Metal Gear Solid: Elements of Destruction

Title: Metal Gear Solid: Elements of Destruction- Chapter 7: Training

Author: The Ice
Goddess (FrozenBlueIce)

Fandom: Metal Gear Solid

Feedback: All feedback is welcome, whether it be
negative or positive. I’m trying to improve
on my writing so, please be honest: frozenblueice@yahoo.com

Pairing: The main pairing of this story is
Snake/Otacon, which is obvious to anyone who knows of my fondness for Hal
Emmerich, so therefore alright to disclose.
There are others, but if I told you what they were, it’d ruin the story.

Series: No.
There may be sequels in the future, but right now that is looking
unlikely due to time constraints.

Rating: PG (this chapter only)

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in previous Metal
Gear Solid video games are the property of Konami Computer Entertainment of
Japan, and of their creator, Mr. Hideo Kojima.
All new characters are the property of The Ice Goddess. This is a work of fanfiction, and in no way,
shape, or form will I receive any monetary compensation for it. It is for entertainment purposes only.

Type: Action/Shounen-ai

Summary: This story takes place one year after the
events of “The Big Shell.” New
information found by Otacon sends Snake back into action. (That’s all I’m revealing!)

 

Chapter 7: Training

 

“Come
on. It isn’t going to bite you,” Snake
said, holding out his M9 to Otacon.
“It’ll be loaded with tranquilizer rounds. You won’t have to kill anyone.”

Hal’s
hands trembled as he eyed the gun. He
hated guns and always left their handling to Snake. Even if it was only to pick them up off of the floor, he could
never bring himself to touch one.

“I don’t
know, Snake,” he said nervously, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

The mercenary
smiled. “Good. You’ve finally come to your senses.”

“No. I don’t mean about the mission,” Otacon told
him, “I mean, about…that.” He pointed
to at the M9, hands still shaking.

Dave let
out a heavy sigh. So, his friend was
still stubborn on the subject of going along.
The one glimmer of hope that Hal would chicken out, had faded quickly
into the dark.

ook,ook,
Otacon. You said you’d do whatever it
takes,” Snake reminded him. “You’re
going to need to learn how to defend yourself.”

The
flighty scientist’s shaking calmed a bit.
Snake was right. He had promised
him that he’d do whatever was necessary to prepare for the mission. If he was going to do this for his friend,
he was going to have to gather some courage.

He
timidly held out his hand, and Snake gently placed the M9 in it. The shiny, black metal felt cool and smooth,
and surprisingly lightweight. Otacon
stared at it with increased curiosity.

“Now,”
Snake said, positioning himself behind his student, “hold it firmly, with both
hands, like this.” He positioned his
hands over Hal’s, pulling his body in close against the engineer’s back.

Otacon
found himself blushing at the close contact with his friend.

The
trained soldier manually adjusted Otacon’s stance, spreading his legs apart. “Keep your feet apart a bit. You’ll get a better shot off that way.” With his arms reston Hon Hal’s shoulders,
Snake helped him aim the gun.

Otacon
felt a wave of heat run up his spine and across his face. He began to sweat, making it difficult to
grip the gun with his clammy palms. He
felt a hand push on his hips.

“Hips
should be straight but relaxed,” Dave instructed.

Hal
relaxed his body, the best he could. He
found himself subconsciously pressing himself harder into Snake’s body. His friend’s presence empowerem wim with the
strength to look down the sight of the barrel.

“Now
squeeze the trigger gently to activate the laser sight.”

Otacon
did as he was told. He swallowed down a
lump of nerves that had quickly built up in his throat, as the little red dot
appeared on the head of the target in front of him.

“Alright,
Hal, shoot!” Dave ordered.

The man
hesitated, finding a lot of things distracting him: the realization that he was holding a gun, the thought of firing,
the heat of Snake’s breath at his neck.
His trembling intensified.

“Damn it,
Hal, I said shoot!” Snake ordered him.

The
engineer fired the M9, releasing the dart.
It hit the shoulder of the target, far off from the head in which he had
meant to hit.

