Taking Care of Reno: Advent Children
Chapter 3: The Nightmares
Everything hurt. His ribs ached from repeated kicks. His stomach was bruised and painful from several punches that had driven the air from his lungs each time. His head was throbbing, and his left thigh felt as though it had a hole through it… which, he somewhat belatedly remembered, it did.
He hesitated opening his eyes, wondering if the abuse would continue once his tormentors realized he was awake. Something warm and soft touched his cheek.
“It’s alright, sir… They’re not here right now.”
“Elena…” he said, groaning as he forced his eyes open. “Are you hurt?”
The woman shook her head. “Just my arm where I was shot, and my fingers. They… they left me alone. But the younger one… they called him Kadaj… he made me watch what they did to you. All of it.”
Tseng slowly pushed himself upright, and turned to her. The beating had been brutal… and he wished she hadn’t been forced to watch. He hadn’t the faintest idea how long it had gone on, but he very clearly at remembered the point at which he’d passed out. It had been right around when Loz had forced his fingers into the wound in his leg and ‘helpfully’ extracted the bullet that had still been lodged there.
“Elena, what this… Kadaj… said. Is it true?”
The young Turk unconsciously pressed a hand to her belly, and nodded.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I… I didn’t know. I mean… I suspected, but I hadn’t found out for sure. I was going to see Dr. Ward about it as soon as we got back. I haven’t even told Reno yet…” she replied, suddenly looking up at him, “Tseng… How could Kadaj have known?”
“I don’t know. But those three aren’t normal… That was clear from the moment they first appeared.”
And ‘appeared’ was an apt word for it. At the time, he’d been half convinced he was seeing things… The shooting had started and he’d briefly broken cover to assess their assailants. It was as if they were only just then forming from the mist that lingered inside the crater. Even when he and Elena had returned fire, it had gone through them as though they were nothing more than ghosts… though they were certainly solid enough now.
“They look like… him,” Elena said, shuddering.
“Yes… They do.”
“Another of Hojo’s experiments, you think?”
“Perhaps. Though we went through his research with a fine-toothed comb after the crisis for just that reason. Nothing like this was ever mentioned.”
Of course, Leviathan only knew how much had been lost in the destruction of Midgar. Or how much still remained, inaccessible, in the dangerously crumbling Shinra Building. There were large parts of the structure they had never been able to access afterward, for fear of losing anyone they sent in. Reeve Tuesti eventually planned to use his Cait Sith automaton to see what could be salvaged… but there were other priorities that needed his attention first. The man was instrumental in the continued construction of Edge.
“But where else could they have come from?” she asked. Tseng shook his head.
“I don’t know that, either. And right now, their origin doesn’t overly concern me. We can worry about it later. For the time being, we need to find a way out of here. I will not sit idly by while they use you and your child as a bargaining chip with Rufus.” He raised his head, looking her squarely in the eye. “If you see a chance to run, take it. Don’t wait for me.”
A key clicked in the lock and suddenly, the door swung inward as Kadaj and the gunman with long hair entered. He wore a smile that sent chills down even Tseng’s spine.
“Where’s Mother?” he asked, again. The Turk leader, simply glared at him, and Kadaj’s smile widened.
“Yazoo. Tell Loz his new toy is awake.”
Reno sat alone at the overlook, watching as the sun set. Elena loved to do that with him… and tonight it was especially pretty. He’d always considered it a stupidly romanticized activity himself… that is, until he’d spent a few evenings sitting on a blanket, with his wife curled up in his arms, peacefully enjoying the view. Though, truth be told, he usually spent more time gazing at her than at the horizon.
Even after almost two years of marriage, he still felt the same deep attraction to her he’d had from the beginning… much, he was fairly certain, to Rude’s dismay. The bald Turk had insisted that eventually, the newness of their relationship would wear off, and the two of them would settle down a bit. It hadn’t happened yet… and though his friend was mostly a good sport about it, he had made a point of switching rooms a week after they’d moved into Healin Lodge, with the explanation that the walls were much too thin for him to remain next door to the couple indefinitely. His occasional teasing complaints aside, though, Rude always seemed genuinely happy for them both.
