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Stronger than Snowdrops	By : ktatters Category: +M through R > Metal Gear Views: 3255 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metal Gear, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Stronger the Snowdrops
- 1
Disclaimer to the disclaimer: Disclaimers do not stop corporations or authors from suing. Fanfiction is technically against copyright and a small statement saying you have no money will not stop that. They have a proven inefficacy in dealing with irate authors who feel their work has been stolen. I am philosophically opposed to disclaimers. Anyone stupid enough to think that it is mine or being used for profit is not smart enough to read.

"Why did we have to come out here again?" asked Otacon, his teeth chattering so much that the words were barely understandable as he clung to Snake's back with hands that had frozen a few kilometers back.
Snake glanced over his shoulder as the trembling scientist buried his head into the thin jacket on Snake's back. "We'll stop soon," he promised, his eyes turning back to scanning the desolate Arctic plane for a stopping point.
The anti-freezing peptides didn't last forever, after all. Otacon didn't have the benefit of feeling relatively warm while they were on this trek-- if Snake was only beginning to feel the effects of not having it, he couldn't imagine how cold the slighter man must be right now.
"We'll stop for a minute or two. If you put my jacket on top of your own, you'll probably feel warmer," said Snake, suppressing a shiver of his own.
Otacon shook his head. "What about you?" he asked.
"I'm used to the cold," said Snake, slowing the snowmobile. Otacon pulled away as they stopped and Snake pulled his jacket off with a grunt. "Here," he said, handing it back without looking at the other man.
"Thanks," said Otacon gratefully through his chattering teeth. "You don't have an extra pair of boots with you, do you?" he asked hopefully. Snake turned without getting up, eyes boring into Otacon's. Otacon smiled, shivered and pulled in on himself.
Snake nodded and looked back to the unending white before starting the machine up again. Otacon grabbed him again for stability, arms wrapping around Snake's torso as though he were afraid Snake would personally toss him off the back.
Snake shook his head and pushed the snowmobile faster. The gas gauge was dipping, and Snake's course hadn't managed to bring them anywhere interesting yet. What was worse-- the temperature had dipped enough that the snow was stopping.
Otacon shivered furiously behind him. They had to stop. There was no choice. If they didn't stop soon, Otacon was going to freeze to death behind him. The windchill alone had to be dropping the temperature by at least ten degrees.
"Keep your eyes out for any sign of a road," said Snake, breaking the silence. "We're going to have to stop." Snake heard a little grunt behind him that he assumed must be an affirmative, and his thoughts turned mildly contemplative again while his eyes continued to scan the desolate landscape.
It was his own fault, really. Snake had purposefully avoided the roads: knowing that his own government had decided to betray him, he couldn't leave himself open to attack. Or his new scientist friend either. He'd made an early decision that he was regretting now, with Otacon's nose turning white from the cold.
In fact, could it be-- Hal's hands were placed where they were to try to leach a bit of heat from Snake! God damn it, Hal, you could have told me you were that cold. Snake pulled one hand from the handlebars and rubbed Otacon's frozen fingers carefully. I should have noticed. He probably has a latent death wish now, knowing his toys were so destructive. He's a gentle guy, and he's seen so much death recently-- Sniper Wolf... Meryl--
Snake's throat tightened and he closed his eyes against the pain. Before he'd opened them again, he heard Otacon cry out-- Shit. They were in the air, the snowmobile tumbling over itself. Otacon's arms tightened further around Snake; his own went back and awkwardly circled Otacon as he pushed off of the vehicle.
They landed with a thump in the snow, the snowmobile crashing down with the awful sound of bending metal and shattering glass scant meters behind them.
Otacon rolled himself off into the snow before Snake made a move. Snake pulled himself up quickly and looked over at Otacon's frozen features. "I never thought I'd die like this," he said distantly.
Snake shook his head. "You had it planned out?" Otacon shook his head uncertainly, and Snake snorted. He thought it was time to give up? He really did want to get life over with. Who the hell thought they'd die from cold? Actually, maybe a man who'd come out to the middle of nowhere in Alaska to research giant walking nuclear weapons had considered it. Snake glanced at Otacon for a moment, watching him pull himself into a little ball in a vain effort to conserve body heat. He'd do better if he got up out of the wet snow. "Maybe you thought you'd be killed by your own creations, Dr. Frankenstein."
