Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 22: Acceptance

Reno and Kai didn’t bother returning to the office. By the time they finished down below and made it topside, the work day was over. There was nothing to keep any of the others bound to headquarters tonight, so why bother? They would have been returning to dark, empty hallways. So when they reached the Plate-side station, they hopped the next train over to Sector 3. By that point, both of them just… wanted to go home.

Kai had come running to join them as soon as she’d realized something was wrong… and had taken over while Reno spent several very long minutes trying to compose himself. She’d tried to send him back to the office… but that would have meant accompanying Cissnei’s body. He’d been honest with her. He didn’t think he could handle it.

Rude had gone, instead. Kai and Reno, meanwhile, had continued on down below for hours, wrapping things up as best they could. By the time they’d left, the redhead felt numb.

The conversation had been sparse during the trip up. Neither seemed to know quite what to say. Kai had offered to walk him home from the station, but he’d turned her down. It was only a few blocks, he’d told her, and Lira would be there, waiting for him. He could manage.

And so it was that Reno found himself walking slowly towards his apartment as night descended on Midgar. Thunder rumbled in the distance and he cringed. That was just what they needed. More Ifrit-forsaken rain. He made his way down the block, and his apartment building soon came into view. In a few minutes, he’d be home. And Lira would ask him what was wrong. And he’d have to explain it all. Go through it all.

Relive it all.

He stopped abruptly, shaking slightly. Lira would take care of him… just like she always did. But she would want to know why he was in such a state. Reno swallowed roughly against that thought. She would ply him with tenderness and affection until he relaxed and she coaxed it all out of him. Gently and lovingly, of course… but it would come out, whether he wanted it to or not.

Almost of their own accord, his feet started to move. Not towards his apartment… but rather in pretty much the opposite direction. He didn’t know where he was going. He just knew that he couldn’t deal with that right now, no matter how well-intentioned it might have been. She wouldn’t wonder where he was, anyway. He’d been working such weird hours since the flooding had started… she’d just assume he was staying at the office again. That’s what he’d told her to assume if he didn’t come home. So she wouldn’t worry about him.

He walked. No idea what direction he was moving in… he just walked. He walked until the streets were dark and he’d lost all track of time. And when it started to rain, he kept walking.

Until he eventually came to a door.

---

Tseng had settled himself into his favorite armchair with a cup of tea and the newspaper… and his PHS. He had, of course, heard the news the moment he’d returned to the office, and had wanted nothing more than to call his currently-estranged protege… but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so. He was afraid that if he did, he’d only be rejected again. Still… the desire remained, and so he’d kept the device close at hand in the event he finally worked up the courage to do so. Or in case the younger Turk opted to call him.

The front page of the evening paper bore the breaking story of an unfortunate reporter whose brakes had failed at a highly inopportune moment earlier that day, sending her car off an overpass in Sector 7. She’d been killed instantly. A tragedy to be sure.

It made no mention of the black sports car that had abruptly cut her off, resulting in her losing control of her own vehicle and careening into the rail, of course… He’d been very careful to avoid the more crowded of Midgar’s roadways.

He knew it was callous… probably even heartless… of him, but a part of him was grateful for the routine nature of today’s assignment. It was a by the book assassination, with no extraneous casualties, and minimal damage to city property. Moreover, there was nothing to connect Shinra to it. It was a simple matter. He’d hardly even had to think about how to rig the car’s brakes or the perfect angle to veer into its path and force its driver to over-steer.

But it had been enough to take his mind off of other matters for a short time.

Now, though, he was home, on his own time… and he was sorely tempted to swap his usual tea for something a bit stronger tonight. That, however, was a habit he refused to indulge in. He’d flirted with self-medicating with alcohol after his sister’s death… and had quickly come to the conclusion that it was something that was entirely too easy for a person to lose control of. Since then, he’d made it a point to avoid drinking when he was upset at all costs.

Still… it was tempting.

Thankfully, before his thoughts could stray any further towards that particular vice, he was interrupted by a quiet knocking at his front door. Tseng glanced at his watch, and noted with some surprise that it was nearly eight. Not an absurdly late hour for a visitor, certainly… but unusual, nonetheless.

Particularly given that it was pouring out. Again. He hoped that this Leviathan-forsaken storm wouldn’t hinder recovery efforts down in Sectors 3 and 4 too badly. Luckily, the forecast predicted that it wouldn’t last long… just until midnight or so… and that the next couple of weeks looked clear and seasonally warm.

