damned_institute | DAY 23: BREAKFAST

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DAY 23: BREAKFAST

That hadn't felt like an entire night.

And his goddamn head hurt. Pounded, even. Enough that he wondered if he was going to end up playing another round of "Christen the nurse" this morning.

Maybe it was because he'd spent so much time and energy trying to find Nowe. That could be the reason behind both those problems. Just the thought of it made his stomach turn, made him want to fucking choke something.

Still, there was shit to do. He forced himself out of bed to put away his pens and the other leftovers from the adventures that didn't happen last night. He'd have to try to talk to Sora today, to see if they could just do tonight what they were going to do last night... and to see if the kid was doing alright.

...he just wished his head would stop hurting. That was probably the result of just how badly he'd overreached himself the previous morning.

The nurse that showed up to get him was cheerful. He grunted at her, listening to her with only half an ear until she mentioned all the excitement, about someone pretending to be a patient, all that crap that Landel had mentioned.

Renji gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Dr. Landel is a goddamn lying coward, and he's lying about that, too," he said. Whether it was true or not, there was only so much good cheer he could take on a shitty morning. "I hope he chokes on a cock." No matter how much venom he put in that statement, it wasn't enough.

Then he had to listen to a lecture about language and gratitude for the rest of the walk to the cafeteria, so maybe it wasn't worth it after all. She dragged him through the breakfast line, and he ended up with granola and toast and tea and a cinnamon roll, because not even a shitty fucking night could ruin his sweet tooth. Though that thing was looking a little too sweet.

The cafeteria was pretty much empty; he had his run of the place. He sat himself about as far from the doors as he could get, and proceeded to stare at his breakfast.

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Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't shifted too far in the Nightshift Reset, instead waking up in the same bed he'd been sitting on at the time. That did away with all the sense of disorientation, the sense of a job half-done.

Maybe it was Jack of Hearts being on his side. And Otacon didn't seem to recognise him as anything other than the obvious, which eased his sense of postmoderist fourth-wall paranoia, evidenced by the entry in his journal he barely remembered scrawling.

Maybe it was this plan. A sabotage mission - he'd done enough of those in the past, with high enough levels of success. Admittedly it was a vague one, but he had the whole day to scout for details. And he'd done worse on less information. Admittedly it would be nice to have a little voice in his ear with an internet connection giving him directions, but he could do without.

Maybe it was simply because his eye felt better, and already some of the blacker scabbing was gone, revealing raw, satisfyingly pink scar tissue. He was healing fast in this world, and he could think of a lot of ways in which he could use that.

The situation didn't entirely make sense, but he was in a damn good mood, and it was better than his usual state of cynical misery, he thought, smirking at his own self-deprication. His life was still horror itself, and it would be for as long as this place was still anything more than a smoking pile of rubble, but for now he was happy to let the rose-tinted glasses do their work.

A thought he'd had earlier that week in the Music Room returned to him, briefly. Any other day he would have ignored it, but today, feeling like this, why not?

He set his tray down in front of the cafeteria worker and grinned at her.

"I stare..." he began, meaningfully, "at the skies..."

The cafeteria worker blinked back at him sallowly.

"...and the stars up above..."

The cafeteria worker sighed heavily.

"You've got your roll," she delivered eavenly. "What else do you want from me?"

He nodded and scooped up the tray.

"And think..."

He moved down the corridor, scanning side-to-side for any signs of made-up story life he'd seen over the years.

"...what am I...maaaade - "

He broke off suddenly, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Ah. So that was why he never sang any more.

Sobering up slightly, he noticed Fox on a table, resting his head in his hands. Was his head bandaged?

Suddenly his mood didn't feel so good any more.

"Fox," he said, quietly, moving in beside him.

Fox almost lifted his head to look at Snake, wanting to see the familiar face, before he remembered that he wouldn't be seeing Solid Snake if he looked up.

