Title: Atonement
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 11
Feedback: synth3sis@yahoo.co.uk or review.
Notes: This is pretty much the end, but I have an epilogue and a sequel planned. I hope to write the epilogue tomorrow and then take a little rest, because I'm suffering from work exhaustion. As soon as I feel better I'll start the sequel. I really hope everyone's enjoyed this story, and if there's anything you particularly wish to see in a sequel feel free to drop me a line. This story was the slippery slope downhill – the next fic will be climbing back up, and will be a little bit more cheerful for Hal and all of you, I hope! Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing – your comments have been vital in urging me to continue. Please enjoy!

Chapter 11

The gun slipped from Otacon's hands and clattered to the floor. He looked blankly at Leon; point blank range was messy, but instant and hopefully painless. Then it sank in that what he was seeing was real, and he had done it. The blood and bone, the destroyed body of his former lover lay splattered out before him, and he had caused that with his very own hands…

Otacon turned away and was sick to his stomach, tears streaming down his face, sobs racking his frail body. He dragged himself away, unable to look at what he'd done. He was splattered with blood and he screamed, weeping, wailing. Snake rushed over to his friend and cradled him in his arms, feeling the shaking, sobbing, hysterical figure in his arms. Otacon fought him, but Snake's grip was strong and he held him, refusing to let his friend cause any harm to himself.

"Otacon!" he said, as another bomb rocked the facility, "We have to leave, now!" He couldn't think of anything to say about Leon, couldn't muster up words of comfort. Whatever one said about killing, no matter how it happened, it would never make the pain go away, never take away the guilt that came with killing someone – especially someone close to you. Snake fought back the memories of fighting Grey Fox on a minefield, many years before. They were just two soldiers doing their jobs, but it didn't make it any easier to take the life of his friend. To see him die a second time had been almost as painful, crushed beneath Metal Gear Rex, back in Shadow Moses. It seemed everything they did led back to that place; they were tied to it forever.

"I don't care!" Otacon cried, trapped in his insanity. Snake picked him up; he wasn't going to let him die, even if he had to carry him all the way out of the doomed facility.

"When we get out of here, I'll tell you about when I killed a friend," Snake said, and was relieved Otacon had stopped fighting him; it hurt his arm more to carry a struggling figure. Otacon had closed his eyes and retreated into himself, responding to nothing Snake said or did.

Fires filled the building; the bombs had caused more damage then Snake had realized. He hurried through the rooms, doing whatever he could to evade the flames, Otacon cradled safely in his arms. Otacon was not an enemy on a battlefield, he was a civilian who had been dragged into all this back in Shadow Moses, and was eventually bound to Metal Gear as much as Snake was.

He passed into the clone room again; the tanks were shattered and clones of Otacon lie dead on the floor. He looked at Otacon's face; his eyes were still closed, as if he had shut himself off from the world entirely. He was grateful that he didn't have to see this again, but found it hard to navigate the room himself, despite all he'd seen and done in his many years as a soldier. None of these clones were real, no matter how much they looked like Otacon. He moved on, leaving the horror behind him, knowing that the warm figure he carried protectively in his arms was all that mattered to him now.

The next room was filled with smoke; Snake hoped the upper levels weren't as bad, or getting out alive was going to be hard. He rushed through and up the stairs, fighting back the pain in his arm from the effort of carrying Otacon.

He reached the office levels, the rooms where they had been imprisoned, and swore: the staircase up to the final level was blocked. Snake set Otacon down, propping him against a wall while he worked on clearing it. He felt his arm bleed and the strength fade from it again. He worked until he could work no more, and knew that he couldn't do it alone.

Snake knelt in front of Otacon, "Otacon, I need your help, wake up!" He shook Otacon's shoulders, and Otacon groaned, having given up the will to do anything. He didn't open his eyes.

"I've killed many people for my cause, but eventually I understood that you can't save everyone, no matter what you do," Snake said, "But there are some people you can save, and you have to do all in your power to help them… Hal, we're going to die if you don't help me, and then we won't be able to stop Metal Gear. People are depending on you, on us, even if they don't know it."

Otacon's eyes flickered open, his heart awakened by Snake's speech, "Snake, I killed him, I… I took his life away… How does that make me worthy to help people?"

"You don't need to be worthy or great to help people. I've killed lots of people; yet some people see me as a hero. I'm no saint, and chances are if I were, I'd be dead by now. That's just how it works." The room was rocked by the blasts, and ceiling tiles began to fall, "Otacon, we need to hurry," Snake repeated, "We're still needed in the world, we can't die here. Otherwise many people will suffer."

