from his lips, he brushed back wet bangs behind his ears. Soft buzzing reached his ears, and he glanced over to see Otacon curled up on the couch in the living room, still in his lab coat and dead asleep. Sighing and shaking his head, the stealth reached for a folded-up blanket he kept stashed beneath a pillow, and draped it over the lanky scientist, then paused to consider him.
Wonder why he seemed to tightly wound before. Maybe he's still scared of me, the soldier mused. He took in a long breath of smoke, but was careful not to let anything drift too near his partner. Hell, everyone is. Why should he be an exception at all?
Because though you're always going to deny it, you hate being alone, a small voice hissed in his mind. You want to take care of him because there's no one else.
But there was Meryl, before, Dave argued with a bitter smile. Then again, she only knew you as the perfect soldier, and she's dead now. What makes you think the same won't happen to him?
It'll never happen, he answered himself, one hand clenching into a fist of defeat. Why did Otacon save him, almost three years ago now? It wasn't as if there was much to him worth saving. According to everyone, he was a selfish bastard. Everyone he'd ever become close to, his friends or otherwise, either disappeared completely or... well, was eventually killed. He smoked, he drank, and furthermore was getting old. Liquid had been right... he was drowning in time. He should have died then, sinking with the tanker that marked his first defeat. The Kid would have figured things out eventually... then again, maybe not. He hung his head, waving the cigarette back and forth in his teeth. He had to get away for a while... away from Otacon. Why? He had no idea.
"I need a drink," he concluded aloud, and walked out the door and into the chilly November air. It would rain soon, he observed.
~~~
The engineer yawned as he struggled to sit up, glancing at the blanket over him curiously. When had he grabbed it? Last he remembered, he'd simply collapsed onto the cushions out of pure exhaustion.
Dave? he thought, slim fingers running over the warm material. It was the soldier's blanket, all right, which explained the fact that it smelled like him. Furthermore, it made him realize that the stealth had probably left again to god-knew-where, and would likely return in the wee hours of the morning. Sighing, he peeled off the white lab coat still clinging like a loose second skin to his figure, and made a slow beeline for the bathroom.
"I really need a shower," he grumbled, becoming annoyed with nothing in particular and yet everything at once. Hal never liked tension.
~~~
An hour passed, then two, and time soon caught up with him, along with the rain he'd been trying to avoid. The shadowy figure huffed, prying himself away from an alley wall as his clothes, completely drenched, dripped off excess water and pulled his upper body down, down, down to a slump. He cursed avidly from between gritted teeth, so much that he dropped the last of his smokes from his mouth; it didn't matter though, as he didn't have the motivation to pick it up at the moment, or even at all. Blearily he blinked, looking around in order to regain and rediscover his bearings, sweatshirt hugging his shoulders in ragged shreds.
Snake raised a hand to support his head, groaning as he staggered forward. After a moment he spotted a familiar car, the graffiti-ridden blue dumpster, and a light on upstairs that was sure to be Hal's... it looked to be in the right place, so it had to be it. With a nod of relief he continued on, step by step through the endless halls of the complex, until he collapsed against the door after a feeble attempt at knocking.
Maybe he'd had too much to drink after all. He heard shuffling sounds inside, leading to the door, but by then Dave's world had gone black.
~~~
Hal had just emerged from the shower when he heard the knock on the door, and threw a pair of jeans on quickly before going to see who it was. After opening the door, it struck him that he was eternally grateful that he hadn't put on a shirt yet, as a rather drenched and inebriated Snake sagged into his arms. To the engineer's further shock, he was sporting a rather nasty bump on his temple as well.
"David?!" he exclaimed, and then corrected himself quickly. "S-snake? Are you all right? Snake, wake up! Come on!" But his only response was a low moan, setting the panic into motion. What in the world did you do?! he thought in desperation, crying out softly as the warm body in his arms suddenly became a dead weight. Thin as he was, Hal lacked the strength to hold Snake up on his own, and was thus forced to half-drag him to a nearby computer chair to set him down.
Only when Hal started patting his face gently did an eye of darkened jade blink open, narrowing to a slit from the unexpected brightness of the room. "...Otacon?"
"Snake!" he gasped in relief. "Are you all right?"
"Mmfine," the soldier slurred, waving a hand weakly and dismissively. "Hadda few margaritas... then that great bottle o' Smirnoff... s'all..."
"That's all?!" the other gaped in disbelief, eyebrows knitting in concern as he ran his fingers over the ugly knot on Snake's head. "Why didn't you call me? Did you fall over?"
But the older man shook his head, almost looking serious. "I knew y'were asleep... didn't want to call..." There was a pause as he tried to put together the pieces of his memories. "Got in a small bar brawl... punk kids landed a lucky punch..."
"Sh, just relax," Hal soothed, running to grab the blanket he'd discarded before. Snake watched in silence, then finally raised a hand to stop him.
"S'my own fault. I'll live."
"No D—Snake. You need to stay warm."
The drunk soldier's reply was a soft sneeze, and Hal managed a soft smile, taking the time of distraction to wrap the blanket around the soaked form before him.
"...you're worried about me?" he managed to say at last, rubbing his nose. He stared at the scientist carefully, eyes a bit clearer than before.
Somehow, it intimidated Hal. "Of course I am. You're my partner."
Snake's expression shifted slightly. "Hal, d'you consider me a friend?"
"Of course I do! What's this about, anyway?" This line of questioning reminded him distantly of an interrogation, and some of his annoyance from before bubbled to the surface. "You've been acting really odd lately."
"..." He wasn't sure how to either take that or respond to it, and decided to merely stare at the smaller man blankly. Long silence rolled on and on, until finally the scientist gave in with a shake of his head.
"Fine. Don't answer. Just... get some rest, okay? You look like you'll need it." That said, he handed him a second blanket and headed off to the kitchen without another word. The soldier felt a pang of guilt at brushing him off like that, but he didn't feel like spilling his guts quite yet. Especially considering he himself didn't quite know what was bothering him. He had half a mind to do some more training, but he'd likely be sluggish in his current state of mind, and decided against it. A glance fell to the blanket in his hand, and he pulled it over himself reluctantly, figuring the massive hangover he'd get in a few hours was well-deserved.