Info: PG, Snake/Otacon, extreme Hal-centric, spoilers up to and including MGS4, and a crossover with Neil Gaiman's Sandman series. Prior knowledge not necessary (I hope). Just know that each one of the Endless is a sort of personification of something humans deal with: Death, Desire, Despair, Destruction, Dream, Destiny, Delirium/Delight, and Destruction.

That out of the way: Onwards!

1. Dream
"Dreams are nothing, my brother." "Dreams are 'nothing', sister? Without dreams there could be no Despair."

At MIT, Hal's running finally caught up to him.

It was perhaps too much for one young man to handle. It takes a lot out of you, trying to escape from a death, a betrayal, and the hurt eyes of someone who trusted you. It was enough to make even the strongest of men weary.

So, Hal slept. He slept for days, unable to work up the willpower to make it to class on time. Things were safer in the world behind his eyelids. There was less to worry about. His dreams were as peaceful as his waking hours were not. He wasn't keen on leaving the refuge built of unconsciousness and too many blankets.

One night, deep within his slumber, a man approached him, standing out like a sore thumb. Hal dreamed in vibrant pastel colors. This man was seemingly formed from shards of black and white glass, sharp with no middle ground. He was otherworldly in an already otherworldly environment. It hurt to look at him.

"You have spent much time in my realm," the glass man said, folding his arms. His face was set in a frown, but Hal got the distinct impression that he was not capable of any other expression.

Hal stared up at this man that was blocking out the warm colors of his imagined world. "Who are you?"

"That depends. I am often called Dream, though I answer to other names as well."

"I didn't know anyone else was here," Hal said quietly.

"You think you have the power to form all this in your mind with no aid?" Dream shook his head, the shift of his twisted black hair making the movement look exaggerated. "It is my sand you use to build your castles, Hal."

"Should I... thank you then? Or apologize? I'm sorry, I've never spoken to an anthropomorphism of an abstract idea before."

"Either would be appropriate, but are not necessary." Dream's black eyes pierced Hal's like diamonds. "And to call me abstract wouldn't be accurate. I am as solid as you are." To demonstrate, he offered his hand to Hal.

Hal looked at it, but did not take it. "This is all in my head. You being a physical mass in my dream- or, erm, our dream- that doesn't pertain to reality."

One thin, dark eyebrow rose on Dream's face. "You believe this is less real than the wakening?"

Hal couldn't think of a reply to that. He didn't have to; folding like origami, Dream lowered himself onto the emerald grass next to Hal. Everything around them suddenly seemed dimmer, as if Dream absorbed light itself.

"You cannot stay here indefinitely, Hal."

Hal's eyes dropped to the ground. "Are you sure?"

Dream nodded his head. "I know what you are hiding from. My sister, Despair, has told me your story. It is a piteous tale and I know why you hide, but the Dreaming cannot protect you forever." His hand dipped to the ground and tugged a handful of grass free. The blades held for just a moment before dissolving into dusty grains in the man's palm. "It is like wet sand. You can try to force it to keep this form, to pretend it is something else, but in the end, this place is just a false world. You should let it go before a wave crashes in and tears it out from under you."

Hal watched the sand slip from Dream's fingers, back onto the grass between them. "I should leave at my own will instead of letting reality- I mean, the outside world force me out. Is that what you mean?"

Dream nodded once and stood, the crane returning to a creaseless white sheet. "You have spent too much time in my domain. My siblings are expecting you. It would be unfair to let you hold up here." The Sandman turned away, walking out of the dream, one wave of his hand biding Hal farewell.

2. Destruction
"They're like knives or clubs. The patterns are different, but the purpose of the object is obvious."

At Shadow Moses, Hal was working late into the night, ignoring the niggling sensation behind his eyes that urged him to lay down and get some sleep. The draw of rest was weak to a man like him, so set in his work. He was sitting on one of REX's feet, tools spread around him like fallen leaves. Black grease coated his hands and even some of his sleeves as he fought with a panel in REX's armor. The metal plate was stubbornly refusing to lay flat with its brethren, leaving REX with an unbalanced foot. It was hard enough convincing her to walk without an uneven distribution of weight to deal with.

He could sleep tomorrow anyway. After he met the deadline for President Baker's inspection.

"Why do you have to fight me, REX?" Hal murmured to the machine, trying to line up the panel again. "This is for your own good." His voice was soft and loving, akin to the way a mother would speak to their child.

"She's just a tad nervous is all."

