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Jan. 23rd, 2009 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sneakysilverOrginally posted at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mgs_slash here.
Title: An Eight
Pairing: Snake/Otacon
Rating: PG-13 (GASP!)
Word Count: 3,035
Summery: Hal goes to Alaska to try and enlist Snake's help in creating Philanthropy.
Coldfoot, Alaska.
60 Miles north of the Arctic Circle.
Hal Emmerich took a step out the DHC-2 Beaver Bush Plane that brought him here. He didn’t expect to see much. Nor did he expect to see anyone waiting to greet him. He frowned at the sight regardless, no one.
Pleasantries were exchanged with the pilot, who commented that most tourists come in the summer months. Hal laughed it off as he gathered his bags. Hal explained he was here looking for a friend of his. He left out the legendary mercenary part as he relayed a basic description of his friend.
“Ah, Him. He comes around about once a week. Is he expecting you?”
“No, this was kind of last minute…” Hal mumbled out almost regretfully. His eyes squinted over the gray horizon until they settled on his destination, “That’s the Inn?”
“That’s it. Good luck to ya. Hope you find your friend.”
“Me too,” Hal said in a low voice as he trekked across the snow.
The inn was better than he expected. The town was little more than a truck-stop; he expected truck-stop like accommodations. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad. Here, there was an attempt to make things look nice. The check-in was flanked on either side by three-foot tall fake potted plants. If not for the dust on the leaves, they looked almost real. Behind the counter sat a bored looking old man nursing an equally old pipe. Hal was quick to get his room. Anticipation was starting to build up in the engineer’s movements. The old man made some comment that Hal didn’t hear. He took his room keys.
Room 8.
Hal smiled faintly when he reached the door. The top screw of the 8 had been missing for some time. He traced his finger along the number until it returned to its original place. Drawing his finger back, the 8 held its position. For about 1.4 seconds.
Hal shook his head with an amused mutter, “It’s still an eight either way…”
The room was sparsely furnished. A couple faded pictures of glaciers and arctic foxes adorned the wall. It had the basics, bed, TV, desk, bathroom and most importantly, coffee pot and microwave.
Hal deposited his bags next to the bed and sat down. He plucked the glasses from his face and let out a long sigh. Now what? He tossed his glasses aside on the bed. He clasped his hands under his chin.
Philanthropy was on the verge of being realized. Their core members to date: Hal Emmerich, Nastasha Romanenko, Mei Ling but they needed one more. They needed one more to bring the dream to full realization. They needed Solid Snake.
Snake was still in Alaska and hard to reach, even by codec. Meryl was easier to contact. She had returned to the lower 48 a few months after Shadow Moses. She returned to the military to form a new unit of FOXHOUND. That’s what ended their relationship. From what Hal understood, they were still on friendly terms but no longer close. From Meryl they learned Snake’s general location. Some 40 miles outside of Coldfoot, Alaska in what Meryl described as a hovel.
So now, if Meryl couldn’t get him to leave what made Hal believe he could do any better? Fact was, he wasn’t so sure he could. It was Nastasha and Mei Ling that convinced him. He wasn’t sure what they thought he could do any different from them. They had only enough money to send one person to Alaska though. They seemed to believe he was the one for the job.
Hal supposes there is some truth to that. He, Snake and Meryl had all survived Shadow Moses together. He actively worked with Snake during the mission, even if most of his help amounted to hacking computers and finding information. He even helped him escape his cell, in his own way.
Hal rubbed his face, “He’s my friend,” he concluded, “Maybe…even… the best friend I’ve ever had.” He glanced toward the clock, squinting to make out the blurred numbers before relenting and putting his glasses back on. 4:54 pm.
Time to find food and ask around town.
---
It wasn’t hard to find anything. It wasn’t an understatement to say you could throw a stone from one end of the town to the other. Hal was never very athletically inclined but even he could throw a stone clear across town.
A quick survey of the main street, the only street: A general store, café, gas station, equipment rental, hotel, bar, and a post office. There was also a RV park that stood empty until the tourists returned in spring. From what Hal read about the town, it had a winter population of about 12 people give or take a couple truckers. Hal had flown in to save time, but the town was right by a main road.
