Author's note: Cheers to all those who know who the kid is, and to those who do not, play the game. It's Olga's baby. On another note, we realize the first segment of the story was language heavy; the vast majority is not. Thus the PG-13 rating, for mild language, innuendo, and implied violence. If there are still issues, please do share; we are not trying to be difficult. So – hopefully – enjoy!
ONE WEEK SINCE ABDUCTION, FAKING THE RECORDS
Snake pulled off his gloves, triggering a shower of ice and snow. His snow caked boots were worse; but once he had peeled off the extreme weather gear that was absolutely necessary here at the remote Alaskan outpost, he paused to listen.
"Here comes the cho-cho, woooo," came Otacon's voice, edged with despair. "No? Um, um, here comes the airplane!" There was a loud clattering sound of a spoon being thrown to the ground and then whimpering (Otacon). Snake, entering the room, paused to take in the scene. The kid was burbling happily, working to push the bowl of baby food after the spoon, and Otacon was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.
"Move." Snake retrieved the spoon and glared at first the kid, then Otacon, who scrambled out of the way. "I'll get it to eat."
"I'll just finish faking her records," Otacon said, relieved. "Uh, what are we going to name her? Hey, how about Neko?"
"No," Snake said quickly. "No. Why don't we try not to pick a name from your video collection? Something regular."
"Okay," Otacon muttered, slightly hurt. "I just...never mind."
"Casey, how about that?"
"Yeah, yeah, that works. I'll take care of it." He disappeared into his study. With a few keystrokes, he accessed the documents, and began to work, stopping only to eavesdrop on Snake's progress.
"Here comes the Harrier! Vvvvv... Wow, stinger missile! Heh, wouldn't want to eat that...hey!" A splat and several curses later, Snake stomped into Otacon's work area, baby in his arms, strained carrot dripping down his face. "It's going to bed."
Otacon stood up to take the child, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Well, I got it done, Snake," he said brightly, holding out the documents with one hand. Snake took them. He shuffled through the documents quickly, until he reached the birth certificate, and shot a murderous glance at Otacon. "K...C..."
"What?"
"I said Casey."
"Yeah, that's what I..."
"You wrote, K, C."
"I don't understand what you're upset about." Snake opened his mouth to argue this statement, stopped, handed back the documents, and walked off, muttering something like 'shower' at the surprised Otacon.
ONE YEAR SINCE ABDUCTION, LANGUAGE
"Damnt, 'con, stop bitching."
Otacon was shocked.
KC tried to glower and then giggled happily.
"Listen here, young lady," he tried ineffectively, as she wandered off in the general direction of bed, which was what he had just suggested she hurry up and do. "Snake, we need to talk!" were the next words out of his mouth. Snake, in the kitchen, grunted. "Do you know what she just said to me? Did you hear what she just said?"
Snake sighed, put down his knife, and brushed off his apron.
"Okay, okay, what's going on?" Anything to stop Otacon from continuing his high-pitched hysterics. "I'm listening."
"That's the problem! Listening! That girl has ears! And now she has a mouth, too!"
"And you just noticed this, Otacon?"
"That's not what I meant! And you know it!" Otacon, hands on his hips, was standing in the doorway looking more and more indignant and self-righteous as the situation progressed.
"Calm down – "
"No! Where is she picking up this, this language!"
"Oh, damn it, Otacon, stop bitching. They're just words...Otacon?" Snake shrugged as Otacon stomped out.
It was a considerable amount of time later when Otacon reappeared, looking less ruffled but still slightly hurt. Ah, well, Otacon always looked slightly hurt, Snake thought, warily waiting for the next outburst. But the issue seemed to have been resolved.
"You know, we've had KC for a full year now, Snake," he began, and sensing the issue of language wasn't going to be the subject of the conversation, Snake nodded for him to continue. "Well, we should, I mean, I've been thinking we should have a party for her. A birthday party." Blink. Blink. Snake stared.
"Why?" Momentarily taken aback, Otacon frowned and then narrowed his eyes.
"Don't you want her to have a normal childhood? Don't you want her to have a different experience than we did? Don't you want – " That's for sure, Snake thought silently, I wouldn't want her screwing her mother. But he's right, Snake realized, suddenly slightly bemused, I didn't have any birthday parties...or presents...
"Otacon?" he said suddenly, interrupting the tirade. "How do you order things online? On the internet?"
"Huh? Oh, what do you..."
"Just tell me."