There were steps behind him, echoing off the floor. Hal looked up to see a giant in his midst. In the grey of the metal, concrete, and ineffectual lighting, this man almost glowed with warm, from his tanned skin to his auburn hair to the fire-red of his eyes. He was dressed in comfortable looking civvies- jeans and a simple white tee. His black combat boots were scuffed and worn, like he'd been walking the length of the world.

"I suppose she has right to be," Hal pushed up his glasses and leaned back to gaze up at his metal colossus. "Tomorrow's an important day. Baker's supposed to be bringing some weapons specialists to see her."

"How do you think she'll do?"

Hal grinned. "Look at her. She can't disappoint." He stopped and turned back to his work. "Well, provided she lets me fix her leg."

"Looks like you could use an extra hand," the visitor said, joining Hal by REX's ankle. "You should have help with this kind of grunt work."

"Don't I wish. The rest of the team is..." Hal blinked at the man. "Oh, are you offering?"

The man just chuckled and nodded.

They worked in tandem: lifting the panel, sliding it in place, making sure the connection was seamless, and bolting it in place. In a few short minutes, REX's armor was again perfect and impenetrable.

Hal ran his hand over the cool metal approvingly. "Thank you for the help."

The man nodded, smiling. "My pleasure. It's reward enough to see her good and whole."

Hal turned his smirk to his helper. "You understand her like I do."

The visitor's smile became sad. "I fear I understand her more than you do, Dr. Emmerich."

Indignation rose fast in Hal, but his protests died on his lips as he stared into the man's eyes, into certainty there. He'd seen eyes like those before. "What are you?"

"Your opposite." Destruction's gaze returned upward, to REX. "She will break your heart, Doctor."

"She's going to do great things," Hal defended.

"Great does not mean good," Destruction replied chidingly. He clapped a hand on Hal's shoulder. "It'll all work out though. Have hope." Without another word, Destruction turned and left, fading into the shadowy corners of the hangar.

3. Destiny
Destiny continues to walk. He is holding a book. Inside the book is the Universe.

Hal was dreaming again. A short respite, he assured the Sandman, just until he could move past what had happened in Shadow Moses and figure out what to do next.

Dream had nodded once, just a slight decline of his head. "I hope I don't have to repeat myself and tell you hiding away here would be foolish."

Hal waved a dismissive hand. "Not hiding, I promise. Just thinking."

"Well then. I'll leave you to it." Dream departed through a door. Hal noticed vaguely that Dream's footsteps made no noise and the rustle of his robes sounded like a sharp wind in a desert. Strange, but not worth contemplating for long.

Hal sighed, his arms on his knees as he looked out over his dream. What once was emerald hills and shock-blue skies was now dimmer, painted in a more realistic style than before. He couldn't say he was too pleased with that, but his days of color gels and sakura were over with, he figured.

The door was still there. Its continued presences roused Hal out of his aesthetic pondering. He stared at it. Actually, to call it a door was generous; it seemed to be nothing more than a rectangle cut out of his dream. It hung suspended just a foot off the ground, not floating or bobbing in midair, just there, as if permanent.

Hal pushed himself to his feet and approached it. "Dream? Did you forget to... take... your.... door with you?" He waved a hand over the threshold of the door. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath and poked his head through, eyes tightly shut.

The smell of flowers was thick in the air. Hal cracked one eye open, then relaxed, taking in the new world he'd stumbled upon. It was a courtyard, an almost excessively beautiful one. There were birds singing in the marble fountain, smooth cobblestones twining paths around bushes, flowers absolutely everywhere.

Hal sneezed. It was like a step into a allergen convention. His eyes already hurt. He turned back to go back to his nice hypoallergenic cherry blossom hill, but the door was gone, only more flowers and fountains in it's place.

"Oh, well... that's not good." He sneezed again.

"You'll only be here a while," said a voice like a heavy fog. "Dream will be here once he notices you've gone astray."

Hal looked to the speaker, a man tall and shrouded in a cloak. A book lay open in his hands, bound to his wrist with a long chain. As soon as he lay eyes on the book, Hal found himself unable to look away.

"What are you reading?"

"You already know, Hal Emmerich. Don't play down your intelligence. You have already met two of my younger brothers. You know who I am." Destiny's eyes did not move from the book. He turned a page slowly.

"I do, yeah." Hal walked over to join Destiny on the path. The man was tall and the book was just out of Hal's line of sight. He considered standing on his toes or craning his neck to get a better view, but decided against it. He didn't want to be too acquainted with tempting fate. "Can I ask you something?"

"You may, but I may not be able to answer."

