HOME | DD

Description
Damnation- Part 1

= = =

Silence. He looked up at the large nuclear weapon for several seconds; unable to comprehend that he was actually standing in front of REX. The air seemed to be chillier in this section of the whole facility than actually stepping outside into the snowfield of where he faced Sniper Wolf. His breathing quickened, his hand on the SOCOM steady and out in front of him. ‘It’s way too quiet in here,’ he thought, looking around. ‘This is not good.’

Movement. He turned around and took another breath. There was another noise. He was hearing stuff. Again. The nanomachines controlled the adrenaline flowing through his body, but he couldn’t help but feel the weird tingle in his body that told him something was going to happen. Something he didn’t like.

He ducked down near the stairways and checked his gun. Full magazine- check. Ammo- check. Affinity to save the world and make sure nuclear destruction doesn’t destroy the earth? Check.

- - -

He felt horrible. Another terrible night’s sleep filled with Shadow Moses dreams and more fights with Big Boss and Liquid… he groaned and rolled over on his side, feeling a wet nose nuzzle his hand. The man opened one eye and gave the husky a slight smile. “All right, Aero. I’m up, I’m up,” he muttered, pushing away its head slightly. “I’m coming.”

Solid Snake didn’t move, though, for some several seconds before finally sitting up and swinging his feet over the bed ever so slowly, rubbing his head. October 2006- nearly a whole year had passed since the Shadow Moses Island incident in which he had stopped nuclear warfare and terrorists from taking control of the planet. And yet, the man still had dream after nightmare after terrifying dream of images from his past. He could see Meryl dying in front of him.

He could see Sniper Wolf’s pained eyes pleading to be free from the earth where she once walked.

He could see Gray Fox’s look of pain as he told his best friend the truth about Naomi Hunter.

The husky’s whine jolted him out of his daydream, and he rose from the bed, leaning back and hearing a crack in his back. Wincing, he remembered his age acceleration and walked out of the room, moaning and shaking his head. He wasn’t even thirty-five yet, but he felt much older than his years portrayed his image. For all Snake knew, he could have been fifty-four or something. The man had done more missions and retired so many times, he was beginning to wonder if he was taking really long breaks or extremely short retirements. Either way…

“Hey, Snake!”

The man rubbed one of his eyes free of sleep and gave his home companion a wearied look. “I told you to call me Dave, Otacon,” he quipped back, reaching the table and placing both hands on it, stretching slightly. “So, seen anything?”

Hal ‘Otacon’ Emmerich shook his head. “Not a thing. I keep looking and looking, but nothing.” He shrunk slightly at Dave’s piercing gaze. “Hey, stop that! I’m trying here! I’m not a scientist of medicine; I’m a nuclear weapons designer!”

The antihero sighed and sat down in a chair, petting Aero in the process. “I’m not complaining, Hal. I’m just getting slightly frustrated at this. You’ve been going at this for a couple of months now, but you still haven’t found a cure.” He gave another stifled yawn and put his head in his hand. “Is there anything you need me to do right now- besides staying out of your way?”

Hal laughed. “Nope. I’m good for now.” He continued typing some things into the computer, mumbling under his breath every so often. Snake- or Dave- watched the self-proclaimed otaku in amusement before getting up from his chair and walking out into the kitchen. Hal blinked at this abrupt leave and looked back at the screen, clicking a couple of things and rubbing his head. He wasn’t watching anime for once- no, he was on a mission. A mission to help Dave have a better life.

The cure for FoxDie was apparently very elusive and had been in the hands of too many black marketers for as long as he could remember. Ever since the FOXHOUND rebellion had taken place, the creator of Metal Gear REX had spent days- sometimes long and painful- trying to search for this cure. It wasn’t himself who had the virus… but Dave.

His hero from the hellhole had been infected with the destructive disease and was now living with a lifespan of who knew how long. Naomi Hunter, the one who had distributed it to him in the first place, didn’t even have any idea how long Dave had left to live. She even told him that he was supposed to get injected with it in the first place- it hadn’t been her place to say whether or not he should have gotten injected with it.

That still didn’t make Dave have any less bitter feelings towards her now. Whenever the scientist mentioned her name, the killer would frown and merely tune out to the voice of Hal. It would stir up memories of Shadow Moses that he didn’t want to remember.

