Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 12: Deeper Trouble

Reno punched his fist into one of the pillows on his bed, taking out his frustration on the bedding. Fucking Tseng and his fucking rules. It was twenty lousy minutes. It’s not like he’d gone out to the bars ’til two a.m. and come back drunk off his ass or got caught stealing food and had his ass thoroughly kicked by its rightful owners. He could see him getting pissed over something like that… but twenty Ifrit-forsaken minutes late ’cause Rude had to drive him across town?!

The redhead growled in frustration, and flopped onto the bed. This was complete bullshit. Twenty minutes late and now he was restricted to this apartment any time he wasn’t working for the rest of the damn week. It wasn’t fucking fair.

It’s not like he’d even really agreed to that stupid ass rule in the first place. Tseng had just informed him that he now had a ten o’clock curfew. For Shiva’s sake… down in the slums he’d still be working at ten.

In the back of his mind, he knew he was being a little irrational. There was a perfectly good reason his new mentor didn’t want him out late. But goddammit, he was pissed off right now, and the little voice in his head warning him not to do something stupid was presently being drowned out by the impossible to ignore need to prove to himself that Tseng wasn’t his fucking master.

That thought in mind, he wrenched open the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out the cash and smokes he’d brought with him from the slums, shoving them into a pocket, and crept over to one of the windows. Before he could talk himself out of it, he slid it open and slipped out into the night.

---

Tseng paused outside of Reno’s door, debating with himself as to whether or not he should try to have a slightly less antagonistic conversation with the young man before going to bed. Ultimately, though… he decided that they both needed a little time to cool off. He let the redhead be, and continued on, disappearing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

Perhaps he’d been just a bit harsh with the teenager. The infraction had been a minor one… as well as unintentional. He’d simply been having fun with a new friend and lost track of time. Hardly an unforgivable offense. And he had tried to make it back in a timely manner when he’d realized he was going to be late.

Tseng sighed and changed for bed. He’d reduce the rookie’s sentence to something more fitting of the crime first thing in the morning. For now, though, he’d let the redhead calm down and sleep. Tomorrow was his first day of training, after all.

---

Wandering at night made the Plate seem almost familiar, with everything bathed in the soft glow of mako-powered streetlights. Reno calmly lit a cigarette, and inhaled a deep lungful of smoke as he made his way across the park. He didn’t have any particular destination in mind… and he didn’t intend to stay out long. He just wanted to prove, if only to himself, that he was still his own person… no matter what Tseng might think.

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. If anything, Tseng had gifted him, in three short days, with a whole new life and the chance to escape the slow, withering torture of the slums. He could never repay him for that, and he certainly didn’t want to fuck things up.

At the same time, though, he didn’t want to feel caged. The slums may have been bad… but there was a certain freedom down below that he’d been unexpectedly stripped of up here. Under the Plate, no one gave a shit if he stayed up all night, or drank himself stupid, or fucked around with half the girls in the neighborhood. Having someone who did care was proving to be a little harder to get used to than he’d thought it would be.

He finished off his cigarette, and ground the butt beneath his boot. Maybe he’d overreacted a little.

Reno found that, by then, he’d traversed the entire park and come out on the next block over, and it occurred to him that he probably ought to head back before he ended up getting himself lost. The mako lights may have been familiar, but the terrain was decidedly not. One wrong turn and he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Before he could turn around, however, a sign glowing across the street caught his eye.

The redhead grinned, and hurried over. A quick side trip couldn’t hurt.

---

“Alright. In you go.”

Reno grumbled in annoyance as the officer escorting him gestured to the small cell in front of him. The redhead begrudgingly stepped inside, and the barred door shut behind him with a loud, metallic slam that caused him to flinch violently.

“You’re gonna be sorry when you find out who I am,” he said, trying his best to sound intimidating. He had a feeling the cop wasn’t buying it. Though… that was kind of was his own fault for heading out without his company ID. At sixteen… and still easily mistaken for someone younger… he should have known better than to expect anyone to actually believe him when he told them he was a Turk.

Particularly given that he’d been drinking at the time. Tseng had warned him that the bars topside weren’t as lenient as the ones in the slums… but the Wutaiian son of a bitch hadn’t said a damn thing about the liquor stores!

Though, in retrospect, that probably should have been obvious… In fact, now that he thought about it, he remembered Rude saying something about Sato being up for buying booze for a fee. Why would that be a thing if the rookie could just walk in and buy it himself?

He’d only wanted to stock up a little, seeing as how he couldn’t get into the bars and he didn’t want to have to keep leeching off of Rude any time he wanted a beer. He should have just turned his ass around and gone home… but no. He’d walked into the liquor store like he owned the place, grabbed a six pack, and cracked one open on the way to the counter.

Sometimes Reno really wondered if he was that stupid. And sometimes he was forced to conclude that yes. Yes, he was.