Instead after shifting he let his head sink further into his hands, digging his fingers into his scalp and suddenly wishing he'd thought to take the bandanna off. But... Big Boss... alive and young and with both eyes, while Snake was next to him now old and tired and missing an eye.

"Snake..." Fox had no idea where to begin, there was a lot that he needed to say... perhaps he shouldn't mention Big Boss immediately. "I'm losing it," He wasn't just losing himself, he was losing everything, and everyone. They were being systematically taken away from him, piece by piece, and taking little chunks out of his mind with them as they went.

"This place... they're taking everything away. I... last night, I nearly lost myself again, and yesterday..." He looked up finally, forced himself to look up and stare at Snake, at that single eye.

No, he wouldn't talk about yesterday, there was enough to talk about without mentioning Big Boss. Big Boss already had enough of a presence, between the Bandanna Fox wore, and Snake's slowly growing resemblance, they didn't need to mention him. Fox wasn't sure he could handle it, the wound that Big Boss had reopened was deep and painful, and Fox didn't want to admit that.

"The other night, when I kissed you... I knew it was you, Snake. And I meant what I said. Loyalty isn't a weakness." Fox wanted dearly to pull Snake closer, wanted some kind of physical contact, but as usual his self-restraint and pride kept him from reaching out, from getting closer.

Snake fell silent for a few seconds before shoving his tray away with a clatter.

"Fox," he said, a little desperately.

Even as physically close as they were, the distance felt like it yawned between them, and it ached - Snake responded by grabbing Fox's shoulders, and working the ends of his fingers into the muscle.

"I think you're going to need to tell me exactly what happened," he said, sternly, but softly.

When the hands reached his shoulders and started massaging the muscles, Fox couldn't take it anymore. A soft noise of bitter amusement and pain escaped him.

"Big Boss did the same thing yesterday... reached out and massaged my shoulders. They took it away from him... the things that made him Big Boss, but he was still Big Boss." Fox reached out and grabbed Snake, pulling him into some warped cross between a grapple hold and a hug.

"He had both eyes, and he was young... but he didn't remember any of it... none of the battles we fought together. I couldn't handle it, they took him away. And now they're taking you away, turning you into him." There was something about this place that was changing Solid Snake, it seemed.

"Snake, he couldn't get out, but both of us were capable of defeating him, we both surpassed him, so we can get out of here if they don't drive us mad first... but I'm losing my mind in here, last night I nearly lost myself and attacked your room-mate and a pair of young civilians." He found himself holding Snake tighter than he'd anticipated, but he needed something to hold onto, and the way he was holding Snake, he didn't have to look at his face.

Otacon didn't think he'd ever get used to feeling like large parts of his memory were being torn away as the institute moved him back to his room with the rising of the sun. Nonetheless, he felt quite calm as he walked to breakfast. Nightshift had been rather low key, all things considered.

He peered at his fellow patients from behind his glasses, searching for the same sense of deja vu that had been following him all last night. He noted in particular how most of the patients were young, athletic and surprisingly attractive, as befitted heroes. Many had striking hair and eye colours like in anime, and the timbre of more than one voice brought up a flash of recognition.

However, once in the cafeteria proper, Otacon's gaze was immediately drawn to the unmissable figures of Snake and Fox, engaged in what seemed to be a personal moment. He slowly walked over, sure to let Snake see his approach first. If the two soldiers required privacy, Otacon would need only a glance from his friend to know it.

Snake remained silent for a very long time, allowing Fox to hold him.

His mind was still frozen at the accusation Fox had thrown at him. They're turning you into him. It was the single most offensive thing Fox had ever said to him, and he still wasn't able to fully take it in. It felt made-up, like he must have misinterpreted it somehow - but he knew he couldn't.

And worst of all, he knew it was true.

After Zanzibar Land, hadn't he began to feel like he should do something? Something about how people like him were used up and discarded? He'd deliberately hidden himself away from any opportunity to do what he felt like he had to do.

