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FOXHOUND commander Liquid Snake looked at blinking colorful Christmas lights in his cup, and then downed the soda in one go. He was catching his breath after busting a groove to the song from Rocky. The ongoing party was celebrating both New Year and a milestone in development of the Metal Gear. Soon the project would be complete, and then Snake would seize it, getting both the nuclear deterrent for his Outer Heaven and a bargaining chip to get free from CIA's shackles and the cursed legacy of Big Boss. He was always alert, as he should be, but these days he found himself restless more often. The tense expectancy filled him with energy and lit the path to his bright future. He waited impatiently for the battle where he would fulfil his fate and show the world who he is — grow out of being someone's project or descendant into his own man to be reckoned with. He will take the dream of Outer Heaven from his father's dead hands and become the one who made it reality. He gave that excitement an outlet by walking around the base before sleep, checking surveillance and keeping an eye for any weak points in patrol routes or blind spots granted by architecture and landscape. Besides, the old pines raising to the starry sky and majestic rocks covered in snow set a fitting scene for contemplation of his future triumph.
That evening, the stars were dimmed by the lamps and colourful lights in the room. Snake shook off his thoughts and casted a look over his surroundings. The walls were adorned with string lights, paper garlands hung from the ceiling, and by the wall stood a small plastic Christmas tree with a pile of corporate gift boxes underneath. Scientists and troops in shirts and lab coats, fatigues and casual clothing were sitting in small groups, drinking from cans and fancy glassware, walking around; some were getting back to dancing. In the corner there was a small commotion by the arcade machine, people playing the new fighting game about some buff guy in red gloves trying to end his nightmares by winning a fighting tournament. Snake took account of his most skilled people and the rest of the crowd. Vulkan Raven was looking sleepy, likely going to leave soon. Sniper Wolf was snacking on tapas during a languid conversation with Decoy Octopus and some nerd. Psycho Mantis was nowhere to be seen — he couldn't enjoy large social gatherings like this (and randy party moods being transmitted directly into his mind), despite being cheerful lately, either picking off the facility's good spirits or just enjoying the holidays and the smooth execution of their plan. A group of genome soldiers were using the opportunity to get to know their R&D colleagues. Trout, who was off duty tomorrow and thus was allowed to drink, was already tipsy, smugly telling something to a couple of laughing engineers in corny christmas sweaters. Tapir politely kept him company but looked like he'd rather join the dancing mechanic who kept catching his wondering gaze. Gazelle was still having a push-up contest with a nuclear physicist, gathering a group of observers that somewhat dissolved after the count reached 50. On a bean bag chair, two boffins were cuddling. Snake remembered seeing few of his subordinates leaving earlier in couples.
The facility's need in cooks, cleaning workers, repairmen and every other job position except highly qualified engineers and physicists was staffed with Snake's people: they already had good cooks and mechanics among the soldiers, and the grunt work was done by whoever was on duty. That way, the island was only populated by the scientists, FOXHOUND and genome soldiers, keeping the number of people involved to the minimum. The soldiers and the scientists lived separately and mostly spent time with their own kind, spending long months of being stationed here in the company of same dozen of people. Now many were rushing to gab, make a new buddy or flirt with a hottie, hoping that festive mood and alcohol would help their chances of spending the night in a warm embrace. Snake could use a bit of socializing, too.
He looked at the arcade again. It was recently installed in the rec room — benefits of good funding — offering them the latest development in the world of videogames. The most avid gamers had crowded around it for a week or two before their wish to look nowhere near a screen after work won over the appeal of whatever gaming feats they were yet to perform. The party brought it back to the spotlight, but not for long: most challengers already got their share and left. It reminded Snake of another game he played in an arcade hall he used to visit to unwind or blow off some steam. He only made it to the top 5 of the scoreboard — but the experience was an advantage. The gameplay was pretty much the same: two characters moving right and left, throwing high, low and middle kicks and punches at each other. He walked up to the arcade and stood behind the players. The lead developer was having his seemingly 20th round versus one of the cooks, Caribou, who looked agitated but already tired. Snake was observing a white bear with a fish rolling into something like a man with a tiger's head, not leaving him any chance to recover and counterattack. He mentally noted the strategy for later. Snake watched Caribou lose the fight, unable to counter, and win the next one, then placed a hand on his shoulder. Snake was looking for a way to entertain himself, and the arcade would do just fine.