“Oh, really?” the officer replied, clearly not having heard the teenager’s inner monologue. “Something tells me, you’re the one who’s ‘gonna be sorry’… when I get ahold of your parents. Now… are you going to give me their number, or are we going to do this the hard way?”

Reno folded his arms over his chest and scowled. He couldn’t have given the asshole Tseng’s number if he’d wanted to. He’d left his phone back at the apartment alongside his ID.

“Suit yourself. Just means you’re going to be in there even longer while I run your prints,” the man said with a shrug, and turned on his heel, striding back down the hallway.

“H-hey! You can’t just fuckin’ leave me here! Don’t I get a damn phone call?!” he called after him. That’s what he’d always seen on TV, anyway. He’d sort of been counting on it, actually… He may not have known Tseng’s number off the top of his head, but Izzy’s was still scrawled faintly on his hand. He could probably talk her into coming to bail him out… or at least getting in touch with Rude for him. His fellow rookie would definitely come get him. He could be out of here and sneaking back through his bedroom window, and Tseng would never know. Hopefully…

“Soon as you’re sober,” the officer responded, not bothering to turn back.

“I’m not drunk, goddammit!” Reno retorted, but by then he’d already slipped through the door at the end of the hallway and back into the station. The redhead groaned, whatever bravado he may have still had quickly draining away. “Well, that’s just fuckin’ terrific…”

Tseng was gonna kill him when he found out about this. Legitimately kill him.

With a sigh, Reno took a seat on the uncomfortable little bench that was attached to the wall. No… Tseng wasn’t gonna kill him. He was just gonna boot him back to the Sector Two slums first chance he got. For Ifrit’s sake, the redhead hadn’t even been a Turk a full week yet, and he was already sitting in a fucking jail cell. The Turk lieutenant had even told him, explicitly, within hours of bringing him up, that if this happened he wasn’t going to be happy about it.

Reno had gotten the biggest break of his miserable, worthless little life, and he’d just fucked it up for some cheap booze. As the full weight of that reality settled on him, he felt his stomach turn. He didn’t want to go back. Sure… he didn’t have to stay in Sector Two… but the slums were the slums, no matter which of them he moved to. He hated it down below. Especially now, after seeing what he could have up here on the Plate.

The sixteen year old soon-to-be-ex-Turk pulled his legs up onto the bench and hugged his knees to his chest, burying his face against his arms. He was so fucking stupid! Tears of anger, fear, and frustration prickled at the corners of his eyes, and he willed them back. He was not going to cry over this. He’d found a way to live down below before… he could do it again. It wasn’t the end of the world.

… It was just the end of his dream to get out of there and never go back, that was all. Because he had no illusions that he was ever going to get a second chance at escape from that hellhole.

A moment later, a quiet sob finally escaped his lips.

---

Tseng was yanked unceremoniously from the edge of beautiful sleep by the insistent ringing of his PHS. The phone vibrated, clattering loudly against the tabletop, in between rings. He rolled over, and answered it instinctively. If he was receiving a call this late, it had to be important.

“Yes… ?” he answered, without looking at the caller ID. He’d expected it to be Veld, calling him with an emergency assignment. Instead, an unfamiliar voice answered.

“Is this Tseng Itsudake?”

“Speaking…” he responded, sitting up in bed and switching on the lamp on the nightstand.

“This is Sergeant Parkins with the Midgar Police Department. We have your ward, one Reno Donovan, in custody.”

The Turk was out of bed in an instant, and moving quickly down the hallway. He shoved the door to Reno’s room open, and found it empty, the window on the far wall open a crack. Before he could stop himself, he swore loudly in Wutaiian, and stormed back to his own room.

“Which station?” he snapped at the phone in his hand. At the same time, he was reaching for the clothes he’d only just changed out of.

“Substation F on 82nd,” the officer answered.

“I’ll be right there.”

Tseng stepped into the Sector One police substation less than ten minutes later, half expecting his new charge to be waiting defiantly at the door for him. Most likely in handcuffs. He approached the desk just inside, where an officer was seated, shuffling through a pile of paperwork.

“I was notified that my ward is in custody,” he stated, doing his best to keep the anger he felt out of his voice. After all, it wasn’t local law enforcement’s fault that his rookie had snuck out, he presumed, in retaliation for being punished. No… The blame for that lay squarely on Reno’s shoulders… and the little redhead was going to bear the full brunt of Tseng’s displeasure just as soon as they got home.

And to think, barely an hour ago, he’d come to the conclusion that he was being too harsh with the boy…

The officer looked up, setting the folders aside. “The redhead?”

“That would be him, I’m afraid,” the Turk replied. The man nodded and turned toward the squad room.

“Hey, Parkins! The kid’s guardian is here!”

An older police officer made his way to the front, holding out his hand in greeting. Tseng shook it, and followed him to his desk.