Dave thought of the place enough as it was already. He didn’t need to hear any more stories about evading guards and using stealth camouflage from his anime friend.

Hal looked up from the computer for a moment and walked out into the kitchen. “What is it this time?”

Dave turned away. “It’s nothing. Another bad night sleeping.”

“You look as if something more has happened to you,” his friend observed, crossing his arms and looking all over Snake’s body. “Anything bad happen to you while I was at that convention?”

“Nope.”

Hal raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Dave stared right back at him. No words were exchanged for a moment.

Finally, the brunette turned back to the room with the computer and walked in with resolve, leaving the black-haired man alone with his thoughts. Sleep deprivation was either starting to get to him, or something was wrong.

Problem was, he didn’t know which one was true.

- - -

It had been going on for quite a couple of nights now. Hal was beginning to notice the symptoms, too- irritability, longing for more sleep, and other things. He wondered if it could have been insomnia, but he knew that more than likely wasn’t the case. The twists and turns in bed could practically be heard across the hallway from where he was sleeping. Dave’s body would shift from one side to another, muttering and moaning, while Aero would be nuzzling him slightly and circling the end of his bed and whining quietly.

Hal wondered how he got eight hours of sleep with the amount of noise in the house these days.

He sat at the computer for several seconds, staring at the screen and not typing anything. Finally, he stifled a yawn and went back to searching for whatever he could to cure Dave of his problem. “There’s gotta be someone on here that knows where this cure is!” he muttered in exasperation. “Or they’ve got to be insane to ask for a lot of money for the thing.”

There was no response to this statement as he continued his search.

- - -

It was soft at first. All voices were soft when you first heard them. It tickled the back of his mind as well, taunting him. He had tried to block out the voice, but it just kept returning and whispering thoughts to him.

The first time he had heard the voice, it merely said single words, like “death,” “FoxDie,” “Snake.” At first, he thought it was just a horrible effect with the incidents of the past. PTSD- only with hearing voices and dreaming about incidents and other crap like that. Dave thought it would all pass over time, that he’d get over it within a couple of months. He figured it’d be better than the aftermath of the Zanzibarland incident. But he was wrong.

It haunted him more than he had ever dreamed of.

And it started that morning with a real wake-up call after Hal had left the kitchen.

Dave looked in the cupboard and groaned aloud, shutting the door and placing his hands on the counter. They were all out of meat and nearly running dry of… well, dry foods. He rubbed his head and turned to another cupboard, opening the door and finding a can of peaches inside. Smiling to himself, he walked over to a drawer and fished out a manual can opener, sliding it onto the top of the peaches can and proceeding to open it over the sink. ‘At least opening this thing works SOME muscles,’ he thought cynically as the lid popped off and…

“Snake…”

He stopped for a moment and looked up and at the wall, hearing a hiss in his ear. The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It sounded British and polished- well educated and too familiar for his taste. Dave gritted his teeth, his hands now gripping the underside of the countertop. Oh, yes- this voice that sometimes haunted his nightmares now; the one that always decided to come for him in the middle of the night. The one who once laid claim to the recessive genes of their father, Big Boss.

Liquid Snake.

“Did you like my sunglasses…?”

Dave didn’t move. He wasn’t going to believe in some silly little voice that had begun creeping into his dreams over the past couple of nights. No way in hell that he was going to believe in something like this. But the more he tried to convince himself otherwise, the more he got a feeling of dread in his stomach. A shiver ran down his spine as he clenched his fist. “Liquid…”

He turned around and froze. There, standing right behind him in full form- brown trench coat and all- was his golden-haired brother. Liquid didn’t look to be any different than he had a year ago. He had that same smug look on his face clearly screamed “I know something you don’t!” He flipped his hair back with a flick of a finger and smirked at Dave. “Hello there, brother,” he greeted.

The killer didn’t move. He made no sound as his brother slowly walked towards him, his hand out as if he was inviting him. “Liquid?” he whispered, his body against the counter behind him. “I… how…?” the voice taunted him.

“You really thought I would die from FoxDie?” the man asked casually. “I’m not sure if a little virus can really bring me down.”

