Metal Gear Solid Fan Fiction ❯ Grenades ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Event Horizon 
Non Anime: Metal Gear Solid Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Romance / Suspense / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.28.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 209 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Metal Gear Solid Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Romance / Suspense / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.28.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 209 | Status: Completed
When Dave woke again, it was to a slight chill on his skin and the soft sound of keys clacking in the next room. Hal was back at it, determined as ever. Over the span of several hours, Dave had gotten outside, worked his arms, washed the truck, picked up the kitchen. The sun had tipped towards the horizon, and Hal was still coding.
After that, there wasn't much more he could do, so he sat down to clean his guns again, being silent and patient on the couch. The overwhelming feeling that he was a burden descended once more, but he shuffled it away to a vacant corner of his mind, instead replaying and reflecting on the stellar frenzy of the last 24 hours. It was a totally new side of Hal he'd seen. He had never thought the engineer could be so assertive, so primal. He couldn't picture life without him, always a pleasant presence in his day to day, providing backup on their missions, a sounding board, companionship, friendship. But he'd never imagined there was this sexual beast lurking within his dour coffee-and-anime exterior. Maybe- maybe it was love? Love did strange things to people. He didn't know, but he'd heard that somewhere along the line. It was at least lust, that was sure. Lust and friendship. He could live with that combination. A greedy smirk crossed his lips at the concept, exploitative ideas already running through his head. Hal tossed him a casual inquisitive look, eyebrow quirked, but Dave never saw it. He turned back and continued coding.
The next day was spent in the same manner, only Dave found another activity besides daydreaming to occupy his time - supplying coffee. The first batch was a watery mess, fearing it would be too strong. The next was so strong Hal's mug nearly corroded. He got the hang of it quickly, making the next pot to Hal's liking, not solider-strength. Regardless, the dissolved caffeine swam through his veins in short measure, and his fingers flew over the keys, interspersed with bouts of lip biting, head scratching, and muttered swearing. As the sun was setting, Dave heard Hal clap his hands together, pushing his chair back from the desk.
"It's done! Done. Seriously." He emitted a loud triumphant cackle as he rubbed his hands together.
"Really? Want to give it a try?" Hal finally got his laughter under control, ending in a short little nervous chuckle.
"Yes. Here, sit on the couch." Dave made himself comfortable while Hal debugged the program one last time, then turned the computer and RF transmitter to the codec's auxiliary frequency.
"Shouldn't take long." He switched it on, passing the encryption key to the device in Dave's body, granting him access to instruct the bots. The status bar clicked quickly from 10 to 20 to 40 to 80 percent - done. He closed the connection and moved to sit next to Dave. "Okay. Now we wait."
One machine carried the instructions to another, who carried them to another, to another. The whole process blossomed in exponential fashion, running quicker than the blood which pumped through his veins. Soon, all the bots were informed and they set off on a search and rescue mission: find myelin, build axons. They coursed through his body unseen, hungry for something to do after so much routine maintenance and inactivity. But there was little point in waiting, awake, so shortly both men shuffled off to bed, exhausted from the past few days' mental expenditure and nervous inaction.
Dave woke the next morning with Hal's arm and one leg casually draped over him. He opened his eyes, forgetting to expect anything. Nothingness greeted him, same as any other day. It was only after he'd firmly pushed away the curtain of sleep that he remembered.
"Ah, fuck." It was mumbled, but enough to rouse Hal.
"Mmm... Dave? You awake?"
"Yes." His voice was laden with badly concealed disappointment.
"Anything? No. Well, I'm not surprised." He yawned, pulling himself out of sleep. "The nanomachines have only had 8 hours or so to work. Let's get you up and get some olelic acids in you."
Hal's plan consisted of toast drizzled with olive oil and peanut butter sandwiches. They sat, ate, sipped coffee, searching for something to do to pass the time. Eventually they headed into town, did some grocery shopping, stopped at the auto parts store. "I'll show you how to change the oil," Dave promised. Soon enough, Hal was on his back under the aging Chevy, arms coated in black motor oil, droplets splashed on his glasses. Dave directed him from above. "Okay, now that you've got the filter off, run your finger around the gasket rim. Any little burrs?" Hal did as instructed.
"No. Did I mention this sucks?"
"Yes, about a dozen times," Dave reminded him with a chuckle. "Stop complaining, you're finally becoming a man."
"My ass." They continued to work on the truck, repairing the dead directional light, changing the air filter.
"Congratulations. We are now the owners of the best maintained 87 Chevy in a five county radius." Hal returned his easy smile.
"Let's get cleaned up, I'm famished."
They went to bed with the same expectant thoughts buzzing in their heads. The next morning dawned in much the same fashion.
"Fuck," Dave breathed.
"Mmm. Morning."
"Nothing, Hal. Absolutely nothing."
"Really? ...What about light sensitivity? He reached up and rolled up the blinds.
"Nothing. Nothing, fucking nothing." Dave was angry now, suffocating the frightened disappointment.
"Well, we'll give it a little longer. At least nothing unexpectedly wrong is happening." And that was the truth. Hal had a little pit of worry twisting in his stomach ever since he'd started on the program. What if his efforts to create test scenarios and debug the code weren't enough? What if something went catastrophically wrong? The fact that no effects were showing, yet, was a disappointment and a relief all at the same time. And he kept reminding himself, the human body, even Dave's, worked slowly to heal. Even as the little bugs expended energy, they could only do so much at once.
So they gave it time. Filled the day with busy work, cleaning the house, picking up, sorting, trashing things they didn't need. It was with worried exhaustion that they collapsed in bed that night, nothing more than a few tense kisses exchanged.
"It'll be alright," Hal whispered into his skin as they fell asleep, bodies wound tightly around each other.
Hal was the first awake the next morning. He took the opportunity to draw his fingers over Dave's form, allowed his thoughts to blank. Worrying solved nothing. He simply enjoyed the moment and waited for Dave to open his eyes.
"Morning."
Dave was silent next to him, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
"Dave?"
A lone tear dripped down his cheek, disappearing in the pillow.
"Oh god, Dave." He gripped the larger man tightly, burying his face between his hair and the damp spot on the pillow. "Oh, god." His throat was tight. "I'm so sorry," he squeaked. "Let me try again, please. I'll fix it, fuck, I'll-" his voice was choked by tears. Dave gripped him back, hard. Neither man could say anything, what was there to say, anyway? Dave's dark world endured, trapping him in this tedious domesticated world where nothing changed. Everything that he'd earned, heightened senses, the confidence to move through a space without sight, what was it good for in the end? His former world was locked away from him forever. There would be no more missions, no more successes, no more risks. This was the last, final failure. His enemies could work away at their vile ambitions, efforts unchecked. He trembled, for everything, for the world, for his loss. The tears continued to fall.
