A/N: After reading Solid Snake's Soldier's oneshot 'Simple and Clean', I was contacted handily by my muses, who collectively demanded of me that I write up a Snake's POV companion to the story. In turn, I spoke with the author herself, who has very graciously given me permission to go ahead with the project, try as I might not to demolish the amazing emotions she portrayed in the original work. At the same time, I've seen a need to extend the introduction into a sort of reflection, to warrant my toying with the story. All apologies if it turns out like 'End of an Era', but seeing as that's my only work of this type, you must excuse me. This will not ruin any of the original dialogue, so that will be kept verbatim. Other than all of that, I have nothing much to say about it. So, please, sit back and enjoy 'Dare You to Move'.
Dare You to Move
It took a while for me to get over the fact that I was actually dying. It all just seemed... surreal. From the day Naomi told me I was essentially on my deathbed until now, I struggled to try and come to terms with what would be coming next in this three-ring circus of a life. I guess that when I finally do, it'll be something like a relief. Until then, I suppose I'm alright with the acrid depression I've settled into – including the bouts of insomnia.
Sleepless nights and restless days did nothing for my physical state, though. I could feel my body just getting weaker and weaker with each day that passed. It wasn't too much longer before I started to actually look forward to the 'long sleep'. The feeling awakened thoughts I had tried to bury beneath the sands of time after meeting Otacon.
Scratch that. I had succeeded in getting rid of them after meeting Hal.
Even now, he was uselessly trying to tend to me, trying to force me to live a longer life than what had apparently been planned out for me. If I could garner the strength to do it, I'd probably laugh at him. But, then again, I don't think I'd be able to watch him go into further despair about it. I had lost the heart to do that when we learned I was dying. Even though I had done it for a good thirteen years since Shadow Moses, I just couldn't anymore. Those sad eyes and brittle smiles were too precious to break, and if I laughed at him now, it'd probably kill me – on principle no less.
Even through his weak façade, I knew that he was an impossibly tough bastard, to have gone through all of what he did and still maintain that air of a calm and collected man. He had been pushed to the brink more times than either of us really care to count, and yet, every single time he came to that point, he always returned stronger, and more resilient than ever. Now that I think of it, Hal was probably the better half of Philanthropy. Definitely stronger than I was, or even than I had ever been. Whereas I pulled through on instinct and more of my fair share of luck, he did it on the back of tears that he cried and the fears he held – not to mention some form of bizarre innate inner strength that I could only think of as being the remnants of so many lost loves in his life.
I always remember back to Shadow Moses, and the first time we had met. He was a weapons designer for the corporation ARMStech. I was sent in to rescue a few hostages, but that had quickly become scrapped after both died and revealed to me that there was a Metal Gear on the base. Hal was the one who designed most of it, so I was forced to go and find him and question him. It was after explaining to me that he had no clue what the Metal Gear was for that he launched on his family's sob story.
His grandfather was a major player in the Manhattan Project, and his father was born on the day of the Hiroshima bomb-dropping. A few years later, he finally revealed that his father died, drowning in the family pool while he was in the house with his stepmother. That's when he lost contact with his stepsister. And then, after telling me and the kid Raiden that – on the very same day, no less – she died while trying to stop a technological menace. I never looked back after that day. I knew I had to stick by him. Make sure nothing happened to anyone else he cared about. Of course, that meant sticking uncomfortably close to him. He kept saying something about it, but it escapes me now. Probably a remark about how I like him or something. Bah.
I still don't really think that I'm a suitable friend after all these years. Just thinking about all the times I got on his case is proof enough of that one. Then, Naomi came out with the news, and I found myself constantly trying to push him away, battering his mind mercilessly with insults. Of course, the fool stayed here, by my side. He even sent Sunny away to stick close without worrying about her wellbeing. The damned idiot. She was the one he should be focusing on. Not me. I'm in no shape to be any help to him, and still he's here wasting the time he has on me. An old and useless killer. He's killing his own self to care for someone who's already dying.
It's touching, but I wish that he'd leave me alone. Just let me die. Let me get away from this world. The world that doesn't need me anymore. I'm just a relic; someone without a use anymore. Leave me behind.
--
I had finally just found a nice and peaceful sleep when something just had to go and screw that up. It wasn't something in the room with me. That much I knew. No, it was more like a smell. Something drifting from the kitchen. Chocolate.
I looked over to the digital alarm clock on the nightstand close by. 6:41 AM. What in the world was Otacon doing? Not wanting to worry about it too much, I just tried to go back to sleep. Not like I could actually keep it from happening; my eyes were trying to close even before I told them to.