"You-- You-- how can you say that?" Otacon rose to his feet and glared up at Snake. "They used me! I didn't know what they were doing! You know that!"
"Uh-huh," said Snake, turning away from the other man. He rubbed his arms for a moment, trying to dispel the cold the was creeping in, then walked over to the wrecked machine to see what could be salvaged.
"I mean, comparing me to Frankenstein is unfair," said Otacon, following Snake. "Frankenstein was... He was trying to play God!"
"Uh-huh," responded Snake absently, picking up the last can of fuel. The snowmobile was wrecked beyond fixing, or at least, beyond his own meager attempts. Maybe Otacon could...
"I didn't work with lightning, or biology, or anything like that!"
"Right." Otacon angrily babbled something about some cartoon he'd seen with Frankenstein while Snake pulled a canister of gasoline away from the wreckage. If they were lucky, all the hot air would keep them both warm. "Otacon, do you think you could fix this?" he asked, cutting off the tirade about monsters made out of other people, which struck rather too close to home for Snake's comfort.
"Fix it? Are you kidding? My hands are frozen stiff! Besides, the bars are bent. Unless... can you unbend them?" he asked, awe coloring his voice again.
Snake rolled his eyes. "You watch too much television."
"I guess," said Otacon, pulling in on himself again.
"We need to get moving," said Snake decisively, gas can in hand. "I can see some tracks in the snow over there," he said, pointing vaguely to the north-east. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then paused before offering another to Hal. "It'll make you warmer."
"I didn't plan on dying of cancer either," scoffed the scientist, blowing on his hands and stamping his feet. Snake glanced at the other man's running shoes. Snow caked around his feet, climbing up the legs of his trousers, and stamping was only making it worse.
Nothing they could do about it right now, except for keeping Otacon as warm as possible so that his death wouldn't actually occur. "Walk in my footsteps," ordered Snake. "And conserve your energy." A little exercise would get Otacon's blood running around and stave off hypothermia for a little while. Or if not hypothermia, at least frostbite.
Snake started walking and listened for Otacon's quiet trudging behind him. When they got to the tracks, Snake frowned. There were far too many, and going in both directions. Otacon moved up beside him and stared. "We really are going to die, aren't we," he whispered. "If we don't die of cold, the government's going to kill us."
Snake glanced at the other man. "We aren't going to die," he said with irritation. "We didn't make it through Shadow Moses to die now."
Otacon nodded hesitantly. "Right," he said faintly, his face deathly pale. "It must be the cold talking." He licked his cracking lips. "So what are we going to do, Snake?"
Snake looked down at the tracks. The ones going vaguely westward, back towards Shadow Moses, were deeper than the others. These guys went somewhere and then they went back. "We go east," he declared. Snake and Otacon would just have to hope that this wasn't some sort of patrol line. Even if that was the case, there would probably be some sort of hut at the end of it with a radio and so on. Snake could just kill whoever was there and appropriate it for them. If anyone was even standing guard at this point.
Snake started walking. He heard Otacon stamp his feet again before following after him. Snake shook his head slightly as he walked. Otacon didn't have the survival skills of a lemming. If he'd had that needle full of peptides, Snake was pretty confident that Otacon would have managed to inject some sort of counter-agent.
The wind blew hard against them both, despite Snake's efforts to shield Otacon from the worst of it. He could hear the slightly gasping breaths from Otacon's exertions; if it weren't cold enough to freeze, Snake would have called for them to stop so that Otacon could take a break.
It wasn't too long after Otacon's steps started him stumbling against Snake that they spotted the cabin. And about time, too. It was wooden, but looked well kept up. The generator was off, but with the can of gas, they could probably start it again without much trouble. He looked behind him at Otacon: the way he was tilting from side to side, it looked as though Snake would be the only one starting anything. He looked almost ready to fall over.
It wasn't going to get better until they were inside somewhere so that the scientist could recover. "Come on," said Snake, picking up the pace. He could hear Otacon struggling behind him, but Snake didn't slow his pace. When they reached the cabin, Otacon was huffing and puffing, unable to speak while his breath whitened in the cold air.