The Wutaiian Turk set his tea aside and got up, making his way to the door, peering somewhat suspiciously through the peephole. Upon spotting a familiar shock of red on the other side, he hurriedly wrenched it open.

“Reno?!”

He was drenched from head to toe, and shivering slightly. His protege slowly raised his head to look at him, eyes silently pleading with him. There was a look of heartbreak in those eyes… and Tseng didn’t have to guess where it had come from. He knew perfectly well, even though the redhead had hardly spoken to him for a week, that Reno had been holding onto the hope that Cissnei had somehow survived the flood. That hope had been thoroughly and utterly dashed just hours ago. And as he understood it, Reno had been the first of his Turks to see the body.

Tseng shook his head, and reached for him, taking hold of his arm and ushering him inside. He was met with no resistance and barely any response… until he shut the door behind him. Then, the redhead surged forward, throwing his arms around his mentor and burying his face against his shoulder. Tseng… simply let him. He ran hand along his spine, drawing a faint whimper from his protege.

“Come on. Let’s get you dry…” he said gently, and coaxed him toward the bathroom.

In quick order, the redhead was stripped, dried, and redressed in some of Tseng’s workout sweats – his own sodden clothes being banished to the laundry room – and then wrapped in a blanket for good measure. Tseng settled him on the couch in the living room, and for quite some time, the younger Turk refused to be separated from him. He didn’t speak at all, nor did he cry. He simply sat there, clinging to his mentor, and looking… defeated.

The only thing Tseng could do was hold him. After almost twenty minutes of silence, he began to worry that the redhead may have been in shock.

“Reno?” he prodded. The redhead shifted slightly, but didn’t otherwise respond. Tseng moved his hand to the back of the younger man’s neck, and massaged the pressure point gently. It wasn’t long before Reno relaxed against his side.

“… I’m sorry…” the young Turk said, so softly that his mentor was half-convinced he’d imagined it.

“You needn’t apologize,” Tseng replied, “I know you –”

He’d intended to say that he knew he was taking Cissnei’s death hard, and that he understood… but the redhead suddenly sat up, shaking his head.

“No… I do. ‘Cause I’ve been actin’ like a total asshole to you for savin’ my sorry ass,” he said, swallowing sharply and dropping his gaze to his lap, “… I threw a fuckin’ temper tantrum all ’cause you’re not a goddamn superhero who coulda saved us both…”

“I truly wish I could have done more,” the Wutaiian Turk said, regretfully. It was never any less painful losing a part of his family. Especially one as young as Cissnei. If he’d thought it would have made any difference, he gladly would have sacrificed himself in her place… but as it was, he’d barely managed to pull Reno back in time.

“… I know,” the younger Turk replied. “I was just… so close. I could almost reach her. I think that’s what hurts the most… knowin’ that if I’d just been faster or if we’d just had another… minute… she’d still be here.”

“You’re no more superhuman than I am, unfortunately. It’s a fact of life we simply have to accept and live with. Cissnei was not the first Turk to die in the line of duty… nor the first that I failed to save. Sadly, she will probably not be the last.”

“I know that, too,” Reno said, miserably. “It’s just… so much worse when it happens right in front of you.”

Tseng closed his eyes for a moment in sympathy.

“… Yes. Yes, it is,” he agreed. The younger man had little experience with that. In fact, in general, Reno had almost always arrived after the fact in the past. Only once prior to this had he seen a Turk die in front of him, and in that instance, his protege had been unfortunate enough to be the one tasked with pulling the trigger.

The redhead exhaled slowly and leaned back against the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya know… she’s only a month older than me. Hell, her birthday’s next week. Now instead of a party, we’re havin’ a funeral.”

“It’s not fair,” Tseng stated, “And it will never be fair. It simply is.”

“Yeah. Well… it sucks.”

“I know it does. And I’m afraid it’s something that you never become numb to.”

Reno wiped a hand across his eyes.

“Can… I stay here tonight?” he asked. “Lira’s stayin’ at my place ’til shit down in Wall Market gets less soggy, and… I’m really not up to explainin’ to her why I’m a such mess right now.”

Tseng gave his protege’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Of course you can.”

