Title: Atonement
Pairings: You'll see.
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: To be determined. This chapter is probably a PG. Story will probably be PG-13/R
Contact: [email protected]
Beta: None as yet
Atonement
Flashing neon lights, dancing girls in tight leather, and the smell of too much booze. Not the kind of environment he imagined Otacon to be residing in by choice, but he himself didn't mind it. In fact, he quite liked it.
Solid Snake stood by the bar, dressed in a long, dark trench coat that was wet from the rain outside. He tapped his foot. Snake didn't mind having a drink or two, or smoking a few cigarettes, but he really hated hanging around in public places. They carried risk, and he was tired of it. He'd shied away from humanity with only animals for company to escape it.
So why was he here?
He lit up another cigarette to calm himself, wondering to himself if it was a trap, when a door behind the bar opened and Otacon beckoned him forward. He looked drained, thin, like he'd been through a lot of stress.
Snake slipped through the door discreetly; Otacon didn't stop to greet him, but hurried up the stairs like something was chasing him. Or would be soon, Snake wondered. Is this why he'd called him here, to bail him out of trouble? Typical. Everyone always needed his help; he could never enjoy his retirement in peace.
Enjoy. In peace. Ha, he thought, at the mere mention of those words. He hadn't been enjoying his retirement, he'd just existed through it, aching for the battlefield, the adrenaline. Meryl had offered him an alternate distraction, a different kind of fire, but he woke one day to find her gone, and a note to say she'd gone on a personal mission and would never return. That day, one of his huskies had fallen gravely sick and he'd had to put it out of its misery. He'd felt more upset over the sorrow of losing an innocent animal then he did over Meryl, who had chosen to return to the killing grounds despite everything she had told him to the contrary. He wasn't even angry; he simply had no faith in the human race anymore.
Maybe that was why he had come: to search once again for faith in people. He had to admit, there was an innocence in Otacon he coveted, a naivety that had led to the creation of Metal Gear, perhaps, but a lack of aggression and a light of hope, even in such dismal times. Yet he could see little trace of that now. Otacon looked drawn and pale, tired and sick, as though he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a very long time. Snake couldn't help wonder what he'd gotten into this time.
Otacon quickly ushered him into a room on the top floor, which he locked behind him. There were three locks on the door.
"Just what are you running from, anyway?" Snake asked, his voice gruff. He'd flown out from Alaska, after receiving a cryptic telephone message, "I almost didn't come."
Otacon could see Snake's patience was running out. He flipped up his laptop and pointed to the screen.
"I've found Metal Gear," he said.
^*^
"You're kidding me." Snake pulled up a dingy chair that looked as though it would barely support his weight and perched himself on it. He feigned shock, but he had known deep within that Metal Gear would return. He had just hoped otherwise, and wished that he could have just stayed holed up doing nothing in Alaska. Strange, he'd longed for the battlefield; now faced with it, he dreaded the prospect of returning to battle.
"I wish I was, Snake," Otacon said, his eyes darting to the window now and then nervously, as if waiting for something to happen. Just then, there was banging on the door. Otacon snapped the laptop down and stuffed it under the moth-eaten bed, not shutting it down properly. His eyes darted to the door, swift and alert. How he'd changed, Snake thought. He'd learned about the real world, no doubt, and had some time to reflect on it.
"Who's there?" Otacon asked, feigning confidence in his voice. But he wavered, and Snake could tell that he was at his wits end, and that his attitude was just a front, a reaction to whatever had happened to him these last few years.
"Chill, Hal, it's just me, Leon!" A cheery voice yelled through the door. Otacon looked relieved, and Snake relaxed too, knowing that this was probably someone he knew. He just hoped he hadn't been putting himself in danger. How many other people knew about the existence of Metal Gear?
Otacon rushed over and unlocked the door. It opened, and Leon slid through, and Otacon swiftly closed and bolted it behind him.
Snake assessed the young man standing towards him. He was scruffy, with ginger hair and a goatee beard and glasses, a real geek, just like Otacon. He stood in jeans and a scraggy t-shirt; hands on his hips, and Snake knew he was getting the assessment treatment too.
"Ah, is this your friend, Hal... Ex-military?" Leon offered his hand to Snake, but Snake looked at it as if he'd just been offered a slab of ice. Leon quickly withdrew his hand.
"You could say that," Snake replied coldly, giving a warning glance to Otacon. Just how much had Otacon told this stranger about him and all the secrets of Metal Gear? He could be anybody, Snake thought.