"Stay here," said Snake quietly before he moved to the door. Otacon didn't answer but fell into a crouching position, trying to calm his breathing. Snake crouched and went to the door, carefully listening for any movement inside. It would hurt Otacon less to be outside in the cold than to jump in half-cocked and find a half-dozen mercenaries-- or US soldiers-- inside.
But there was no sound in the cabin. Snake carefully opened the door, keeping himself pressed against the wooden wall. When no one came to check on the opening door, he scooted out, gun at the ready. No one.
Snake stood. Otacon was still trying to catch his breath where Snake had left him. "Let's get inside," said Snake. Otacon looked up mutely, hands pressed to his chest, and nodded gratefully. When he didn't move after a moment, Snake extended a hand to him. The hand that took his was as cold as ice; in fact, there was snow on it. "You fell?" he asked.
Otacon's eyes closed for a moment. Snake sighed and pulled him up, then brought him into the room and sat him down on a chair. "Catch your breath. I'm going to see if I can start up the generator."
Otacon nodded again, his breath still hitching. He let out a wheezing cough. "I'll be okay..." he mumbled.
Snake personally had some doubts on that front, but he needed to get the generator up or Hal would certainly freeze to death. And with the cold starting to affect Snake himself, they'd both be dead if they stayed here without getting it started before nightfall. It was only going to get colder, and if Snake was any kind of judge, it was already cold enough to kill out there.
Snake closed the door carefully behind him and walked around to the side where the generator stood, by itself except for another snowmobile chained to it like some lost puppy. The puppy reminded him of Meryl suddenly; how it had come up to her, loved her. The last love she'd had in her short life... "Damn," he muttered, hitting the generator. Meryl should have been with them, not dead back in Shadow Moses. Would Roy be able to see his daughter for her funeral? Did he blame Snake?
But life went on. It had to. Even when you were condemned to die. Even when you were a man like Hal, giving up an old life, thinking you were running to something when you were really just running away.
Snake sighed slightly. Nothing could be done about the already dead. He just had to keep the currently-living from joining them. Snake started the generator as Otacon's yell came filtering out through the wooden walls. He rushed back in, gun in his hand like an old friend, to find Otacon with his back straight against the wall beside the other door.
"What is it?" Snake growled.
"He's dead," Otacon said, his teeth chattering through the two syllables.
Snake put the gun away. Dead people he could handle. "Sit back down, Hal," he said, then pushed open the door. He stared at the single bed, red with blood, before turning his eyes to the face in it. "Figures," he muttered.
Master Miller lay on the bed, bullets riddling him as though someone had overturned a bingo table and the chips had all landed on him. The blanket was a mess-- bloody and full of holes. Even if Snake could get Hal to use it, it wouldn't manage to get Hal warm enough to combat the cold. Frankly, Snake himself was starting to shiver uncontrollably himself. He wasn't one to complain about discomfort-- anyone with as much special services experience as he had wouldn't be-- but it certainly served to show what the civilian scientist must have been feeling. Snake was surprised Otacon hadn't said anything...
Shock, probably.
Snake went in and shouldered the body. Otacon cringed as Snake walked out with it, opened the door, and tossed the body into the snow.
"Goodbye, Master Miller," he said quietly, shutting the door.
"How can you just do that?" asked Hal.
Snake walked back into the bedroom with a glance at Hal, who slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He looked into the little closet. Most of the clothes were spattered with blood: Snake could have handled that, but he doubted Otacon would be able to wear a dead man's clothes when they were stained with said dead man's blood. A single coat, but warmer than the one Hal was wearing right now. Dryer too... If nothing else, they could use it as bedding. The bed itself was a total loss: blood had dyed it a red-brown color.
"Take off your clothes," he called out to the other room. Only one left with the destruction of Master Miller's, and it didn't look quite warm enough. They would just have to make do. Snake heard a mumble from the other room. He pulled down a blanket. "What was that?"
"I said," Otacon started brokenly, "that the crash must have knocked the sense out of you. I'm not taking anything off."
There they were again: the butterfly's sensibilities. At least a lemming would have taken directions. Snake shook his head and peeled off his clothes, including the gun belt, pausing only to take the USP. He wasn't going to go anywhere naked if he could help it. "Your clothes are wet," Snake said reasonably. "You're not going to get warm by letting icicles form all over your body."