---

Rude sat quietly, staring at the television. He wasn’t even sure what he was watching at this point… not that it mattered. It was largely just background noise to his thoughts, anyway. It was getting late and he really should have been in bed by now, given that he had work in the morning… but he had a feeling that sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight.

Finding Cissnei’s body had been a shock, but one that he’d known would come sooner or later. He’d tried to prepare himself for that. What he hadn’t prepared for was the sense of finality that came with it. He hadn’t even realized that he was still holding out some small hope that they might find her alive… but he’d distinctly felt that hope ruthlessly crushed this afternoon.

The bald Turk pulled his gaze away from the screen and instead looked down at the sunglasses he’d set on the coffee table. Cissnei had given him that pair… just a day after his rescue from Wall Market, in fact. To make up for accidentally stepping on his old ones during the search, she’d said.

He sighed and leaned forward picking up the container of fish flakes and sprinkling a few into the bowl beside the sunglasses. Two little goldfish swam up to the top and made quick work of them.

They had been Cissnei’s, as well. She’d gotten them a couple of months ago, to keep her company in her apartment. They’d been left alone for almost a week after… after she’d been lost in the flood… before he’d remembered them and gone to check on them. Fortunately, they seemed none the worse for wear. He’d fed them, but wasn’t really sure what else to do with them… so they’d come home with him. He couldn’t just leave them there with no one to look after them.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed.

Why had he waited so long? Sure… maybe it wouldn’t have changed what happened, but if he’d just manned up and told her that he liked her a long time ago… maybe he wouldn’t have felt so empty inside now. So cheated. He didn’t know if it their date might have turned into something more, or not… but now he never would.

But more than just the loss of a potential relationship… he’d lost one of his two best friends. He and Reno and Cissnei had become something of a trio. Now they were one short.

Riding back up to the Plate with her body had been… bad. He’d kept it together long enough to see her to the morgue at Midgar General, but after that… he’d broken down. Reno’s words kept ringing in his ears the whole time.

“Don’t come any closer. Y-you don’t wanna see this…”

He wished he’d listened. A week at the mercy of a watery grave and the Slums’ local scavengers had left her almost unrecognizable, save to those who knew her better than anyone. He didn’t want that to be his last memory of her.

He wanted to remember her as the cheerful, funny, driven person she’d been from the first time they’d met. As one of the best the Turks had to offer. As a caring and empathetic friend… one he desperately wished he’d had more time with.

---

Cissnei’s funeral was held that Sunday. It was a beautiful spring morning, warm and bright and… had it been just about any other day, Rude would have been anxious to get outside and enjoy the weather after the long, cold winter and wet, dismal start to spring. The day itself seemed almost happy to exist, and the Turk couldn’t help but think it was oddly fitting.

It was almost hard to be subdued with so much bright cheeriness surrounding him. It was kind of the way he always felt around Cissnei. She’d been such an overwhelmingly happy and positive person it was difficult not to share in it sometimes.

The others seemed to feel it, as well. Sato, for one, looked almost giddy… but then, the Mideelian’s attitude towards funerals was sort of… unconventional… to begin with. After all, this was the guy who’d held a firework’s display at the end of his cousin’s memorial service, and proudly proclaimed that he wanted the same at his own funeral, along with strippers… and Rude was fairly certain he was serious about that.

Even Reno… who hadn’t been himself since it happened… seemed to have accepted that things were the way they were and there was nothing he could do about it. Rude had been a little surprised on Friday when he’d arrived at work with Tseng. He’d found out later that the two had had something of a heart to heart the previous evening, and the tension between then had very quickly evaporated. Rude, for one, was glad for that… because no matter what his friend might have said in anger – and given that they shared an office, he’d said plenty on that subject to him – he knew that, deep down, Reno had hated being angry at his mentor. Really, in Rude’s experience, Reno didn’t much enjoy being angry at anyone he cared about for any significant length of time… especially those he was closest to.

Kai had called it a “defense mechanism”… not that anyone had asked her opinion, but her habit of lingering in doorways and butting into conversations would not be denied. For once, Reno had rather sheepishly admitted that she was right. Anger had just been… easier… than dealing with the pain of losing a close friend and being unable to prevent it, and Tseng had had the misfortune of being a convenient target for it. To be fair, Rude could certainly understand that sort of reaction. After all… he’d personally decimated three heavy bags in the training hall after he’d heard what had happened. Reno, though, was usually a bit more prone to wearing his heart on his sleeve when something like this occurred. The redhead had even admitted to being more than a little confused – and embarrassed – by the way he’d behaved, in hindsight.