This… was this real? Was his enemy for eternity really alive?

Dave ground his teeth. “But I saw you die! Right in front of me! Meryl saw you die- you and your bloodied body fell to the FoxDie from the simulated heart attack. There’s no way in hell you can be alive!”

Liquid grinned. “Can you explain why I’m here with you? And why in the world the creator of Metal Gear hasn’t come out of his computer hold?”

Now that he mentioned it, Hal hadn’t come into the room to see if Liquid was really there. Dave shook his head, feeling confusion mix with raw anger. Something was wrong here… really wrong. He eyed Liquid warily. “What do you want? You’ve failed in everything. Your dreams crashed on your head. They died with the FoxDie!”

“Did they, Snake?” the blonde inquired quietly, taking another step forward, his hand still extended. “Or are they still as alive as ever?”

In frustrated anger, Dave attempted to slap his hand away… only to have it pass right through the brother’s hand. Within seconds, Liquid’s form dissipated, mist flying away from where his body once stood. Surprise seemed to keep Dave rooted on the spot as he looked at his hand and the spot where Liquid once stood. Swallowing, he let out a low deep sigh. “What the hell?” he muttered.

- - -

“Hey, Dave?”

The man turned around at the sound of his companion’s voice as he put his hand on the door. Aero whined softly. His voice was flat. “What is it?”

Hal looked worried. “You okay?”

Dave clenched the doorknob, keeping his voice steady. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear you in the kitchen. You kept muttering things about Liquid, as if you were having another dream or someone was in there or something.” He crossed his arms. “What happened?”

His friend hesitated slightly. Aero nuzzled his leg again in agitation. He opened the door, and she went happily bounding into the snow, greeting her other husky friends with a cheerful bark. Dave shut the door and glanced down at the floorboards for a moment. He contemplated telling the engineer about the little encounter he had in the kitchen, but he didn’t need Hal worrying more than he already did.

He looked up at Hal and shook his head. “It wasn’t anything really. I was just talking aloud.”

“Uh-huh.” Hal sounded skeptical. “Look, if you’re having more problems with your sleeping habits and stuff, you need to tell someone! You can’t just go through life not telling anyone about what…”

Dave crossed his arms. “Look, Otacon. Like I said, it was nothing. I was just talking to myself in the kitchen. Kind of like reenacting a…” He realized the lie was getting him nowhere. “All right, fine. I need to ask you something.” When Hal didn’t answer, he continued in a lower voice, glancing around for a moment before speaking. “If you heard me talking out in the kitchen before… I need to ask you this.”

Hal waited expectantly.

“Did you hear Liquid’s voice?”

That most certainly was not what the engineer was ready to hear. He blinked a few times, shaking his head. “N-no, I didn’t! Why? Did you hear him?”

Dave said nothing. Hal took the silence as a blatant ‘yes.’ He shook his head. “When did this start happening?”

“A couple of days ago. Why?”

Hal pursed his lips. “Do you think this is a really long aftereffect of what happened a year ago? Or is this something worse than before?”

Dave shrugged. “I don’t know. But I hear Liquid’s voice every now and again, and it’s just taunting me from the day on the island.” He grabbed the handle to the door in frustration. “I don’t get it, Hal. Why now? Why these stupid memories and the whisperings in my ear? What did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Hal admitted quietly. “But we can both figure this out together. I promise.”

Dave finally opened the door. “I’m going out for a little bit with the dogs,” he muttered, feeling the cold air slap at his face. “Aero wanted a walk, and she’s going to get a walk. Do whatever you want to in the house, but just make sure you don’t try to set the kitchen on fire like a couple of weeks ago.” He shut the door quietly, and the silence of the room seemed to engulf Hal in his own thoughts.

His friend was never one for talking about how he felt unless Hal insisted on an explanation for his behavior. And even then, he would only give out little detail about how he felt. Dave didn’t like talking about the past- he felt as if it held him back from the future. So when he just babbled about he felt merely moments before he walked out of the house and shut the door, Hal had a right to be suspicious.

Dave was hiding something from him. And he was going to find out what it was all about… but first, he had to find something else.

There was a loud noise form the computer. Hal turned around, a stunned look unfurling on his features.

Impossible.

The cure for FoxDie? Was there really a match?

