Chapter Text
When on a mission, every second counted.
When she was fighting to save lives, even a millisecond made a difference in the world. An added moment either meant life or death when she was in battle. An added moment chose whether she could walk or see where she was going.
It was easy to not worry about time when her life wasn’t on the line. Milliseconds passed by as she leisurely read a book in the quiet. Brief moments escaped her notice while she enjoyed her second cup of tea that day. She appreciated the way they slipped by -- it was far more relaxing.
Minutes, however, were another story. It took many minutes to get the power back up and running, and it took a lot of time to make sure everything wasn’t in shambles. It was always difficult in winter, and this time was no exception. As of now, the mansion was presentable. Good enough.
Samus exhaled slowly. That was only a distraction from the reason of her arrival, and she knew it. The hunter couldn’t keep her eyes off of the minute and hour hands, and how slowly they seemed to move.
She glanced at the clock near her desk. Next to it was a piece of faded paper, with a scrawled note. The handwriting was ... messy, to say the least, but legible. If it was a trap, she came prepared. The tournament was over, and the fighters were in and out. At the moment, no one was there.
It would be the perfect set-up if that was their intention.
There was a knock on her door.
Samus rose her head and glanced at the wooden door. Dust littered the corners of the entrance to her room, and on the carpet as well. She stood and strode over. A gloved hand gripped the door knob. Her teal eyes steeled over as she pulled it open.
She froze in place when she saw who was standing before her.
There was so much to ask. Question upon question died upon her lips in favor of stone cold silence. This did little to help; the quiet only amplified the tension between the old comrades. Both wanted to say something, but neither spoke. Their lips remained sealed.
The clock in the mansion’s cafeteria loomed above them. The ticks were almost deafening.
The bounty hunter finished her valerian root tea as the mercenary began to sip on his coffee. Their glasses hit the just-cleaned plates, and it broke the silence. He flinched, but otherwise said nothing. It was clear that she would have to initiate the conversation. Samus leaned forward. Blonde strands brushed against her shoulders as she propped her chin onto her hands. She got a brief look at him before, but now she was able to examine him carefully.
The changes were almost overwhelming. The burns enveloped half of his face, and he was so old. There was no other word for it. His eyes showed nothing but wear and tear ... and pain. His hair had faded into a stark white, with no traces of brown to be seen. His exhaustion was clear, and his downcast expression made her heart sink.
What had happened to Solid Snake?
One soft sentence pierced through the quiet. “It’s been a while, Snake.” He simply grunted and nodded in agreement. Samus frowned, then folded her hands onto the table. She kept her head up to look him in the eye.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” came the reply. She was taken aback. While Samus was quite used to his gritty, low voice, this sounded different. The smoking must have taken a toll on his voice, along with the old age. Only a few years had passed at this point. What on Earth had happened in that time? “... considering what I did to you and all.”
The hunter simply held out the note on the worn, tattered paper. She laid it flat on the cafeteria table. It was just readable under the skylight. Sun filtered through to illuminate the message.
‘Come to the mansion.’
“I had no idea if anyone was in danger or not,” she began. “No reason was given. No identity as to who wrote the note. If it was a hostage situation, I didn’t want to ignore it. If it wasn’t, then ... good.” Samus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The silence pushed through, but only for a brief moment. If she stopped talking now, she’d never be able to ask the first question on her mind.
“Why did you never contact me after the tourney, Snake?”
He didn’t respond right away. He dug into one of his pockets. It was strange to see him in such casual clothing. Much to her disgust, Snake pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Her piercing stare went ignored; he stared at the cigarettes for a brief moment before he tossed them aside. Then, he let out a ragged cough.
“Tried to. After the messages never went through, I just gave up. I had other things on my mind, too, you know.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I see you’re still a jackass as always.”
“Did you really expect anything else?” The two chuckled to themselves. He stopped before her. Samus examined his expression, and was unable to read him. Her hands clenched together tightly. “Look. I don’t want to beat around the bush.” Snake laid his palms flat on the table. “I don’t have much time left.”
Samus tensed up. She felt her heart pound, but she forced herself to keep calm. “Pardon?” Her shaky tone did not go unnoticed by the mercenary.
“I just said. I don’t have much time left. Six months, at the most.” He leaned back in his chair, and let out a heavy sigh. “... Some ... friends of mine are going to keep me company. I had to get away for a while, though. Needed to be alone.”
“And your idea of being alone was coming to see me?” Her eyes narrowed. More questions came to mind. “Snake, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Listen -- we spent a lot of time together at the tournament. You know that.” Snake bowed his head to look at the tablecloth. “I didn’t want to leave you wondering where I was, what I was doing, and if I was still alive.”
She listened to him speak. He was constantly interrupted by hacking coughs; even she could see him struggle to finish his sentences as he wrestled with the pain. Many moments passed by before he spoke again. “... Can we stay here? Just for a while. I need time away, and I really don’t want to go back to Alaska. Figured you could keep me company.”
“How long?”
He pondered this for a brief moment. “... Couple of weeks. I don’t want to stay any longer than a month, though.”
Samus nodded, and the ticking of the clock once again enveloped her ears.