"Let me try."
The cook looked almost relieved. "Sure, boss!"
He called it a good game, shook hands with his opponent and retreated in bathroom direction.
"Up for a game? Just give me a moment." The engineer smiled, took a sip from his glass and cracked his joints. His look slid across the arcade, sliding over the room, assessing the surroundings after being engrossed in the game for so long. "I haven't seen you at the arcade before. Can you play?"
"Haven't seen you either, Dr. Emmerich", Snake retorted. "I haven't played this one yet, but I'm no newbie. And surely it can't be that different from real life", he couldn't help but taunt a bit.
The man took another sip, set the drink aside and pushed his glasses up. "We'll see", his smile widened into a smirk. Challenge was accepted.
Snake picked the main character he'd seen in video sequences before and was pleased to learn it was possible to make the gloves white instead of red. It didn't take long to figure out the basics. Snake learned to block by standing still, and to bypass the block by choosing high or low attacks to counter the opponent's stance. He managed to bring the engineer's health down a considerate amount before failing to dodge a punch and being caught in a chain of attacks before he could recover and retribute. At the beginning of next round, he paused the game and looked at the controls tutorial.
"You weren't lying about being no newbie", said his opponent while Snake was trying to pick out and remember the combos that seemed most convenient.
"Let's proceed", Snake sounded focused, nowhere as amused as his rival.
It wasn't easy to slip in a hit between the constant dodging with the engineer's aggresive playstyle, but Snake was capable of anything if he really set his mind to it. He put to use his natural reaction speed and motor skills, honed with years of training and prior arcade experience, and hit all the necessary controls within the timeframe without much trial and error. Soon he got his first victory, and resolved to get more use of the lightning attacks.
"Boss!" Snake was so absorbed in the game he didn't notice Trout approach them. The man looked a bit flushed whenever he needed to address Snake directly, and maintaining eye contact clearly costed him extra effort. Snake politely ignored his obvious little crush every time, and his subordinate seemed thankful for that. "Permission to take Gazelle's..." — Snake raised an eyebrow, Trout glanced at the engineer and corrected himself — "Dan's evening shift tomorrow?"
Snake took a moment assessing Trout's state. He looked almost sober. "You shouldn't have drunk tonight if you want that", he frowned. A pause settled. Trout didn't break eye contact but clenched his fists nervously. Usually Snake wouldn't tolerate anything below peak condition in his patrol, but Trout never failed his duties so far (except the blunder just now), and the commander was in a good mood. He could extend his grace this once. "Come see the element leader tomorrow at 1400, and if he deems your state appropriate, I permit it." Trout's face lit up. "But don't expect any more exceptions. I need you battle ready." As their commander, he'd rather they all quit alcohol altogether, but didn't want to waste his authority on things that wouldn't be achieved; besides, he himsef enjoyed a drink on a rare occasion. "Dismissed."
"Thank you, boss!" The man beamed with happiness about getting special treatment. He hurried to leave.
Snake felt... somehow about the situation. The doctor seemed slightly amused, but didn't comment. Anyway, it would be forgotten soon, as Snake was getting really into the game. He enjoyed videogames and the competition fired him up in a good way; besides, being on good terms with the lead engineer would allow him to overlook both parts of the operation. Despite thinking that, he didn't make any effort to talk to his playfellow, focusing on the game instead.
Soon he became unstoppable, and steadily got to the point of winning more battles than losing.
"You're beating my ass, commander", the engineer stated cheerfully. Snake felt a slight surge of adrenaline before it got suppressed by nanomachines.
"Took me quite a bit to get there", he returned the compliment.
