Rather important little note: This fic is not a fic at all. It is a conglomeration of small drabbles, pieces of stories that do not belong in any fic. These were all challenges, where a phrase and the word count were given to me, and I wrote something in response to the challenge. I like some of them, so I'm posting them here, in this story thing. New drabbles go into new chapters. None of them go together. They're just here.
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Challenge #3
Phrase: "I thought you of all people would understand."
Word Count: 659
Rating: PG-13
Title: Set Me Free
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: Wolf learned something from Otacon.
Warning: Extreme sappiness. Het, Otacon/Wolf.
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The world was her prison, and she never learned how to love.
In fact, the world had taught her how /not/ to love. It had taught her that being close to people was what hurt the most, and how she should avoid it. It had taught her how to view the world through the scope of a sniper rifle, how to aim the crosshairs up between someone's eyes, how to not be scared to pull the trigger. She was no longer repulsed by the blood erupting from her target's forehead, no longer felt the recoil when she fired her rifle.
She was lying in the snow, eyes turned toward the Aurora Borealis lighting the nighttime with its splendor. She knew it was the last time she would see such a thing. It didn't matter, though, not now. It didn't matter that her once white jacket was stained with crimson or that her eyes were beginning to lose focus. It didn't matter. Everyone was here. Everything was set. She was ready, ready to die.
Memories haunted her as she waited for an endless eternity. Memories of a pale, stick thin scientist befriending her and asking her for something she didn't know how to offer. Why did she mind focus on him? Why did her thoughts revolve around this?
She is terrified of him. She is terrified and she knows this now. Terrified of his words, his actions, his thoughts. She enjoys the talks they share, she enjoys the words he gives, but she has let him in too close, come to rely on him, and she can't do this anymore. He is alone too, he is like she is, a lone wolf, meant to be this close to no one. Will he respect her decision? Will he understand why she can't talk to him like she used to? Will her words...hurt him?
Yes. Oh god, there are tears sparkling in those gray eyes. Gray, like the morning sky over Russia...
"I thought...I thought you of all people would understand," he whispers and turns to leave. She has to turn away then, the onslaught of unfamiliar emotion threatening to break her.
Why is her heart breaking? Why is there a burning in her eyes, an ache in her throat, a sob caught in her chest? She never wanted to hurt him, she never meant to let him this close and it is now her fault that he's a part of this. How can she explain that she isn't meant to care? How can she make him understand that being alone is the only way she can be safe?
This is war. People die. She had grown up with this knowledge, and the only way to survive in a world this cruel is to care for no one but oneself. No one expects her to reach out, so she reaches in. No one tries to come near, so she stays away. No one, no one but him. He had fallen clumsily into her world one day and smashed all of her ideals before she could get him to leave. And now she is alone again, and for some reason, it doesn't feel the way it was supposed to.
It isn't supposed to hurt.
Snow was falling. She had never apologized for telling him off that day. She had never told him why she had said those things. She had never cried. She had no use for tears, no use for mourning; and here he was still, tears threatening to freeze to his cheeks and he wept for something she couldn't give him.
Or could she? The world had never taught her how to love, but he had. He had taught her unconditional love, an attraction strong enough to be nothing else, a sick sort of dependency that she had always hated. It was real now, and she knew. And she told him with her eyes.
"Okay, hero," she whispered, "set me free."
--
Challenge #3
Phrase: "I thought you of all people would understand."
Word Count: 659
Rating: PG-13
Title: Set Me Free
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: Wolf learned something from Otacon.
Warning: Extreme sappiness. Het, Otacon/Wolf.
--
The world was her prison, and she never learned how to love.
In fact, the world had taught her how /not/ to love. It had taught her that being close to people was what hurt the most, and how she should avoid it. It had taught her how to view the world through the scope of a sniper rifle, how to aim the crosshairs up between someone's eyes, how to not be scared to pull the trigger. She was no longer repulsed by the blood erupting from her target's forehead, no longer felt the recoil when she fired her rifle.
She was lying in the snow, eyes turned toward the Aurora Borealis lighting the nighttime with its splendor. She knew it was the last time she would see such a thing. It didn't matter, though, not now. It didn't matter that her once white jacket was stained with crimson or that her eyes were beginning to lose focus. It didn't matter. Everyone was here. Everything was set. She was ready, ready to die.
Memories haunted her as she waited for an endless eternity. Memories of a pale, stick thin scientist befriending her and asking her for something she didn't know how to offer. Why did she mind focus on him? Why did her thoughts revolve around this?
She is terrified of him. She is terrified and she knows this now. Terrified of his words, his actions, his thoughts. She enjoys the talks they share, she enjoys the words he gives, but she has let him in too close, come to rely on him, and she can't do this anymore. He is alone too, he is like she is, a lone wolf, meant to be this close to no one. Will he respect her decision? Will he understand why she can't talk to him like she used to? Will her words...hurt him?
Yes. Oh god, there are tears sparkling in those gray eyes. Gray, like the morning sky over Russia...
"I thought...I thought you of all people would understand," he whispers and turns to leave. She has to turn away then, the onslaught of unfamiliar emotion threatening to break her.
Why is her heart breaking? Why is there a burning in her eyes, an ache in her throat, a sob caught in her chest? She never wanted to hurt him, she never meant to let him this close and it is now her fault that he's a part of this. How can she explain that she isn't meant to care? How can she make him understand that being alone is the only way she can be safe?
This is war. People die. She had grown up with this knowledge, and the only way to survive in a world this cruel is to care for no one but oneself. No one expects her to reach out, so she reaches in. No one tries to come near, so she stays away. No one, no one but him. He had fallen clumsily into her world one day and smashed all of her ideals before she could get him to leave. And now she is alone again, and for some reason, it doesn't feel the way it was supposed to.
It isn't supposed to hurt.
Snow was falling. She had never apologized for telling him off that day. She had never told him why she had said those things. She had never cried. She had no use for tears, no use for mourning; and here he was still, tears threatening to freeze to his cheeks and he wept for something she couldn't give him.
Or could she? The world had never taught her how to love, but he had. He had taught her unconditional love, an attraction strong enough to be nothing else, a sick sort of dependency that she had always hated. It was real now, and she knew. And she told him with her eyes.
"Okay, hero," she whispered, "set me free."