He went to the café first where he got a quick history of the town just by looking over the walls. In such a small town, he couldn’t help but feel more like an outsider than he normally did. He met a handful of the town’s population in the café. Which could have easily been half the town. Hal ordered his food and slipped into a booth.
“They say you’re a friend of David’s?”
Hal startled. His mind processed the question, internally responding, who’s David? A mental groan with realization, David, that’s Snake’s name. The person who spoke slid into the seat across from him. An older man, grizzled, forty some odd years.
Hal found his voice, “Ah…Yeah. Didn’t get a chance to call ahead, it’s kind of important.”
“Oh.” It sounded half like a question and half like a statement; which left Hal floundering on a response. Luckily, the man continued on while sizing up the slighter man out of the corner of his eye, “His girl left him a while back. You ain’t here about that, are ya?”
“I… what?” Hal shook his head, “No. No. This is something else.”
The old man raised a brow, obviously wanting more information.
Hal was saved by his food arriving. He immediately began eating to save himself from giving away any more.
“What’s your name, son?” asked the older man, leaning back in his spot.
Hal paused mid-bite. His eyes came up to meet the man’s before swallowing.
The man gestured with a hand, “M’ name’s Pete.”
Hal swallowed again. A quick calculation running through his head… Should he use his real name? This man already knew Snake’s. Wiped his mouth with a napkin before offering, “It’s… Hal.”
Pete’s face seemed to brighten, Hal thought. The man nodded, satisfied, “You’re one of the few folks I’ve ever heard him talk about. When he talks at all, that is. You must be pretty close friends, eh?”
Hal felt surprised; he wasn’t really sure why. Friends. It never really occurred to him, that Snake considered him a friend. A close friend. Hal considered Snake a friend, sure… but he was used to one-sided relationships with one-way affection. He realized for the first time that Snake might actually like him beyond a useful contact. “Uh, yeah… I guess.”
Pete smiled, “He’ll be coming into town before long. Couple of his dogs been sick, the medicine should be in tomorrow.”
Hal soon finished his awkward meal and his awkward conversation and headed back to his room. He had learned a few things at the price of information about himself. That seemed to be the currency of small towns. Information. Gossip. No wonder Snake lived 40 miles out.
Hal prepared for bed while digesting what he learned from Pete. Snake only came to town for two reasons: supplies and money. Snake, or rather, David worked as a guide. He’d take tourists out with his sled team, let them have their little adventure and take them back. Tourists would pay hundreds of dollars just for the chance to say they rode a dog sled. This wasn’t the prime tourist season so the town didn’t see much of him. But according to Pete, when it came to David’s dogs, he’d do anything even if it meant coming into town. Pete went on to tell a story about how a half-staved polar bear went after his dogs and how David risked his neck to draw the thing away.
Hal smiled slightly, if that old guy had been talking about anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed him.
As Hal lay back in bed, he realized how nervous he was. He knew the worst that could happen is he’d say ‘No.’ Thus putting an end to the dream of Philanthropy. Who was he, Hal thought, to come in and rob Snake of well earned retirement; but at the same time, the number of lives they could save…
He’ll never get to sleep thinking about this. He’ll find Snake and tell him tomorrow. He’ll let him decide.
------
Hal awoke the next day. The clock read: 7:45 am. No sun outside. Yep, Alaska.
He showered and ate. He’d picked up something at the general store the day before so he wouldn’t be forced into another awkward conversation first thing in the morning.
Thank God, for the in-room coffee maker.
Hal spied the clock again, 8:14 am. Now what? Stand around the post office waiting for Snake? Then what? ‘Oh, Hi, Snake, sorry about your sick dog, but I’m here to drag you half-way across the world to chase walking-death-mobiles.’ Yeah, that would go over well. Some friend he is, coming all this way to steal what peace the man has left.
Hal let out a frustrated sigh. He briefly entertained the idea of staying in his room all day hiding. But knowing small towns, Snake would be told he was here as soon as he set foot in town. This was a bad idea, Hal thought to himself, I should have never let them talk me into this.
Gathering his courage, Hal put on his various layers of winter clothes and headed out.
--
Gray. No matter the time of day, the world was gray outside. Just enough light reflecting on the snow to brighten it above pitch dark.
Hal watched his breath fog up and drift away. He let his eyes follow the fog until it dispersed into nothingness. He decided to walk to the café to wait, and do his best to dodge probing questions by the locals.