Now that he got a hang of the game and could let his attention wander, Snake became aware of their surroundings again. The room was almost empty, just a scientist nursing her drink and three agitated people having a lively discussion near the window, stealing glances at the starry sky. It wasn't too late yet, but his soldiers had a schedule, and the lab rats were probably eager to escape the cold and darkness to their cozy bedrooms. Thanks to nanomachines, Snake's inner clock wasn't impacted by early sunsets, and he didn't feel the night chill that makes you want to seek out warmth, but he could still imagine it vividly. His thoughts drifted back to the cuddly couple, then to Trout. He didn't entertain the thought. Snake was strong, experienced, passionate, and didn't miss an opportunity to show off his body, sculpted by many years of training and physical work. His superior position could be a factor too, but that's exactly what kept him from starting a fling on Shadow Moses, being in charge of all the deployed troops; not to mention all genome soldiers being his brothers. Snake didn't complain: it was a small price for his much gratifying duties and the power, and besides, he shared a bond with his friends at FOXHOUND — and many genome soldiers too, the men enlisting for his future revolution. He had friends, brothers and allies; he even had Ocelot, who was around when he was young, to witness how Snake'd grown into a fine man. But despite all that, sometimes Snake found himself longing for something different: a person to cherish, woo and spoil, to be his conquest as a lover rather than a warrior, a warm embrace to spend the night before heading out to the violent battle and uncertain victory, a pair of beautiful eyes to admire him giving it his all. Sure, Mantis was a witness to his struggles, external and internal, for most of his life; but Snake was unsure whether that much intimacy was a good or bad thing. In secret, he also wanted a heart to stay and mourn him when he'd be gone. But he was destined to prevail and wasn't about to wallow in defeatist sentiments.
Snake wondered if the engineer felt the night chill. He shot a look between rounds. It was hard to tell; the man just looked pleased and tired. Snake was so engrossed in the game he forgot his opponent lacked Snake's experience and augmentations to stay awake for extended periods of time. Well, he had enough fun for the evening, too.
"That's enough for me, this is the last round", he said.
The engineer hummed. The characters on the screen were ready to fight.
Snake won that one, of course. The bear on the screen fell to the floor, the fish sticking out from behind his back.
"Good game", doctor stretched, staring behind the character selection screen.
"Likewise". Snake observed him with interest. He could respect the skill and dedication. Besides, now that he wasn't busy he could recognise engineer's tired face as somewhat lovely. He recalled it wearing expression of sharp focus and agitation just recently, during their game with Caribou. "It's late. Care to walk to the dorms together?"
Doctor accepted the offer. He put on his parka, Snake put on his FOXHOUND trench coat, leaving it open. Unlike desert nights he still remembered vividly, the sky just as starry, the physical cold was sorted out by nanomachines. His sensitivity to the chill of a lonely evening was purely psychological. Doctor kept glancing at his bare torso, unused to seeing Snake outside.
The silence was comfortable, but Snake had to build a rapport with the lead engineer, in the best interests of his operation.
"Are you cold, Dr. Emmerich?" He quipped, looking at the scientist shivering despite being tightly wrapped in his warm parka.
"All this time here and I still haven't gotten used to the cold and slippery snow, no matter how i dress", he sighed. "But despite the cold, the scenery and fresh air makes the walks worth it, don't you think? Before the work got this busy, I used to walk the wolfdogs, you know. Not that they needed it — roaming all over the island-", he paused awkwardly, "well, now in the caves at least, all day as they please. It's rather like they walked me after a day of sitting at the desk."
"If I had to take a dog along for my morning laps, it couldn't keep up and would get tired too fast", Snake couldn't help but frown a little. The engineer looked at him funny. Snake had to salvage the situation somehow. "But I agree, the scenery is beautiful. A fitting cradle for a project like REX." He ceased walking and paused for a bit, both of them looking into distant darkness where even the light of starry sky failed to reach the snow. "NASA is launching another Discovery spacecraft, as you already know. Its mission goal is to make a crater on Tempel 1 comet. It had been observed for a while but was thought impossible to hit until the mission proposal was developed in 1999. Now we are about to shake that piece of dust and ice moving at a high speed hundreds millions of kilometers away, leave a dent on it and get some solid samples to bring back and study. For millenia comets were heralds of fate, harbringers of curses — but nothing is unreachable for a well-crafted missile." Much like another technically-not-missile that will also soon leave an impact on human history. Snake turned away from the darkness to face the engineer. "The final stage is scheduled for June. All these months the spacecraft will be dashing through the sky, a pinnacle of our technical achievments as a species, getting furter from Earth and extending humans' reach." Snake was sure the man was a space nerd, with a name like that and a history of high prifile engineering employment.