The
mercenary released his grip on his friend.
He shook his head. “You can’t
hesitate like that. You’ll get yourself
killed.”

“I’m
sorry. I panicked,” Otacon replied.

“One
moment of panic on the battlefield is enough to mean the difference between
life and death. Why don’t we just
forget the whole thing, and leave this to me and Raiden?” Snake said.

Otacon
looked down at the ground and adjusted his glasses. “Please Snake. I want to
help. Help me help you.”

Dave let
out a sigh, then conceded. “Alright.”

He
positioned himself again behind his friend, helping him to aim the gun. He made a few last adjustments to Hal’s
stance, then gripped around his partner’s hands tight.

“Shoot!”
the soldier ordered.

Otacon
squeezed the trigger on commandd thd this time, hit a lot closer to the mark.

“Better,”
Snake said, “but you need to watch the recoil.
You keep letting your aim get thrown off.”

Otacon
felt the warmth of his partner leave his back.
He turned to face him. “Thanks,”
Hal said handing the gun over.

“Eh, give
it some time,” Dave told him, putting an arm around the other’s shoulder,
“It’ll come to you when you least expect it.”
He tousled the tidy man’s hair.

“Hey!”
Hal said, laughing a bit. He tugged
Snake’s bandana hard, causing Snake’s head to throw back.

“Oh, ya
wanna play rough now?” the mercenary taunted.

Otacon
began to run through the endless halls of the VR program. “Gotta catch me first.”

Snake
began the chase. Otacon was pretty
fast, but Dave’s body was much more athletic, and he soon caught up to
him. He grabbed the slender, almost
weightless man by the waist and threw him over his shoulder.

The
engineer, draped over his friend, tried to free himself from Solid Snake’s
grasp, but only ended up being dropped to the floor. He rubbed his now bruised rear.

The two
men laughed, then ended the VR program.
It was nice to see Otacon in good spirits again.

***

“What’re
you working on?” Snake asked, grabbing a handful of Doritos, and shoving them
into his mouth.

There
were all sorts of materials and electronics laid out neatly in piles around the
worktable in Otacon’s room. He was
sitting, hunched over a large assembled heap in the center.

The
scientist paused, lng ung up from what he was doing. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see
you come in.”

He held
up his unfinished work. “It’s a new
sneaking suit.”

Laying it
down, he rolled his chair over to his computer. Punching some keys, he brought up the desired file. “These are the schematics,” Hal said,
gesturing for Snake to have a look.

The
mercenary came over and leaned in, looking at the screen over Hal’s
shoulder. He crunched on a few more
chips as he read.

Otacon reached into the bag in
Snake’s hand, taking a few Doritos for himself. “This suit is more advanced than your previous suits. It’s designed to thoroughly insulate the
body, while generating heat to ensure that nothing freezes.” He pointed to a small circular spot on the
back of the suit. “This is the
thermostat. It constantly monitors the
body temperature of its wearer while calculating the minimum amount of heat
needed to maintain 37 degrees Celsius.
It’s quite energy efficient.”
Hal pushed his glasses up his nose, then brought up another page of
schematics. “If for some reason the
heater ceases to function properly, I installed a fallback measure. These are the adrenal gland
stimulators. They stimulate the flow of
adrenaline to a level just short of dangerous.
If you have too much adrenaline in your bloodstream, it could cause
cardiac arrest. The purpose of the
adrenaline is to speed up your heart.
It’s hard to freeze a flowing river, so if your blood moves faster,
it’ll be harder to freeze as well.”

“That m sen sense,” Snake said,
forcing another handful of Doritos into his mouth. “How’s the suit affect mobility?”

“Well, it’s like your other sneaking
suits. It hugs your body tight so as to
minimize bleeding and damage to your vital organs,” the scientist
explained. “I guess that the major
difference between this suit and the others is this over-layer.” He pointed to the darker section of the
torso. “This is extra protection, as
well as a bullet proof vest. It’ll hold
up to an average handgun, but it won’t do you any good against an AK or
FA-MAS. It also provides extra heat,
pressure, and support to your chest and groin.”