"Here, uh, you click here, and then..." Otacon, having set up a terminal in the kitchen for easy access during mealtimes, demonstrated.
"Alright, I've got the gist of it. Now go."
"Go?" Otacon looked baffled.
"Plan her birthday. Whatever. Go."
The next day over breakfast, while KC was playing with a broken set of thermal goggles in the next room, Otacon brought up the issues of cakes.
"We should bake her one," he suggested, placing his oversized coffee mug on the only clear spot of the table.
"Ah," Snake said wisely, "By 'we' should bake a cake, you mean 'I' should bake a cake."
"Well, yes," Otacon said, sipping his caffeine filled mug happily. "Basically."
"When I go to town to pick up the mail, I'll also pick up the ingredients," Snake said, resigned. "No guests?"
"Huh? Guests! We can have guests! Hey, let's see... Who can we invite? We could give Raiden a call...no, we lost contact months ago..." Otacon's ebullience faded into uncertainty, only to bounce back up again. "Or Mei Ling! She's been planning to visit for ages. Not to far away, either. Who else?"
"Well, we could invite Naomi and hope she brings the foxdie vaccine as a gift..."
"Okay! I'll call! Great!" Otacon enthused, not catching on to Snake's sarcasm.
"Yeah, and while we're at it, why don't we just find another fucking piece of my brother and put him in a jar so he can talk to us over dinner?"
"Wait, which piece...yeah, um, I'll call Mei Ling," Otacon quickly said, catching Snake's look of death.
"Good idea."
"Right."
"Okay."
"I'll do that now."
"Get the hell out of here, Otacon."
Snake put the knife down and sighed.
ONE WEEK LATER
"A teddy bear?" Otacon repeated as KC smiled happily, hugging the sickeningly cute plush toy tightly. Snake looked slightly embarrassed.
"Well, isn't that the kind of thing you wanted me to get her?"
"Yes, but..."
"'For it is in giving that we receive,'" Mei Ling intoned, with only a hint of sarcasm. "So said Saint Francis of Assisi. Pass the coffee, Otacon? So, tell me... how is this working out? I never expected to find the great Solid Snake a stay at home mom."
"My mommy's dead," KC said cheerfully, swinging her teddy bear around. "Snake told me."
"Maybe you'd be better equipped to raise a child?" Otacon said half-hopefully.
"'Although prepared for martyrdom, I preferred that it be postponed,' Sir Winston Churchill. Are you really having that much trouble with her?"
"Nothing we can't handle, Mei Ling," Snake said, frowning at Otacon.
"I don't know if it's healthy to discipline a child by making her drop and do fifty," Otacon muttered, loud enough that Mei Ling could hear.
"I don't see your point," Snake said mildly, taking a sip of tea.
"No? Teaching her how to use your SOCOM doesn't strike you as at all unusual?"
"'You can get a lot farther with a kind word and a gun than a kind word alone.' Al Capone."
"I thought you'd be on my side!" Otacon wailed.
"'You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand.'" Otacon glowered. Mei Ling smiled. "That was Leonardo da Vinci."
KC had finished 'feeding' her teddy bear and wandered over to the computer.
"Any news, Snake? I wouldn't think the Patriots would sit by silently as you stole their prize and dragged her off to Alaska for an indefinite period of time."
"They haven't been sitting by silently, Mei Ling," Snake said, closing his eyes. "We know they're searching for us. An area, say, 50 miles northwest of here, completely destroyed last fall. Lucky it was just forest, but it makes me think they're getting closer."
"'Destroy the seed of evil, or it will grow up to your ruin.' You're not surprised, are you? It's only logical. Have you given any thought to joining the gang at HQ in Russia? She should grow up with some kids her own age. Speaking of which, I heard Raiden had a son a while back..." Meanwhile, through trial and error, KC had managed to turn the computer on.
"Raiden? Hah." Otacon leaned back in his chair, oblivious to the small girl's industrious and destructive efforts. "Off the grid. I swear, he must have been pretty desperate to silence his codec... I can't think of how he'd do it, save dropping a toaster in the bathtub and sticking his head underwater."
"'When you have eliminated the impossible, that which remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I'm afraid he hasn't taken this very well..."
"That's for sure, Mei Ling. I have tried to contact him – KC?" Otacon suddenly became aware of the sound of keys being pressed repeatedly. "What are you doing to my computer?"