“Hey.” A familiar voice behind him.
Hal startled and turned mid-stride. He found himself surprised by the sight. A familiar build bundled under layers of winter clothes. A fur lined hood pulled down tight, goggles pulled up on his forehead, his scarf pulled down so a cigarette could occupy his mouth unobstructed, it took Hal a moment to recognize him. It was the eyes that made everything click into place. Hal smiled despite himself, “Sn-“ he caught himself, “Ah… um, I guess it’s David, now, isn’t it?”
Snake nodded vaguely, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Yeah. What’s so important to bring you all the way out here?”
Hal dreaded hearing that question from the moment he set foot on that plane. He had thought out many careful responses to that question. Instead of saying any of them, his mind blanked and he said dumbly, “I need you.”
Snake gave him a strange look.
Hal cringed, slapping a gloved hand over his face with a groan, “Uh… I mean. That is… We need you. It’s… it’s a long story. But we-”
Snake took a final drag on his cigarette before crushing it in the snow, “Got it. We’ll talk later.” His hand gestured toward the post office where a truck was pulling in.
Hal mentally kicked himself. He could have handled that better. “Oh…right… They said one of your dogs is sick.”
“My lead and right wheel,” Snake said, in what Hal assumed was musher talk. Snake was already headed toward the truck. Hal followed.
Snake obtained his package and exchanged as few words as possible while doing so. Hal stood by watching, Snake was better at being antisocial than he was. It was almost impressive.
Snake glanced over and jerked his head toward the inn. Hal faintly wondered how he knew where he was staying, then he remembered how small the town was. They walked back toward the inn without exchanging a word. When they stood at the line of doors, Snake gave Hal a questioning look.
Hal started to fumble for his keys, “Uh.. Eight.”
Snake paused outside the door; one hand arm held the package at his side while is other reached out to the door. Hal looked up briefly at the movement. Snake's hand was shifting the 8 back upright.
Hal found himself smiling slightly as he slipped the key in the lock. “It's still an eight either way.”
Snake shot him a look before pulling his hand away.
Once inside the little hotel room. Hal began to strip out of his heavy outer layer of clothing.
Snake leaned back against the door. He surveyed the room with a strange look on his face. Sadness... maybe, but there was a faint smile. His head turned abruptly to look at Hal, “My answer is 'Yes.'”
Hal stopped, one arm still in his heavy outer jacket, “...to what?”
Snake shrugged, “To Philanthropy.” His head leaned back and a smirk crossed his face, “Meryl told me.”
Hal pulled his other arm free. His gaze fixed on the floor. For some reason, his mouth felt dry. He must've decided before Hal even got off the plane. Hal felt useless and worst of all: right. He didn't think anything he said would've made a difference in the first place. Drawing in a breath, “So... I just wasted my time?”
“No.”
No? Hal looked up. He found Snake had moved from the door. He had set down his package, removed his hood and goggles. He began to pull away the scarf as he elaborated, “If it had been anyone else... I would have said 'No.'”
Hal stood speechless for a time. The best he could muster was a barely audible, “What...?”
Snake seemed uneasy, his eyes doing their best to focus on anything but Hal. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, “Wanted to see you.”
Hal felt the need to sit. He backed to the bed and sat on the edge of it.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
Snake broke the silence, “You’re a good man, Hal.” He looked over to engineer purposely as he said his name, “You’re a good friend and I trust you.”
Hal found himself staring blankly at Snake. He trusts…me.
Snake tugged open his outer jacket, “If you think it can work. So can I.”
Hal couldn’t hide the look of amazement on his face.
***
Coldfoot, Alaska.
Five years later.
A finger traced the edge of the 8 then swiveled it back up right.
“It’s still an eight either way, David.”
David sighed wistfully, “Yeah.” He struggled with the door a moment before it opened fully. The building had aged. So had Dave.
Hal entered, carrying his computer case and bag. He smirked to Dave, “Unless you turn it sideways. Then it’s infinite.”
Dave chuckled slightly. He brought in his single bag and closed the door behind him. The room hadn’t changed much in five years. The pictures on the wall had faded. The carpet had grown a long rip at the base of the door frame. The bed clothes and drapes were new, in an attempt to hide the room’s age.
