9 YEARS SINCE ABDUCTION, THE ABOMBINABLE SNOWMEN
Snow swirled thick through the cold Alaskan air as Otacon squinted out the window, trying to keep track of a nimble figure bundled in cold weather camouflage and wearing a bright red cap. His eyes followed the red blur, which, in fact, had been added to the costume for increased visibility. He'd been working all day, periodically checking to ascertain that KC was still there, as opposed to, say, trying to start the broken down Kasatka that was rusting in the shed, and succeeding.
"Hey, Snake, check this out," he said after the air cleared some. KC was darting through rows of snowmen. Rows and rows of snowmen. "So that's what she's been doing all day... and look, a snow fort."
Snake looked up from cleaning a periscope he had taken as a souvenir from one of his earliest missions.
"What's this, WWII?"
"What's she doing now...hmmm...." KC had entered the basement of the building, disappearing down the steps. Otacon frowned. "Basement?" It was a few minutes before she emerged again, and Snake and Otacon had gotten into a discussion about the newest president of the United States.
"Poor man," Otacon was saying, while Snake scowled.
"They bring it upon themselves, the whole lot of 'em. They line up for the Patriots. And then act surprised. Hmph..."
"Ah, Snake?" Otacon had just seen something through the window that disturbed him. "Uh, what's KC...what's she...holding...?" Snake peered out and then jumped up, his periscope clattering to the floor.
"That's not...it isn't...KC!" The small figure could be seen fiddling with a grapefruit sized object, inspecting it carefully.
"A hand grenade!" Otacon shrieked, his voice several octaves above normal. KC pulled the pin. Snake was pounding the glass frantically.
"Throw! Run! THROW IT!" Finally, at the last possible second, she raised it and sent it flying into the middle of the snowmen before diving into the fort. And from Otacon, "KC!"
The grenade exploded, blowing the army of snowmen into oblivion. From the ruins of a snow fort, KC jumped up, howling victory. Snake was already halfway out the door.
When he had dragged the girl in by her earlobe, melted snow dripping of her red face, a dangerous silence settled on the room. Snake was looking unusually red in the face. Otacon was trying to hide behind his computer.
"Um," KC began, but Snake interrupted.
"KC! GOD DAMN IT! ARE YOU CRAZY! A HAND GRENADE? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN KILLED, DAMN IT! THEY ARE NOT TOYS! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"
"Yes, Sna-" Her meek reply was cut off once again by Snake growling.
"YOU. ROOM. NOW!" She scurried off, taking full advantage of the opportunity to escape. Snake very rarely reached that level of excitement. Regretfully, she realized she shouldn't have wasted a hand grenade like that.
Back in the living room, Snake took several deep breaths. Otacon ventured a question.
"Who do you suppose she was fighting, anyway?" There was a pregnant pause. Snake turned to regard him with a strange glint in his eye. He opened his mouth, trying to find an answer. Otacon suddenly regretted talking at all. Snake finally found what he was trying to say.
"Your mother."
10 YEARS SINCE ABDUCTION, MOMMY, WHERE ART THOU?
"So, what happened to my mother?" KC was nonchalantly soaking her waffle in maple syrup.
"Your...mother?" Otacon stared.
"She died," said Snake shortly, flipping through a week old newspaper.
"I know," KC said, casting a glance to the heavens. "How?"
"Shot," Snake answered.
"Where?"
"In the head."
"Where?"
"Arsenal Gear."
"What?"
Silence. KC went for the big one.
"Why?"
"Because."
12 YEARS SINCE ABDUCTION, SNAKE QUITS SMOKING
6 AM, a brisk Alaskan morning during the brief summer weeks the trio enjoyed; Snake was bent over, hacking and gasping for air. Something caught his bleary eyes and he stopped the morning ritual to see the lanky teenager, who usually lagged a respectable number of laps behind the warrior and had recently been trailing a distance behind on their morning runs, lap him.
Later that day, Otacon walked in on Snake puffing furiously on a candy cane as he tried to repair a dog harness. Otacon, watching, bemused, as Snake's hands twitched each time he tried to thread the needle, cleared his throat.
"I take it wasn't KC who stole all of your cigarettes and tossed them in the garbage?"
"Why Otacon," Snake's voice was tight, "You're so sharp you'll cut yourself someday."
13 YEARS, 6 MONTHS SINCE ABDUCTION, J00 M4D SUX0RZ
KC had discovered the internet. Otacon, despairing of ever explaining to Snake how to use a mouse, had decided that KC would not be raised in such ignorance. KC had been an apt pupil, quickly discovering that Otacon's fleet of personal computers were not only saturated with classified information, but that in a shocking turn of events, Halo 3 had finally been released and Otacon had quickly pirated his own copy.
"OWNED!" Otacon was trying to work; these outbursts from KC were not helping.
"KC," he tried, but she was wearing headphones, bent towards the screen and clutching the controller tightly.
"What?" She was talking to the screen. "What? Cheap! Cheap...newbie..."
"KC!" Otacon got a reaction this time. She glanced sideways, and he could have sworn she'd muttered lamer under her breath. Trying to exercise self control, he slowly leaned over and pressed a button on the computer. The monitor went blank.