Mei Ling, closest to the computer, leaned over to look. "As Aldous Huxley once said, 'Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.' I'm afraid I must be going," she said to Snake, as Otacon was hyperventilating by the computer, "So may I ask for a ride home?"
"Of course... Thanks for coming. C'mon KC, we're going to give Mei Ling a ride home... Otacon needs some time alone right now."
Later, as Mei Ling stepped off the dogsled and onto the snow, she gave one last bit of wisdom.
"'The family seems to have two predominant functions: to provide warmth and love in time of need and to drive each other insane.' Donald G. Smith. Good luck, Snake."
THREE YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS SINCE ABDUCTION, WOOF
There was something wrong.
Perhaps it was that faint aroma in the air that first alerted Snake that there was something amiss with his huskies. It wasn't sarin, nor mustard gas; Snake would have recognized it. It was damned familiar, on the tip of his tongue, but somehow just out of reach of his mind.
The dogs seemed to be fine; that was to say, they were alive, but none had rushed up to greet Snake as he came in with their morning meal. It wasn't as if they were sick – they were wagging their tails, looking over at him cheerfully, but standing in their beds of hay. It was almost like they were concentrating on something else.
Then he heard it. A strange schlop, the sound of something stuck becoming unstuck, again and again and again... He looked at the dogs. Snake was always good at gauging their moods. Not unhappy, he thought, in fact, they looked downright pleased, tails going, but puzzled. He advanced towards the pack, and the scent became stronger, as did the repetitive sound. Was it the dogs?
He knelt down by the first dog. It wagged its tail harder but made no move to lick his face. In fact, its mouth was slightly open, and its pink tongue was working furiously inside its mouth. Then it hit him: peanut butter.
His gaze slowly traveled over the pack and to the other end of the barn, where a small figure was holding a spoon and a jar. Moving in silently, as only Solid Snake could, he could just hear her...
"One for you," and the dog eagerly licked the glob of peanut butter off the proffered spoon, immediately becoming incapable of opening its mouth, "..one for me," and she dug the spoon into the jar to get another generous scoop for herself.
"Hi Shnake," she said indistinctly, turning towards him happily. "Want shome?"
FOUR YEARS SINCE ABDUCTION, TERRORISTS
It was some time after 1 AM, and, as usual, Otacon was up with his glowing computer screen and steaming mug of coffee. He had turned off the screen and closed his eyes, catching a brief moment of semi-sleep when he heard the faint but unmistakable sound of creaking floorboards. The footsteps became slightly louder; KC must be ascending the stairs that led to the underground level where her room was, among other things. He cracked the door open, and the faint hall light showed the small girl making her way towards Snake's door. I don't think he still has his door rigged with Semtex, Otacon thought, eyes straining in the near dark. He needn't have worried; the door opened with no accompanying explosion. I suppose he abandoned that habit after we moved back here.
"Snake?" Her voice carried clearly. Snake, who, understandably, was a light sleeper, had been alert since the first board groaned under her weight.
"Yes, KC? Something wrong?" She sniffed slightly.
"Snake, there are terrorists under my bed," she wailed, fear evident in her voice. "They want me to give them the president, but I don't have the president..."
"Hush, it's just a bad dream, don't worry, kid."
"It's not a bad dream, they're there!" Ah, the conviction of a child, Otacon smiled to himself. Terrorists under her bed. What had Snake been telling the girl?
"Just take this." There was a pause. "Now, don't let those terrorists give you any more trouble, hear?"
There was a definitely reassured affirmative, and burning with curiosity, Otacon peered through the crack to watch her retreat back to her room, the unmistakable profile of a SOCOM clutched in her small hands. He waited as she closed the hall door behind her, and waited until the footsteps receded down the stairs...
"SNAAAAKE!"
"I'd never give a kid her age a loaded gun," Snake insisted, slightly offended. It was the next morning, and the debate had picked up once more. "Besides, why shouldn't she learn not to be afraid? At least she has the comfort that she can hurt them back now,"
"That's not the point!" Otacon ignored Snake's theory on child psychology.
"So what is?"
"I don't know! But it isn't!"
"Might I point out that some people were initiated into real combat at a much earlier age?"
"That's not the point either!"
"I won't claim that they turned out fine, but they're still alive, and that just might be the point there."
FOUR YEARS, 2 MONTHS SINCE ABDUCTION, A TRIP AND A MULLET
Snake was hunched over a map, trying to plot his course to Anchorage. Otacon was chasing after KC with a pair of scissors.
