Chapter Text
Snake swims out of the tanker wreckage, just in time to watch Metal Gear RAY slip into the water. The resulting wave knocks him into the rapidly sinking boat, and he realizes just how cold the water is. He’s still seeing stars from being thrown against the wall of the tanker.
“Snaaake!” Otacon’s voice echoes through his codec.
“Otacon, the tanker’s down. I’ll meet you on shore.” Snake goes as fast as possible, trying to escape the pull of the wreckage. Panic gnaws at the back of his mind, but he pushes it down. A steel beam whizzes past him, nearly taking him under the water. He needs to get out of here, now. “I’ll see you there.”
“Wait! Where are you-” Otacon’s voice starts, but Snake cuts the link forcibly. Rain starts falling as he searches for the shoreline.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a coast guard boat cutting swiftly through the water, and scrambles to hide behind a chunk of debris.
Mistake.
Snake turns just in time to find another steel plate headed straight toward him, like a freight train. He lunges out of the way, getting pulled down under the water. The air escapes his lungs, the river water is stinging his eyes. Snake claws his way to the surface, but not before knocking his head sharply on the bottom of a floating locker.
His head breaks the surface, headband clinging coldly to his forehead. His body temperature is dropping rapidly, he realizes, as he feels pins and needles in his hands. Snake blinks, swimming forward in a feeble attempt to make it to shore. The water works against him, and he expends more energy than he should on a strategy he isn’t sure will work.
How long has he been in the water? His limbs feel like blocks of lead, sinking him deeper and deeper into the Hudson. He can’t seem to orient himself, aimlessly treading water and looking for shore.
Chattering teeth, roaring water, pouring rain.
A piece of the tanker’s hull smashes into Snake’s back, and he goes under the freezing water once again.
Lungfuls of liquid ice, blood seeping from his back.
He makes his way back up to the surface, trying to take in as much air as he can, though quickly realizing his mistake as he chokes up water. Snake feels lightheaded, and he can barely move to keep his head above water.
Drowning. He’s going to die.
He can’t feel his extremities, and he’s pretty sure his blood is frozen in his veins. A piece of steel floats by, and he clings to it with all the strength he can muster.
Pins and needles, pins and needles…
The water rushes past, driving screws and bolts and debris into his lower body. He raises his hand to his ear, trying again to call Otacon.
Pins and needles, pins and needles.
“Otacon- do you hear me?” He says weakly. His ears are still ringing, and his hands are slipping off the metal. The gash on his back feels like it’s on fire, but he feels so exhausted. Snake can’t keep his eyes open. If Otacon responds to his call, he doesn’t hear it.
Pins and needles, pins and…
It’s getting harder to breathe. Snake knows he needs to get to shore, away from the search parties. If they find him, who knows what they’ll do. Kill him, probably. If he isn’t already frozen solid. The searchlights dance behind his closed eyes.
Pins and… needles…
Otacon is going to find his dead body, washed up on shore a week from now. He’ll see it in the papers, and he’ll have to go on the run. They’ll know Otacon was helping him. Snake knows he needs to fight, he needs to get up and swim to safety, but he can’t find the strength to move.
Pins…
A blaring alarm in his ears blasts him out of unconsciousness, followed by a frightened voice he knows all too well.
“Snake, can you hear me? Where are you?!” Otacon’s voice is cut into by the hissing of the river. He’s coming to get him. Otacon is going to save him.
“I don’t…” Snake starts, finding it hard to search for words. “I’m floating,” he says, unhelpfully.
“I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake. Have you passed any bridges since the tanker sank?” His voice is rushed, and Snake blinks his eyes open, trying to decipher his surroundings. Nothing but rain and endless, endless water.
“Otacon, I don’t…” He closes his eyes again, not possessing enough strength to keep them open. Snake’s world is spinning, and he can hear Otacon talking in his ear. He can’t make it out. His hands slip off the debris and his world goes black.
Snake is brought roughly back to reality, gasping and hacking his lungs out. Slowly, he opens his eyes, staring directly into Otacon’s face. A flash of lighting illuminates him, lighting up his terrified features.
His entire body hurts, his lungs are on fire, and he can’t keep his eyes open for longer than a second. Otacon says something, he still can’t understand or focus on it long enough to try to decipher it. He thinks about first meeting Otacon, about Zanzibar, about Alaska and his dogs.
Guardian angel. The thought pops into his head unwarranted, and he would laugh at the idea if he could. Here he is, a trained killer dying on the floor of Otacon’s boat, but his mind chooses to conjure the image of his partner swooping down from the heavens and picking him out from danger. A savior for an anathematized man.
As quickly as the thought came, though, it left. Snake slips back into sleep, not knowing if he’d wake back up. At least he wouldn’t have to be so damn cold.
“No, no, no, you need to stay awake!”
Otacon watches as Snake suddenly pitches to the side, coughing what seems like half of the Hudson River out of his lungs. His eyes remain closed as he heaves and gasps large mouthfuls of air in between coughing fits. Blood is all over his hands, spilling over the floor of his boat.