"If-if only I'd been quicker. I could have stopped it, gotten you out of there. You shouldn't have been there in the first place! God! It's all my fault." Hal sobbed uncontrollably, and Dave did nothing to stop him. In a way, he was satiated with Hal's self-blame, his guilt. In a small section of his mind, he was agreeing. 'Yes - this is your fault. I'm trapped and it's all your fault.' But the thoughts didn't waft into his conscious mind and stayed buried, unspoken.
Hal was kissing his neck now, sloppy lips capturing his tears. "Please," he softly wailed, "please, let me try again." His mouth trailed down to his collarbone, sucking. "Please, please-" He barely breathed it into his skin, frightened and ashamed of himself. "...Please don't leave me." But Dave heard.
"I'm not going anywhere." A bitter chuckle. "Where would I go, anyway? I'd break my neck just walking down the fucking porch steps."
"No, no, no." Hal moved down his chest, licking down, in earnest. "Oh, Dave." His hand wound down to his hip and dug his nails in lightly, unconscious mind bent on keeping him. "You can't go. Not because you can't, but- but..." He worked his tongue around his navel, making his stomach muscles clench. "I need you. God, I couldn't live without you." Despite the hopelessness that smothered them, the vast yawning chasm of nothing that was beckoning to Dave, swallowing up his life, Hal's words and his sure deft hands were turning him on. He lay still while Hal worked down to his groin, taking his half-soft cock in his hands, stroking lightly, bringing it to his lips. He slicked it with his tongue before engulfing him, now fully erect, with his mouth.
This was so wrong, to feel such grief and such blatant, wanton need. But Dave was past caring. He just wanted to feel, to be overwhelmed. Hal was working himself open with his own fingers, the other hand on the base of Dave's penis, sucking furiously. His guilt was burning him up inside and he worked like a man possessed, applying just enough suction to the point of almost tipping into pain. Hal felt fingers winding through his hair, pulling viciously. Not back, not up, just pulling. He tilted his head up to catch Dave's face. His lips were drawn, teeth clenched, eyes shut, brows knit. As if he were dying, bleeding out. He drew his attention back to the task at hand, and soon he was ready, his fingers sliding in and out without much resistance. He licked Dave one last time, leaving copious amounts of saliva glistening on his weeping head.
He moved his hands to the soldier's torso, positioning himself, but Dave flipped him on his back, pinning his wrists to the sheets. He shifted both wrists to one hand guiding himself with the other. No words were said, and he entered him with one swift motion. Hal grunted, biting his lip. He was ready, but, but... He still wasn't quite used to this, his insides ached, filled completely. Dave moved his wrists to both hands again, bearing down with all his weight. Hal clenched his waist with his legs. It was vicious, brutal. Dave set a punishing pace, then doubled it. The bed creaked underneath them and they gasped from the effort.
"More," Hal breathed and he complied. The tears continued to flow and he cried out, pleasure and penance burning away the guilt. Dave's mind was burning away the feelings of hopelessness, despair. He lost himself, thrusting harder and deeper and spilling his agony into Hal. He followed soon after, erupting hot and sticky all over his chest.
Dave struggled to catch his breath, laying back and collapsing. For a few moments of post-coital bliss his mind was blank, euphoric. Then the black tendrils crept back in.
"I wish I could see you like this. I have an idea of what you look like, but it's unfinished." He sighed. "I want to see your eyes. I never really looked before, and now..." Hal was silent, understanding nothing he could say would take it away, make any of this better.
***
The next week was a monotony of activity and a roller coaster of emotion. Dave had nothing to do, all the mindless tasks were finished save those never-ending chores: dishes, clothes, cleaning. Hal sat fixedly in front of the computer, typing intermittently, hope not quite killed. But there was little he could find little fault with his code. He made it more efficient, certainly, fixed one long-shot potential bug, and spent the remainder of the time in impotent silence. He migrated from bouts of uncharacteristic swearing, to tepid silence, to quiet crying. At one point he even threw his Gurren Lagann coffee cup against the wall, watching it shatter with furious satisfaction. After a few days, he resorted to drinking instead, curling up on the couch, staring at nothing. He quickly bypassed the shot glass and sipped straight from the bottle of vodka instead. Dave managed to take it away from him at first, only letting him alone with it for a handful of minutes, just so he couldn't get right and properly soused. At least harping on Hal kept him from dwelling on his own hopeless state.
But his watchdog phase was only effective for so long and clever Hal found ways of stashing the vodka in other fashions - behind the sofa, in his coffee cup, under the bed. Several days ended very early, with Hal passed out on the couch, limbs arranged in the haphazard state only true drunkenness can achieve. Dave left him there and they started to sleep separately again. When at last, the vodka was gone, Hal stole the truck keys and escaped into town, abandoning himself in a bottle of cheap tequila. He spent that following morning recovering in the cab of their truck on a deserted road along the train tracks. His head throbbed. What was he doing? Honestly? He'd left Dave alone like the coward he was. He wasn't strong enought to deal with this head on, couldn't face up to his failings and support him as he'd been. He'd have to do something. Get them out of this town? To where, really? Another city, another house, just so Dave would have to map it all again?
That wasn't the answer, but they needed a fresh start of some sort. He needed to make amends. Hal sighed heavily, summed up his courage, and put the key in the ignition. He would have to be brave, even with a raging hangover. He gathered peace offerings in town and presented them haltingly to Dave when he walked in the door.
"I've been an asshole, I'm sorry." Dave sat on the couch, a bitter 'damn right' plastered on his face. "Cigarettes? I got you a carton of your favorite." The edges of his pursed lips quirked in amusement, even if his eyes still shone with betrayal and anger.
"You're not going to drink today."
"No, I'm not." He set them down on the coffee table. "I got you something else, too." He placed the lopsided object in Dave's hands, watching as his fingers traced the planes and curves, quickly mapping it and throwing a confused look in Hal's direction. "It's a guitar," he added needlessly. "I figured... well, I've never been musically inclined, but I didn't know if maybe you'd be interested. I bought it off a guy at the gas station." Dave's mouth twitched in the beginnings of a genuine smile, his eyes softening.
"You sappy bastard. Thanks."
It was still awkward after that, the two men finding their own spaces in the house, but as Hal was frying up dinner later that night, Dave approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around him and placing a small kiss on the shell of his ear. "Thank you." For snapping out of it, for coming back, for not driving me to hate you.
That night they shared the same bed again, wrapped tentatively in each other's arms.