Hal put down his bags. They had come in the warmer months; sun outside and no need for such heavy clothes. Hal removed his light weight trench coat and looked over to David.
David was standing with his back against the door like he had all those years ago. Clothes were different. He looked older, older than nature said he should. Hal was about the same age as David, yet Hal looked almost 15 years younger. Hal frowned slightly at the injustice done to Dave by his genes.
Hal sighed softly, “Do you ever regret saying ‘Yes?’”
David pushed off from the door and dropped his bag, “No. I don’t.”
Hal turned to face David, “Yes, but don’t you ever…wish that…” he gestured hoplessly with his hands. His head tilted downward as he did so, his glasses starting to slip down his nose.
“No, Hal. I don’t.” David advanced toward Hal casually. A genuine smile crossed his lips. His hand rose to the side of Hal’s face where he pushed up the engineer’s glasses with a thumb. “You gave me a purpose, Hal. Out here, I was waiting to die.”
Hal opened his mouth to say something more. But that thumb moved from the frame of his glasses to his lips to silence him.
“Like you were, at Shadow Moses. Waiting for the bombs to drop.”
Hal’s eyes rose to meet David’s. He could never quite tell if those eyes were green or blue; they seemed to change their color with Dave’s moods. Impossible. A trick of light. But they mesmerized Hal just the same. A swirling mixture of green and blue, like the ocean. “Dave… I…”
David smiled with incredible warmth, “We’re the same.” He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, “We want to atone for our sins. We want to leave behind something other than death and destruction to future generations.” His lips neared the other man’s, “We give each other purpose, Hal.” Their lips touched in the briefest of kisses. A grin formed on Dave’s face, “An eight either way. Only difference is perception.”
Hal allowed that warmth to penetrate him, a grin of his own growing, “Unless it’s infinite.”
Dave chuckled deep in his throat, “Infinity with you? I could go for that.” His features gave way to a lustful gaze.
Hal caught himself smirking, “Damn you for making sense.” Hal accented that statement by cupping Dave’s crotch and squeezing the warmth he found there.
Dave pressed closer and offered an exhale of approval. His arms wrapped about the slighter man. “Yeah. Damn me.”
mgs_slash here.Title: An Eight
Pairing: Snake/Otacon
Rating: PG-13 (GASP!)
Word Count: 3,035
Summery: Hal goes to Alaska to try and enlist Snake's help in creating Philanthropy.
Coldfoot, Alaska.
60 Miles north of the Arctic Circle.
Hal Emmerich took a step out the DHC-2 Beaver Bush Plane that brought him here. He didn’t expect to see much. Nor did he expect to see anyone waiting to greet him. He frowned at the sight regardless, no one.
Pleasantries were exchanged with the pilot, who commented that most tourists come in the summer months. Hal laughed it off as he gathered his bags. Hal explained he was here looking for a friend of his. He left out the legendary mercenary part as he relayed a basic description of his friend.
“Ah, Him. He comes around about once a week. Is he expecting you?”
“No, this was kind of last minute…” Hal mumbled out almost regretfully. His eyes squinted over the gray horizon until they settled on his destination, “That’s the Inn?”
“That’s it. Good luck to ya. Hope you find your friend.”
“Me too,” Hal said in a low voice as he trekked across the snow.
The inn was better than he expected. The town was little more than a truck-stop; he expected truck-stop like accommodations. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad. Here, there was an attempt to make things look nice. The check-in was flanked on either side by three-foot tall fake potted plants. If not for the dust on the leaves, they looked almost real. Behind the counter sat a bored looking old man nursing an equally old pipe. Hal was quick to get his room. Anticipation was starting to build up in the engineer’s movements. The old man made some comment that Hal didn’t hear. He took his room keys.
Room 8.
Hal smiled faintly when he reached the door. The top screw of the 8 had been missing for some time. He traced his finger along the number until it returned to its original place. Drawing his finger back, the 8 held its position. For about 1.4 seconds.
Hal shook his head with an amused mutter, “It’s still an eight either way…”
The room was sparsely furnished. A couple faded pictures of glaciers and arctic foxes adorned the wall. It had the basics, bed, TV, desk, bathroom and most importantly, coffee pot and microwave.