Snake walked out of the bedroom. Hal stared at him. "My clothes were wet too," Snake muttered, then paused. Otacon's fingers were nearly white. His face was getting red from what Snake could only assume was frustration, and Snake determined another reason why Hal might be uncomfortable taking off his clothes. "It's... not wrong to ask for help if your fingers are too cold to undo things, Hal," said Snake, trying to be delicate.
"You... want to..." Hal's face got even redder.
Snake sighed. Obviously, Hal was embarrassed that he needed help. Well, Snake would have been, too. The soldier walked the few steps across the cold floor and put the jacket down before kneeling next to Otacon. "It's okay," he mumbled, then undid the buttons of the first jacket.
"No, it's not-- I..."
Snake forced his mouth into a smile that he felt certain didn't have quite the comforting look he wanted when Hal tried to push his hands away. "It's okay, Hal," he said again, trying to make his eyes look softer.
Otacon looked away from Snake's face in shame as Snake pulled the first jacket off. Snake threw it over into the corner of the shack. "I... um..." Snake started methodically undoing the buttons on Hal's own jacket. "I can do it myself," he protested weakly, looking back up into Snake's face.
Snake raised an eyebrow and pulled the second coat off. "Would be nice if we could hang these somewhere," he said, tugging at the shirt that seemed to have frozen to Otacon's chest.
"Yeah," said Otacon uncomfortably. "He must have been using something..." Snake yanked the shirt off. Otacon shivered in the slight breeze that came from removing the top.
"You didn't break your ankle, did you?" asked Snake casually as he examined Otacon's footwear. Sneakers weren't exactly the thing to go running about in the snow with.
"How much more does that hurt?" asked Otacon. "Actually, they both hurt about the same right now. From the cold."
Snake nodded. "Your shoes are a bit frozen. This might hurt," he said as a warning.
Otacon bit his lip. "I..." He closed his eyes and leaned back. "I trust you," he said, frightened anticipation showing clearly on his face.
No, you don't. No one sane trusts a killer. Snake shook his head a moment, then turned his attention back to the frozen shoes. He put his hands over one of the laces to loosen the ice before pulling it out carefully. Once that was done he pulled the tongue out and tried, as gently as he could, to pull it off of Otacon's foot. He did the same for the other, noting the scientist's tightening jaw on the injured one. "Don't hurt quite the same, huh?" he asked softly with a smile.
"No," said Otacon through clenched teeth.
"Just a little more." Snake pulled the socks off as carefully as he could. Otacon hissed when Snake pulled it off of the injured ankle and foot. "Not so bad, right?"
Otacon shrugged, his eyes traveling from the floor to Snake's face and back again.
"Come on then, let's get your pants off and we can get under the blanket."
"Ri-- what?" Otacon looked up at Snake's face again and went pale. His frozen hands went to his lower body as if to ward off Snake's intentions.
"They're no drier than the rest of you, Otacon," said Snake. "The knees are wet, the bottoms of the legs are wet... If you feel up to doing it yourself--" Otacon nodded his head furiously. "Hurry up, then, I'm getting cold."
Snake walked over to the small heater and touched it. There was a small amount of heat to it, though probably not enough to warm the entire room... Snake put the overlarge coat down on the floor and put the blanket on the heater. If they sat carefully, neither one of them would touch the frosty floor or walls, and they'd be right next to the heater.
"Happy?" asked Otacon. Snake turned. The other man still had his long johns on and was turned completely away from him.
Snake shook his head. "What, are you embarrassed? Come on, Hal. Those are wet too."
"Don't call me Hal, Dave." Otacon pulled his pants off, exposing an ass that was almost blue from the cold.
Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration.
He stared at Hal's bottom for a few moments more, then sighed. Otacon really was frozen. This was going to be really uncomfortable for a little while. "Come here," he said. Otacon shook his head and didn't turn around. "You really are embarrassed. This isn't high school gym, we're not going to compare sizes."
Otacon shook his head again, so Snake let out another breath, then approached the other man from behind and hooked the blanket around his shoulders. "Come on," he coaxed, pulling Otacon backwards. Otacon looked over his shoulder and allowed himself to retreat to the little nest of coat Snake had made for them. "Let's just sit down," said Snake, draping the blanket over the scientist's shoulders and sitting down on the coat, legs spread wide.