His companion's face lit up. "Astonishing mission. Universe is full of endless possibilities, infinitely diverse materials and even species waiting to be discovered on infinite remote planets. I can't wait for them to get a piece of comet here on Earth. Space photography is amazing but this will be something else!", his eyes sparkled. "Space exploration will be big in XXI century, bringing people and even countries together! A lot of resources and brainpower is needed to design, manufacture and launch a spacecraft. It is a great example of practical science being put to good use, uniting the world in one common effort! A welcome and much needed change since World War I, if you ask me." His smile faded a little, voice slightly peeved. Snake had his own thoughts on the nature of space industry, but kept them to himself. "I like to think of REX as something in between the two: a military product, but one designed to maintain peace and unity of the world, rather than wreak havoc." He looked proud of his creation. Snake let him keep the illusion for now. He would decide on the approach later.
"You have every right to be proud," he responded instead. It was true. "I have big hopes for the impact REX will have on the world, too, and am glad to be a part of its development." The engineer turned away and smiled. Snake laughed as he thought of something. "In a way, REX is our son, don't you think? You being the lead engineer, and me being the main security officer. You nurture him and bring him up, and I make sure nothing harms him." ("And that he plays a worthy role in history, like any decent father wishes upon his son", Snake thought.) "And all the other people working on it is the big corporate family", he finished with a joke to ease the tension.
"I guess so..." the engineer stared at the snow.
The comparison was crude but true. Moreover, its very crudeness fanned the coals of his neglected yearnings. Snake was still scrutinizing the idea, but didn't their job positions make them more or less equal? Wouldn't it be proper enough to hook up with the lead engineer, compared to other scientists who could feel threatened and pressured by his authority? Snake tried to keep out any thoughts about Huey, who also worked on a Metal Gear for him to hijack later. Suddenly, he was thinking hard whether fulfilling his romantic desires with Dr. Hal Emmerich was a viable strategy.
Snake was glad he couldn't blush due to nanomachines evening out his bodily reactions to any emotions. He looked at the engineer to read the room, but the man looked tired and sleepy more than anything. That was enough socialization for the night, he made a step and now it was time to let it sink in.
"I won't keep you any longer, Dr. Emmerich", Snake cringed internally from using his father's name after such thoughts. "Good night."
"Good night to you too-", he lingered a bit, "Liquid Snake. It's cool and all, but sounds a bit bizarre in this context, don't you think? Or have you already gotten used to it?" Doctor seemed to wake up a bit again, not really set on going inside anymore. "Are you allowed to share your, you know, regular name?"
"No", Snake replied, raising a brow with amused interest. He liked the codename system. "It's classified."
"Ah, I see." The engineer didn't look too upset. He paused to think for a moment. "How about Dan? I thought only FOXHOUND staff uses mandatory codenames. Gazelle, huh?"
Snake felt upset about Trout's drunken slip. But he would need to let the lead engineer in on his plan sooner or later — how in-depth was yet to be decided.
"Correct. Their names aren't classified, but they still have codenames, and some use it as a friendly nickname." It was almost true, only leaving out the context of upcoming revolution and Outer Heaven. Their legal names would be added to international wanted terrorist lists for defying the goverment and forcing their fate out of the state's claws. Those names are better left behind alongside their country.
"I see. Sounds a bit like aliases people use online to protect their identity."
"What's yours? I am sure you have one", Snake had seized the chance to get something polite enough to call him without thinking instantly of the other man.
"Cassified", he answered drolly. "Protection of identity means no one in real world should know." The man looked away, thinking about something. "But I think I can share one. It's Otacon, for otaku convention". That was fair enough. Otacon, huh.
"Now we are on the same ground", Snake winked. "Good night, Otacon."
"Good night, commander."
Snake caught himself wishing Otacon would call him something more personal, but couldn't think of any name he could give him. Instead, they just shook hands. "I will check on you in the morning", he said on a sudden impulse and left for the barracks.
Snake fell asleep as soon as he got to his cot, aided by short walk to the barracks, frosty fresh air and fatigue of the day. Or nanomachines regulated his hormones so he could get sufficient rest — he couldn't know for sure with these technologies. Anyway, he was fast asleep and woke up on time and feeling refreshed in the morning. The REX engineers seemed to be mostly owls, and their shift started later than Snake's; besides, today R&D had a day off after the party. He took his time doing morning workout, showering and shaving, and then checking on the morning patrols on his way to the mess hall. Trout was up and mostly awake, looking presentable, already chatting with the soldiers getting ready for noon duty. Snake had eggs with bacon and a cup of water for breakfast and then took another serving to bring to the civilian dorm.