KC stared.
"Hey!"
"I'm trying to work here, KC! And when did I ever say MY computers were available for gaming purposes?" Otacon glared at her. She glared back.
"Well, you do plenty of it," KC pointed out, her voice slightly acidic.
"Off."
"What? My game! Otacon!" She immediately changed her tone. "Please? I promise to be quiet!"
"Now." He would be firm. "You never give Snake a hard time when he tells you to do something..."
"Otacon!" He tried not to show visible signs of weakening at her anguished wail. He hated when he had to stop playing because he hadn't eaten in fourteen hours. Being forced to stop must be worse. Nevertheless. "Please?"
"No."
"Pleeeease?"
"No." She paused, trying to master her emotions.
"Well, then," KC replied, her voice no longer pleading. "Five more minutes?"
"Very well." He walked over to his desk, feeling satisfied. She turned the monitor back on, closed her game, and picked up the camera and snapped a shot of Otacon. Without a word, she uploaded the picture and after a moment, the printer began to spit out papers. Otacon, trying not to look curious, sat down. As the printer finished up, KC picked up scissors, glue, and the printed documents. She stopped on her way out to pick up a cardboard box.
It was a few hours before flashes of color on the snow outside caught Otacon's eye. KC had emerged – she'd been unusually quiet, especially after a tiff with Otacon – and she was carrying something. His download finished; he was in the process of scanning the document when a shot distracted him.
The girl was shooting at something. What, he didn't know. Sensing danger, he decided to go see. As he trekked through the snow piles to KC's approximate location, he saw it; a vaguely familiar figure standing in the distance. Another shot ripped through its head.
"Gotcha that time, eh, Otacon?" A voice came from behind him. Otacon turned to see Snake, with a wicked grin on his face. Otacon's gaze snapped back to the cut-out.
"Me!" He gulped air and then choked, wheezing as Snake chuckled. KC was shooting at a life size cut-out of Otacon.
"Good aim, too," Snake observed, thumping Otacon on the back and sending him sprawling into the snow. "Sorry."
14 YEARS SINCE ABDUCTION, NOT A NORMAL CHILDHOOD
"Snake, I've been thinking," Otacon was re-wiring one of his latest gadgets.
"Oh, really," KC piped up from the den. Otacon decided to ignore it.
"I should learn how to use a gun," he proclaimed. Snake put the last dish in the sink and turned to regard him. "I mean, what if something happened to you? I would have to protect KC."
"I would have to protect you," KC interjected. Snake, seeing Otacon's dismayed expression, quickly intervened.
"Sure, Otacon. Tomorrow. I'll show you."
"I, uh, hold it like this, right? Snake?" Otacon's arm was trembling under the unexpected weight of one of Snake's guns. Snake took a deep breath.
"Ah, well, just move your finger here, and then... there you go. See that target? You want to line the sights up just so – aim – on three, one, two - "
A shot, and a bullet whizzed through the air hitting the target dead center.
"Three..." Snake, with a sigh, looked behind him; up on the roof was KC, waving cheerfully with a sniper rifle cradled in her arm. Otacon was looked puzzled, his shot unfired. "Let's try that again. You ready? Okay...now!"
But it came just a second too late; again, something ripped through the target, and Otacon, having only just aimed, shot the horizon. He dropped the gun.
"I can't do this! What's she trying to do? What's going on?" Snake stooped to pick up the gun and examined it with an air of sadness.
"Go tell her to stop. I'll find another one that's easier to use..."
"KC?" Otacon was standing on the snow, looking up at the figure on the roof.
"Oh, hi, Otacon," was the response, as she turned to face him, staring at him through the sight. He gulped. Otacon was never quite at ease with a gun pointed at his chest.
"Ah, er, KC," he resisted the urge to duck and cover, "You, ah, could you by any chance – by any chance take a break from shooting for a while? I'm trying to, ah, learn how to use a...a gun."
"Otacon!" Her voice was the embodiment of surprise as she continued to stare at him through the sight. "Of course! You only had to ask."
SHORTLY THEREAFTER
"KC!" Snake was standing at her door, shouting at the top of his lungs. "KC! OPEN THE DOOR!" Faint music filtered through the locked door. After a moment of listening, Snake tried again. "OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
"HUH?" He could barely make out the response.
"YOU WANT ME TO BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN? OPEN!" No response. He took a tight breath, stepped back, and... the full force of the music hit him as the door splintered to pieces. He lowered his foot and stared at the surprised KC. With a sudden motion, he stepped over and ripped the plug from the wall; the room immediately plunged into silence.
"Sna-"
"KC. I think we need to talk about your attitude."
"I'm..."
"Listen to me! What's going on here? Do you have something to say to me? Out with it! SPEAK!" KC, wisely, kept her silence. "Your behavior towards Otacon is disgraceful! You know he doesn't appreciate your – your humor!" He snarled the last word at her. In the brief silence she felt she had to respond.
"Sir!" Snake, she knew, wasn't really mad: just like the drill sergeant didn't really hate your guts, he just acted that way because it was his job...
"I think you need to apologize to Otacon!"