"But..." Hal turned around, blanket in front of him like a shield. Snake hid his grin when he saw what the other man was hiding. Snake certainly had no objections to that jutting out in front of him, except for the fact that it was probably making the rest of Hal even colder.
"Sit down, Otacon," he said.
Otacon finally did as he was told. He turned and sat on the edge of the coat. Snake rolled his eyes, reached forward, and pulled the other man back so that Hal's back rested on his chest. He winced at the cold body now lying against his naked torso, but pulled the blanket up and around them both. "Isn't that better?" he asked.
Hal nodded wordlessly.
Snake smiled and rubbed his hands up and down the scientist's chest to warm him. Hal's breath hitched in his throat. Snake kept his hands moving up and down as he closed his eyes. Hal was a good man. Not the man Snake had thought he was... Metal Gear was a toy to him. A child's dream, not something that could kill.
But it had killed.
Snake's hands stopped moving suddenly. Grey Fox under the Metal Gear... Meryl on top...
Hal's head had rolled back onto Snake's shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Grey Fox, squished to death by a machine... "Meryl," he said quietly. She'd been dead in an instant, less time than it had taken to fight his lunatic, fratricide of a brother...
Hal looked down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's my fault that you lost her."
Snake shook his head. "No... I gave in."
"She'd never have been there if... if I hadn't.."
Snake leaned back farther and consciously started his arms moving again. "Everything comes down to Metal Gear," he murmured.
"I'm so stupid," whispered Hal.
"No," said Snake, shaking himself. "We can't do this. We can't live in memories and regrets. We already discussed this: we have to live for the future, not the past."
Otacon sniffed and shrugged. "I have to take responsibility for what I did. I mean, living for the future is one thing, but you... you of all people should know you can't just forget the past," he said. He turned his thin neck to look Snake in the eyes. "You do know that, right?"
Snake nodded. Of course he did. "But that's no reason for you to take all the blame."
"And that's not a reason to take none." Hal shivered, and though Snake felt the intensity was driven in part by the cold, he could tell it wasn't the only reason. "If the wrong person got my work, I'd--" The scientist broke off and turned his eyes away quickly.
" No one's going to make another Metal Gear," said Snake dismissing the notion entirely. "They don't have you to be a good little pawn anymore."
"But--" The smaller man shook his head and pulled in on himself. "It doesn't matter."
Snake frowned. Where was the man who'd said the human spirit couldn't be destroyed? Where was the man who said let's live? Frozen in the wilderness? "I guess people don't change when it comes down to it," he muttered. "I thought you felt like a new man."
"I..." Hal looked back at Snake. "Maybe it's just hitting me now."
Snake shook his head. "Hal, I need you to be the man you were this morning."
Otacon looked away. "I wasn't afraid this morning," he said. "I said I wasn't going to regret the past. That I was going to stop being a spectator..." Hal trailed off and shivered again, obviously losing himself in his thoughts.
He'd sounded so confident when they'd left Shadow Moses. Snake had felt as though he'd found a kindred spirit-- they'd both just lost women they'd loved for a few brief hours, both found they'd been used as pawns by their superiors, both decided to live a new life. But if Otacon couldn't overcome his past, what hope was there for Snake, whose grief and pain was so much greater?
"You know," said the scientist tiredly, "you're right. We have to fight our natures sometimes. We... we need to remind ourselves that... that what we were isn't what we have to be." Hal turned again and looked at Snake, first at his mouth, then into his eyes. "I... We could remind each other," he said, hesitantly.
Snake smiled and looked at Otacon. "You're not scared anymore," he said quietly.
Otacon nodded. "And you," he said, just as quietly, even more hesitantly than before, "you're not a killer anymore."
Snake smiled slowly. Otacon bit his lip a moment, then put a hand on Snake's shoulder to pull himself up and deliver a kiss to Snake's cheek. "Your name is David," he said, color rising in his cheeks. He sat back down, obviously embarrassed. "Glad the heater's starting to work," he muttered.
Snake smiled genuinely. They'd both had a hard couple of days, and the attraction was definitely mutual. And now that he was sure that Hal's erection had been a genuine signal of his wishes and not just some physical release, Snake was going to act on it. "It hasn't," he said simply, then moved his hands to Hal's groin and caressed him. "But you know, there are other ways to stay warm," he offered.