By the time he was standing by the doctor's— Otacon's room, it was just 0900 hours. He set the breakfast aside, straightened his unbuttoned trench coat he wore over shirtless torso, raked a hand through his hair and made a determined face expression. He knocked. No answer. He knocked louder and heared a faint, sleepy "come in".
Snake opened the door a bit, took the breakfast and entered the room. Otacon was still in bed, wearing a crumpled T-shirt, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up. His chin was covered in stubble, his light hair messy and sticking out.
Then he looked at Snake standing in the doorframe. He was still squinting at the light, but his entire appearance had changed. He wasn't looking surprised by being woken up anymore, but rather baffled to see Snake in his room. He stared at Snake with adoration and disbelief, frozen and blushing, mouth slightly agape. Like he couldn't believe that Snake decided to follow through and check on him, like Snake's presence was a heavenly blessing upon his room. After few moments he sat up straight, fixed his fair and took his glasses from the nightstand.
In that long moment, Snake was confused about how he felt. That was everything he was cautiously dreaming of, the love and affection of another person. The longing for Snake to stand next to him was written all over that look. The admiration, sympathy, fondness; awkwardness also, but Snake didn't mind. He briefly felt being the centre of Otacon's existence. The memory of the chill started melting away.
Otacon unfroze and brought the glasses to his face. A single silent word, filled with tenderness and disbelief, left his mouth before he put them on.
"Wolf?.."
Once again Snake was glad the nanomachines supressed any inconvenient bodily expression of emotions. His stupefied expression turned into a scowl. But inside Snake was no longer confused. He wanted Otacon to look at him like that. He wanted to be the object of those feelings. He wanted to fulfil every dream he fought off during lonely evenings, and he wanted it from this man. He would dedicate all of his spare time and effort before the revolution to get Otacon to look at him like that, but really at him this time, not as a result of a sleepy misunderstanding. Any doubts he had in the evening were dispersed: it wasn't prohibited to spend time together, to give a coworker his attention, to seek out his company. He would take Otacon for walks every day, and surely make a better companion than some bloody mutt. He would bring him a drink after the morning meeting and have him for dinner after work. It might be hard to wine and dine him on an isolated island, but Snake would have the cooks whip up something for two as a favor. Bet Otacon couldn't even dream of fine cuisine before returning to mainland, and Snake could treat him to a five-star dinner right there! He'd put extra hours in the gym to look irresistible, and make sure his hair behaves. He would use his reconnaissance skills to find out whatever nerdy stuff Otacon might be into, and then use his connections to get the stuff delivered on base; or let him talk about the space exploration and engineering. Knowing the details of REX's inner workings could be beneficial in a pinch. He might even invite him to the shooting range and show off a bit — an alluring image came to Snake's mind: hugging Otacon from behind, directing his posture to form a decent shooting stance. Snake imagined a similar scenario in the gym; surely the engineer had to do something for his back after sitting at the desk all day. He could arrange a hot bath and get him warm, relaxed and flushed — if he decides it to be within the workplace ethics guidelines. He would court the man, make him desire Snake, and he would drink the fullness of life from that stare — directed at him! — before the time would come to risk it to bring about the dawn of his domain. Everything that bothered him on lonely night was fixable by getting into that man's pants — or the next best thing. And Snake was not the man to give up without trying.
"Uh, sorry", that look disappeared as soon as Otacon have recognised him. Only the awkwardness left, clearly signifying embarassment for the blunder now. "You do look a bit similar if you squint", the man added apologetically. "Trenchcoat, the hair.. bare chest", he chuckled. "Thank you for breakfast, commander."
Snake straightened his posture and looked him square in the eyes.
"Doctor, join me for dinner tonight!"
---
Hal woke up from a nightmare. That still happened few times a year. He dreamt of driving Philantropy car, Snake on the passenger seat, and hitting some large and beautiful animal. He hit the brakes and leaped out frantically to check on it and, to his further horror, found it to be a mangled blond person in a trench coat, disfigured by the impact. He tried desperately to make out whether it was Sniper Wolf or Liquid, but any distinct features not painfully mutilated beyond recognition were obscured by the hazy dream perception. He held them in his arms, tried to help, but could do nothing as life was leaving the creature's body. It was snowing, the ground somehow got already covered in cold white while Hal was kneeling beside the creature, and he was looking at the snowflakes, waiting with apprehension for them to stop melting from its breathing. The creature wheezed something. Hal couldn't hear the words, but understood it anyway. He wasn't even allowed to stay by her side, forced away to fruitlessly search for the rifle under the snow until he woke up.