The steel. The controls. Metallic power coursing and grinding under him. The silence before the missile flew. He was a soldier. It was natural for him to be attracted to things more powerful than he was.

And here it was all the same.

He was becoming what his genes wanted him to be, and he resented himself passionately for barely even noticing. He wasn't like Big Boss. He was something else entirely. He was different.

Finally he spoke. "Big Boss was here? In this building?"

"Yes. He came to see me, gave me the bandanna." Fox didn't let go, even though he was aware Otacon was watching.

"Snake, what they did to Big Boss... I'm not going to let them do that to you. I won't let them turn you into Big Boss. They're not taking you away from me, too." He didn't mind so much that Otacon was watching this, and just held onto Snake a little tighter after his declaration that he didn't plan on letting Snake turn into Big Boss. His voice was soft as he spoke, and it was difficult to get the words out with the way his throat had been trying to close itself off.

"We were both able to defeat him, we both surpassed Big Boss, in battle, if not in other ways, as well." Fox found it difficult to say this, difficult to let go of Big Boss as the man who was always there to save him. It had been less painful when he was dead, before they brought him back. "We can beat this, we're stronger than this, Snake. You aren't your father, and you never will be, and they can't turn you into him."

Fox was beginning to realize that Snake really did need him. Perhaps for his sanity, if nothing else, to keep him from turning into Big Boss.

"It was during the visitor shift," Otacon clarified quietly in response to Snake's question, now close enough to hear their conversation. "And you heard what the intercom said."

He listened to the rest as unobtrusively as possible, which he felt wasn't very. But neither soldier seemed to mind his presence. Otacon watched Snake's face with concern as the possibility of Fox's words settled around them, sounding as strong as truth in Fox's low voice. While Otacon only knew Big Boss by reputation, he knew Snake better than anyone else. He might be down one eye, but he was still the same man.

"Fox is right." Otacon adjusted his glasses with a smile. "And whatever it is they're trying to do to us, we've faced much worse."

"I understand now," Snake said, still choking on his anger. He broke out of Fox's grip, and tilted his head to give him an intense stare.

"It's smoke and mirrors, Fox," he said. "This place might have crushed Big Boss and made him someone else, but I'm not about to let that happen to me. I'm not like that," he growled, not sure if he was talking to himself or Fox. "I'm better than that. You know there's no part of me that this place can crush."

With a quick, angry movement - half attack - he reached in and grabbed Fox's forearm, squeezing it hard in the hope that the pain would make his words mean something stronger.

"I'm real, Fox," he snarled. "You know who I am. I'm not who my genes want me to be, and I'm not who I was born to be. I'm no-one's Boss. And I will never - " he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip even further - "never become your Boss." His voice softened, along with his grip. "You don't want it, and I don't want it. There's no reason to become him."

Finally, he released Fox, and raised his head slightly.

"And even if there was, I could never become him," he said. "Think about the self. Our sense of self. It doesn't come from our genes, that's obvious enough. It can't come from our memories either, because they fade and die long before we do. Our bodies change. Our personalities change too. And names are just something to say when there's nothing else to talk about. So tell me. Where do you think the self is? I'm not romantic enough to believe in an immortal soul, and you're not either. I think it's fair to say the self is something too complicated for even a place like this to replicate. The self is yours, and yours alone."

He paused. "Fox. You're stronger than this. I know you are. You just need to prove it to yourself."

Fox met the intense stare with a focused gaze of his own, once again determined, and as strong and relentless as ever.

Snake's grip was strong, and almost cutting off the circulation in his arm, but Fox didn't complain or pull away, or even seem to notice much.

The way Snake was snarling at him, the aggression and anger that simmered there, just beneath the surface. So incredibly different from the emotional control Big Boss had, the same iron grip that Fox normally held on his emotions.

Finally he couldn't suppress it any more, and an aggressive, slightly playful smirk made it's way to his face. This was the Snake that he knew, the Snake that he fought alongside. The Snake that he loved.