Hal reached up for some more chips,
but Snake retracted the bag. “Get your
own!” He teased, offering the bag back to him.

Otacon grabbed a few chips and ate
them one by one, careful to make sure not to get too much of the orange cheese
powder on his fingers.

“So I guess I’m almost finished
making your suit, since I already have your measurements. After you test it out, then I’ll work out
the bugs and begin construction on Raiden’s and my suits.”

Snake gave Hal a wry smile.

“What? What is it?” the engineer inquired, knowing that look.

“I was just thinking about how odd
it’ll be to see you out of your lab coat, and into a sneaking suit. It’s just so… weird.”

Otacon let out a small chuckle,
“Yeah, I know. But, I’ll be right there
with you guys, so I’ll need to keep warm too.”

“Did you fix the stealth camo yet?”
Snake asked.

Hal shook his head, “No. Not yet.
I need to go get some parts. The
power unit’s been totally fried.”

Snake looked over his friend. He still looked tired, and the fact that
Otacon was rubbing his temples more than confirmed that. The pale scientist sat in his chair, seeming
ready to fall asleep at any moment. But
Snake knew that he was at least going to finish the suit that he had already
started on before finally going to bed.
Dave knew that convincing him to go to sleep now would be a tiring
effort, so he decided to offer some assistance instead.

“Is there anything that I can do for
ya?” he asked.

“No. Thanks. I’m
alright.” Hal politely declined.

Snake almost forgot the fact that
his accommodating friend would never outright ask anything of him. So, the mercenary would have to think of
something to do for Otacon himself.

“I’ll go brew up some coffee,” he
said, patting Hal’s shoulder.

“Oh, thank you,” his friend replied,
rolling his chair back over to the table.
He indeed intended to get that suit finished, and coffee sounded really
good right about now.

***

After two pots of coffee, and the
rest of Snake’s bag of Doritos, Otacon laid his tools down and held up the
finished suit in triumph. “I did it!”
he shouted excitedly. He called for his
friend, “Snake! Come check it out.”

The mercenary came into Hal’s room
with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
He took a few draws from it before reaching back to lay it down in an
ashtray that was on the end table just outside of the doorway. He glanced over the suit thoughtfully.

“Well, what’cha think?” Otacon
prompted.

“Hmm…” Snake said, looking it over
one more time, “It’s a little bulkier than I’m used to, but I like it.”

“Try it on,” the engineer said
eagerly, handing his partner the sneaking suit.

“I thought we were gonna save the
testing for tomorrow,” he returned.
“You need your sleep.”

“I know,” Otacon said, shifting his
specs once again, “but I’m just too anxious to see how it works.”

Snake could see the almost
child-like eagerness in Hal Emmerich’s hazel eyes. It shined brightly through even the lenses of his glasses. Those glasses that the man always hid behind
could not hid any bit of the pride that he was feeling right then.

“Alright,” Snake agreed, lifting his
black t-shirt up over his head. He
slipped if off, letting it hit the floor.
He moved to untie the drawstrings in his gray-black sweatpants.

Otacon found himself staring at
Snake’s hard, chiseled chest. He
blushed feverously, turning his head before Dave could catch him looking. “Oh, d-do you have to do that h-here?” Hal
stammered.

Snake threw his friend a questioning
look. “Huh? Oh I’ll pick them up. I
know you like to keep your room neat,” he said misinterpreting Otacon’s
embarrassment.

Hal allowed himself one more glance
at his partner. His pants were now
tossed aside, and he was standing there naked, trying to figure out how to put
on the sneaking suit.

Otacon’s eyes looked over Snake
admiringly as his cheeks shifted to a darker shade of crimson.

“Well,” the mercenary said, “don’t
just sit there. Help me with this!”

He mumbled to himself as he searched the suit. His friend really constructed it well: the seams were invisible, and the suit
itself was streamlined. But where the
Hell was the damned opening?