The morning was the same as always. Dave savored the moment, Hal's warm body pressed against his, the smooth sheets covering them. The peace outside, birds calling each other, cars in the distance. If he had to endure a life without sight, without action, at least he'd stay in Hal's arms. This accident had brought them together, and he was grateful for that. Why couldn't it have happened otherwise? He sighed and rolled over, away from the painfully bright sun, burying his face in Hal's hair. It took ten seconds for his mind to clear.
Was that right? Something didn't add up. He opened his eyes out of habit and found himself looking at Hal's brown hair, only two inches from his face. Everything was fuzzy and blurry, but... it was there. Oh god, it was there! A thrill ran through his body and he gripped Hal's torso tightly. Hal. He couldn't breathe, the air came in short gasps through his nose. An unfamiliar room coalesced around him, the light reflected off the white walls stabbed at his raw nerves but he forced his eyes open, refusing to squint. Dave propped himself up and peered over Hal's shoulder. He was sleeping soundly, his eyes shut, lines of worry smoothed on his forehead. Beautiful. A sob caught in his throat. His Hal. His forearms quivered, threatening to give out, overwhelmed by emotion. His heart was racing.
He was overcome by a desire to see those eyes open, so he leaned down and kissed him awake, softly at first, then licking with his tongue, begging Hal to open his mouth. He kept his eyes open, frightened to shut them away. Hal returned the kiss, tongue stroking over Dave's moaning slightly as he regained consciousness.
"You're feeling better this morning."
"Oh, you have no idea." His voice caught, trembling. Hal opened his eyes quizzically only to find Dave's own bearing down on him, flickering in small movements, focusing and capturing every detail. Green eyes. That's right. He'd forgotten. Hal's gorgeous, piercing green eyes.
It didn't take long for realization to dawn on Hal, watching his focused pupils. They had always been wide, wandering, fixed on a point somewhere with no meaning. This was different, totally different. They latched onto Hal's and refused to let go. His mouth fell open.
"No. No?" He refused to believe. He would not let his own stupidity toy with him. But a sliver of hope stuck in his side and burrowed deep. "Dave?" it came out as a squeak, barely audible.
"Yes?" A smile trembled over his lips. Seeing the untempered joy on Dave's face was answer enough. His eyes filled with tears and Dave's lips split into a grin that engulfed his whole face. "Yeah. Yeah." It was all he could manage before Hal coughed out a little laugh and pulled him down into a kiss. A searing kiss between hungry mouths where tongues danced, teeth clashed. He felt like his soul was being devoured. And through it all, their eyes remained connected, daring to hope, to believe. This was heaven magnified - the feel of Hal underneath him, warm, trembling. His mouth, so hot and desperate. And his eyes, glowing green that impaled the core of his being.
Dave tore the sheets off the bed and attacked Hal's lounge pants next. His cock was already at attention, throbbing and eager. Dave held his thighs down with his hands, keeping their gazes locked. He licked a line all along the underside of his penis and watched the ecstasy carve itself onto the scientist's face. Oh god, what he'd been missing! The sight of him, quivering, overwhelmed, went straight to his own cock and he ground against Hal's leg as he took him into his mouth. Admittedly, he'd never done this with a man before, but instinct and pure emotion were an easy substitute for knowledge. Hal keened out his pleasure and before long was pulling on Dave's hair, begging him to stop.
"I-I can't take it. Just, just hold on." Dave drew back, kissing along his stomach instead, keeping him pierced with his eyes. "God, Dave. I..." He couldn't finish, could barely breathe. "Please, I want you to fuck me. Please." His mouth curled into a hungry feral grin, moving his hand to stroke through Hal's hair, down across his cheek, over his mouth. Hal opened his lips and sucked the offered fingers inside, bathing them with his tongue, fucking his fingers just as sure as he was fucking him with his eyes. Those green, green eyes, brimming with desire, relief, lust, hope. Love. God, it must be. It was so heavy in his gaze and Dave found it hard to breathe. He pulled his hand back, added a bit of lotion from the nightstand, and pressed them inside Hal. Even now, his eyes stayed open. He sucked in two great lungfuls of air, moaning wantonly at the end of each, nearly hyper-ventilating. His lids drooped, but stayed open, fixed on the man who was spreading him wide open, stretching him, filling him with promises to be kept in short order. He nearly came from the sight and wrapped his hand around the base of his own erection, squeezing lightly, belaying his orgasm.
There were so many things Dave wanted to say, but nothing seemed sufficient. Instead, he crawled up Hal's body, kissing him forcefully, making both of them nearly gag on the other's tongue. He needed - so much. He needed to drown on feeling. He caressed Hal's thighs, spreading them, entering him achingly slow, drawing it out. Those green eyes clouded, overwhelmed, his mouth hung open, breathing in shallow little pants. Dave set a slow, deep rhythm, determined to touch every nerve ending, set them both on fire. He changed his angle and watched Hal concede defeat, his eyes rolling back in his head. Something clenched painfully in Dave's chest at that, seeing bare bliss painted over Hal's face. God, how he'd dreamed of this, wanted it, but never let the need overwhelm him. He kept it under control all these weeks because he knew he'd never see it. And now here it was, in front of him, the sight of Hal lost in the throes of passion. It was etching itself into his soul, and he abandoned himself in frantic energy, emptying himself into Hal's warm body.
Hal was quick to recover, propping himself on his elbows and staring at Dave as if he were the single most precious thing on earth. It wasn't really a stretch.
"I don't believe it." Dave caught his breath.
"Neither do I." He crawled up the bed, wrapping him in his arms. “You did it. You know that, right?"
"I-I don't believe it. It could be by accident, it could just be your body's own resiliency-"
"No. You did it. Thank you." He crushed their mouths together, absolving both men for all the trials, the fights, the hardships endured since N38.
"Dave. I know you know this, but it has to be said." He clutched his chin. "I love you. I always have. At first it was just admiration, but... but. It wasn't a long leap and I've been head over heels for you for years. I just - I just need you to know that. I would never hurt you on purpose, or put you in a situation where-" Dave silenced him with his lips.
"Stop. I know. I trust you. I think that's pretty apparent." He cracked a smile. "I... I know you know this, but..." he swallowed despite himself. The words were easy after all. They had been dancing in his head for a while now. "I love you."
***
The sky was ebony dark, just the small piercing stars above. The moon was gone, the clouds had fled. Even the headlights on the Chevy were dead. Hal edged the truck to the side of the road, giving a meaningful glance to Dave.
"Be careful, for fuck's sake." A tight feral smile split his lips.
"Always."
"I'll be waiting right here." Dave reached across the seat, and crushed their mouths together, desperate.
"I know." And with that, he opened the door and disappeared into the blackness.