Now though… the sunset was a poignant reminder that Elena was missing in action. Possibly… probably, he silently amended… in the hands of three Sephiroth look-alikes. Ifrit only knew what they were doing to her… and to Tseng. Returning home without them had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Harder, even, than pressing that button in Sector 7.
His actions that day still haunted him, and they probably always would. But having Elena in his life had allowed him to put that guilt aside most of the time and let him find small ways to atone for it.
“Reno?” Rude’s voice called to him, and the redhead glanced up, catching sight of him making his way along the path towards him. “Dinner…”
“Not hungry…” he said, shaking his head. How could he eat right now? Did Elena have anything to eat? Was she hurt? Was she frightened? He didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, and it was eating him alive. Rude’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he pulled the younger man into a tight hug.
“We’re going to find them,” he said, repeating his earlier declaration. “Come eat. You’re not going to be any good to anyone pretty soon if you don’t, and you know it.”
He’d already skipped out on lunch. Rude was right… missing dinner, too, wasn’t going to do Elena and Tseng any favors. He didn’t think clearly when he was hungry, and eventually, it would start to have physical effects on him as well. He needed to be able to function… even if food tasted like ash right now, as he suspected it would. Reno silently let his partner guide him back towards the Shinra residence and press him into a seat at the table. He glanced around at the empty chairs, and had to fight the feeling of defeat that gnawed at him.
“Where’s the President?” he asked, for lack of any other topic of discussion, and noted that Rude was frowning. Apparently, he’d expected Rufus to be there when they returned as well. A soft mechanical hum from out in the hallway was their answer. It grew louder, and shortly thereafter, a figure, draped in a heavy blanket rolled through the door. The hum emanated from a sleekly designed electric wheelchair. It took them both both a moment or two to realize who it was.
“Sir…” Rude breathed, obviously concerned. Rufus had told them that morning that his Geostigma was spreading… but there was no way it could be spreading that quickly.
He stopped at the head of the table, looking up at them from beneath the blanket, and Reno saw that his left eye was now bandaged, as was his neck.
“Fuck…”
“There’s no need for concern,” Rufus stated, as he reached for his napkin.
“Bullshit… What the hell, Rufus? When’d this happen?” Reno asked, rising from his seat and walking around the table to stand near the ill man. Rufus chuckled quietly.
“Shortly after you returned with the specimen and told me of the strangers you encountered.”
Reno looked back at Rude, who shrugged and shook his head, looking just as surprised as the redhead was. Rufus rolled his eyes… one of them, at least.
“It seems clear that they want Jenova’s remains. Thus it is in our best interest to see that they don’t locate them,” he stated. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Poached salmon with truffles and shrimp in cream sauce,” Rude stated, “What do those three have to do with… this?” He gestured to the President’s current appearance.
“That sounds delightful. And as Tseng has frequently told me… the best place to hide something is often in plain sight.”
Reno’s eyes narrowed, and his hand closed firmly around the edge of the blanket , yanking it aside. Rufus cradled the sealed canister, holding it in one arm against his side.
“You can’t be serious.”
“It is, I think, the last place anyone would look,” Rufus said, smirking.
“So… You’re fakin’ all this.”
“Entirely. My condition remains as it was this morning. Spreading, but confined to my arm for the time being. But no one but you and my personal physician are aware of that fact… now are they?”
“You’re takin’ a big risk,” Reno pointed out.
Rufus hastily tugged the blanket back over him, concealing his prize. “Something I have had to repeatedly ask the four of you to do. I think it’s about time I volunteered to bear some of that risk myself. And as I suspect the two of you will be very busy in the coming days, entrusting it to someone else would be a far greater risk,” he replied, “Now… Dinner, if you please. I, for one, am starving.”
The sobbing woke him from a restless sleep. Reno scrambled from his bed, fingers finding the electro-mag rod on the nightstand as he moved stealthily towards the door. He pushed it open on silent hinges, and crept down the darkened hallway. The sound was coming from the front room.
It was an anguished, heart-wrenching sound… one that he had long associated with the pain of loss. And a woman’s voice, almost certainly. He peered around the corner, and froze.