Description
Damnation- Part 1

= = =

Silence. He looked up at the large nuclear weapon for several seconds; unable to comprehend that he was actually standing in front of REX. The air seemed to be chillier in this section of the whole facility than actually stepping outside into the snowfield of where he faced Sniper Wolf. His breathing quickened, his hand on the SOCOM steady and out in front of him. ‘It’s way too quiet in here,’ he thought, looking around. ‘This is not good.’

Movement. He turned around and took another breath. There was another noise. He was hearing stuff. Again. The nanomachines controlled the adrenaline flowing through his body, but he couldn’t help but feel the weird tingle in his body that told him something was going to happen. Something he didn’t like.

He ducked down near the stairways and checked his gun. Full magazine- check. Ammo- check. Affinity to save the world and make sure nuclear destruction doesn’t destroy the earth? Check.

- - -

He felt horrible. Another terrible night’s sleep filled with Shadow Moses dreams and more fights with Big Boss and Liquid… he groaned and rolled over on his side, feeling a wet nose nuzzle his hand. The man opened one eye and gave the husky a slight smile. “All right, Aero. I’m up, I’m up,” he muttered, pushing away its head slightly. “I’m coming.”

Solid Snake didn’t move, though, for some several seconds before finally sitting up and swinging his feet over the bed ever so slowly, rubbing his head. October 2006- nearly a whole year had passed since the Shadow Moses Island incident in which he had stopped nuclear warfare and terrorists from taking control of the planet. And yet, the man still had dream after nightmare after terrifying dream of images from his past. He could see Meryl dying in front of him.

He could see Sniper Wolf’s pained eyes pleading to be free from the earth where she once walked.

He could see Gray Fox’s look of pain as he told his best friend the truth about Naomi Hunter.

The husky’s whine jolted him out of his daydream, and he rose from the bed, leaning back and hearing a crack in his back. Wincing, he remembered his age acceleration and walked out of the room, moaning and shaking his head. He wasn’t even thirty-five yet, but he felt much older than his years portrayed his image. For all Snake knew, he could have been fifty-four or something. The man had done more missions and retired so many times, he was beginning to wonder if he was taking really long breaks or extremely short retirements. Either way…

“Hey, Snake!”

The man rubbed one of his eyes free of sleep and gave his home companion a wearied look. “I told you to call me Dave, Otacon,” he quipped back, reaching the table and placing both hands on it, stretching slightly. “So, seen anything?”

Hal ‘Otacon’ Emmerich shook his head. “Not a thing. I keep looking and looking, but nothing.” He shrunk slightly at Dave’s piercing gaze. “Hey, stop that! I’m trying here! I’m not a scientist of medicine; I’m a nuclear weapons designer!”

The antihero sighed and sat down in a chair, petting Aero in the process. “I’m not complaining, Hal. I’m just getting slightly frustrated at this. You’ve been going at this for a couple of months now, but you still haven’t found a cure.” He gave another stifled yawn and put his head in his hand. “Is there anything you need me to do right now- besides staying out of your way?”

Hal laughed. “Nope. I’m good for now.” He continued typing some things into the computer, mumbling under his breath every so often. Snake- or Dave- watched the self-proclaimed otaku in amusement before getting up from his chair and walking out into the kitchen. Hal blinked at this abrupt leave and looked back at the screen, clicking a couple of things and rubbing his head. He wasn’t watching anime for once- no, he was on a mission. A mission to help Dave have a better life.

The cure for FoxDie was apparently very elusive and had been in the hands of too many black marketers for as long as he could remember. Ever since the FOXHOUND rebellion had taken place, the creator of Metal Gear REX had spent days- sometimes long and painful- trying to search for this cure. It wasn’t himself who had the virus… but Dave.

His hero from the hellhole had been infected with the destructive disease and was now living with a lifespan of who knew how long. Naomi Hunter, the one who had distributed it to him in the first place, didn’t even have any idea how long Dave had left to live. She even told him that he was supposed to get injected with it in the first place- it hadn’t been her place to say whether or not he should have gotten injected with it.

That still didn’t make Dave have any less bitter feelings towards her now. Whenever the scientist mentioned her name, the killer would frown and merely tune out to the voice of Hal. It would stir up memories of Shadow Moses that he didn’t want to remember.