“Snake!” Otacon says, grabbing him by the shoulders and studying Snake’s face carefully, watching to see if he’s lucid. Snake’s eyelids flutter open, though his eyes bounce from side to side, occasionally rolling back into his head. “Look at me, please, come on!” For a second, Snake’s half-lidded eyes focus on Otacon. They look tired, exhausted; the sight of it makes Otacon’s breath catch. He’d intended to say something to his partner, but he falters. A sound escapes from Snake’s grey-blue lips, something dangerously close to a death rattle as his labored breaths contine. His eyes slip shut again.
It’s at this point that Otacon realizes that finding Snake was the easy part- keeping him alive will prove to be more arduous. He scans Snake again, more thoroughly, to find any more injuries. There’s another cut on his thigh that’s bleeding profusely, he’s bleeding from somewhere on his back, and one of his gloves has been torn to the point that he can see the blue skin underneath.
“Otacon.” The voice is so quiet and hoarse that Otacon nearly mistakes it for faraway thunder. His attention snaps to Snake’s face, and he stares at him with wide eyes.
“Snake?” Otacon’s hands are busy tying a tourniquet around Snake’s thigh, but he stills for a moment.
“There’s… something you…” Snake inhales sharply, inducing another harsh coughing fit. His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out to Otacon, but he can’t muster up the strength. “Gotta know.”
“What?” He replies, genuinely confused that Snake would have a pearl of wisdom as he slips in and out of consciousness. A clap of thunder illuminates the sky, and Otacon can see just how much blood has drained from Snake’s face. The sight makes him panic, but he tries to calm himself for his partner’s sake. Snake takes in a shaky breath, gagging on leftover river water in his system.
“Love you.” The words are mumbled, so close to being incomprehensible, but they’re clear as day to him. Otacon freezes. He can’t count the amount of times he’d dreamed of those words, but this- this is a horrid twist of fate, a nightmarish irony designed specifically to torment Otacon.
Images of the signature on the tip flash through his mind. Snake is dying, and it’s all his fault. He trusted a tip, something he’d never think of doing, but he trusted it because he selfishly thought that E. E. wouldn’t try to hurt him- hurt Snake. The sinking feeling in his stomach grows as he lets out a sob. It’s all Otacon’s fault, it always is, he always-
A strong thunderclap shakes the boat and Otacon to his core. The wind howls viciously around them, cutting through his windbreaker. Snake shivers harshly, closer to a spasm than a chatter, and a trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth.
“Snake?” Otacon’s voice quivers, filled with horror. Snake isn’t moving anymore, and the sight of his motionless partner on the deck is enough to override his brain. Until Snake is safe and alive.
Severe Hypothermia-
Otacon ties off the tourniquet, he scrambles for the steering wheel to get Snake out of here as fast as possible.
-typically occurs at 85 degrees-
Otacon is kneeling in the boat, unable to see over the console and tend to Snake at the same time. He reaches down to take the pulse in Snake’s neck, letting out a pained yell when it feels like a hummingbird under his fingertips.
-dry as soon as possible.
The rain pours down on the both of them as Otacon veers into a tiny dock. He grabs onto Snake by the armpits, struggling to drag him onto the wooden platform. Snake feels like a sack of bricks- Otacon shakes his head at the thought of him being so lifeless. No, Snake is alive, but not if he can’t warm him back up. Otacon clears the boat of anything he might have left behind, and tries to haul Snake into an alleyway. He stumbles, quickly realizing that he doesn’t know where he is. Rain continues to beat down on him, making his glasses utterly useless. The cut on Snake’s back is bleeding all over his shirt, coat, pants, everything.
-can include slurred speech, confusion, amnesia, etc.
“Snake, stay with me!” He kneels over him once more, gently cradling his face as he attempts to locate any landmarks to point him in the direction of their apartment. Snake mumbles out a reply that sounds more like the last rasps of a dying man than words.
Shivering is often absent-
Otacon winces as he realizes that Snake hasn’t moved more than his lungs in several minutes.
It’s getting worse.
“Snake, listen, you have to stay awake, please…” Otacon pulls Snake’s limp body over his shoulder, feeling his wheezing breaths on the shell of his ear. One of Snake’s arms gets looped around Otacon’s shoulders, and Otacon holds his hand tight. Snake’s head lolls to one side as Otacon heaves through the alleyway, trying to get as far away from the searchlights as possible.
Otacon’s foot sinks into a deep puddle in the street, sending both of them careening forward. He twists in mid air, trying to break Snake’s fall.
He crashes into the pavement on his shoulder, crying out as pain sears through the joint, made worse by the hundred and sixty pound man currently lying on top of him. Snake didn’t react to the fall, still unmoving.
-can cause lack of reflexes-
Otacon lurches to his feet, nearly tipping over again as Snake almost slips off his shoulder and onto the ground. Groaning through the sharp burst of pain, he readjusts Snake, whose head falls forward. Otacon grabs onto Snake’s hand and loops his arm around his shoulders; Snake’s feet drag along the ground. Otacon is glad Snake isn’t taller than him, though he wishes for the millionth time since leaving the dock that he was conscious. Snake weighs so much , his muscles are screaming, he’s soaked to the bone, his teeth are chattering, and he just needs to get Snake warm and dry.
Expected survival time-
Otacon trips over worn brick steps, realizing with a glimmer of hope that he’d made it. A decrepit, broken door set into a wall of nondescript concrete and brick. An utterly unremarkable apartment in a broken down block of evicted homes. A dismal sight to anyone except Otacon.
They made it to their safehouse.