He didn't bother with stealth this time. They were only a quarter mile from the silo, and he sprinted the distance to the concrete monolith, bathed in black. There wasn't a single light. The blast doors on the entry hatch were loosely latched with a chain. Dave had brought plenty of supplies for this mission. He flipped open a miniature cutting torch and made short work of the metal links. He leaned against the door and pushed, cringing as it slid open with a loud, sickening sound of rusted metal. The hallway was dark inside, until he took one step and the whole complex was bathed in light. He squinted through it, dodging to the side to escape a hail of gunfire that never came.
Slowly, he peeked around the edge of the door. It was silent and ghostly inside.
"Snake? What happened?" Hal's concerned voice traveled over the codec.
"Think I tripped some automatic security system. No one's here. Yet," he added.
With a swiftness he'd worried had abandoned him, Dave slipped inside the doors, slithering to the first room, kicking open the door, training his M4 assault rifle steadily at each corner. Empty.
He checked each room in the same fashion, but they were all the same. Empty, with a very fine dust covering everything. He was at the end of the corridor now, and navigated down the stairs, keeping his eyes trained on the bottom, watching for movement as he flew along the metal treads. He was at the last step swiftly and noticed the three hatch doors were open, unlatched. The blood stains he'd remembered splattered on the metal were absent. His senses sharpened, ducking around the first two. He squared himself, stood back, and kicked the last door wide open. As it ground open, he darted back behind safe cover. Someone had cleaned that blood. He was not going to be lured into complacency despite the easy access.
Slowly, he edged the barrel of his gun into the door frame, peering around. The room was empty. Or rather, the areas he could see were empty. The mutilated bodies were gone. The machine and the generator were still there. Shiny and clean. He moved into the room cautiously, edging around the hulking contraption, waiting for something to pop out of the corner of his eye.
"You're a sight for sore eyes." Dave pivoted on his heel, gun trained at 6 o'clock. Nothing. The disembodied voice continued. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to come back. Did you bring that inept little friend of yours? I think he'd make an excellent test subject." He bristled.
"I'm your problem now, Bennet. Focus on that, and how you're going to spend the last few minutes of your life." Dry laughter echoed around the room.
"I think you'll find we have you trapped, so your threats are hollow." Dave continued to edge around the machine. A round went off, clipping the metal close by his head and he pulled back, flattening himself against the evil device. He edged around the other side and was presented with the same greeting, round embedding itself in the concrete wall at his back.
Trapped, eh? That's just what he wanted. There were at least two of them in the room, judging by the slight difference in the cadence of the muzzle blasts. And three, plus Bennet. He wouldn't be here, not for all his elaborate setup. Besides, under all that bravado, he was just scared. Insane and scared. A great combination. Dave pulled a grenade from the bandolier on his back, sliding it into the M203A1 launcher at the end of his carbine.
"You'd better have an army if you want to fuck with me." He aimed in a high arc over the machine and clicked the trigger. The violent concussion rocked the room, the explosion sending bits of concrete like shrapnel bouncing against the walls. Over the ringing echo in his ears, he heard the unabashed moans of a man in blinding pain. He twisted around one end of the machine and clicked off a dozen rounds, splitting his skull open and ending his misery. His companion, obviously unharmed, filled the air with gunfire, refusing to relent even as Dave bounded back behind the safe steel. He could feel the tremors as the metal shook with each bullet. The barrage stopped and Dave could hear, faintly - thank you enhanced hearing - as the man dry-fired once. Realizing his mistake, he paused to reload. It would only take him two seconds, a few well trained motions to re-arm himself. Dave sprang into action, twisting around the side of the device, locking onto the man whose eyes shone wide with fear. He knew what was coming.
Four rounds burst from the end of the M4 and erupted in the man's chest, painting the concrete behind him with chunky red paint. Just four. That's all that was needed.
The air had been filled with the soft electronic static of an open comm line, but it abruptly cut and a silent void followed in its wake. Bennet was on the move. Where? His thoughts raced ahead to Hal, waiting on the highway just outside the complex. No - must not panic. Must not move without thinking. He shut down his emotions as best he could, as he was trained to. He spared a thought for the machine, propelling another grenade into it, rendering all the cruel mechanisms useless. Job done, Dave slipped back out of the room, pointing the gun overhead, expecting men. Nothing.
"Otacon?"
"What's going on? I heard-"
"Drive away. I have one missing. Just one. I'll find him but-"
"No, I'm not going anywhere!"
"Otacon, for the love of god, don't argue with me. Drive away." The commanding tone in his voice brooked no argument.
"Al-alright. Stay in touch."
"You got it."
He started up the stairs, goosebumps pimpling his flesh. It felt just like last time. But it wouldn't be the same, it couldn't. He reached the top and slid the end of the rifle around the door frame. Immediately, bullets filled the threshold.
"Nice try. You're still fucking trapped, genius." Dave considered saying the same thing, but instead calmly reached for his last grenade. He jabbed the launcher beyond the rim of the door and fired blindly. The explosion shook the walls and eroded his hearing down to deafening white noise. But the bullets stopped and after a half minute he had regained enough awareness to hear soft liquid gurgling, oxygen being forced through seeping blood.
Dave loosed three rounds from his gun anyway, just for good measure. When nothing was returned, he cautiously poked his head around the door. There on the floor, as expected, was a bleeding, dying Bennet and the last of his henchmen, dead. Dave kept his gun trained as he approached. His eyes were unfocused, soft, in order to catch any potential movement from the doors lining the wrecked hallway. He kicked the gun away from Bennet's outstretched hand.
"How many times do I have to kill you?!" A sharp cough answered him, blood pouring from the maniac's mouth and lacerated chest. "I should make you suffer, turn your machine on you." Fear blossomed in his clouded eyes. "I wonder how long it will take your brains to boil? How long did it take for them?!" But the man was quickly fading and his threats were largely lost on him. "You fucking pig. All the pain you put me through." All the pain you put us through. But he didn't say it. The trained solider knew better than to elude to any potential connections, in case a phantom was waiting in the shadows and the knowledge used against him, later.
He was disgusted with the whole tableau and pointed the barrel at Bennet's mouth. One round. That's all it was worth. His skull fragmented and his decapitated body bounced bonelessly against the floor.
"Otacon?"
"Yes! Yes, what's going on?"
"I need a ride."
"30 seconds." The sound of a revving engine spilled over the codec for a fraction of a moment before the connection was closed. Dave continued down the corridor, checking each room for good measure. Then he was out, on the ramp, running and pulling open the door of the truck.
"Let's get the hell out of here." It didn't need to be said, and Hal's foot was already on the gas, rear wheels grabbing the pavement, launching them away from the hell hole. They were a team. And they were back.