Dave thought of the place enough as it was already. He didn’t need to hear any more stories about evading guards and using stealth camouflage from his anime friend.

Hal looked up from the computer for a moment and walked out into the kitchen. “What is it this time?”

Dave turned away. “It’s nothing. Another bad night sleeping.”

“You look as if something more has happened to you,” his friend observed, crossing his arms and looking all over Snake’s body. “Anything bad happen to you while I was at that convention?”

“Nope.”

Hal raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Dave stared right back at him. No words were exchanged for a moment.

Finally, the brunette turned back to the room with the computer and walked in with resolve, leaving the black-haired man alone with his thoughts. Sleep deprivation was either starting to get to him, or something was wrong.

Problem was, he didn’t know which one was true.

- - -

It had been going on for quite a couple of nights now. Hal was beginning to notice the symptoms, too- irritability, longing for more sleep, and other things. He wondered if it could have been insomnia, but he knew that more than likely wasn’t the case. The twists and turns in bed could practically be heard across the hallway from where he was sleeping. Dave’s body would shift from one side to another, muttering and moaning, while Aero would be nuzzling him slightly and circling the end of his bed and whining quietly.

Hal wondered how he got eight hours of sleep with the amount of noise in the house these days.

He sat at the computer for several seconds, staring at the screen and not typing anything. Finally, he stifled a yawn and went back to searching for whatever he could to cure Dave of his problem. “There’s gotta be someone on here that knows where this cure is!” he muttered in exasperation. “Or they’ve got to be insane to ask for a lot of money for the thing.”

There was no response to this statement as he continued his search.

- - -

It was soft at first. All voices were soft when you first heard them. It tickled the back of his mind as well, taunting him. He had tried to block out the voice, but it just kept returning and whispering thoughts to him.

The first time he had heard the voice, it merely said single words, like “death,” “FoxDie,” “Snake.” At first, he thought it was just a horrible effect with the incidents of the past. PTSD- only with hearing voices and dreaming about incidents and other crap like that. Dave thought it would all pass over time, that he’d get over it within a couple of months. He figured it’d be better than the aftermath of the Zanzibarland incident. But he was wrong.

It haunted him more than he had ever dreamed of.

And it started that morning with a real wake-up call after Hal had left the kitchen.

Dave looked in the cupboard and groaned aloud, shutting the door and placing his hands on the counter. They were all out of meat and nearly running dry of… well, dry foods. He rubbed his head and turned to another cupboard, opening the door and finding a can of peaches inside. Smiling to himself, he walked over to a drawer and fished out a manual can opener, sliding it onto the top of the peaches can and proceeding to open it over the sink. ‘At least opening this thing works SOME muscles,’ he thought cynically as the lid popped off and…

“Snake…”

He stopped for a moment and looked up and at the wall, hearing a hiss in his ear. The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It sounded British and polished- well educated and too familiar for his taste. Dave gritted his teeth, his hands now gripping the underside of the countertop. Oh, yes- this voice that sometimes haunted his nightmares now; the one that always decided to come for him in the middle of the night. The one who once laid claim to the recessive genes of their father, Big Boss.

Liquid Snake.

“Did you like my sunglasses…?”

Dave didn’t move. He wasn’t going to believe in some silly little voice that had begun creeping into his dreams over the past couple of nights. No way in hell that he was going to believe in something like this. But the more he tried to convince himself otherwise, the more he got a feeling of dread in his stomach. A shiver ran down his spine as he clenched his fist. “Liquid…”

He turned around and froze. There, standing right behind him in full form- brown trench coat and all- was his golden-haired brother. Liquid didn’t look to be any different than he had a year ago. He had that same smug look on his face clearly screamed “I know something you don’t!” He flipped his hair back with a flick of a finger and smirked at Dave. “Hello there, brother,” he greeted.

The killer didn’t move. He made no sound as his brother slowly walked towards him, his hand out as if he was inviting him. “Liquid?” he whispered, his body against the counter behind him. “I… how…?” the voice taunted him.

“You really thought I would die from FoxDie?” the man asked casually. “I’m not sure if a little virus can really bring me down.”

This… was this real? Was his enemy for eternity really alive?

