Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Interludes – Scene 1

Author’s note: Interludes is a companion piece to Taking Care of Reno (Remastered). It’s basically a collection of random scenes that are referenced at various points in the series, but either didn’t fit in with the flow of the chapter, or were only briefly mentioned as off-hand backstory information.  These will be short, and serve to fill in some inconsequential blanks in the main series. They will not be in any particular order, but I will note where in the series they occur, and provide reference text where applicable.

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Scene notes: This takes place about three to four months prior to the first chapter of Taking Care of Reno, as referenced in Chapter 13: Up in Smoke:

“How the hell could he not have picked up on the timing? Rude couldn’t have cared less about Reno’s smoking until just a few weeks after ‘Lena had been promoted. Which was just a few months after his dad’s funeral – a funeral at which Rude had been a bit of a wreck and had leaned heavily on his friend for support for days afterward. He groaned, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.”

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Rude barely even glanced up when the first knock sounded. The second pulled his irritated gaze away from the bottle in front of him for a moment. The third knock, he pointedly ignored and downed the shot he’d just poured himself. With a soft click, the lock snapped open, and the door swung inward.

“It’s way too early for that shit, partner,” a familiar voice chided him from the doorway a moment later.

“… You’re the one always saying it’s never too early.” Rude poured another glass. Reno sighed and crossed the room, plucking it out of his hand.

“Never too early for a beer, pal… not the hard stuff,” he replied, swallowing the liquor himself with a grimace, and setting the glass on the counter that separated Rude’s kitchen from the living room. He glanced at the nearly empty bottle… and the other two next to it on the table. “How long you been at it, anyway?”

“…”

“Ah, don’t give me that silent bullshit,” he said, snatching at the bottle. Rude pulled it away just ahead of Reno’s attempt.

“What do you want, Reno?” he said, glaring.

“What do I want? I wanna make sure you’re okay,” the redhead replied, “It’s five o’clock in the fuckin’ morning. Why the hell else would I be up this early on a goddamn Saturday?”

“… I’m fine.”

“Yeah… I can tell,” Reno retorted, “Didja even go to bed last night? ‘Cause ya look like you’ve been up for days.”

“…”

“Rude, talk to me, man…” he said, almost pleadingly, “You’ve been gone half the week. You’re not takin’ calls. You don’t answer the door… I’m worried about you. Tseng’s worried about you, too.”

“Told you… I’m fine,” the bald Turk, said, his patience wearing thin, “Now will you just go?”

“No,” Reno replied. He folded his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the counter. “Look, I know you’re takin’ this hard, but I’m not gonna let ya –”

“Let me what?!” Rude growled, suddenly rounding on his fellow Turk. He stood, staggering under the influence of a night of heavy drinking and caught himself on the table. “Let me drink? Let me be alone for a few goddamn days? Let me deal with my father’s death the way I want to deal with it?” Reno’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the sight of his normally stoic friend so visibly angry.

“Rude… take it easy…” he said, hands up in front of him in a placating gesture. Rude’s fist clenched around the neck of the bottle. “I just wanna help…”

Reno instinctively ducked as the bottle came flying at him, shattering against the wall inches from where his head had been. He honestly wasn’t sure if the man had missed because he wasn’t really aiming for him or because he was currently three sheets to the wind.

“Leave,” he said, the threat not exactly subtle in his tone.

“No,” Reno said again, firmly, staring him down. Rude advanced on him, grabbing Reno by the collar, and flinging him as hard as he could in the general direction of the door. The smaller man gave an alarmed cry as he suddenly found himself careening into the wall, slamming into several framed photos. He hit hard, crumpling to the floor to the sound of shattering glass.

Rude stood there for a moment, panting softly, waiting for the redhead to get up so he could yell at him to get out one more time. When Reno remained motionless, however, Rude’s breath caught in his throat.

“… Reno?” he tried. The man neither answered, nor moved. He simply lay there, in a heap, on the floor. Rude’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he stumbled towards him. “Reno?”

He hesitantly rolled the redhead onto his back, and panic set in. There was blood.

“No…” he whispered. A steady stream of red oozed from a gash just past his hairline. Rude’s chest constricted painfully as the full realization of what he’d just done hit him. Not Reno. Anyone but him…

“… No… Reno, please… I’m sorry…”

Fear was surprisingly sobering. With some small effort, Rude lifted his friend off the floor, cradling him carefully as he carried him over to the couch. He took a dish towel from the kitchen, and pressed it against the wound, staunching the bleeding. Rude swallowed sharply, studying his friend’s face for any sign of him waking. Eventually, Reno groaned softly, and stirred.

“Ow,” the redhead said, blandly. Moments later, his eyes fluttered open.

“Reno… I…”

“I’m still not leavin’…” he said, cutting Rude off as he sat up, and wincing at his newly acquired headache.

“I’m sorry…” Rude said, taking a seat next to him.

“Tch… not the first time someone’s thrown me across the room. Probably won’t be the last…” Reno said, shrugging dismissively. Rude looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze. “You’re mourning, and I’m a pain in the ass… let’s just leave it at that.”

“…” Rude suddenly seized him, clutching him tightly to his chest. “You’re not a pain in the ass.”

~fin~