Otacon's eyes lit up with new resolve. He reached for Snake's hand to perform the handshake, but Snake indicated there wasn't the time. Otacon rushed to the pile of debris blocking the staircase and began to throw rubble out of the way. Between them, the pile was gone in minutes. Another blast rocked the building and more of the ceiling began to crumble. Snake herded Otacon up the stairs, and another blast made the room collapse just as they escaped. They didn't look back, there was no time to think about how close to death they'd been while they were still in danger. They continued climbing, and were grateful to feel fresh air on their faces, rain coming with it like tears, the cold water beating against their faces and refreshing them. A cold wind swept the isle, and bombers still swooped overhead, although now satisfied that the evidence was destroyed, the attack was easing off and the planes were flying away.

They sheltered in the entrance until all the bombers were gone, Otacon feeling the warmth of Snake sitting next to him. He had no time to contemplate their fate, not while they were still in danger, but there were things he wanted to say just in case they didn't make it out.

"Thank you, Snake… for saving my life back there," Otacon began, for he knew if Snake hadn't opened his heart to him, they both would have died needlessly, buried in tons of concrete and metal.

Snake nodded, "Well, I was saving my own ass too," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Otacon managed a faint smile, "Yeah, I guess you were," he said, but he knew Snake hadn't done it purely for selfish reasons; his actions through the mission had shown how much he cared for Otacon. He'd put Otacon before himself at all times, from locking him in the closet of the hotel room to carrying him through the room of clones, to protecting him from the falling glass and the collapsing room they'd just passed through, whereas Leon had manipulated him and shot Snake, and Snake had known the man was bad news, but had still supported Otacon despite it all…

Otacon felt gratitude swell up inside of him, and he nuzzled his head into Snake's shoulder, unable to speak because of the lump in his throat. Snake held him again, looking out at the foreboding sky while absentmindedly stroking his hair, knowing in that moment he loved Otacon, had loved him for a long time. He knew that part of his hatred for Leon had been jealousy, although he hadn't consciously realized it at the time. It was going to take a lot of time for Otacon's mental and emotional wounds to heal, but Snake knew his feelings would wait. He looked at Otacon's face and their eyes met in mutual understanding, but to speak those words would be to demand an answer, and Otacon wasn't ready for a relationship again so soon after losing Leon, and they both knew it, so they kept their words to themselves.

A crack of thunder broke the mood, and Snake looked out to see the bombers had gone. He pointed to the helicopters on the pad, "There's our ride out of here."

"Can you fly a helicopter, Snake?" Otacon asked, hoping Snake had had better training than he.

"I was kinda hoping you could," Snake said, looking grim.

"I did have some training, but not in Russian helicopters. That's a Kasatka, the civilian model… I guess I could give it a try," he said, knowing they had no other choice. Snake patted him on the back, and Otacon nodded. They stood up together, and rushed out into the pouring rain towards the helipad.

Gunfire opened at them, and Snake chanced a glance behind him to see that whatever soldiers were left had grouped together to make a final stand. Some American soldiers landed on the shore and they engaged the Russians, keeping them busy while Snake and Otacon dived onto the helicopter. Otacon dived into the pilot seat and looked around, pressing buttons and hoping he could still remember his training. Snake hardly dare breathe, and he looked out of the helicopter briefly. Some soldiers had broken from the others and were heading straight for them, eager to prevent their escape.

"Hurry it up!" Snake yelled to Otacon, "They're coming for us!"

Otacon threw caution to the winds and worked on pure instinct, hoping that what he remembered was right…

They took off from the ground just as the soldiers came close, and soared out of reach of the soldiers being able to grab hold. They shot at the helicopter, but Otacon flew off quickly and they were left shooting at shadows in the night sky.

Snake put his hands on Otacon's shoulders, "Let's go home, Otacon."

"Yeah," Otacon said, and they flew into the night, not taking a single glance behind them. The past could not be altered, and the future, although uncertain, held tiny seeds of hope that they both cherished, praying that in time those seeds would grow to be beautiful flowers, dancing in the sunlight, celebrating spring at the end of a long winter. They had suffered for their decisions, paid for their sins with loss and pain, and only one question remained; when and how would it all end? Metal Gear was still out there; death could be inflicted on the human race at any time. The battle was over; the war was not.

The first cracks of sunlight broke on the island behind them, illuminating the graveyard below, the broken buildings still smoldering and burning. Soldiers lie still; all life extinguished from them. Smoke spiraled upward to the sky, as if sending the souls of the dead to some heaven, if such a place existed.

Water lapped up onto the sand, the waves crashing as the storm disappeared, leaving calm over the island. A small patch of grass, untouched by events, was home to a flower that opened its petals to the morning sunlight for the first time…

While there is life, there is always hope.