The sins and mistakes of his past, grievous product of his deliberate ignorance or crucial weakness, haunted his dreams sometimes. This wasn't the first time (and likely not the last) he relived Wolf's death — and woke up alive, each time more years into the future she didn't get to witness. Liquid's appearance was a less frequent occasion. The bastard wasn't even really dead, arranging nuclear threats and other horrible things even after FOXDIE. He brought even more grief to Hal after they retrieved his body and dumped it into the river than while being still alive. Hal thought about it before. Liquid, in a way, caused his awakening, became a catalyst for realisation of what his own work really brought into the world. But he didn't stop at that, returning time and time again, and reaping a horrible payment. At the Shadow Moses, it was Wolf. At Big Shell, Emma. Hal wasn't sure it would stop at that. He caught some rumors Liquid was seen in Middle East, and was bracing for their next encounter.
But that was not all of it. Liquid wasn't just a deadly specter haunting him. Before the incident, Hal knew him as his coworker and as a man. Guilt pierced him at the memories of comfortable workplace life, office parties and pranks with other scientists while they were conveniently ignoring the obvious nature and true purpose of their project. But still, the Dr. Emmerich from those parties was inseparable from Otacon, and Liquid Snake, the security chief, must be just as much a part of the Liquid haunting him today. He didn't seem a bad man, back then. Troubled, sure, but who wasn't. Hal later learned from confidential files that he had difficult childhood, used to be a child soldier and had been held POW for few years before being rescued by USA. Not even counting whatever ways he was influenced by Les Enfants Terribles project and the time he spent with Big Boss, that was a lot. Hal couldn't know what was going on inside Liquid's head.
But despite all that, his earliest memories of the man were rather good. He was eccentric, yes, but also ambitious and passionate, disciplined, unbelievably sturdy and determined, and strong — even if he ended up dying alongside with most FOXHOUND members and plenty of grunts. He seemed to be stern but fair to the soldiers, and they liked him enough to betray their country. Towards the end of REX development Liquid approached Hal often. He was nice and charming in person, affectionate, even. He clearly had a thing for Hal, and they became rather close. He often brought Hal a drink whenever he came to ask about their progress. He offered his company for lunch break walks, insistent that Hal doesn't sit at the desk all day. They followed the trail between huge rocks while talking about engineering, space and philosophy. During those walks, sometimes Hal thought how there were the sides to Liquid that fit his image on duty but never shined through, except for those private moments. During those conversations Liquid was always sincere, not caring to guard his intimate beliefs and aspirations even early on in their... companionship, and yet he never mentioned the upcoming uprising or his plans for REX. No matter how close they became, that part of Liquid was somehow still off-limits for Hal, unmentioned, until it inevitably and disastrously clashed with his own life. Hal remembered a widow character from a movie saying that she felt like there was two of her husband: one who kills and one who loves. Hal shook off the thought. He knew that every villain had a human side, and besides, Hal himself had a list of unforgivable horrors of his own making. Back then on Shadow Moses after the insurrection he hadn't even have the luxury of doubting his part in LIquid's demise: even if he didn't have to choose between Liquid's life and a nuclear war (started with the machine of his own making), the choice was already made on the snowfield. All he had to do was to see it through.
Hal tossed in his bed, more memories less tainted by rage and grief surfacing in his mind. Some days Liquid behaved cheesy, insistently inviting Hal to the shooting range or trying to give him niche magazines — God knows how he got them on Shadow Moses. But he caught onto Hal's preferences fast, and was delightful most of the time. They dined together often. Hal still remembered one particular evening vividly. He assumed it'd be an after hours hang-out with other staff, but instead found himself in a storage shed hastily repurposed for a dining room with a table for two, served with some haut cuisine snails and fancy sauce. It was actually pretty tasty, and Hal couldn't decide whether he should feel pleased or unsettled over the special treatment. Sometimes he caught Liquid staring at him, as if the man was anguished and starved for something imperceptible rather than just the snails. Other dinners were less odd. Soon they found a comfortable balance between discussing work updates and personal chatting. These dates became a regular thing, a way to informally review the development progress as well as just spend the evening. One of those evenings Hal let him test-drive REX's manual controls — disconnected from the rest of the machine at the moment, the movements and attacks being visualised on a screen intead. He was happy to share a tangible result of his work with an excited audience. What was he thinking! Although it probably didn't change much, Hal had since berated himself for it countless times.