Hal deposited his bags next to the bed and sat down. He plucked the glasses from his face and let out a long sigh. Now what? He tossed his glasses aside on the bed. He clasped his hands under his chin.
Philanthropy was on the verge of being realized. Their core members to date: Hal Emmerich, Nastasha Romanenko, Mei Ling but they needed one more. They needed one more to bring the dream to full realization. They needed Solid Snake.
Snake was still in Alaska and hard to reach, even by codec. Meryl was easier to contact. She had returned to the lower 48 a few months after Shadow Moses. She returned to the military to form a new unit of FOXHOUND. That’s what ended their relationship. From what Hal understood, they were still on friendly terms but no longer close. From Meryl they learned Snake’s general location. Some 40 miles outside of Coldfoot, Alaska in what Meryl described as a hovel.
So now, if Meryl couldn’t get him to leave what made Hal believe he could do any better? Fact was, he wasn’t so sure he could. It was Nastasha and Mei Ling that convinced him. He wasn’t sure what they thought he could do any different from them. They had only enough money to send one person to Alaska though. They seemed to believe he was the one for the job.
Hal supposes there is some truth to that. He, Snake and Meryl had all survived Shadow Moses together. He actively worked with Snake during the mission, even if most of his help amounted to hacking computers and finding information. He even helped him escape his cell, in his own way.
Hal rubbed his face, “He’s my friend,” he concluded, “Maybe…even… the best friend I’ve ever had.” He glanced toward the clock, squinting to make out the blurred numbers before relenting and putting his glasses back on. 4:54 pm.
Time to find food and ask around town.
---
It wasn’t hard to find anything. It wasn’t an understatement to say you could throw a stone from one end of the town to the other. Hal was never very athletically inclined but even he could throw a stone clear across town.
A quick survey of the main street, the only street: A general store, café, gas station, equipment rental, hotel, bar, and a post office. There was also a RV park that stood empty until the tourists returned in spring. From what Hal read about the town, it had a winter population of about 12 people give or take a couple truckers. Hal had flown in to save time, but the town was right by a main road.
He went to the café first where he got a quick history of the town just by looking over the walls. In such a small town, he couldn’t help but feel more like an outsider than he normally did. He met a handful of the town’s population in the café. Which could have easily been half the town. Hal ordered his food and slipped into a booth.
“They say you’re a friend of David’s?”
Hal startled. His mind processed the question, internally responding, who’s David? A mental groan with realization, David, that’s Snake’s name. The person who spoke slid into the seat across from him. An older man, grizzled, forty some odd years.
Hal found his voice, “Ah…Yeah. Didn’t get a chance to call ahead, it’s kind of important.”
“Oh.” It sounded half like a question and half like a statement; which left Hal floundering on a response. Luckily, the man continued on while sizing up the slighter man out of the corner of his eye, “His girl left him a while back. You ain’t here about that, are ya?”
“I… what?” Hal shook his head, “No. No. This is something else.”
The old man raised a brow, obviously wanting more information.
Hal was saved by his food arriving. He immediately began eating to save himself from giving away any more.
“What’s your name, son?” asked the older man, leaning back in his spot.
Hal paused mid-bite. His eyes came up to meet the man’s before swallowing.
The man gestured with a hand, “M’ name’s Pete.”
Hal swallowed again. A quick calculation running through his head… Should he use his real name? This man already knew Snake’s. Wiped his mouth with a napkin before offering, “It’s… Hal.”
Pete’s face seemed to brighten, Hal thought. The man nodded, satisfied, “You’re one of the few folks I’ve ever heard him talk about. When he talks at all, that is. You must be pretty close friends, eh?”
Hal felt surprised; he wasn’t really sure why. Friends. It never really occurred to him, that Snake considered him a friend. A close friend. Hal considered Snake a friend, sure… but he was used to one-sided relationships with one-way affection. He realized for the first time that Snake might actually like him beyond a useful contact. “Uh, yeah… I guess.”
Pete smiled, “He’ll be coming into town before long. Couple of his dogs been sick, the medicine should be in tomorrow.”
Hal soon finished his awkward meal and his awkward conversation and headed back to his room. He had learned a few things at the price of information about himself. That seemed to be the currency of small towns. Information. Gossip. No wonder Snake lived 40 miles out.