Dave relaxed in the passenger seat, muscles still twitching from adrenaline, excitement. His chin pointed, eyes confident, he cycled the slide on his rifle, clearing the chamber. The satisfying sound of oiled gunmetal filled the cab. The soldier had returned. "Next time, I'm going to have to pickup more grenades," he muttered, clicking on the safety. Hal smirked without tearing his eyes from the road. As they drove, Dave watched the beautiful pinpoints of light filling the night sky.
FIN
After that, there wasn't much more he could do, so he sat down to clean his guns again, being silent and patient on the couch. The overwhelming feeling that he was a burden descended once more, but he shuffled it away to a vacant corner of his mind, instead replaying and reflecting on the stellar frenzy of the last 24 hours. It was a totally new side of Hal he'd seen. He had never thought the engineer could be so assertive, so primal. He couldn't picture life without him, always a pleasant presence in his day to day, providing backup on their missions, a sounding board, companionship, friendship. But he'd never imagined there was this sexual beast lurking within his dour coffee-and-anime exterior. Maybe- maybe it was love? Love did strange things to people. He didn't know, but he'd heard that somewhere along the line. It was at least lust, that was sure. Lust and friendship. He could live with that combination. A greedy smirk crossed his lips at the concept, exploitative ideas already running through his head. Hal tossed him a casual inquisitive look, eyebrow quirked, but Dave never saw it. He turned back and continued coding.
The next day was spent in the same manner, only Dave found another activity besides daydreaming to occupy his time - supplying coffee. The first batch was a watery mess, fearing it would be too strong. The next was so strong Hal's mug nearly corroded. He got the hang of it quickly, making the next pot to Hal's liking, not solider-strength. Regardless, the dissolved caffeine swam through his veins in short measure, and his fingers flew over the keys, interspersed with bouts of lip biting, head scratching, and muttered swearing. As the sun was setting, Dave heard Hal clap his hands together, pushing his chair back from the desk.
"It's done! Done. Seriously." He emitted a loud triumphant cackle as he rubbed his hands together.
"Really? Want to give it a try?" Hal finally got his laughter under control, ending in a short little nervous chuckle.
"Yes. Here, sit on the couch." Dave made himself comfortable while Hal debugged the program one last time, then turned the computer and RF transmitter to the codec's auxiliary frequency.
"Shouldn't take long." He switched it on, passing the encryption key to the device in Dave's body, granting him access to instruct the bots. The status bar clicked quickly from 10 to 20 to 40 to 80 percent - done. He closed the connection and moved to sit next to Dave. "Okay. Now we wait."
One machine carried the instructions to another, who carried them to another, to another. The whole process blossomed in exponential fashion, running quicker than the blood which pumped through his veins. Soon, all the bots were informed and they set off on a search and rescue mission: find myelin, build axons. They coursed through his body unseen, hungry for something to do after so much routine maintenance and inactivity. But there was little point in waiting, awake, so shortly both men shuffled off to bed, exhausted from the past few days' mental expenditure and nervous inaction.
Dave woke the next morning with Hal's arm and one leg casually draped over him. He opened his eyes, forgetting to expect anything. Nothingness greeted him, same as any other day. It was only after he'd firmly pushed away the curtain of sleep that he remembered.
"Ah, fuck." It was mumbled, but enough to rouse Hal.
"Mmm... Dave? You awake?"
"Yes." His voice was laden with badly concealed disappointment.
"Anything? No. Well, I'm not surprised." He yawned, pulling himself out of sleep. "The nanomachines have only had 8 hours or so to work. Let's get you up and get some olelic acids in you."
Hal's plan consisted of toast drizzled with olive oil and peanut butter sandwiches. They sat, ate, sipped coffee, searching for something to do to pass the time. Eventually they headed into town, did some grocery shopping, stopped at the auto parts store. "I'll show you how to change the oil," Dave promised. Soon enough, Hal was on his back under the aging Chevy, arms coated in black motor oil, droplets splashed on his glasses. Dave directed him from above. "Okay, now that you've got the filter off, run your finger around the gasket rim. Any little burrs?" Hal did as instructed.
"No. Did I mention this sucks?"
"Yes, about a dozen times," Dave reminded him with a chuckle. "Stop complaining, you're finally becoming a man."
"My ass." They continued to work on the truck, repairing the dead directional light, changing the air filter.
"Congratulations. We are now the owners of the best maintained 87 Chevy in a five county radius." Hal returned his easy smile.
"Let's get cleaned up, I'm famished."
They went to bed with the same expectant thoughts buzzing in their heads. The next morning dawned in much the same fashion.
"Fuck," Dave breathed.
"Mmm. Morning."
"Nothing, Hal. Absolutely nothing."
"Really? ...What about light sensitivity? He reached up and rolled up the blinds.
"Nothing. Nothing, fucking nothing." Dave was angry now, suffocating the frightened disappointment.
"Well, we'll give it a little longer. At least nothing unexpectedly wrong is happening." And that was the truth. Hal had a little pit of worry twisting in his stomach ever since he'd started on the program. What if his efforts to create test scenarios and debug the code weren't enough? What if something went catastrophically wrong? The fact that no effects were showing, yet, was a disappointment and a relief all at the same time. And he kept reminding himself, the human body, even Dave's, worked slowly to heal. Even as the little bugs expended energy, they could only do so much at once.
So they gave it time. Filled the day with busy work, cleaning the house, picking up, sorting, trashing things they didn't need. It was with worried exhaustion that they collapsed in bed that night, nothing more than a few tense kisses exchanged.
"It'll be alright," Hal whispered into his skin as they fell asleep, bodies wound tightly around each other.
Hal was the first awake the next morning. He took the opportunity to draw his fingers over Dave's form, allowed his thoughts to blank. Worrying solved nothing. He simply enjoyed the moment and waited for Dave to open his eyes.
"Morning."
Dave was silent next to him, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
"Dave?"
A lone tear dripped down his cheek, disappearing in the pillow.
"Oh god, Dave." He gripped the larger man tightly, burying his face between his hair and the damp spot on the pillow. "Oh, god." His throat was tight. "I'm so sorry," he squeaked. "Let me try again, please. I'll fix it, fuck, I'll-" his voice was choked by tears. Dave gripped him back, hard. Neither man could say anything, what was there to say, anyway? Dave's dark world endured, trapping him in this tedious domesticated world where nothing changed. Everything that he'd earned, heightened senses, the confidence to move through a space without sight, what was it good for in the end? His former world was locked away from him forever. There would be no more missions, no more successes, no more risks. This was the last, final failure. His enemies could work away at their vile ambitions, efforts unchecked. He trembled, for everything, for the world, for his loss. The tears continued to fall.