“‘Lena?!”
There was no answer from her. She was on the floor, sitting like an abandoned rag doll, and leaning over another figure… one that lay motionless before her. A dark puddle, black in the pale moonlight, was spreading out slowly beneath it. He approached hesitantly, fearing the worst, and felt his stomach lurch as he drew close enough to see the figure’s face.
“Tseng…” he breathed, “No…”
His mentor lay broken and lifeless, the injuries to his body readily apparent. Elena turned her head, slowly lifting her gaze to him, and Reno took a step back in alarm. The tears she cried were deep crimson, and the expression on her beautiful face was one of fury and agony.
“You left us…” she whispered, accusingly.
“NO!” Reno shouted, and suddenly found himself in bed, the sheets tangled around him, his skin damp with cold sweat. He quickly clawed his way free, tumbling to the floor. It felt as though the sheets were strangling him. As he clambered to his knees beside the bed, came the sickening realization that it wasn’t the bedclothes. He simply couldn’t breathe.
The redhead swore loudly… or as loudly as he could manage while hyperventilating, at any rate. Two goddamn years. He hadn’t found himself trapped in an Ifrit-forsaken panic attack in two goddamn years, and he didn’t fucking need one now. The realization that that was precisely what was happening calmed him slightly… at least enough that his vision stopped graying at the edges… and he staggered to his feet, making his way gracelessly to the door and down the hall.
Seeing the front room empty and devoid of any evidence of blood brought him another notch closer to control. It was a dream… nothing more. The Turk continued on to the front door, fumbling briefly with the lock before yanking it open and stepping out into the warm night air. He leaned heavily against the railing that surrounded the wooden walkway, forcing himself to take longer, deeper breaths. The fresh air helped, as did the open space. He stayed there for several minutes, just breathing and trying not to think.
He fucking hated this. While he hadn’t had a true panic attack in ages, there had been times when he’d come close. He’d quickly learned to manage the anxiety, however… recognizing it for what it was early on and clamping down on the physical response before it could overwhelm him. Ward had weened him off the medication for it over a year ago, and he’d been doing just fine… until tonight.
After awhile, the redhead took a steadying breath and pushed himself upright. It was over. He felt better… though perhaps a bit shaky, and the creeping sensation of being strangled still lingered. It would probably be hours before that went away entirely. He turned and walked back into the cabin, intent on going back to bed. Sleep would help him recover… and he was not going to relapse into the mess he was two years ago. Not when Elena needed him.
He found himself face to face with Rude.
“I’m alright,” Reno said, in answer to his partner’s unasked question. “Sorry I woke ya up.”
“I couldn’t sleep either,” Rude replied, shaking his head. He held up a blanket, stepping forward and wrapping it around his friend. It was only then that Reno remembered that he’d gone to bed nude, as was his wont, and hadn’t bothered to dress before seeking relief from his nightmare outside. “Come on. I was gonna make some hot chocolate.”
“Nana’s recipe?” the redhead queried, and the other man nodded. Reno followed him to the kitchen, and took a seat at the table, while Rude calmly began gathering what he needed.
“… Just this mornin’, I was tellin’ ‘Lena how the job’s nowhere near as dangerous as it used to be…” he said, for lack of any better way to avoid discussing the particulars of his late-night wanderings.
“You weren’t wrong,” Rude replied. “Rufus… isn’t is father. He cares what happens to us. But no matter what, we’re still Turks.”
“And shit happens,” the redhead sighed. He stared at the woodgrain of the tabletop in silence for a few moments, listening as his partner went about making the soothing beverage. Finally he looked up again. “Do you think they’re gonna be alright?”
“… Tseng has survived more than you and I put together. And Elena’s tough…” He grinned slightly. “She was trained by the best, after all. They’ll make it.”
“… You know what sucks about knowin’ you as long as I have, Rude?” Reno asked. Rude lifted the pot of hot chocolate off of the stove and poured them each a mug.
“Hmph… What’s that?” he replied, setting one in front of the sleepless redhead, and taking a seat next to him.
“No matter how cool you act, I can always tell when you’re just as scared as I am.”
~end chapter 3~
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