Hal prepared for bed while digesting what he learned from Pete. Snake only came to town for two reasons: supplies and money. Snake, or rather, David worked as a guide. He’d take tourists out with his sled team, let them have their little adventure and take them back. Tourists would pay hundreds of dollars just for the chance to say they rode a dog sled. This wasn’t the prime tourist season so the town didn’t see much of him. But according to Pete, when it came to David’s dogs, he’d do anything even if it meant coming into town. Pete went on to tell a story about how a half-staved polar bear went after his dogs and how David risked his neck to draw the thing away.
Hal smiled slightly, if that old guy had been talking about anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed him.
As Hal lay back in bed, he realized how nervous he was. He knew the worst that could happen is he’d say ‘No.’ Thus putting an end to the dream of Philanthropy. Who was he, Hal thought, to come in and rob Snake of well earned retirement; but at the same time, the number of lives they could save…
He’ll never get to sleep thinking about this. He’ll find Snake and tell him tomorrow. He’ll let him decide.
------
Hal awoke the next day. The clock read: 7:45 am. No sun outside. Yep, Alaska.
He showered and ate. He’d picked up something at the general store the day before so he wouldn’t be forced into another awkward conversation first thing in the morning.
Thank God, for the in-room coffee maker.
Hal spied the clock again, 8:14 am. Now what? Stand around the post office waiting for Snake? Then what? ‘Oh, Hi, Snake, sorry about your sick dog, but I’m here to drag you half-way across the world to chase walking-death-mobiles.’ Yeah, that would go over well. Some friend he is, coming all this way to steal what peace the man has left.
Hal let out a frustrated sigh. He briefly entertained the idea of staying in his room all day hiding. But knowing small towns, Snake would be told he was here as soon as he set foot in town. This was a bad idea, Hal thought to himself, I should have never let them talk me into this.
Gathering his courage, Hal put on his various layers of winter clothes and headed out.
--
Gray. No matter the time of day, the world was gray outside. Just enough light reflecting on the snow to brighten it above pitch dark.
Hal watched his breath fog up and drift away. He let his eyes follow the fog until it dispersed into nothingness. He decided to walk to the café to wait, and do his best to dodge probing questions by the locals.
“Hey.” A familiar voice behind him.
Hal startled and turned mid-stride. He found himself surprised by the sight. A familiar build bundled under layers of winter clothes. A fur lined hood pulled down tight, goggles pulled up on his forehead, his scarf pulled down so a cigarette could occupy his mouth unobstructed, it took Hal a moment to recognize him. It was the eyes that made everything click into place. Hal smiled despite himself, “Sn-“ he caught himself, “Ah… um, I guess it’s David, now, isn’t it?”
Snake nodded vaguely, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Yeah. What’s so important to bring you all the way out here?”
Hal dreaded hearing that question from the moment he set foot on that plane. He had thought out many careful responses to that question. Instead of saying any of them, his mind blanked and he said dumbly, “I need you.”
Snake gave him a strange look.
Hal cringed, slapping a gloved hand over his face with a groan, “Uh… I mean. That is… We need you. It’s… it’s a long story. But we-”
Snake took a final drag on his cigarette before crushing it in the snow, “Got it. We’ll talk later.” His hand gestured toward the post office where a truck was pulling in.
Hal mentally kicked himself. He could have handled that better. “Oh…right… They said one of your dogs is sick.”
“My lead and right wheel,” Snake said, in what Hal assumed was musher talk. Snake was already headed toward the truck. Hal followed.
Snake obtained his package and exchanged as few words as possible while doing so. Hal stood by watching, Snake was better at being antisocial than he was. It was almost impressive.
Snake glanced over and jerked his head toward the inn. Hal faintly wondered how he knew where he was staying, then he remembered how small the town was. They walked back toward the inn without exchanging a word. When they stood at the line of doors, Snake gave Hal a questioning look.
Hal started to fumble for his keys, “Uh.. Eight.”
Snake paused outside the door; one hand arm held the package at his side while is other reached out to the door. Hal looked up briefly at the movement. Snake's hand was shifting the 8 back upright.
Hal found himself smiling slightly as he slipped the key in the lock. “It's still an eight either way.”
Snake shot him a look before pulling his hand away.
Once inside the little hotel room. Hal began to strip out of his heavy outer layer of clothing.