Otacon walked over and hugged Leon, "Don't worry, Snake," he said, "I know what you're thinking, but don't worry, you can trust Leon. He's my boyfriend."
I'm getting too old for this, Snake thought, his eyes looking at Otacon, then Leon, then Otacon again, beaming with happiness and seeming one hundred times more confident now his partner was around.
"Any more surprises for me, Otacon?" Snake asked, just a little irked. He'd come all this way and learned far more than was comfortable to absorb in one day.
"Yeah, just one more thing..." Otacon said, slightly reticently, "It seems now that Ocelot sold the plans to every interested party on the planet; Metal Gear is here to stay. Leon and I have talked about setting up an organization to monitor these Metal Gears and well... deal with them if necessary..."
"And that's where I come in," Snake grumbled. He could see where this was going; Otacon had only called him because he was useful, he thought angrily.
"Well, yeah..." Otacon admitted, "I'm sorry, Snake, but we can't just ignore Metal Gear! Even I had to stop running away..." He looked to Leon, who gave him a reassuring smile, telling him he was doing the right thing.
"You called me out of retirement, I come all this damn way to find out you've shared information about Metal Gear to this guy who could be anybody..." he glared at Leon before continuing, "and then you think you can just start up an organization, using me as your pawn? Think again, Otacon. Metal Gear isn't my responsibility anymore!" Snake shouted, anger filling his veins. Even as he shouted, he knew he was giving in, he knew that Otacon was right, but he couldn't face it again, he couldn't face Metal Gear anymore.
"Find someone else," he said, "I'm not fit for this anymore. This is a job for a younger man." He walked over to the door and unbolted it, desperate to get out of the room where the walls were closing in on him, guiding him to the ultimate conclusion.
He was running away.
"So this is Solid Snake? Huh, great hero, Hal," Leon said sardonically, "You made him out to sound like a god, but he's just a frightened child."
"Stop it, Leon," Hal said, "Let him go, it's his choice whether he participates or not. It's his life on the line, after all."
Snake slammed the door behind him.
"He's our only choice, Hal, and you know it." Leon replied, as Otacon slumped down on the bed, deep in thought.
Had he hurt Snake somehow? Had the admission of him being gay on top of Metal Gear been too much for him to take? Otacon buried his head in his hands, and sighed. This wasn't going to be easy as it was, but it had just gotten a whole lot harder.
^*^
Pairings: You'll see.
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: To be determined. This chapter is probably a PG. Story will probably be PG-13/R
Contact: [email protected]
Beta: None as yet
Atonement
Flashing neon lights, dancing girls in tight leather, and the smell of too much booze. Not the kind of environment he imagined Otacon to be residing in by choice, but he himself didn't mind it. In fact, he quite liked it.
Solid Snake stood by the bar, dressed in a long, dark trench coat that was wet from the rain outside. He tapped his foot. Snake didn't mind having a drink or two, or smoking a few cigarettes, but he really hated hanging around in public places. They carried risk, and he was tired of it. He'd shied away from humanity with only animals for company to escape it.
So why was he here?
He lit up another cigarette to calm himself, wondering to himself if it was a trap, when a door behind the bar opened and Otacon beckoned him forward. He looked drained, thin, like he'd been through a lot of stress.
Snake slipped through the door discreetly; Otacon didn't stop to greet him, but hurried up the stairs like something was chasing him. Or would be soon, Snake wondered. Is this why he'd called him here, to bail him out of trouble? Typical. Everyone always needed his help; he could never enjoy his retirement in peace.
Enjoy. In peace. Ha, he thought, at the mere mention of those words. He hadn't been enjoying his retirement, he'd just existed through it, aching for the battlefield, the adrenaline. Meryl had offered him an alternate distraction, a different kind of fire, but he woke one day to find her gone, and a note to say she'd gone on a personal mission and would never return. That day, one of his huskies had fallen gravely sick and he'd had to put it out of its misery. He'd felt more upset over the sorrow of losing an innocent animal then he did over Meryl, who had chosen to return to the killing grounds despite everything she had told him to the contrary. He wasn't even angry; he simply had no faith in the human race anymore.
Maybe that was why he had come: to search once again for faith in people. He had to admit, there was an innocence in Otacon he coveted, a naivety that had led to the creation of Metal Gear, perhaps, but a lack of aggression and a light of hope, even in such dismal times. Yet he could see little trace of that now. Otacon looked drawn and pale, tired and sick, as though he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a very long time. Snake couldn't help wonder what he'd gotten into this time.
Otacon quickly ushered him into a room on the top floor, which he locked behind him. There were three locks on the door.