Hal looked at him, shocked, his eyes wide and innocent. They searched Snake's face for a moment. Snake bit the inside of his lip. It was too soon, wasn't it... then Otacon's face relaxed into one that was less than experienced but more than innocent, and he laughed. Giggled giddily, really. "In this cold? You're going to regret that," he said. He turned too quickly though, and the blanket slid off of him, leaving him totally exposed.
Snake murmured appreciatively at the man's show of unmarked skin, then grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled them up so that it once again rested over Hal's overly cold, thin shoulders. "You still have to stay warm," he murmured, pulling Hal into an embrace. He winced again as the cold bare skin came in contact with his own warmer nudity.
Otacon's hands entwined themselves in Snake's hair as they kissed deeply. The scientist's tongue wrestled with the soldier's, wending it's way deep inside as though he thought to steal warmth for the rest of his body by so doing. Snake rubbed Otacon's shoulders, then his back, and finally his bottom, his warmth seeping into the other man via hard, emphatic caresses, his arms tightening around Otacon like some sun-warmed python about to feast.
And feast he did. On Otacon's mouth and lips, on his ears and neck. Otacon was no less hungry-- the kisses might have been less forceful from his end, but they seemed to cover every part of Snake: shoulders and fingers, eyes and chest. Snake pressed the smaller man to him carefully, so as not to hurt him, but with enough force to make Otacon gasp.
"I think I love you," said Otacon breathlessly.
Snake ate the words from Otacon's mouth, giving the scientist a "me too" in return.
The ravenous kissing and groping warmed them both, dispelling the cold that Snake had been feeling seeping into his skin for the past two hours. Warmer than the small heater had managed, the friction and the warmth of their mouths acting in defiance of the chilly air that threatened them.
Finally, Otacon pushed Snake down and busied himself under the blanket. His mouth descended on Snake as though they'd been lovers for years: every touch, every movement was exactly what Snake would have asked for. Every bob of his head was ecstasy, every new movement bringing renewed pleasure, each wave greater than the one before. Snake put his hands on the scientist's head, hoping he would continue his experimentation.
When he began to hum, it was too much. Snake exploded, fire running through him to dispel the last of the cold. Hal came up and kissed his mouth again. "You're very good," said Snake faintly around the sweet, soft, gentle kisses.
Otacon smiled, obviously quite pleased with himself.
Snake reached down and changed his expression from a satisfied smile to a half-lidded, lip-trembling expression of desire. He stroked Otacon slowly at first, then gradually increased his pace. Otacon's cold fingers, meanwhile, dug into Snake's back as his breathing grew harsher in time with Snake's manipulations.
Snake gazed into Otacon's eyes as the Metal Gear designer's pupils widened. "Oh, Snake," he whimpered. Snake caught Otacon's mouth into another smothering kiss and pulled his hands away suddenly. Otacon's eyes snapped open, searching Snake's face again, desperately. "Please, Snake, don't..."
Snake blew into Hal's ear. "Come for me," he whispered, then put his hands back on Otacon's hard member.
As though some trigger somewhere had been released, Hal let go. Snake devoured Otacon's mouth again as a warm river of snow hit him. He pulled Otacon as close as he could.
"I do love you," said Otacon with a soft smile, his eyes still dark with passion.
Snake nodded and pulled Otacon on top of him. "Stay off the floor, or you'll get cold again," he said, his words loud in the room. He moved his hand to the heater again. It was finally getting warm. "Looks like we're safe," he said, eyes blinking slowly.
Otacon smiled. "I'm glad, Dave." He gave Snake a lazy kiss which the soldier enjoyed quite a bit.
Snake nodded.
Love had bloomed like an icicle pansy on a battlefield, and died like some red rose in the snow. "You're not a flower," he murmured to Hal, who raised tired eyelids.
"Hm," said Hal. "That's okay." He drew a circle on Snake's chest. "Flowers are fragile. Maybe love doesn't bloom after all. Maybe it just grows."
Snake's eyelids were growing heavier. "Stronger every day," he whispered, and let his eyes fall closed.
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Stronger than Snowdrops