“How much trouble has he caused?” he asked. The officer chuckled slightly.

“To be honest… I wish all my arrests went so easy. He doesn’t seem like a bad kid. Little bit of a mouth on him, but… that’s pretty normal for a teenage boy.”

Tseng resisted the urge to sigh in relief. At least he wasn’t going to be dealing with assault charges, or something equally as problematic.

“What exactly did he do?”

“I picked him up at a liquor store on 78th street. He was attempting to purchase beer and thought he’d help himself to one on his way to the register. He’s being charged with underage drinking and disorderly conduct. The owner has declined to press additional charges for theft, as he had enough on him to pay for it.”

The Wutaiian Turk pinched the bridge of his nose roughly between his thumb and forefinger. Of all the idiotic things to do…

“… I see,” he said, flatly.

“Now that being the case… it’s a three hundred and fifty gil fine. He can appeal it if he wants to… but just so you know, I make it a special point to show up for underage drinking cases, and he’s on camera at the store where he was arrested.”

“Oh… he’ll pay the fine,” Tseng stated, with a note of finality. “Every last gil of it.”

That would be most of Reno’s first paycheck… which he would be receiving on Friday. Or, rather, not receiving, as the case may be, given that it was now already spent.

“So… I gotta ask. Kid tried claiming he was a Turk when I picked him up. Didn’t believe him, of course. He’s just a kid. Then I ran his prints and they come back as not only a Shinra employee but a ward of the company, and I got to wondering. Is he… really?”

Tseng smirked slightly. At least Reno would be learning a lesson tonight about carrying his credentials with him whether he was on duty or not. “He… will be. Assuming I can survive his training with my sanity in tact… May I have him back now?”

“Oh, right… of course. This way,” the officer replied, shaking his head… likely at the thought of having just arrested a Turk and lived to tell the tale. Tseng followed him into the cell block at the back of the station, and moments later found himself standing in front of a small cell containing one rather miserable-looking redhead. The Turk second in command folded his arms over his chest and stared him down.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

The rookie swallowed sharply and almost immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. Tseng rolled his eyes. The officer unlocked the cell, releasing him to his mentor’s custody.

“Let’s go, Reno,” Tseng said, sternly, and placed a hand between the teenager’s shoulder blades, guiding him down the hall.

---

The drive back to his apartment was short and spent in silence. Reno, for his part, barely even moved, save to fasten his seatbelt. Tseng parked out front and ushered the young man inside. When he gestured for him to take a seat on the couch, the redhead nervously complied.

“Unbelievable. You were already in trouble, not to mention grounded, and you decide to sneak out… and then you manage to get yourself arrested. I’m quite certain I warned you that there would be consequences if you did something foolish enough to force me to come and retrieve you from a prison cell…” he began, “And I believe I also warned you that the rules regarding the legal drinking age in the slums… or more specifically, the lack thereof… do not apply on the Plate.”

Reno seemed to shrink in on himself.

“I trust you’re prepared for those consequences?” the Turk lieutenant added.

“… Yes, sir,” his rookie said, remorse more than apparent in his voice. He dared a glance up at the older Turk, uncertainly. “C-can I at least stay the night?”

Tseng blinked in surprise at the request, not following the teenager’s train of thought.

“What in Leviathan’s name are you talking about?” he asked, confused. He shook his head and sighed. “Nevermind… You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. In addition to the remainder of the week, you’re now also restricted to the apartment this weekend. Which is just as well, given that you will have no money for any of the activities you may have been planning anyway. Your first paycheck will be going to pay your fine. And… solely because I’m extraordinarily annoyed with you and know how much you dislike getting up early… we’ll be getting up at five tomorrow morning for a run and some extra sparring sessions.”

He suddenly realized that Reno was looking up at him, thoroughly mystified.

“You’re… not gonna send me back?”

“Back where?”

“… Sector Two?” the young man ventured cautiously. Tseng blinked, shocked out of his anger almost entirely.

“Of course I’m not,” Tseng replied, his tone softening slightly, and the redhead’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Reno… one, admittedly irritating, but overall trivial infraction is hardly enough to warrant your dismissal.” He gently placed a finger under his chin and lifted head so that he was looking at him again, and was more than slightly concerned by the amount of uncertainty he saw in the teenager’s eyes. “… though perhaps I should have made that a bit more clear to you. You are not disposable, nor do I suffer from the delusion that you will never make a mistake. I will not be returning you to where I found you for the sin of inconveniencing me.”

The next thing Tseng knew, his rookie had launched himself at him, throwing his arms around him and hugging him tightly. The older Turk tensed at Reno being so suddenly attached to him, awkwardly patting the redhead’s back. It was right about then that Tseng realized, for the first time, that with a rookie as young as the one he’d chosen… he was going to have to be a bit more than just a mentor.

~end chapter 12~