"If-if only I'd been quicker. I could have stopped it, gotten you out of there. You shouldn't have been there in the first place! God! It's all my fault." Hal sobbed uncontrollably, and Dave did nothing to stop him. In a way, he was satiated with Hal's self-blame, his guilt. In a small section of his mind, he was agreeing. 'Yes - this is your fault. I'm trapped and it's all your fault.' But the thoughts didn't waft into his conscious mind and stayed buried, unspoken.
Hal was kissing his neck now, sloppy lips capturing his tears. "Please," he softly wailed, "please, let me try again." His mouth trailed down to his collarbone, sucking. "Please, please-" He barely breathed it into his skin, frightened and ashamed of himself. "...Please don't leave me." But Dave heard.
"I'm not going anywhere." A bitter chuckle. "Where would I go, anyway? I'd break my neck just walking down the fucking porch steps."
"No, no, no." Hal moved down his chest, licking down, in earnest. "Oh, Dave." His hand wound down to his hip and dug his nails in lightly, unconscious mind bent on keeping him. "You can't go. Not because you can't, but- but..." He worked his tongue around his navel, making his stomach muscles clench. "I need you. God, I couldn't live without you." Despite the hopelessness that smothered them, the vast yawning chasm of nothing that was beckoning to Dave, swallowing up his life, Hal's words and his sure deft hands were turning him on. He lay still while Hal worked down to his groin, taking his half-soft cock in his hands, stroking lightly, bringing it to his lips. He slicked it with his tongue before engulfing him, now fully erect, with his mouth.
This was so wrong, to feel such grief and such blatant, wanton need. But Dave was past caring. He just wanted to feel, to be overwhelmed. Hal was working himself open with his own fingers, the other hand on the base of Dave's penis, sucking furiously. His guilt was burning him up inside and he worked like a man possessed, applying just enough suction to the point of almost tipping into pain. Hal felt fingers winding through his hair, pulling viciously. Not back, not up, just pulling. He tilted his head up to catch Dave's face. His lips were drawn, teeth clenched, eyes shut, brows knit. As if he were dying, bleeding out. He drew his attention back to the task at hand, and soon he was ready, his fingers sliding in and out without much resistance. He licked Dave one last time, leaving copious amounts of saliva glistening on his weeping head.
He moved his hands to the soldier's torso, positioning himself, but Dave flipped him on his back, pinning his wrists to the sheets. He shifted both wrists to one hand guiding himself with the other. No words were said, and he entered him with one swift motion. Hal grunted, biting his lip. He was ready, but, but... He still wasn't quite used to this, his insides ached, filled completely. Dave moved his wrists to both hands again, bearing down with all his weight. Hal clenched his waist with his legs. It was vicious, brutal. Dave set a punishing pace, then doubled it. The bed creaked underneath them and they gasped from the effort.
"More," Hal breathed and he complied. The tears continued to flow and he cried out, pleasure and penance burning away the guilt. Dave's mind was burning away the feelings of hopelessness, despair. He lost himself, thrusting harder and deeper and spilling his agony into Hal. He followed soon after, erupting hot and sticky all over his chest.
Dave struggled to catch his breath, laying back and collapsing. For a few moments of post-coital bliss his mind was blank, euphoric. Then the black tendrils crept back in.
"I wish I could see you like this. I have an idea of what you look like, but it's unfinished." He sighed. "I want to see your eyes. I never really looked before, and now..." Hal was silent, understanding nothing he could say would take it away, make any of this better.
***
The next week was a monotony of activity and a roller coaster of emotion. Dave had nothing to do, all the mindless tasks were finished save those never-ending chores: dishes, clothes, cleaning. Hal sat fixedly in front of the computer, typing intermittently, hope not quite killed. But there was little he could find little fault with his code. He made it more efficient, certainly, fixed one long-shot potential bug, and spent the remainder of the time in impotent silence. He migrated from bouts of uncharacteristic swearing, to tepid silence, to quiet crying. At one point he even threw his Gurren Lagann coffee cup against the wall, watching it shatter with furious satisfaction. After a few days, he resorted to drinking instead, curling up on the couch, staring at nothing. He quickly bypassed the shot glass and sipped straight from the bottle of vodka instead. Dave managed to take it away from him at first, only letting him alone with it for a handful of minutes, just so he couldn't get right and properly soused. At least harping on Hal kept him from dwelling on his own hopeless state.
But his watchdog phase was only effective for so long and clever Hal found ways of stashing the vodka in other fashions - behind the sofa, in his coffee cup, under the bed. Several days ended very early, with Hal passed out on the couch, limbs arranged in the haphazard state only true drunkenness can achieve. Dave left him there and they started to sleep separately again. When at last, the vodka was gone, Hal stole the truck keys and escaped into town, abandoning himself in a bottle of cheap tequila. He spent that following morning recovering in the cab of their truck on a deserted road along the train tracks. His head throbbed. What was he doing? Honestly? He'd left Dave alone like the coward he was. He wasn't strong enought to deal with this head on, couldn't face up to his failings and support him as he'd been. He'd have to do something. Get them out of this town? To where, really? Another city, another house, just so Dave would have to map it all again?
That wasn't the answer, but they needed a fresh start of some sort. He needed to make amends. Hal sighed heavily, summed up his courage, and put the key in the ignition. He would have to be brave, even with a raging hangover. He gathered peace offerings in town and presented them haltingly to Dave when he walked in the door.
"I've been an asshole, I'm sorry." Dave sat on the couch, a bitter 'damn right' plastered on his face. "Cigarettes? I got you a carton of your favorite." The edges of his pursed lips quirked in amusement, even if his eyes still shone with betrayal and anger.
"You're not going to drink today."
"No, I'm not." He set them down on the coffee table. "I got you something else, too." He placed the lopsided object in Dave's hands, watching as his fingers traced the planes and curves, quickly mapping it and throwing a confused look in Hal's direction. "It's a guitar," he added needlessly. "I figured... well, I've never been musically inclined, but I didn't know if maybe you'd be interested. I bought it off a guy at the gas station." Dave's mouth twitched in the beginnings of a genuine smile, his eyes softening.
"You sappy bastard. Thanks."
It was still awkward after that, the two men finding their own spaces in the house, but as Hal was frying up dinner later that night, Dave approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around him and placing a small kiss on the shell of his ear. "Thank you." For snapping out of it, for coming back, for not driving me to hate you.
That night they shared the same bed again, wrapped tentatively in each other's arms.
The morning was the same as always. Dave savored the moment, Hal's warm body pressed against his, the smooth sheets covering them. The peace outside, birds calling each other, cars in the distance. If he had to endure a life without sight, without action, at least he'd stay in Hal's arms. This accident had brought them together, and he was grateful for that. Why couldn't it have happened otherwise? He sighed and rolled over, away from the painfully bright sun, burying his face in Hal's hair. It took ten seconds for his mind to clear.