"Snake."

There was really only one thing left to say in this situation, there could only be so many words given to a subject before they became redundant and useless.

"Fight me."

Otacon rolled his eyes. He'd taken a step forward at the sudden violence in Snake's voice, prepared to— well, he wasn't sure what, as he didn't expect Snake to cause any serious damage to his best friend and mentor. That Fox might suggest he do exactly this hadn't occurred to Otacon. He really didn't understand soldiers sometimes.

"I hope you two aren't planning to go at it here and now," he commented wryly. "A couple of the nurses look like they're ready to get in here with needles."

Snake paused for a moment, feeling his face creep into a smile. He almost laughed, but instead directed the feeling through his gaze.

"All right," he said, body surging with energy. "But only if you promise you'll still respect me in the morning."

He glanced around.

"Not here, though," he said. "We'll cause too much of a commotion. Want to name the time and the place?"

Fox could see the laughter that didn't quite make it out, but he could feel the energy in the air. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten about Otacon's presence, but he couldn't help make a comment on that.

"What? Of course not. I don't want all these people watching, I'm not THAT much of an exhibitionist."

He turned his attention back to Snake, grinning broadly at him when he mentioned still respecting him in the morning, and naming a time and place.

"Tonight I might need to meet up with the man who made a sword for me last night... that reminds me, Otacon, do you think you could make two-way radios out of the radios we have? It shouldn't take too long to meet up with him and get that taken care of, and we can meet in Snake's room after."

Otacon motioned for them all to take a proper seat at the table, if only to avert the staff's attention. "I'm still not sure about the technology level of this place, but the radios don't look complex." He nodded confidently. "It'd be a piece of cake if I could find something to use as tools."

He looked over someone's tray — Snake, he guessed — and picked up the cinnamon roll. Not a substitute for caffeine, but Otacon was adaptable. "You have a sword? How?" he asked Fox with interest.

"Sorry, Fox," Snake said. "Not tonight. I have other arrangements."

He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. "I've found a new ally. I thought it was just a coincidence who he sounded like, but I'm starting to think it was closer to destiny. He has a...a skill. He can create fire just by thinking about it. Tonight, he and I are going to burn the house down."

He pulled back. "So it'll have to be in the daytime. Is there anywhere in this place we can give the staff the slip?"

Fox listened quietly. "I don't think sabotage works here, last I night I demolished part of the plumbing system... and there hasn't been any sign of it having done anything." Fox stared at Snake for a moment.

"A lot of people here seem to have interesting skills, the man who made my sword can rearrange materials at a molecular, possibly an atomic level, and his powers will be weakened, and possibly weaken him when he uses them. That's what happened to the guy who made the sword... and his name is Edward, he's a Major in his world..." For some reason Snake talking about destiny made him uneasy, it sounded too familiar to other people who spoke about destiny, but he decided not to comment.

Fox grabbed his breakfast and started eating quietly before continuing. "At least wait for Otacon to make a two-way radio," He was speaking very softly now to avoid being overheard. "I found a tool-set, that way we can keep in touch. And there are strange monsters that effect the mind here, make you completely lose all motivation. The girl that got attacked by one last night didn't even care if she lived or died, didn't see the point in living anymore."

"And I won't fight you during the day, I'm not going to risk getting sedated." Fox did not want to be drugged again. Ever.

"The staff's always watching, even when you go outside to the courtyard or soccer field," Otacon agreed. "But there's definite holes in their security, if the radio man's messages are anything to go by."

Setting the half-eaten cinnamon bun back on the tray, Otacon took out his notebook and started jotting down quick notes on what Fox had said, and some of the events of last night. "It probably won't take long to set up radios if I have a proper tool-set to work with. Snake, you'll have plenty of time look around with Axel, and having a way to call back-up could come in handy."