When I opened my eyes again, Otacon was standing over me, a hand on my shoulder. I had somehow come to be sitting upright, and I supposed that he'd been at it awhile – that had been clear as day from the alarmed gape he was giving me. The images in my eyes were foggy, so I blinked a few times in order to clear them up. It didn't help much, but every little bit counted.
It was then that Otacon's gape turned into a smile. He was grinning at me for some reason, looking like a dolt. Why he was smiling at me was a complete mystery. I don't know why, but it looked condescending; I didn't pursue any explanations. I was too exhausted to care.
I muttered something that even I couldn't hear, and Otacon snapped out of whatever haze he was in.
"Good morning, Dave! I've got something for you!"
I began to think about how it might not have been such a good thing to clue him into my real name; I think it attached him further to me.
His tone sounded exactly as condescending as his grin had been, almost as if he was forcing himself to be happy. Probably was, too. I gave him one of those sneers that told him exactly how I felt about that.
"Stop treating me as if I've got a ribbon around my neck. I'm not your pet."
I couldn't stop the scathing words from exiting my mouth, even if I had wished them to be a bit nicer. It was then that I thought about how I resembled a small animal, trying to push away help while trying to lick my wounds.
There's that stupid grin again, getting wider.
"I know you're not. You're my friend, and I've come bearing a gift. Take it," he said. I had completely ignored what he had said after 'Good morning, Dave.' Now, however, it caught my attention. I couldn't understand why, but I had missed the silver platter he held in his left hand. I cursed my loss of attentiveness silently while inspecting the contents of the tray.
Two insanely large cupcakes. I couldn't tell what flavor they were, underneath a small figurine that I couldn't make out over this distance and loads of sure-to-be-sugary blue icing. Calling on my failing memory, I realized that these were the scents drifting from the kitchen. Looking more closely at the tray, I noticed bright strips of confetti paper had lined the bottom of it.
The reason for the cupcakes completely escaped me at that moment, and I suppose it showed, because when I looked at him, that smile got even wider, and just that much more fake.
When he didn't answer the silent version of the question, I decided that a more verbal approach was going to be necessary.
"What's this for?" I asked him.
The fake smile still persisted and I noticed a moist glint in his eye. Damned guy was going to cry on me again. Time for damage control.
I tried to soften my gaze as he explained.
"It's for your birthday! Today's your birthday, Dave, and I thought I'd do something special."
That one hit me like a bombshell. Definitely not what I expected. I thought it may have been something that I did, but this was something different altogether. I eyed the cupcakes as if they could have been poisoned. Not that I thought they were. I was just curious.
Slowly, I lift my hand and take the cupcake that was apparently meant for me. I made sure to gently remove the figurine atop the icing. Gazing deeply at the sea of blue sugar, I murmured, "No one's given me a birthday before."
For some reason, my words seemed to have the exact opposite effect on Otacon than my intentions had hoped for.
"Well..." he began. I could tell he was hyperventilating just by watching his rapid breathing."I thought I'd... I thought I'd give you one. Happy... happy b-b-birthday!"
I had a sneaking suspicion that he knew that his stuttering wasn't doing much for either of our moods. He began to break down, and I became more tired with every passing moment. I realized that I wasn't going to hold out for much longer. This exhaustion far surpassed what I considered 'normal'. I've got to fight it. At least for his sake. I'm not so heartless to leave him hanging.
It was then that I took notice of the plastic figurine in my hand, as I searched for something to take my mind off of his heaving and my dying. I recognized it from one of the cartoons he had me watching. It was from the show called 'Gundam Wing', one of the shows I had actually come to respect. The toy looked familiar, and in moments, I placed it.
"This is the Gundam Epyon," I said, echoing my thoughts.
Otacon gave me one of those creepy smiles from the corner of his mouth and he replied, "So?"
The character who piloted the machine I held in my hand pissed me off to no end, and I knew that Otacon knew that. "The pilot of this Gundam turned out to be an idiotic, selfish, whining bastard. You couldn't give me Sandrock?"
It had almost made me laugh, how much I ended up describing myself in that sentence. I made myself sound like the fool I was talking about!
Otacon gasped, more than loud enough for even my failing ears to pick up on. Looking up at him, I spotted the streaks of tears rolling down. Before I can say a word to chide him, he begins again.
"Well, I... I... uh... I'm sorry, Dave. I just thought... well, you remind me so much of Heero, and... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."
There was the babbling. Damage control wasn't working. I needed to step up my game. Sighing inwardly, I began to inspect the cupcake again. It was nice and springy underneath my grasp.