The final week before the insurrection it got more intense. The man seemed to get double as passionate about their time together, pouring himself into every word and gesture and drinking in everything Hal had to offer. Hal felt like Liquid was seeking out something in his eyes. He didn't get it at the moment, but now he had an assumption.
He couldn't help but notice the similarity time and time again. Liquid was getting ready for the coup. Surely, despite his hubris, the possibility of failure and death must've occured to him. Hal didn't know what exactly Liquid hoped to find in his eyes. Did he hope other people's affection would somehow shift the carmic scales of his fate? Did he look for some anchor to keep him in this world, even after he would pass away? Did he simply seek out the flame of Hal's life, burning high and steady, undimmed by apprehension, admiring it, able to see it clearer since his own was about to be smothered?
Did the eyes of Wolf really convey the same sadness and longing while she was delivering her final speech, or was he just seeing things? Did Fortune's mournful gaze carry the same feelings? He tried to not spiral into thinking whether Emma could see it coming, too. Did Otacon attract people who would come near him just to die? Was being close to him some kind of curse? He dismissed those thoughts as always, knowing that frequent death was inevitable in their line of work.
All of that was somber but changed nothing; he quickly shrugged off those thoughts. What unsettled him was not memories of the past, but the present.
Snake was becoming more picky about food, not wolfing down his meals anymore, but slowing down and fidgeting with his fork reluctantly, sometimes even finishing last of the three of them. It was surprising at first but Hal got used to it. So Snake spacing out during breakfast was nothing special. Hal turned to his partner to say something, but all the words escaped his mind when his look was met with Snake's eyes. The fork was idle in his hand, the meal forgotten, his attention directed at Hal. It didn't remind him of Liquid immediately, only evoking a vague deja vu. Instead of vehemence there was nearly imperceptible melancholy. The eye contact lasted only a moment before Snake looked down on his plate and stuffed some food into his mouth. But ever since, Hal couldn't get that moment out of his head. The more he thought about it, the more he recognised that same longing and hidden tenderness Liquid was full of. The two were very different to begin with, and Liquid died a young man, never getting to reach middle age. And yet, the more times he recalled that memory, the more he was reminded they were twins, the similarities shining through all the changes time had inflicted upon Snake.
Snake's health was rapidly declining, and none of the several doctors they found could tell why he aged few decades in last few years, or what could be done about that. He was very strong and survived many troubles, but Hal was starting to worry. They never talked about it outside scheduling checkups and voicing the results, never discussed their plans for future. Snake kept taking on any mission they had on their hands, stocking up on new items like back compresses and electrolyte drinks. He ignored the offers to quit smoking, and declined gentle suggestions to retire, saying that he wasn't done fixing the consequences of his actions yet, and that this is all he's good for.
It was temptig to consider this just an inconvenience at first, but every month Snake spent less of his downtime working out, and more — reading on the couch, or lately just laying down in the middle of the day. Sometimes his movements looked like it was difficult to do casual things, and Hal caught himself wondering how strong exactly Snake was at this point.
Otacon really wanted to attribute that breakfast gaze to just sympathy between partners. Surely, his own look directed at Snake disclosed admiration and love; and Hal wasn't going anywhere any time soon. But he was unable to disregard the resemblance now that he noticed it, to purge it from his mind.
Frankly, fear of the future was creeping up on him. Snake was the most badass person he ever met. He beat impossible odds and took on sci-fi miracle foes and machinery, survived every crisis and couldn't be stopped by the most efficient elite spec ops! But this new threat was obscure and seemingly impossible to target, coming from within.
Hal shook his head and stood up firmly. It was already morning anyway. He wasn't the same man as all those years ago. He got stronger — and smarter! — he thought while making the bed. He will do better now. He will protect Snake, and he will protect Sunny. He will think of something. He will do whatever it takes. And this time he will succeed. Yes.
Hal breathed out forcefully and left the room to brush his teeth. The smell of fried eggs wafted from the kitchen.