Snake leaned back against the door. He surveyed the room with a strange look on his face. Sadness... maybe, but there was a faint smile. His head turned abruptly to look at Hal, “My answer is 'Yes.'”
Hal stopped, one arm still in his heavy outer jacket, “...to what?”
Snake shrugged, “To Philanthropy.” His head leaned back and a smirk crossed his face, “Meryl told me.”
Hal pulled his other arm free. His gaze fixed on the floor. For some reason, his mouth felt dry. He must've decided before Hal even got off the plane. Hal felt useless and worst of all: right. He didn't think anything he said would've made a difference in the first place. Drawing in a breath, “So... I just wasted my time?”
“No.”
No? Hal looked up. He found Snake had moved from the door. He had set down his package, removed his hood and goggles. He began to pull away the scarf as he elaborated, “If it had been anyone else... I would have said 'No.'”
Hal stood speechless for a time. The best he could muster was a barely audible, “What...?”
Snake seemed uneasy, his eyes doing their best to focus on anything but Hal. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, “Wanted to see you.”
Hal felt the need to sit. He backed to the bed and sat on the edge of it.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
Snake broke the silence, “You’re a good man, Hal.” He looked over to engineer purposely as he said his name, “You’re a good friend and I trust you.”
Hal found himself staring blankly at Snake. He trusts…me.
Snake tugged open his outer jacket, “If you think it can work. So can I.”
Hal couldn’t hide the look of amazement on his face.
***
Coldfoot, Alaska.
Five years later.
A finger traced the edge of the 8 then swiveled it back up right.
“It’s still an eight either way, David.”
David sighed wistfully, “Yeah.” He struggled with the door a moment before it opened fully. The building had aged. So had Dave.
Hal entered, carrying his computer case and bag. He smirked to Dave, “Unless you turn it sideways. Then it’s infinite.”
Dave chuckled slightly. He brought in his single bag and closed the door behind him. The room hadn’t changed much in five years. The pictures on the wall had faded. The carpet had grown a long rip at the base of the door frame. The bed clothes and drapes were new, in an attempt to hide the room’s age.
Hal put down his bags. They had come in the warmer months; sun outside and no need for such heavy clothes. Hal removed his light weight trench coat and looked over to David.
David was standing with his back against the door like he had all those years ago. Clothes were different. He looked older, older than nature said he should. Hal was about the same age as David, yet Hal looked almost 15 years younger. Hal frowned slightly at the injustice done to Dave by his genes.
Hal sighed softly, “Do you ever regret saying ‘Yes?’”
David pushed off from the door and dropped his bag, “No. I don’t.”
Hal turned to face David, “Yes, but don’t you ever…wish that…” he gestured hoplessly with his hands. His head tilted downward as he did so, his glasses starting to slip down his nose.
“No, Hal. I don’t.” David advanced toward Hal casually. A genuine smile crossed his lips. His hand rose to the side of Hal’s face where he pushed up the engineer’s glasses with a thumb. “You gave me a purpose, Hal. Out here, I was waiting to die.”
Hal opened his mouth to say something more. But that thumb moved from the frame of his glasses to his lips to silence him.
“Like you were, at Shadow Moses. Waiting for the bombs to drop.”
Hal’s eyes rose to meet David’s. He could never quite tell if those eyes were green or blue; they seemed to change their color with Dave’s moods. Impossible. A trick of light. But they mesmerized Hal just the same. A swirling mixture of green and blue, like the ocean. “Dave… I…”
David smiled with incredible warmth, “We’re the same.” He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, “We want to atone for our sins. We want to leave behind something other than death and destruction to future generations.” His lips neared the other man’s, “We give each other purpose, Hal.” Their lips touched in the briefest of kisses. A grin formed on Dave’s face, “An eight either way. Only difference is perception.”
Hal allowed that warmth to penetrate him, a grin of his own growing, “Unless it’s infinite.”
Dave chuckled deep in his throat, “Infinity with you? I could go for that.” His features gave way to a lustful gaze.
Hal caught himself smirking, “Damn you for making sense.” Hal accented that statement by cupping Dave’s crotch and squeezing the warmth he found there.
Dave pressed closer and offered an exhale of approval. His arms wrapped about the slighter man. “Yeah. Damn me.”
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