(Hello again. Author here. Nobody's reading this, and yet I write anyways.
Sigh. Moving on, let's advance the story some.)
Divide and Conquer
And so it was confirmed. According to the doctor, Meryl 'Smithson' was without a doubt pregnant. Further testing would be required to find out the sex of the child and other such things, but that could all wait. It was only about a month into the process however, and so there was plenty of time to think of the future and what it could hold.
Yet Snake certainly begged to differ. Here he was, suddenly having this shit sprung upon him right out of the blue. Moreover, he didn't know quite what to feel. Anger, for not being told sooner, joy for the fact that he was to be a father...he didn't have the faintest idea. Rather, every emotion he could possibly comprehend, and a great deal that he couldn't, were mixing up within him. What resulted was a man torn apart, wrought with inner turmoil to the point where his external shell was little more than a glacial wall of indifference to the world around. A cold, icy husk of a man with eyes so empty they were little more than circular voids. Complete and total apathy . . . the old Solid Snake, in mind and body.
Meryl had taken none too kindly to this, and responded by shutting herself out of her unofficial husband's life in turn. It was a cycle of iciness, where one's indifference simply fueled that of the other.
For days they were like this, simply waking up, going about their business whilst subtly avoiding the other, and sleeping in separate places. The couch for Snake, Meryl remained in the bed. Nothing was shared except for food, which was even eaten at different times just to avoid seeing the other. Their own little cold war, both more afraid of blinking first than of what would happen if this kept up.
Snake simply sat on the couch, and glanced over to the digital clock's bright red numbers. Nearly three AM. A sigh to himself, followed by placing his forehead into his hands. This just wasn't right. He and Meryl had been through hell, and yet some bad . . . no, not even bad news simply splits them down the middle like butter. Something had to be done, but what? He couldn't simply up and apologize, he wasn't at fault here. He didn't even recall entirely too much sex with Meryl, let alone unprotected sex. It was impossible, but then- he shook the thought out of his mind, deciding to pay more heed to it at a later date. Perking up slightly as an idea crossed his mind, Snake got up, and made for the phone.
Meryl meanwhile, was doing likewise at, as it happened to be, quite near the exact same time. Four AM, or so the calendar clock by the bedside seemed to think. As she lay in bed, eyes focused on the darkness that was the ceiling, she stretched her arms out to both sides and let out a depressed sigh. She wanted to be with Dave, and knew he wanted the same thing- but yet she couldn't just give up, certainly not. She was a fighter, and would stare him down into submission. Show him who's running the stage, so to say. She patted her abdomen, and soon afterwards moved on to drumming her fingers along it. There MUST be a way to get this over with, yet not lose the silent contest. Then it hit her. Grinning at how clever she was, the scantily-clad woman slid out of her bed and made for the nearest phone.
Divide and Conquer
And so it was confirmed. According to the doctor, Meryl 'Smithson' was without a doubt pregnant. Further testing would be required to find out the sex of the child and other such things, but that could all wait. It was only about a month into the process however, and so there was plenty of time to think of the future and what it could hold.
Yet Snake certainly begged to differ. Here he was, suddenly having this shit sprung upon him right out of the blue. Moreover, he didn't know quite what to feel. Anger, for not being told sooner, joy for the fact that he was to be a father...he didn't have the faintest idea. Rather, every emotion he could possibly comprehend, and a great deal that he couldn't, were mixing up within him. What resulted was a man torn apart, wrought with inner turmoil to the point where his external shell was little more than a glacial wall of indifference to the world around. A cold, icy husk of a man with eyes so empty they were little more than circular voids. Complete and total apathy . . . the old Solid Snake, in mind and body.
Meryl had taken none too kindly to this, and responded by shutting herself out of her unofficial husband's life in turn. It was a cycle of iciness, where one's indifference simply fueled that of the other.
For days they were like this, simply waking up, going about their business whilst subtly avoiding the other, and sleeping in separate places. The couch for Snake, Meryl remained in the bed. Nothing was shared except for food, which was even eaten at different times just to avoid seeing the other. Their own little cold war, both more afraid of blinking first than of what would happen if this kept up.
Snake simply sat on the couch, and glanced over to the digital clock's bright red numbers. Nearly three AM. A sigh to himself, followed by placing his forehead into his hands. This just wasn't right. He and Meryl had been through hell, and yet some bad . . . no, not even bad news simply splits them down the middle like butter. Something had to be done, but what? He couldn't simply up and apologize, he wasn't at fault here. He didn't even recall entirely too much sex with Meryl, let alone unprotected sex. It was impossible, but then- he shook the thought out of his mind, deciding to pay more heed to it at a later date. Perking up slightly as an idea crossed his mind, Snake got up, and made for the phone.
Meryl meanwhile, was doing likewise at, as it happened to be, quite near the exact same time. Four AM, or so the calendar clock by the bedside seemed to think. As she lay in bed, eyes focused on the darkness that was the ceiling, she stretched her arms out to both sides and let out a depressed sigh. She wanted to be with Dave, and knew he wanted the same thing- but yet she couldn't just give up, certainly not. She was a fighter, and would stare him down into submission. Show him who's running the stage, so to say. She patted her abdomen, and soon afterwards moved on to drumming her fingers along it. There MUST be a way to get this over with, yet not lose the silent contest. Then it hit her. Grinning at how clever she was, the scantily-clad woman slid out of her bed and made for the nearest phone.