"Did you make this?" I asked, trying my hardest to be nice. After all, he was trying to be nice.
"Y-y-yes, I did. Why?" he asked me. He never changed. He was still that very same self-conscious man I met thirteen years ago.
I tried to smile convincingly. I supposed it worked – he looked relieved. I told him, "Nice job," adding, "And which one do you have?" as an afterthought.
"I... I... I g-g-gave myself Nataku. I... you know I've always admired Wufei. He's... a lot stronger than I am."
I held back a deep sigh while trying not to outright glower at his lack of self-trust. I also hold back from telling him that he's the stronger between us. It would cause more problems than it would solve. Meanwhile, I give him one of those eyeings that I knew he would pick up the meaning of. It was an eyeing that I had given him hundreds of times over, now.
After another moment, I told him, "I'm not hungry, Hal."
I hadn't meant to call him by his name, but I felt my mind starting to leave me. Otacon's smile, which before then, I didn't think could get any faker, did. I didn't have the heart to replace the cupcake, though.
He was shaking visibly as he spoke. I didn't know if I was losing more patience or gaining more sympathy for him.
"Please... p-p-please try some. I... I know I'm asking too much of you, but I'd... I would appreciate it. Please?" he asked me.
I couldn't drag myself to disagree with him. My stomach had already started to growl angrily at me, telling me not to put that thing in my mouth. But with my time running out as it was, my friend overruled my body by miles. For a few seconds, I stared the pastry down, trying to decide whether or not it would bite back. I decided that it probably wouldn't.
Unwrapping the baker's paper from the confection, I took a small nibble at the chocolate cupcake. It was absolutely delicious. It was moist and airy, the definition of what a cake should be. If it wasn't for the mouthful of cupcake I had tying up my tongue, I would have repeated my earlier compliment. I only wished then that I would be able to digest the damn thing without immense pain.
Otacon still hadn't even taken a bite yet, but as soon as he saw me look, he began to start on his own.
After we finish, I hazard a glance at the alarm clock. 7:05 AM. The stomach pains had already began to threaten me.
Otacon fiddled with something behind him and he pulled out a box, wrapped.
"Here," he said. He looked incredibly sad, tears still flowing down. As much as I may feel like it, I don't want to start babying him now. He still needs me. I can hold on for just about as long as he needs me.
"Open it," he said, motioning to the box. I didn't really want to know what was in it, and he prods, "It's your present."
At his request, I took the gift. It felt light for its size, but I could tell that there was something in it. Besides, Otacon was too nice to play a trick like that on my deathbed. He knew that I'd come back and kick his ass if he even tried it. I smiled inwardly at my own joke, and opened the box. Within the folds of tissue paper lied something in gold. It looked like a crest of some sort. It had an engraving at the top of it, reading "Hero, legend and friend'.
I looked at it in complete awe. I hadn't expected anything even remotely close to this at all today, and here he is, surprising me even more. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was beginning to cry yet again.
Inspecting the badge, I spot a small mechanism. As I pushed it, the locket opened and revealed a picture of Otacon, smiling and waving. It was an old picture, showing the engineer in his younger days.
"It's... it's me," he said, redundantly. "That's me... when I was a little boy. I hope... you'll keep it with you... s-s-so you won't forget me."
At that point, I had had just about enough of his babbling, but I knew he meant well. I glared at him in good nature, and he finally took that dumb grin off his face.
"I'll never forget you, Hal," I told him, trying my hardest to reassure him without being gruff. A new wave of tears appeared. I sighed before taking action. With my left hand, I reached up to Otacon's face and brushed the wetness off. I had definitely had enough of his crying.
Taking notice of my hand, he grabbed it and held it. At any other time, I would have immediately pulled back, but I didn't care at this point. I was too far gone.
"How could I forget you, after everything you've been through?" The question had come out of nowhere. I guess I was better at this 'sympathy' thing than I had ever thought.
"After everything I've been through? Weren't we a team, Dave?"
"Yeah, well... I put you through Hell on more than one occasion. You deserve a Nobel Peace Prize." I made it a point to rid him of more of those pesky tears.
He laughed. That sounded good to me, simply because it was the first time in years that I had heard it. "You weren't a chore. I...I liked being with you back then. I still like being with you. You're my friend," he told me.
Immediately, I knew my face had darkened considerably. "Not too many people say that," I replied. It touched me that he was still ready to take care of me.
"I know. I know. I do, though. Is that... enough?"
"It's more than enough, you dim-witted anime junkie."