"Yes, sir!"
"And give him back his doll!" The anime figurine, she remembered – she'd known Otacon would be too embarrassed to ask for it back... She gave the required response while she recalled the stash of Sailor Moon toys under her bed with some amusement.
"Yes, sir!"
"And stop popping up at the window in your skull suit at night and scaring him!"
"Yes, sir!" Catching her on auto-pilot, he switched his pattern suddenly:
"Do you think I look stupid or something?"
"Yes, sir! (a split second pause) No sir! Of course not, sir!"
"AND CLEAN UP THIS ROOM!" His gaze traveled around the room; used magazines littering the floor, grease rags, a gas mask, scattered nuts and bolts, and the walls, lined with old maps of countries and regions no longer in existence, and, last but not least, perched on a Spartan bed, a worn teddy bear.
And Snake, in a moment of revelation, realized – a teenage girl's room should not look like this. With a low growl – for effect, of course – he turned and disappeared from the doorway.
"...sir..." KC slid down to the floor and pulled the teddy bear to her chest, breathing a sigh of relief.
10 MINUTES LATER: SNAKE SPEAKS TO OTACON
"Otacon," Snake said reflectively, after coming into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. Otacon smiled vaguely without looking up from the computer screen.
"Snake?"
"Have you seen KC's room lately?"
"Hmm...what? No."
"A mess. Tools, old mission maps, dirty magazines everywhere..."
"What?" Otacon finally was looking at Snake, an alarmed look on his face. "How did she get them? They're locked in my desk! What is she...how...?"
"Dirty magazines," Snake said with a glare, pulling the object in question out of his gun and slamming it on the table in front of Otacon. A small 'oh' escaped Otacon before Snake continued. "Otacon, how many women do you know that had rooms like this when they were her age?" There was a brief pause before Snake corrected himself. "Or know of, rather."
"Well, what about Meryl?" Otacon suggested, ignoring the insult.
"Meryl," Snake said darkly, "should not and should never be considered a woman."
"Oh."
"As I was saying – Otacon, I don't think KC has had a normal childhood."
"Is that so, Snake..."
LESS THAN A WEEK LATER, OTACON AND THE BROADWAY PLAY
"KC!" She came running in the door, skidding on the tiles and catching herself on Otacon. He staggered and then, collecting his dignity, stood up. "We're going to New York City."
"What?" Very rarely was Otacon able to shock KC so thoroughly; this was one of them. In all the years she had lived here, they had gone to Anchorage three times, maybe four – and now New York? "What?"
"You heard him. You should get packing. We're leaving the day after tomorrow." Snake was leaning against the doorframe.
"New York City? Why?" KC still hadn't absorbed the information. Otacon looked momentarily blank, and then inspired.
"We're going to see a Broadway play!"
"Philanthropy called a meeting," she corrected, breathless. Otacon stared and Snake frowned.
"Broadway play," Otacon insisted, but Snake interrupted.
"How do you know?"
"Otacon...computers...accident....the day after tomorrow?" She was only shocked because she was being allowed to come. Snake grunted.
"I did...want to see a Broadway play," Otacon sighed, and wandered back into his study.
"Well, better get out there and fix that Kasatka," Snake said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. "It's been a while since that thing has been in the air..."
"Snake!" Otacon's voice rang out from the study. "We are not taking the Kasatka! We are flying on American Airlines! You are not going to violate thirty-four no-fly zones stretching from Alaska to New York again! Snake, remember the last time..."
"He just doesn't think I can fix it," Snake said to KC, with a grin on his face. "Watch me."
PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY
Snake had finally emerged from his room after admitting defeat as far as the Kasatka went; after dropping the dogs off with Naomi, he went to dump KC's luggage in the back of the armed vehicle and stopped.
"KC." At the sound of her name she froze, halfway out the door. "KC... can you tell me why this bag is so heavy?"
"Stuff," she said indistinctly through the layers of scarves Otacon had piled on her.
"It wouldn't happen to be any of the stuff that you and I discussed, now, would it? No 'stuff' that would get us in trouble on an airplane? No 'stuff' that private citizens are not allowed to possess?"
"Ah – course not," she answered, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Snake dropped the bag and pulled it open. A few articles of clothing fell out, along with an assortment of much heavier and much more dangerous items. Without another word, Snake began rifling through her bags, confiscating a hand grenade here, a small handgun there... "My tranquilizer gun," Snake muttered with surprise, and then, after assuring himself that there was nothing else, dumped the remaining clothes and miscellaneous things into the smallest bag. "Here. You do know about the security systems in place at the airport?"
"What, a few metal detectors and bag scanners?" KC replied scornfully, tossing her head despite the fact that it was swathed in hats and scarves and a few gloves. Otacon had recently decided that she was at risk for pneumonia. "Easy stuff."
"Actually," Snake said, clearing his throat, "I was an unofficial consultant in the security designs for the airport we're leaving from. I don't think you'd have made it out of the parking lot."
"Oh." KC wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, but with Snake, you could never tell...
An hour later, after Otacon had panicked and turned back twice because he thought he left his G7 Mac on, they were on their way.