"Makes sense." Hal rubbed his eyes, sighing. "I'm a little lost. I know I want to do something to... to atone for my naivety and the terrible things it has wrought. I just... have no idea how to go about that."

Destiny didn't speak for a long moment. Then, his words poured out like a shallow stream: "Your life is not going to be an easy one, Hal Emmerich. You are going to experience pain others can only imagine. You are weak now, but in the coming years you will be tempered into unbreakable steel. You will hate it at times, but it is your duty. Your time in Alaska has set into motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped, though you will try. You will provide hope to those who have none and while your life shall be a dangerous one, the moments of joy will shine brightly for you and will guide your feet." Destiny looked askance at Hal, eyes milky white and unseeing. "Go find David. You and he have much to do. Great things." Destiny's gaze returned to his book. "Right on time, sibling," he said in the same quiet, disinterested tone.

Hal was snapped out of his trance by Dream's hand on his shoulder. "I hope he hasn't interrupted you, Destiny."

Destiny continued along his cobblestone path. "No. I was expecting him."

"Of course," Dream muttered, and it was the closest Hal ever heard of humor from him, that slight bite of sarcasm. "Time to go, Hal."

Hal watched Destiny's cloak vanish around a hedge. "Yes. It is."

4. Death
"When the first living thing existed, I was there, waiting. When the last living thing dies, my job is finished. I'll put the chairs on the chairs on the tables, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave."

"Hello, Hal."

The groceries in Hal's arms spilled out of his grip and onto the floor.

"I see you know me," Death said, a kind smile curving her black lips.

He did. He didn't realize it until he saw the petite goth sitting in his living room, but he knew that face, those eyes, and that beatific smile. Hal had seen her many times before out of the corner of his eye: ten years ago, six, and just under a year ago. She was a harbinger of sorrow perched in his peripherals.

Not so much anymore, he thought distantly, staring as the woman curled up on his sofa.

"Hey, now, don't freak out." Death held up her hands in a calming gesture. "I'm not here for you. I just thought you and I should have a talk."

"A talk." Hal was finding it difficult to form words around the icy fear gripping his throat. "I don't want to talk to you." He stooped the pick up the fallen bags.

Death stood and helped him, piling food back into the brown paper, even taking one to the kitchen. "I know. You'd rather never see me again. Most people only meet me when it's their time to go, but you..." She shrugged. "I think it's because Dream and Destruction couldn't resist meeting you. You can't stop seeing us now."

"I'd prefer it if I could," Hal replied sullenly, starting to put his purchases away in the cabinets. "What do you want?"

Death's smile slipped and she sighed. "You can guess why I'm here. I should have stopped by weeks ago, but..." She reached out and grabbed Hal's wrist, halting his movements. "I am not as heartless as you think. I know what this is going to do to you."

"Best to do it fast then. Like a band-aid."

"Hal, David's death is not a band-aid."

A pause. "I know." Hal took off his glasses and cleaned them on with the hem of his sweater. "I just want... I wish this got easier. I wish this was the sort of thing I got good at dealing with."

"Wants and wishes you should bring up with Desire." Death's voice grew quieter, more conspiratorial. "I can promise you one thing, Hal. This one's the last. Next time you see me, you'll have long stopped dying your hair black," she said fondly, tugging on a lock of his hair. "It's the last, but I know it's going to hurt the most."

"If you are so compassionate about this, then why? After all we've been through-"

"After all he's been through, Hal."

Hal shut his eyes, taking a deep breath, slow and shaky. "I-I know. I realize how selfish I am."

"Hal..." Death took his hand, squeezing it tight. "It'll be all right."

Feather soft, "It doesn't feel like it."

"It's okay. It probably won't for a little while."

Hal chuckled hollowly. "I wish you weren't so damn nice about this. I'd like to hate you."

"I know." Death took a step back, keeping her tight hold of Hal's hand. "Come on."

Hal let himself be lead down the hallway to Dave's room. They both stood outside the door, Death waiting for Hal to make the next move. He tipped his head back, blinking hard until his vision cleared, then nodded once to his companion.

Death smiled and opened the door. "Dave, wake up. It's time to go."

5. Desire
"What do you want from me?" "Everything. What else is there to want?"

"You don't want to go to MIT like your old man?"

Sunny laughed, clear as bells, over the line. "I think going to get an engineering degree would be redundant at this point. Maybe I could just walk up to the dean and show them Mark Four? That's got to be worth a lot of credit hours."