The scientist cleared his mind by shaking his head and
walked over to where Dave stood. He
took the sneaking suit from his hands and removed the over-layer, setting it
aside. Unfastening the main part of the
suit, he handed it back to Snake.

“This goes on first,” Hal explained.

Snake placed his legs in the leg holes, and pulled the
suit up his rippled body. The tight fit
of the under-layer didn’t leave much to the imagination about how well built
Solid Snake really was. His body lines
were deep and smooth, giving him a perfect shape.

Otacon helped his friend fasten the suit up in the
back. It came clear up his neck, almost
choking him. It took a moment for Snake
to adjust to the pressure.

Next, Hal placed the over-layer on Dave. It was shaped like fencer’s armor, except it
had raised pads on the shoulders.
Kneeling before Snake, Otacon fastened it securely over his groin, and
between his legs.

Snake grabbed the elbow and knee guards, and slipped them
on. The padding was thick and rather
sturdy on his joints. He tested their
weight by bending his limbs a few times.
Dave then slipped on the boots.
They were heavily insulated, and they hugged his feet comfortably.

“Well?” Snake asked.
“How do I look?”

Hal eyed his friend thoughtfully. He looked powerful, but the scientist
thought that would sound stupid. He had
to think of something else to describe his friend’s indescribable appearance.

“You look…like the Legend,” he answered.

Suddenly remembering something, Otacon went over to the
table, picking up a headpiece. It
resembled somewhat like a ski mask, except there was a perforated piece of
material over where the mouth would be, and a hard, clear shield to protect the
eyes. “I almost forgot. Here’s your headgear,” Hal said.

Snake slipped it on over his head, pulling it down over
his face. He turned to face himself in
the mirror on the back of Otacon’s door.
Dave looked at his reflection, chuckling to himself.

“It’s great,” he told his friend. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you before,
but you’re truly a genius.”

Hal blushed again, nervously scratching the back of his
head. “Yeah… You have… Thanks,” he said
simply, not able to accept his friend’s praise well. A man like Snake had nothing to praise a person like him for, he
thought.

Solid Snake held up his index finger. “Wait a minute. It’s missing something.”

He went into the living room, and when he returned, Dave
was tying his bandana around his head.
“There. Now it’s complete.”

Otacon nodded in agreement. “I’ll go fire up the VR.
I wrote a new sub-zero climate survival program. It accurately simulates the sensation of the
temperatures around you, and calculates those effects on your movement and
performance.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Snake said.

“Alright,” the engineer said, collecting a mass of wires
and electrodes, “it’s ready to go.”

Grabbing his Socom, Snake stood in front of the line of
tall, cabinet-type computers. Otacon
attached the sensors in the proper spots along his partner’s forehead, temples,
chest, spine, and legs.

When everything was in place, Snake found himself on an
outdoor battlefield. The snowdrifts and
glaciers were so accurately simulated, that he felt as if he was there
already. The air smelled cool and fresh
as it would on a winter’s night.
“Otacon didn’t miss a single detail,” he thought, admiring the
engineering genius of his friend.

Solid Snake’s senses were alerted to the sound of
crunching snow nearby. He quickly
ducked down behind the nearest snowdrift and peered out. There, in the distance, were three soldiers
patrolling the area. They carried AKs,
and marched in a tight formation.

He drew his gun and crawled along the ground on his belly,
slithering like his codename implied.
The mercenary got up on his knees, pressing his back against a slightly
taller snowdrift. He moved to its edge,
listening and waiting.

Before the soldiers even had time to scream, Dave had
already disposed of them with a quick jump shot to each of their heads.

“You ‘warmed up’ now, Snake?” came Otacon’s voice in his
ear.

Hidden behind his mask, he smiled. “Is that supposed to be a pun?”

Hal chuckled, “Of course!
You know me.”

The two men laughed.

“So what’s next?” Snake asked loading a new clip, and
cocking the gun.

“How about something a little more challenging?” Otacon
asked, bringing up the next part of the program.

“You’re on!”