Dave ground his teeth. “But I saw you die! Right in front of me! Meryl saw you die- you and your bloodied body fell to the FoxDie from the simulated heart attack. There’s no way in hell you can be alive!”

Liquid grinned. “Can you explain why I’m here with you? And why in the world the creator of Metal Gear hasn’t come out of his computer hold?”

Now that he mentioned it, Hal hadn’t come into the room to see if Liquid was really there. Dave shook his head, feeling confusion mix with raw anger. Something was wrong here… really wrong. He eyed Liquid warily. “What do you want? You’ve failed in everything. Your dreams crashed on your head. They died with the FoxDie!”

“Did they, Snake?” the blonde inquired quietly, taking another step forward, his hand still extended. “Or are they still as alive as ever?”

In frustrated anger, Dave attempted to slap his hand away… only to have it pass right through the brother’s hand. Within seconds, Liquid’s form dissipated, mist flying away from where his body once stood. Surprise seemed to keep Dave rooted on the spot as he looked at his hand and the spot where Liquid once stood. Swallowing, he let out a low deep sigh. “What the hell?” he muttered.

- - -

“Hey, Dave?”

The man turned around at the sound of his companion’s voice as he put his hand on the door. Aero whined softly. His voice was flat. “What is it?”

Hal looked worried. “You okay?”

Dave clenched the doorknob, keeping his voice steady. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear you in the kitchen. You kept muttering things about Liquid, as if you were having another dream or someone was in there or something.” He crossed his arms. “What happened?”

His friend hesitated slightly. Aero nuzzled his leg again in agitation. He opened the door, and she went happily bounding into the snow, greeting her other husky friends with a cheerful bark. Dave shut the door and glanced down at the floorboards for a moment. He contemplated telling the engineer about the little encounter he had in the kitchen, but he didn’t need Hal worrying more than he already did.

He looked up at Hal and shook his head. “It wasn’t anything really. I was just talking aloud.”

“Uh-huh.” Hal sounded skeptical. “Look, if you’re having more problems with your sleeping habits and stuff, you need to tell someone! You can’t just go through life not telling anyone about what…”

Dave crossed his arms. “Look, Otacon. Like I said, it was nothing. I was just talking to myself in the kitchen. Kind of like reenacting a…” He realized the lie was getting him nowhere. “All right, fine. I need to ask you something.” When Hal didn’t answer, he continued in a lower voice, glancing around for a moment before speaking. “If you heard me talking out in the kitchen before… I need to ask you this.”

Hal waited expectantly.

“Did you hear Liquid’s voice?”

That most certainly was not what the engineer was ready to hear. He blinked a few times, shaking his head. “N-no, I didn’t! Why? Did you hear him?”

Dave said nothing. Hal took the silence as a blatant ‘yes.’ He shook his head. “When did this start happening?”

“A couple of days ago. Why?”

Hal pursed his lips. “Do you think this is a really long aftereffect of what happened a year ago? Or is this something worse than before?”

Dave shrugged. “I don’t know. But I hear Liquid’s voice every now and again, and it’s just taunting me from the day on the island.” He grabbed the handle to the door in frustration. “I don’t get it, Hal. Why now? Why these stupid memories and the whisperings in my ear? What did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Hal admitted quietly. “But we can both figure this out together. I promise.”

Dave finally opened the door. “I’m going out for a little bit with the dogs,” he muttered, feeling the cold air slap at his face. “Aero wanted a walk, and she’s going to get a walk. Do whatever you want to in the house, but just make sure you don’t try to set the kitchen on fire like a couple of weeks ago.” He shut the door quietly, and the silence of the room seemed to engulf Hal in his own thoughts.

His friend was never one for talking about how he felt unless Hal insisted on an explanation for his behavior. And even then, he would only give out little detail about how he felt. Dave didn’t like talking about the past- he felt as if it held him back from the future. So when he just babbled about he felt merely moments before he walked out of the house and shut the door, Hal had a right to be suspicious.

Dave was hiding something from him. And he was going to find out what it was all about… but first, he had to find something else.

There was a loud noise form the computer. Hal turned around, a stunned look unfurling on his features.

Impossible.

The cure for FoxDie? Was there really a match?