He smiled. I knew that meant that he caught the joke. "Hey! You watched them with me!" he said, mocking indignation.
"Only because you forced me to! I'm your hostage, for cryin' out loud!"
"You talk as if I've been torturing you!" Even as he said those words, I felt a sudden wheeze escape my lungs.
"You have been torturing me! You only dragged me out here because no one else wants to watch your meaningless cartoons!"
Then the wheeze became coughing. A lot of it. The only thing that kept me going still was Otacon sitting there, trying to calm it all down. When it ended, it felt like an eternity of nothing but coughing had passed. A few more moments passed before Otacon said anything, sounding regretful as always.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have started anything. I don't want you over-working yourself any more."
"You apologize too much," I try to reassure him through still-wheezing breaths. "There's no need to apologize if you haven't done anything. It doesn't make sense. You put up with me longer than you should have. You didn't deserve any of this."
I knew that he didn't believe me. He never did when I told him things like that. Even if I meant it whole-heartedly, like I did then.
"Don't say things like that! I wasn't forced to look after you! I wanted to stay with you! I wanted to be with you! I still want to be with you!"
I tried to sigh, but caught myself before allowing it out. I looked at him, trying to stare into his eyes. It didn't make any sense to me why he would want to. Letting it go, I simply chuckle mirthlessly.
"You're an idiot. You've wasted so much time... on an old killer."
"Yes I'm an idiot, but you're my friend! My hero! You mean everything to me, and I don't regret anything! I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you!"
Another inward sigh came to my mind. Letting that go too, I looked at him as evenly as I possibly could while still wearing a smile.
"I can't think of anyone else that would say that bullshit to me," I said to him. I knew he didn't want to hear that, but then again, it was the truth. I tried to keep my eyes open, but they were failing to comply, just like the rest of my body. My voice became a whisper, when I wanted to speak normally to my friend. "You're the only one that's ever treated me like a human. A living, breathing man." And that was the truth, too. He knew it.
Again, he cried. I swore that it was useless trying to keep the man dry. Might as well stick a diaper on his eyes and call it a day. Instead of saying that, however, I simply keep wiping the skin beneath his eyes.
"Don't leave me. Please... please don't leave me. Don't leave me, Dave. Don't leave me," he babbles again. "Please don't leave me. You're all I have. Please don't leave me."
I couldn't comply to his request, but I tried to muster the strength to, anyway. My body's weakness was finally taking its toll. My breathing was shallow. I could hardly gain enough air to sustain myself. And yet, I found myself oddly at peace, something I had been wishing for forever. I didn't know whether to follow my friend, or this newfound feeling trying to blissfully work its way into my tired old body.
Putting on a smile, I tried to pull myself together for a few last seconds. Even if it would break him, I needed to tell him something. In my whisper, I told him, "You'll live. You'll live... to torment someone else with your shitty movies. You'll live... to become s-s-someone else's friend. You'll live... and you won't need me anymore." The stuttering had finally been transferred to me. More blissful sleepiness descended. I fought, shuddering with the effort. I knew it was in vain. I needed those last few seconds.
"No! That's not true! That's not true at all! I don't want to live without you! I don't want you to leave me! I don't want to lose anyone else I care for! Not again! Not anymore!"
His voice sounded like it was far away, even though he was practically screaming in my ear. I needed to fight even harder than I had it in me to to finally tell him my final words. I was glad that he was the one to be there when I spoke them. My best friend in life. I owed it to him anyway.
"Thanks for the party. Thanks for always being there. As far as I'm concerned, you saved my life." I knew he was crying, but I couldn't care less, as long as I was able to speak. Just a few more seconds. "Thanks... for being my friend. I won't ever forget you, but... I hope you'll forget me."
At that moment, I knew I was dead. Not because I couldn't hear Otacon's frantic sobs, but because I was finally in complete peace. I knew Hal would find a way to continue living, and my last wish had only been half-hearted. I knew he wasn't anywhere near forgetting me. It was rediculous to even request such a thing. Oh well. At least the better of us two would live to tell the tale.
A/N: Just to clarify, I didn't feel that it would be right to continue on when the person whose POV I was using died. So, that's the end of it. Thanks all who read. But, in a wink and a nod tribute to Solid Snake's Soldier, I shall request that you listen to "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot for this piece. It's the one that I was listening to when I was writing this, and it seemed to fit almost perfectly (thus having the piece titled after the song - another tribute to SSS!). Well, once again, thanks all, especially SSS for allowing me to do this, and I bid you;
Be Happy - Python