Was that right? Something didn't add up. He opened his eyes out of habit and found himself looking at Hal's brown hair, only two inches from his face. Everything was fuzzy and blurry, but... it was there. Oh god, it was there! A thrill ran through his body and he gripped Hal's torso tightly. Hal. He couldn't breathe, the air came in short gasps through his nose. An unfamiliar room coalesced around him, the light reflected off the white walls stabbed at his raw nerves but he forced his eyes open, refusing to squint. Dave propped himself up and peered over Hal's shoulder. He was sleeping soundly, his eyes shut, lines of worry smoothed on his forehead. Beautiful. A sob caught in his throat. His Hal. His forearms quivered, threatening to give out, overwhelmed by emotion. His heart was racing.
He was overcome by a desire to see those eyes open, so he leaned down and kissed him awake, softly at first, then licking with his tongue, begging Hal to open his mouth. He kept his eyes open, frightened to shut them away. Hal returned the kiss, tongue stroking over Dave's moaning slightly as he regained consciousness.
"You're feeling better this morning."
"Oh, you have no idea." His voice caught, trembling. Hal opened his eyes quizzically only to find Dave's own bearing down on him, flickering in small movements, focusing and capturing every detail. Green eyes. That's right. He'd forgotten. Hal's gorgeous, piercing green eyes.
It didn't take long for realization to dawn on Hal, watching his focused pupils. They had always been wide, wandering, fixed on a point somewhere with no meaning. This was different, totally different. They latched onto Hal's and refused to let go. His mouth fell open.
"No. No?" He refused to believe. He would not let his own stupidity toy with him. But a sliver of hope stuck in his side and burrowed deep. "Dave?" it came out as a squeak, barely audible.
"Yes?" A smile trembled over his lips. Seeing the untempered joy on Dave's face was answer enough. His eyes filled with tears and Dave's lips split into a grin that engulfed his whole face. "Yeah. Yeah." It was all he could manage before Hal coughed out a little laugh and pulled him down into a kiss. A searing kiss between hungry mouths where tongues danced, teeth clashed. He felt like his soul was being devoured. And through it all, their eyes remained connected, daring to hope, to believe. This was heaven magnified - the feel of Hal underneath him, warm, trembling. His mouth, so hot and desperate. And his eyes, glowing green that impaled the core of his being.
Dave tore the sheets off the bed and attacked Hal's lounge pants next. His cock was already at attention, throbbing and eager. Dave held his thighs down with his hands, keeping their gazes locked. He licked a line all along the underside of his penis and watched the ecstasy carve itself onto the scientist's face. Oh god, what he'd been missing! The sight of him, quivering, overwhelmed, went straight to his own cock and he ground against Hal's leg as he took him into his mouth. Admittedly, he'd never done this with a man before, but instinct and pure emotion were an easy substitute for knowledge. Hal keened out his pleasure and before long was pulling on Dave's hair, begging him to stop.
"I-I can't take it. Just, just hold on." Dave drew back, kissing along his stomach instead, keeping him pierced with his eyes. "God, Dave. I..." He couldn't finish, could barely breathe. "Please, I want you to fuck me. Please." His mouth curled into a hungry feral grin, moving his hand to stroke through Hal's hair, down across his cheek, over his mouth. Hal opened his lips and sucked the offered fingers inside, bathing them with his tongue, fucking his fingers just as sure as he was fucking him with his eyes. Those green, green eyes, brimming with desire, relief, lust, hope. Love. God, it must be. It was so heavy in his gaze and Dave found it hard to breathe. He pulled his hand back, added a bit of lotion from the nightstand, and pressed them inside Hal. Even now, his eyes stayed open. He sucked in two great lungfuls of air, moaning wantonly at the end of each, nearly hyper-ventilating. His lids drooped, but stayed open, fixed on the man who was spreading him wide open, stretching him, filling him with promises to be kept in short order. He nearly came from the sight and wrapped his hand around the base of his own erection, squeezing lightly, belaying his orgasm.
There were so many things Dave wanted to say, but nothing seemed sufficient. Instead, he crawled up Hal's body, kissing him forcefully, making both of them nearly gag on the other's tongue. He needed - so much. He needed to drown on feeling. He caressed Hal's thighs, spreading them, entering him achingly slow, drawing it out. Those green eyes clouded, overwhelmed, his mouth hung open, breathing in shallow little pants. Dave set a slow, deep rhythm, determined to touch every nerve ending, set them both on fire. He changed his angle and watched Hal concede defeat, his eyes rolling back in his head. Something clenched painfully in Dave's chest at that, seeing bare bliss painted over Hal's face. God, how he'd dreamed of this, wanted it, but never let the need overwhelm him. He kept it under control all these weeks because he knew he'd never see it. And now here it was, in front of him, the sight of Hal lost in the throes of passion. It was etching itself into his soul, and he abandoned himself in frantic energy, emptying himself into Hal's warm body.
Hal was quick to recover, propping himself on his elbows and staring at Dave as if he were the single most precious thing on earth. It wasn't really a stretch.
"I don't believe it." Dave caught his breath.
"Neither do I." He crawled up the bed, wrapping him in his arms. “You did it. You know that, right?"
"I-I don't believe it. It could be by accident, it could just be your body's own resiliency-"
"No. You did it. Thank you." He crushed their mouths together, absolving both men for all the trials, the fights, the hardships endured since N38.
"Dave. I know you know this, but it has to be said." He clutched his chin. "I love you. I always have. At first it was just admiration, but... but. It wasn't a long leap and I've been head over heels for you for years. I just - I just need you to know that. I would never hurt you on purpose, or put you in a situation where-" Dave silenced him with his lips.
"Stop. I know. I trust you. I think that's pretty apparent." He cracked a smile. "I... I know you know this, but..." he swallowed despite himself. The words were easy after all. They had been dancing in his head for a while now. "I love you."
***
The sky was ebony dark, just the small piercing stars above. The moon was gone, the clouds had fled. Even the headlights on the Chevy were dead. Hal edged the truck to the side of the road, giving a meaningful glance to Dave.
"Be careful, for fuck's sake." A tight feral smile split his lips.
"Always."
"I'll be waiting right here." Dave reached across the seat, and crushed their mouths together, desperate.
"I know." And with that, he opened the door and disappeared into the blackness.
He didn't bother with stealth this time. They were only a quarter mile from the silo, and he sprinted the distance to the concrete monolith, bathed in black. There wasn't a single light. The blast doors on the entry hatch were loosely latched with a chain. Dave had brought plenty of supplies for this mission. He flipped open a miniature cutting torch and made short work of the metal links. He leaned against the door and pushed, cringing as it slid open with a loud, sickening sound of rusted metal. The hallway was dark inside, until he took one step and the whole complex was bathed in light. He squinted through it, dodging to the side to escape a hail of gunfire that never came.