"Just what are you running from, anyway?" Snake asked, his voice gruff. He'd flown out from Alaska, after receiving a cryptic telephone message, "I almost didn't come."
Otacon could see Snake's patience was running out. He flipped up his laptop and pointed to the screen.
"I've found Metal Gear," he said.
^*^
"You're kidding me." Snake pulled up a dingy chair that looked as though it would barely support his weight and perched himself on it. He feigned shock, but he had known deep within that Metal Gear would return. He had just hoped otherwise, and wished that he could have just stayed holed up doing nothing in Alaska. Strange, he'd longed for the battlefield; now faced with it, he dreaded the prospect of returning to battle.
"I wish I was, Snake," Otacon said, his eyes darting to the window now and then nervously, as if waiting for something to happen. Just then, there was banging on the door. Otacon snapped the laptop down and stuffed it under the moth-eaten bed, not shutting it down properly. His eyes darted to the door, swift and alert. How he'd changed, Snake thought. He'd learned about the real world, no doubt, and had some time to reflect on it.
"Who's there?" Otacon asked, feigning confidence in his voice. But he wavered, and Snake could tell that he was at his wits end, and that his attitude was just a front, a reaction to whatever had happened to him these last few years.
"Chill, Hal, it's just me, Leon!" A cheery voice yelled through the door. Otacon looked relieved, and Snake relaxed too, knowing that this was probably someone he knew. He just hoped he hadn't been putting himself in danger. How many other people knew about the existence of Metal Gear?
Otacon rushed over and unlocked the door. It opened, and Leon slid through, and Otacon swiftly closed and bolted it behind him.
Snake assessed the young man standing towards him. He was scruffy, with ginger hair and a goatee beard and glasses, a real geek, just like Otacon. He stood in jeans and a scraggy t-shirt; hands on his hips, and Snake knew he was getting the assessment treatment too.
"Ah, is this your friend, Hal... Ex-military?" Leon offered his hand to Snake, but Snake looked at it as if he'd just been offered a slab of ice. Leon quickly withdrew his hand.
"You could say that," Snake replied coldly, giving a warning glance to Otacon. Just how much had Otacon told this stranger about him and all the secrets of Metal Gear? He could be anybody, Snake thought.
Otacon walked over and hugged Leon, "Don't worry, Snake," he said, "I know what you're thinking, but don't worry, you can trust Leon. He's my boyfriend."
I'm getting too old for this, Snake thought, his eyes looking at Otacon, then Leon, then Otacon again, beaming with happiness and seeming one hundred times more confident now his partner was around.
"Any more surprises for me, Otacon?" Snake asked, just a little irked. He'd come all this way and learned far more than was comfortable to absorb in one day.
"Yeah, just one more thing..." Otacon said, slightly reticently, "It seems now that Ocelot sold the plans to every interested party on the planet; Metal Gear is here to stay. Leon and I have talked about setting up an organization to monitor these Metal Gears and well... deal with them if necessary..."
"And that's where I come in," Snake grumbled. He could see where this was going; Otacon had only called him because he was useful, he thought angrily.
"Well, yeah..." Otacon admitted, "I'm sorry, Snake, but we can't just ignore Metal Gear! Even I had to stop running away..." He looked to Leon, who gave him a reassuring smile, telling him he was doing the right thing.
"You called me out of retirement, I come all this damn way to find out you've shared information about Metal Gear to this guy who could be anybody..." he glared at Leon before continuing, "and then you think you can just start up an organization, using me as your pawn? Think again, Otacon. Metal Gear isn't my responsibility anymore!" Snake shouted, anger filling his veins. Even as he shouted, he knew he was giving in, he knew that Otacon was right, but he couldn't face it again, he couldn't face Metal Gear anymore.
"Find someone else," he said, "I'm not fit for this anymore. This is a job for a younger man." He walked over to the door and unbolted it, desperate to get out of the room where the walls were closing in on him, guiding him to the ultimate conclusion.
He was running away.
"So this is Solid Snake? Huh, great hero, Hal," Leon said sardonically, "You made him out to sound like a god, but he's just a frightened child."
"Stop it, Leon," Hal said, "Let him go, it's his choice whether he participates or not. It's his life on the line, after all."
Snake slammed the door behind him.
"He's our only choice, Hal, and you know it." Leon replied, as Otacon slumped down on the bed, deep in thought.
Had he hurt Snake somehow? Had the admission of him being gay on top of Metal Gear been too much for him to take? Otacon buried his head in his hands, and sighed. This wasn't going to be easy as it was, but it had just gotten a whole lot harder.
^*^