"Get back here, young lady, you sit still – I'll, I'll, KC!"
KC, her mind in stealth mode, hardly heard him.
"Snake!" Otacon shouted, as KC ducked past the old warrior. His arm shot out and a moment later, he had her by the collar as she struggled ineffectively. "Thanks." Otacon breathed a sigh of relief, "NOW, KC, what is going on?"
KC pouted.
"I don't want the hair you give me," she said, "I want bangs."
It took Otacon a moment to decipher, his mind going first to his special DVD collection. Oh, wait, bangs...yeah. And she didn't like his haircut? He spent a moment feeling hurt, and then turned to Snake.
"Hey, Snake, lend me a hand with her hair?"
"You always deal with that," Snake said pointedly, not looking up.
"Well, she wants, you know, bangs."
"And...you think I could help you with that, why?"
Otacon made hand motions and Snake glared at him, uncomprehending.
"You...hair...I don't know..." Snake's expression didn't change.
"Otacon. They're NOT BANGS." He swept the map off the table and brought his hands down on the wood. "That being said, give me the scissors."
The morning after Snake left to re-supply the fort, Otacon was cradling a mug of black coffee in his hands, staring at nothing in particular. KC shuffled into the kitchen, her teddy bear trailing behind.
"I want pancakes," she announced, and seeing Otacon stir slightly, she added, "Teddy bear pancakes."
Otacon, having got a desperately sad amount of sleep last night even for him, stared at her.
"Snake always makes me teddy bear pancakes," she said, her voice approaching a wail. Still Otacon did nothing. It occurred to her that he didn't know how to make them. "He makes the head first," she prompted, climbing up onto a chair and taking a moment to arrange teddy bear in the chair beside her.
"Right." Otacon had been faintly echoing KC's words. "Pancakes. Teddy bear. Snake. Head." He stopped for a moment and tried to, or not to, think. "Ah," he said, suddenly catching on, "Breakfast."
"Breakfast," KC said, trying to be helpful.
Otacon managed the batter, and with ample supervision, produced a vaguely animal looking shape, as long as he didn't look at it too closely. It flopped onto the waiting KC's plate, and she looked down at it for a good minute before looking up at Otacon. Anticipating some criticism as to its shape, he tried for pre-emptive strike.
"See, here are the ears, and here are the arms, or arm, rather, and um..."
She didn't look mollified.
"You forgot," her lip quivered. "You forgot the chocolate chip eyes. Snake always remembers."
Otacon wilted.
"SNAAAKE!" Snake came home to the familiar sound of Otacon, well, throwing a tantrum.
"Yes, Otacon?" He trudged in, having just put the dogs in the barn and the supplies in the shed. "Problem(s)?"
"It's KC! She was playing in the workshop! She stole a piece of equipment!" Otacon, Snake realized, looked rather frazzled. Snake was sure taking care of KC for a week all alone had been a learning experience. He had hoped, though, that the two would escape major mishap. It appeared they had not.
"And," Snake said, with infinite patience, "Why is this so urgent? Take it away from her if you're worried."
"Snaaake! It was the optic camo!"
"Damn, damn, damn it, Otacon, what the..." Snake muttered under his breath, having searched the entire house with thermal goggles. He stared at the fuzzy orange blob in front of him. "Why..."
"She's, uh, not in the house?" Otacon said desperately, trying to back away without Snake noticing.
"NO. She's not. That leaves..." He disappeared into the snowy outdoors, a place Otacon tried to avoid as much as possible.
The shed having turned up nothing, Snake entered the dog shed with something very close to desperation. The dogs panted and wagged their tails and then went back to sleep. It had been a long trip. The thermal goggles revealed the glowing orange body heat of the dogs, but nothing else. He started to turn, and then stopped. He counted.
"I seem to have an extra dog," Snake said mildly to no one in particular. A few pieces of hay shifted guiltily. "YOU!" He pounced, clearing away the hay pile with a single sweep of his arms. A furry dog opened its eyes to gaze, confused, up at its master. "No, not you...nor you...KC." He had prepared himself to yell, but the girl was fast asleep, teddy bear in her arms. His goggles pushed up to his forehead, he sighed.
When he carried the sleepy fugitive in and deposited her in her bed, Otacon was sitting in the kitchen looking unrepentant. Snake raised his eyebrows. Otacon did the same.
"So, Solid Snake," he said, his voice perfectly neutral, "Teddy bear pancakes?"