Slowly, he peeked around the edge of the door. It was silent and ghostly inside.
"Snake? What happened?" Hal's concerned voice traveled over the codec.
"Think I tripped some automatic security system. No one's here. Yet," he added.
With a swiftness he'd worried had abandoned him, Dave slipped inside the doors, slithering to the first room, kicking open the door, training his M4 assault rifle steadily at each corner. Empty.
He checked each room in the same fashion, but they were all the same. Empty, with a very fine dust covering everything. He was at the end of the corridor now, and navigated down the stairs, keeping his eyes trained on the bottom, watching for movement as he flew along the metal treads. He was at the last step swiftly and noticed the three hatch doors were open, unlatched. The blood stains he'd remembered splattered on the metal were absent. His senses sharpened, ducking around the first two. He squared himself, stood back, and kicked the last door wide open. As it ground open, he darted back behind safe cover. Someone had cleaned that blood. He was not going to be lured into complacency despite the easy access.
Slowly, he edged the barrel of his gun into the door frame, peering around. The room was empty. Or rather, the areas he could see were empty. The mutilated bodies were gone. The machine and the generator were still there. Shiny and clean. He moved into the room cautiously, edging around the hulking contraption, waiting for something to pop out of the corner of his eye.
"You're a sight for sore eyes." Dave pivoted on his heel, gun trained at 6 o'clock. Nothing. The disembodied voice continued. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to come back. Did you bring that inept little friend of yours? I think he'd make an excellent test subject." He bristled.
"I'm your problem now, Bennet. Focus on that, and how you're going to spend the last few minutes of your life." Dry laughter echoed around the room.
"I think you'll find we have you trapped, so your threats are hollow." Dave continued to edge around the machine. A round went off, clipping the metal close by his head and he pulled back, flattening himself against the evil device. He edged around the other side and was presented with the same greeting, round embedding itself in the concrete wall at his back.
Trapped, eh? That's just what he wanted. There were at least two of them in the room, judging by the slight difference in the cadence of the muzzle blasts. And three, plus Bennet. He wouldn't be here, not for all his elaborate setup. Besides, under all that bravado, he was just scared. Insane and scared. A great combination. Dave pulled a grenade from the bandolier on his back, sliding it into the M203A1 launcher at the end of his carbine.
"You'd better have an army if you want to fuck with me." He aimed in a high arc over the machine and clicked the trigger. The violent concussion rocked the room, the explosion sending bits of concrete like shrapnel bouncing against the walls. Over the ringing echo in his ears, he heard the unabashed moans of a man in blinding pain. He twisted around one end of the machine and clicked off a dozen rounds, splitting his skull open and ending his misery. His companion, obviously unharmed, filled the air with gunfire, refusing to relent even as Dave bounded back behind the safe steel. He could feel the tremors as the metal shook with each bullet. The barrage stopped and Dave could hear, faintly - thank you enhanced hearing - as the man dry-fired once. Realizing his mistake, he paused to reload. It would only take him two seconds, a few well trained motions to re-arm himself. Dave sprang into action, twisting around the side of the device, locking onto the man whose eyes shone wide with fear. He knew what was coming.
Four rounds burst from the end of the M4 and erupted in the man's chest, painting the concrete behind him with chunky red paint. Just four. That's all that was needed.
The air had been filled with the soft electronic static of an open comm line, but it abruptly cut and a silent void followed in its wake. Bennet was on the move. Where? His thoughts raced ahead to Hal, waiting on the highway just outside the complex. No - must not panic. Must not move without thinking. He shut down his emotions as best he could, as he was trained to. He spared a thought for the machine, propelling another grenade into it, rendering all the cruel mechanisms useless. Job done, Dave slipped back out of the room, pointing the gun overhead, expecting men. Nothing.
"Otacon?"
"What's going on? I heard-"
"Drive away. I have one missing. Just one. I'll find him but-"
"No, I'm not going anywhere!"
"Otacon, for the love of god, don't argue with me. Drive away." The commanding tone in his voice brooked no argument.
"Al-alright. Stay in touch."
"You got it."
He started up the stairs, goosebumps pimpling his flesh. It felt just like last time. But it wouldn't be the same, it couldn't. He reached the top and slid the end of the rifle around the door frame. Immediately, bullets filled the threshold.
"Nice try. You're still fucking trapped, genius." Dave considered saying the same thing, but instead calmly reached for his last grenade. He jabbed the launcher beyond the rim of the door and fired blindly. The explosion shook the walls and eroded his hearing down to deafening white noise. But the bullets stopped and after a half minute he had regained enough awareness to hear soft liquid gurgling, oxygen being forced through seeping blood.
Dave loosed three rounds from his gun anyway, just for good measure. When nothing was returned, he cautiously poked his head around the door. There on the floor, as expected, was a bleeding, dying Bennet and the last of his henchmen, dead. Dave kept his gun trained as he approached. His eyes were unfocused, soft, in order to catch any potential movement from the doors lining the wrecked hallway. He kicked the gun away from Bennet's outstretched hand.
"How many times do I have to kill you?!" A sharp cough answered him, blood pouring from the maniac's mouth and lacerated chest. "I should make you suffer, turn your machine on you." Fear blossomed in his clouded eyes. "I wonder how long it will take your brains to boil? How long did it take for them?!" But the man was quickly fading and his threats were largely lost on him. "You fucking pig. All the pain you put me through." All the pain you put us through. But he didn't say it. The trained solider knew better than to elude to any potential connections, in case a phantom was waiting in the shadows and the knowledge used against him, later.
He was disgusted with the whole tableau and pointed the barrel at Bennet's mouth. One round. That's all it was worth. His skull fragmented and his decapitated body bounced bonelessly against the floor.
"Otacon?"
"Yes! Yes, what's going on?"
"I need a ride."
"30 seconds." The sound of a revving engine spilled over the codec for a fraction of a moment before the connection was closed. Dave continued down the corridor, checking each room for good measure. Then he was out, on the ramp, running and pulling open the door of the truck.
"Let's get the hell out of here." It didn't need to be said, and Hal's foot was already on the gas, rear wheels grabbing the pavement, launching them away from the hell hole. They were a team. And they were back.
Dave relaxed in the passenger seat, muscles still twitching from adrenaline, excitement. His chin pointed, eyes confident, he cycled the slide on his rifle, clearing the chamber. The satisfying sound of oiled gunmetal filled the cab. The soldier had returned. "Next time, I'm going to have to pickup more grenades," he muttered, clicking on the safety. Hal smirked without tearing his eyes from the road. As they drove, Dave watched the beautiful pinpoints of light filling the night sky.
FIN