Hal hummed, fussing with his gloves. It was bitterly cold outside and his surrogate daughter's voice only warmed him so much. "I see your point, but medicine? Really?" He pulled a face, even though Sunny couldn't see it.

"Uncle Hal," she said with exasperation. "With nanomachines becoming more and more common in the field, techies and mech people like us are in high demand. It's pretty much perfect for me."

"Medicine is a soft science. Not just that, but it's a soft science with sick people."

"I'll take immunity boosters. Is this going to be a thing with you?"

"It's not going to be a thing."

"Are you sure? Because you have a habit of getting all, you know."

"Yes, Sunny," Hal assured her with infinite patience. "I just worry about... about..."

"Uncle Hal?"

Hal was standing still in the middle of a crosswalk. Not the wisest position to be in, but he was too focused on the eyes watching him from the shadow of a broken streetlight. Eyes that glowed gold in the night.

"Sunny, I'll call you back." Hal tapped the earpiece, cutting the call before tugging the bud off his ear. His attention was already elsewhere, focused like a laser on the owner of the gold eyes, a tall, lean, beautiful figure in a fine suit. The person's face was angular and smooth, but the lack of feminine curves confused Hal. The only certain thing was that the sight of this person made his heart twist in a way that he was intimately familiar with, but that he had not felt in many years.

The person crooked a finger at Hal, beckoning him to join.... her, Hal decided. Must be female. No man had such a graceful way of holding himself. He shifted his satchel on his shoulder and finished crossing the street, standing next to the woman.

"I know you," Hal said in way of greeting.

"And I, you." She lifted a hand to his cheek, looking deep into his eyes. "It's been too long."

"I beg to differ," Hal said with a deep sadness. "I hoped to never have to deal with you again." His brow furrowed. "I think you owe me an explanation."

Desire laughed. It was a pleasant enough sound, but Hal flinched upon hearing it. "I owe you nothing, dear boy. You owe me everything." She patted his cheek before setting off down the street. Hal hurried to follow. Smoke and steam curled around them, nearly obscuring the city they walked through. Hal made sure to follow Desire's steps closely.

"Was it a joke for you? I have heard that your cruelty surpasses even your twin's." Hal's word were dark with a long restrained anger.

"You have spent too much time in Dream's company. Don't believe everything that fool tells you." Desire looked over at Hal and her smirk faded into something less harsh. She linked her arm in Hal's, making his throat clench painfully. God, he was sick of that feeling, the deep knot of want in his chest. It only lead to tears.

"Then why? I am old enough to know when I've been screwed and by whom."

"Hal, Hal, Hal. My dear sweet boy. You know nothing, even after all these years." She placed a hand on her chest. "I was not your undoing. You were. All I did was give you what you wanted."

"Heartbreak and tears were not what I wanted," Hal pointed out.

"But a love of your own was." Desire locked her gold eyes with Hal's own grey. "You are a rare specimen of humanity, dear. When you love, you do it completely, with all of your heart. You don't hold back. That is both incredibly foolish and... incredibly enticing." She grinned. "I can hardly be blamed for giving you what you wanted. I didn't expect a boy so badly burned to play with fire again. It's almost as if... You know what they say the definition of insanity is?"

Hal didn't answer, mulling over Desire's words. His anger leaked out of him like a sieve, leaving just dregs of foolishness.

"Now I know what you're thinking. Wondering if you shouldn't have loved him so thoroughly. That's pointless to think about. What's past is past, all just old pages in Destiny's book. It was all just part of your nature." She pulled Hal's elbow down, tipping him forward just enough to be able to press a loving kiss to his mouth. "People like you are why I exist, Hal. Every mortal spends time with each of us, but you were always mine."

He straightened and adjusted his glasses. Years ago, such a gesture would've made his face flush. It didn't now, as if he'd overworked that instinct to the point of atrophy, rendering it useless. "So," Hal said at length, "'tis better to have loved and lost'..."

"'Than never to have loved at all,' yes, precisely." Desire released her hold on his arm. "This is the last we'll be seeing of each other in this lifetime. You've made yourself into quite the little widower." The kindness in her eyes eased the hurt of her words. "It's been fun, Hal."

"If you say so." Hal pushed up his glasses. "Goodbye, Desire."

Desire waved her hand jauntily, walking into the thick mist, vanishing from view.

A second passed. A hard gust of winter air blew past Hal. He shut his eyes and shielded his face with a gloved hand. When the breeze died, the world was clear again, and Hal found himself outside the front door of his home.

Desire was nowhere to be found and that suited Hal just fine.