Three Sentence Ficathon

It's 2002 and Eli wonders when he'll stop feeling like a test subject under his eyes.

Those same cold eyes that looked down on him as he was getting thrown around like a ragdoll back on Mother Base, those same cold eyes that lured him into thinking the mission to Iraq would help him, those same cold eyes that saved him from that prison camp - each time he saw those eyes staring into his own he felt trapped, a lab rat for Ocelot to toy with, just another freak gene experiment.

"It's not to the day, but it's as close as we're gonna get, Boss. Happy birthday."

Eli doesn't know what to think as he glances over the card, sprawled with a curt well meaning message, and he really doesn't know what to think when Ocelot's gloved hand pats his shoulder a little too hard, making his slack body tilt from the force.