He looked at Fox now, still considering the implications of the failed sabotage. "I also met a man with powers. I didn't specifically ask if he had them, but... I recognize him from a Japanese anime. And my first night here, there was a man who shot an energy attack from his hands, also common in anime. And there were three more people whom I know from— Wait." Otacon's eyes were wide behind his glasses. "'Edward'? Did he call himself an alchemist? Uh... very short guy, blond hair, in his teens...?"

"I don't like where this conversation is headed," Snake growled. This place was starting to make him wish he'd actually paid attention to those cartoons. The ones Otacon had let him watch, anyway. They'd had fights to start with, as Otacon had initially refused to let him watch anything he thought might remind him of his life. But Snake prided himself on his ability to separate reality from fantasy. It was one of the reasons he was so fed up of this place.

This place is the fourth wall itself, where stories go to die, he thought.

He searched in his mind for people he may have known, right back from when he'd first arrived -

- Lust.

Lust.

"Damn," he said, out loud, his mind finally making a connection that had been evading him.

He turned to face Otacon. "It wouldn't be too far a stretch if it was who you're thinking it is. I've already met someone else from that cartoon. Lust. The homunculus."

"If I recall correctly, when I first saw you, Otacon, you said I was like something out of one of your anime cartoons." He didn't like where that conversation was going, and Fox shook his head slightly, trying to get down as much of his breakfast as he could.

"Besides, none of that's particularly important right now," At least, not from his perspective. He didn't like the idea of their being cartoons about these people's lives, even if they were from other worlds, especially if they were from other worlds.

"Otacon, where's your room located?"

"M1. And don't pick up Snake's habit," he sighed as he noted Lust in his little list of FMA characters. "I keep telling him that they're more than simply cartoons, but he never listens."

Fox might dismiss these coincidences as unimportant, but Otacon couldn't shake off encounters with some of the heroes that had shaped his younger years. "Of course escape's the highest priority in this situation. On the other hand, I don't believe getting out is a simple matter of leaving these walls, especially if multi-dimensional travel's involved."

Not to mention the heavier implications: if nearly everyone Otacon had met so far had been "fictional," then who was to say that the three of them weren't anime characters in someone else's world?

He could drop the subject, however. "Should I meet up with you first thing tonight, Fox?"

"You're wrong, Otacon," Snake said, simply. "The highest priority is stopping this from ever happening again."

He swallowed. "I've seen the bulletin board. People from all walks of life. They want to go home, to their loved ones. And if we're right about the...postmodernism here, then they should go back. They were made to be heroes, and we should send them back so they can still be heroes. Not like me. I fell into it." But that wasn't true either. He'd been built up, an exaggerated image of his own father. And if what he was suspecting was true, then he might be the brainchild of some committee, a pastiche of an action movie hero.

He paused. "Otacon," he said, quietly. "Did they send you a visitor, too?"

"Escape is the wrong way to go about this, getting rid of this place is much more important." That was why Big Boss failed, he'd been trying to do the wrong thing.

"By the way, Snake, I found something you can use as a weapon if you want. It's a pipe, roughly three feet, maybe a little less. I'll leave it under the pillow in my room for you, I'm in M51 now. And, Otacon, I'll go meet up with you in M1."

"Okay. You guys are the experts," conceded Otacon solemnly as he finished up the lists in his notebook. He'd met his share of interesting people too: whether 'imaginary' or not, none (well, most) didn't deserve to be in a place like this, no more than Snake or Fox or himself did.

There were even ordinary high school students here, with no anime psychic powers as far as Otacon could see. The three of them, on the other hand, had the experience and skills to actually change things in this messed up place.

His pen paused at Snake's question. It had been only yesterday, but with the way time ebbed and flowed in this place... No, that wasn't an excuse. How could he have forgotten her?

The intercom clicked on, announcing the shift change. Otacon finished writing and got up, used to the routine by now. "E.E.," he told Snake, evenly. "They got my sister."

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DAY 23: BREAKFAST

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