text.

[camouflage]

Let's talk hypotheticals.

You're crossing a suspension bridge. You have to reach the other side at any cost. The bridge is wide enough only for one person to pass at a time.

A man approaches from the other side with a gun. How do you cross?

Comments

[camouflage]

It's your friend.

[unfortunately, john knows he can't really use the 'it's someone you care about' line due to the fact that ocelot just doesn't operate like that. he and adam are the first ones to make decisions that would cause other people to crumble under the pressure.]

You can't back down now that he's seen you. You both have your orders. One must live and one must die.

[shashka]

[ he could honestly say that it depends on which friend. if it were someone like Sergei, or even Venom, the answer would be blatantly clear. (Venom at least, would understand. Sergei... well, he'd be dead, so it isn't as though it'll matter to him.)

but if it were John...(and he knows what he's asking) ]

What do you think I'd do?

[ it's a hypothetical situation, but he knows exactly what the outcome would be.

in the end, he had far more of his father in him than his mother. ]

[camouflage]

That's not for me to decide.

[he's gonna make you struggle with this one.]

[shashka]

[ well, you asked... ]

It depends on the friend, I guess. In most cases, I'd shoot him in the head. Make it quick and painless.

[ for the second part... he's switching it over to private. notably he doesn't answer what he'd do if it was the friend who really mattered.]

Is there any reason why you're using The Sorrow's death as a scenario for the whole network to reply to?

[ one of them was expendable. ]

[camouflage]

[the text goes unanswered for the next hour







and then, privately:]

Am I like her?

[shashka]

[ so... that was how it was.

he can count on one hand the number of times the two of them had spoken about the Boss. he knew it was a topic that was painful for John, and Adam wasn't exactly leaping at the prospect of discussing a mother who he knew would be nothing but disappointed in him, and had found a far better son in his stead.

(not that it mattered in the end. everyone disappoints their parents)

there's also some time before he replies. ]

What brought this on?

[camouflage]

[well, guess what ocelot? be prepared to count one more finger, cause this is happening.]

I told you I corroborated the story of my death with David. What I didn't tell you is that he said I asked him to kill me.

Miller told me that when David was in Foxhound, he looked up to me. He was my student.

[shashka]

[ the extra news hits Ocelot as he feels a few more pieces of the puzzle slide into place. if his friend had asked for death, what did that mean for Adam's future actions. he'd always been there for John, but in the end, it hadn't been enough and he'd failed in the only way that had ever mattered. was that thought alone enough to drive him to insanity?

no. there's more to it than that. there has to be. he pushes those thought and aside as he he chooses his next words carefully. ]

You know that I didn't know her as well as you did. But, the way I see it, there's a passing resemblance, but no more than any other parent to child.

[ he was her real son. Adam had only really shared her DNA, and even in that, he seemed to take more after his father. though that had hardly been her choice, and sometimes he wonders what his life would've been if she'd raised him. ]

Besides, Miller has never even met the Boss. There's no way he can make a real comparison either.

[ that part probably angered him the most. after all, Miller involving himself in things he couldn't hope to understand has always been their biggest problem right from the beginning. ]

[camouflage]

You don't always have to be directly involved to be able to say the right words.

[in kaz's case, though, the right words had ripped a hole in john's perception of himself. it hadn't been meant maliciously, but honestly, if kaz were more like the one back home, john would have thought he meant to make the comparison hurt. the words had hit too close to home.

for most of his life, all he wanted was to be like her. to have her strength, her dedication, her unyielding will. he wanted the ability to be able to make his life mean something, like she had made hers. but in the end, all he had turned out to be was a warped version of her shadow.

the only similarity between them the fact that killing a person they loved had destroyed them.]

It doesn't matter. I've crossed my bridge.

[he won't make it across another.]

[shashka]

[ was that all they were? phantoms of another generation, doomed to play the same role over and over again? had that been why his father decided he'd been the one to die? had he realized that he was the more expendable of the two? was he unable to imagine a world without her?

in one regard, Adam was far different from the Sorrow. he would never allow someone he loved and admired to make that decision. ]

Just remember, you aren't alone in this.

[ for all the good that had ever done either of them. for all the good that would do either of them. the burden was always carried by the one who survived.

and for better or worse, it would be Adam. (unless something changed.)

his next message comes sometime after the last one. ]

You're a good man, John.

[ it was a lie. but it was one that he believed with all of his will. ]

[camouflage]

No I've never been

I've never made a good decision in

That's not

You're the only one I

Thanks, Adam.

[for such a short answer, the reply comes in a little late. he clearly didn't spent the last ten minutes struggling for an answer that wouldn't make the situation worse. he's already said too much.]

[shashka]

[ Adamska: proudly delivering quality alternative facts since 1964.]

Make sure you don't forget it.

[ for a man who knows how to win the trust of world leaders with a perfectly placed word, he's certainly having a difficult time finding anything that's adequate right now. (but that had always been the problem, hadn't it? for as much as he wished he could, he knew he couldn't give his friend the happiness he deserved).

but even so...

another message comes sometime later. ]

Will you be home tonight?

[ there was one thing that he might be able to do to help. ]

[camouflage]

I can be. Why?

[shashka]

Despite the best efforts of our 'comrades', many of my countrymen face lives of never-ending misery.

Do you know how they cope with their existence?

[ if talking wouldn't work, there's one thing that any Russian knows how to do. even the ones that commit treason against their country on a semi-regular basis ]

[camouflage]

[john actually knows this cultural reference. if only because it's pretty much the same anywhere.]

Are you suggesting we drink?

[shashka]

Maybe. There's a couple places on Kauto I've been meaning to look into.

If you think you can keep up with me, that is.

[ it's meant as a challenge. if nothing else, it would ensure he wasn't alone with his thoughts.

and it might be the first time he's ever had an advantage over his rival. he was a Russian with drug-resistance training after all. he's pretty sure that nothing could get him drunk at this point. ]

[camouflage]

[john tries to think about this like a good, rational adult. on one hand, it would be nice to focus on something else besides his total lack of self-worth and the inevitability that he will die unaccomplished and worthless. on the other hand, he'll be getting drunk with adam.

the spy. the spy with the drug resistance training. the spy who will catalogue his every movement and word without even meaning to.

fuck it.]

I've never backed down from a challenge.

[shashka]

[ for the first time in their whole conversation, a smile passes over his lips. if nothing else, it would be a distraction for the both of them for one night. and, for Ocelot, it might finally be a chance to beat Big Boss at something. ]

Thought you might say that. Drop Joy off at home and meet me in Kauto in an hour and a half. [ he says knowing John will probably be late, as he attaches the coordinates to a bar. ] I hope you're not a sore loser.

[ famous last words. ]