Dream ∆ 007
”Breathe, Raiden.”
A slender hand stroked Raiden’s cold, clammy brow and traced a winding path down the side of his sticky cheek, past the firm casing of his throat and over the jagged, cracked plastic of his chest. Her fingers slowed to a stop over a wound, unsteadily tracing its depth and width. Soft, smooth fabric soaked up the blood like a thirsty sponge.
He was hearing, seeing, breathing the world through a murky saltwater tank. The shape above him was little more than a blurred silhouette on bright white light. His eyelids fluttered.
“Stop talking. You must breathe.”
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“You c-c-c-can’t die, Jack.” A soft, padding sound. Footsteps. “She t-told me talking to you helps. C-c-can you hear me?”
Something tiny and tender touched his hand. The numbness hadn’t taken over. A jerky loll of his head, a squint of his twitching eyelids. There was a new silhouette this time, small, light. It was a little waif of a creature in the dimmed cabin lights.
Sunny… Madnar…. He saved my life… I’m not finished…
“S-s-s-s-STOP it, Jack! N-n-naomi told you not to t-talk.”
Let me go, Sunny. I shouldn’t be back here. Otacon… He is your family now…
“Y-Y-you’re making a mess, Jack.” A whimper. The soft cloth of a handkerchief pressed firmly against his mouth, holding the blood in. The breath wouldn’t come. “You can’t die. You s-s-still need to try my eggs! You have to promise, Jack.”
I have to … protect Snake… I’ve failed once before… Let me go, Sunny…
“You have to be the one to tell her, Jack. When you’re b-better. I c-c-cooked them right.”
Snake… Did he find… Big M--
She lifted the handkerchief from his mouth. It was soaked through. He wasn’t moving anymore, his body limp from the strain of fever and convulsion.
“Thank you, J-J-Jack. I kn-know you’ll do it.”
---------------------------------------------
“You’re not dying on me yet, kid.”
A lighter clicked. Pungent, acidic cigarette smoke penetrated and burned Raiden’s nostrils, tearing up his insides. He nearly vomited.
“Moron,” the gravelly voice he knew so well, pickled by age and tobacco, grumbled. “You can’t die so long as I’m around. You’re gonna live to see the future, Raiden. A better future, just like I taught you.”
Raiden’s eyes widened, his gaze rolling toward the figure in front of him. Old and gray wrinkles stretched taught over thick bones. Silver hair darkened and lengthened to the ideal chestnut brown. Snake chewed on the cigarette between his lips, the smoke furling toward the ceiling like the pipe of a smokestack. There was a nasty snarl on his face.
“There ain’t no better future, idiot. You’re the one who let it go, kid, just like a light. No one’s fault but your own.” Inhale. Puff. Exhale. “That’s just tough shit. You’re gonna have to live with it until the day that you die -- alone.”
Snake’s skin loosened, withered, dried. Within seconds the man was nothing but weathered skin and bone. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, the body collapsed. There, on the floor, the pile of Snake crumbled and disintegrated into nothing. The lit cigarette lay on top.
Raiden fell heavily to the floor with a sick crash, his clawed hand reaching desperately to scoop the pile of dust up before it blew away.
CRUNCH
A loafer’d foot stepped mercilessly on the outstretched hand. Otacon swept up the pile of dust with an annoyed sigh, humming an aggravating little tune as he trampled all over Raiden’s back:
Rock The Dragon - Dragonball Z
“This’ll get into all of my models,” tsk’d Otacon incredulously when he finished his musical interlude. “Didn’t Snake remember to mind the Mk. II???”
Raiden didn’t have the strength left in him to protest. His head flopped onto the floor.
”Will you get the kid something to eat? Must be hell to live with her cooking every day,” the familiar gravelly voice ordered, the volume fading with the scene around him.
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“I have to go.”
Her slender fingers stroked his hair lovingly, sweeping the bangs out of his weary, aching eyes.
“Whatever happens,” Naomi solemnly swore, “you must trust me, Raiden. Snake needs you now more than he ever did before. He can’t do this by himself.”
She checked the wires in his back. He lulled into a half-sleep, the humming of the equipment soothed his pain. The sweet application of lips on his forehead jolted him from his rest, and his eyes snapped open again to stare at Naomi firmly.
Snake was gone. He knew that much.
“He’ll return, Raiden. He’ll return and you will live,” Naomi confirmed. He wanted to believe her sharp brown eyes. Instead, he looked away.
“Live,” she implored. “Live and protect Snake. That is your fate.”
