Title: Memories Faded
Pairings: Ocelot/Big boss
Rating: PG
Word Count: 839
Warnings: sad fic 8C
Summary: Ocelot finds a photo that evokes something much deeper than just a memory.

This takes place not long after Zanzibar.

I do not own Metal Gear or any of it's characters, this is a fan work.

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It has been five months. He thought to himself. It made no difference how long it had been. It wouldn't change the facts. It wouldn't make things better. He scowled softly to himself, time doesn't always heal everything.

Ocelot sat quietly by him self in the jet, headed to some new location, new assignment, and a new set of lies. He didn't quite know all the details of his next mission, or rather he didn't particularly care. He didn't realize until a young agent asked if he was alright that he hadn't turned the page of his book for quite some time. Lost in his own thoughts he shut the long forgotten novel and set it aside.

He picked up his brief case and opened it, thumbing nonchalantly through files on his next location. He set the papers aside to look for a pen, digging in the depths of one of the pockets he pulled out what he thought was another piece of stray paper. He pulled out the small "scrap" realizing it was a photo. It was worn, yellowed, and torn slightly in a corner. It had seen better days. He read the faded handwriting on the back, knowing what was on the other side before he even turned it.

His scowl faded, in the photo he saw a young blond man smile spread wide across his sharp features, his own much younger face. In the photo he his face was pressed against the cheek of a handsome war weathered soldier. The smile on his face was bright and genuine. He had his strong arms around the younger man's neck. He repeated the words on the back of the photo in his mind, written in the scrawl of the soldiers own hand.

'Remember times like this when we are apart.

With love,

Always.'

He felt his hand tremble.

"John…" He said softly to himself.

It had been five months. Five months since Big Boss died. No matter how many times he said it, it never made it any easier to believe. He ran his thumb over the young faces in the photo. His heart sank heavily in his chest.

He remembered when that photo was taken. John had been away for two months, the day he returned they spent the entire day together roaming the city enjoying the weather and each other's company. John had a camera he would take the eventual photo of something interesting, or teasingly take a picture of the blond when he wasn't paying attention. He got aggravated with John and snatched the camera. He remembered telling him he was wasting his time taking so many photos.

John smiled at the boy's aggravation and impatience. He cupped his face and kissed him gently. The first time he kissed him publicly. Their relationship was still somewhat new, the majority of it spent with them apart. Startled, Adamska reared back and accidentally ran into an older woman. He apologized profusely; she just laughed and said it was alright. She saw the camera in Adamska's hand and asked if they wanted her to take their picture together. John smiled widely and said of course.

He wrapped his arms gently around Adamska's neck, pressing his cheek against the boy's face, he whispered something sweet, long forgotten, that made Adam smile so widely.

He would give anything to remember what he said.

His hand shook as he stared at the memory from so long ago. Now his hands were worn and weathered, his face lined, and hair long since grayed. One thing that never changed was his feelings for that man. After all this time, until the moment he died, they cared for one another. One thing he wished he could have changed was the distance, they could never be close for long before they were separated, on what seemed like the outer edges of the world.

It crashed loudly in his mind with the idea of the perfect soldier, the most amazing human being he had ever met, and the only person he had ever been truly loyal too, was gone. Forever. He laughed half heartedly feeling his eyes sting and burn, surely his face had reddened and he was embarrassing himself. At that point he didn't care. He thought, at my age, I should handle this better, but he didn't know how to make it any better.

He tucked the photo in the breast pocket of his vest, looking out the window. He smiled sadly as memories of his time with John bled into his mind. Maybe this is what I deserve. He thought sadly to himself. He would move on with his plans, and do what he could for John, he would want that, he would want that for his sons.

He smiled sadly, "Maybe after all of this, we can be together again."

He choked on his quiet words. Holding back waves of emotion, breathing deeply. He had a long way to go before that would happen.

Remember Times like this when we are apart.

With love,

Always.

Always…