---------------------------------------------
*The cold wind stirs Raiden to wakefulness. He glances at the Dreamberry screen with a flat, sad expression and gently removes/sets his visor aside. His heeled feet wander away from the video screen to check something on the far end of the courthouse roof in silence...*
A slender hand stroked Raiden’s cold, clammy brow and traced a winding path down the side of his sticky cheek, past the firm casing of his throat and over the jagged, cracked plastic of his chest. Her fingers slowed to a stop over a wound, unsteadily tracing its depth and width. Soft, smooth fabric soaked up the blood like a thirsty sponge.
He was hearing, seeing, breathing the world through a murky saltwater tank. The shape above him was little more than a blurred silhouette on bright white light. His eyelids fluttered.
“Stop talking. You must breathe.”
---------------------------------------------
“You c-c-c-can’t die, Jack.” A soft, padding sound. Footsteps. “She t-told me talking to you helps. C-c-can you hear me?”
Something tiny and tender touched his hand. The numbness hadn’t taken over. A jerky loll of his head, a squint of his twitching eyelids. There was a new silhouette this time, small, light. It was a little waif of a creature in the dimmed cabin lights.
Sunny… Madnar…. He saved my life… I’m not finished…
“S-s-s-s-STOP it, Jack! N-n-naomi told you not to t-talk.”
Let me go, Sunny. I shouldn’t be back here. Otacon… He is your family now…
“Y-Y-you’re making a mess, Jack.” A whimper. The soft cloth of a handkerchief pressed firmly against his mouth, holding the blood in. The breath wouldn’t come. “You can’t die. You s-s-still need to try my eggs! You have to promise, Jack.”
I have to … protect Snake… I’ve failed once before… Let me go, Sunny…
“You have to be the one to tell her, Jack. When you’re b-better. I c-c-cooked them right.”
Snake… Did he find… Big M--
She lifted the handkerchief from his mouth. It was soaked through. He wasn’t moving anymore, his body limp from the strain of fever and convulsion.
“Thank you, J-J-Jack. I kn-know you’ll do it.”
---------------------------------------------
“You’re not dying on me yet, kid.”
A lighter clicked. Pungent, acidic cigarette smoke penetrated and burned Raiden’s nostrils, tearing up his insides. He nearly vomited.
“Moron,” the gravelly voice he knew so well, pickled by age and tobacco, grumbled. “You can’t die so long as I’m around. You’re gonna live to see the future, Raiden. A better future, just like I taught you.”
Raiden’s eyes widened, his gaze rolling toward the figure in front of him. Old and gray wrinkles stretched taught over thick bones. Silver hair darkened and lengthened to the ideal chestnut brown. Snake chewed on the cigarette between his lips, the smoke furling toward the ceiling like the pipe of a smokestack. There was a nasty snarl on his face.
“There ain’t no better future, idiot. You’re the one who let it go, kid, just like a light. No one’s fault but your own.” Inhale. Puff. Exhale. “That’s just tough shit. You’re gonna have to live with it until the day that you die -- alone.”
Snake’s skin loosened, withered, dried. Within seconds the man was nothing but weathered skin and bone. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, the body collapsed. There, on the floor, the pile of Snake crumbled and disintegrated into nothing. The lit cigarette lay on top.
Raiden fell heavily to the floor with a sick crash, his clawed hand reaching desperately to scoop the pile of dust up before it blew away.
CRUNCH
A loafer’d foot stepped mercilessly on the outstretched hand. Otacon swept up the pile of dust with an annoyed sigh, humming an aggravating little tune as he trampled all over Raiden’s back:
Rock The Dragon - Dragonball Z
“This’ll get into all of my models,” tsk’d Otacon incredulously when he finished his musical interlude. “Didn’t Snake remember to mind the Mk. II???”
Raiden didn’t have the strength left in him to protest. His head flopped onto the floor.
”Will you get the kid something to eat? Must be hell to live with her cooking every day,” the familiar gravelly voice ordered, the volume fading with the scene around him.
---------------------------------------------
“I have to go.”
Her slender fingers stroked his hair lovingly, sweeping the bangs out of his weary, aching eyes.
“Whatever happens,” Naomi solemnly swore, “you must trust me, Raiden. Snake needs you now more than he ever did before. He can’t do this by himself.”
She checked the wires in his back. He lulled into a half-sleep, the humming of the equipment soothed his pain. The sweet application of lips on his forehead jolted him from his rest, and his eyes snapped open again to stare at Naomi firmly.
Snake was gone. He knew that much.
“He’ll return, Raiden. He’ll return and you will live,” Naomi confirmed. He wanted to believe her sharp brown eyes. Instead, he looked away.
“Live,” she implored. “Live and protect Snake. That is your fate.”
---------------------------------------------
*The cold wind stirs Raiden to wakefulness. He glances at the Dreamberry screen with a flat, sad expression and gently removes/sets his visor aside. His heeled feet wander away from the video screen to check something on the far end of the courthouse roof in silence...*