Today, he seemed to be sticking very close by his mentor. Rude wasn’t sure if he was unconsciously trying to make up for all but ignoring him for a week, or if he just desperately didn’t want to be left alone. In all likelihood, it was a combination of the two. If Rude had ever been asked, he would have said that Reno’s greatest fear in life was loneliness… because he knew firsthand how terrible it could be. He held on tight to their little family, and it was never more apparent than when they were in mourning.

And tomorrow, things would be back to business as usual.

Or at least, that’s what they would all tell themselves. It would never be quite the same. It never was after losing someone. There was always that empty spot in the office where someone should be. Aaron… Luca… Tres… Saya… Shay… even Rodney, in spite of his betrayal, held a spot on that roster. The list went back more years than Rude had even been a Turk, and continued to grow despite their best efforts to prevent it. Once again, they had a new name to add and a new empty spot to learn to live with.

---

Liam sat in the shade of a large tree some distance from the others. The funeral was over, but everyone seemed to be lingering. Talking. Reminiscing. He didn’t quite feel comfortable joining in. They’d all known Cissnei for so long. Even Sykes and Petra had known her for months before he’d even met her. He was still just the newbie. It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked Cissnei. He just… never really got the chance to know her the way they had. He felt as though he’d be intruding if he stuck around.

But… he didn’t want to just leave, either. Thus, his self-imposed banishment to the shade.

Without warning, someone sat down beside him with a soft thump. The rookie jumped slightly in fright, and looked over, somewhat wide-eyed, half expecting Tseng to have somehow snuck up on him again. He was, therefore, surprised to find Reno, rather than the Turks’ second in command, sitting beside him.

“Hey,” Reno said, leaning back against the tree, “What’s up?”

Liam owlishly blinked at the senior Turk, not entirely sure what to say.

“Ya know…” the redhead said, not waiting for an answer, “Back when I was a rookie, we lost someone. Aaron. Cool guy. Almost as good as Remy when it came to hand to hand.”

The rookie had no idea where he was going with this… but a response didn’t seem to be expected, so he kept silent.

“I don’t think I was on the job even a whole month yet. Plus, he was spendin’ a lot of time in Junon when I got recruited, so… I didn’t get to know him as well as I woulda liked. It was… weird. Ya know… bein’ at the funeral with everybody. And his family. Guy had a fuckin’ huge family. All those people who knew him better than I ever would…”

Liam glanced over at the small crowd. They were starting to disperse now, heading back to their cars.

“Cissnei didn’t have a family,” Reno continued, and the rookie distinctly heard his voice catch when he said it. “Just us. So we all counted in her eyes… even if ya didn’t know her long enough to really know her. Quit hangin’ out on your own ’cause ya think you shouldn’t be here. You’re one of us.”

The younger man swallowed roughly and looked down at his hands.

“How’d you know?”

“Tch… I just told ya, rookie. I’ve been there,” the redhead replied with a slightly sad smirk. “Now get off your ass ‘n come on. Everyone’s headin’ over to Veld’s place for awhile. You met his family yet?”

“Er… No, sir…” he replied, shaking his head.

“Hope ya like bein’ spoiled, then…” Reno said, climbing to his feet. He started towards the cemetery gates, where the rest of the team had, by then, migrated. “And knock it off with the ‘sir’ bullshit, will ya? We’re not on duty today.”

Liam scurried from his seat and trailed after the senior Turk. By the time they made it to the gates, most of the others had already reached their respective vehicles and were preparing to leave.

“Got a straggler, Boss…” Reno said, as they approached Tseng. He nodded to the black sports car parked at the side of the road “Still got room there?”

Sykes and Petra peered out of the back window at them. Apparently the Turk lieutenant was the designated shuttle service today.

“It may be a bit of a squeeze… but I think we can manage.”

Reno shook his head. “Eh… I’ll catch a ride with Rude. Liam can take my seat. See ya at Veld’s.”

Liam watched him as he hurried over to catch the other Turk before he left. Tseng ushered the rookie over to the passenger side door and he quickly climbed in, frowning slightly in thought. Reno… confused him sometimes. Just a few days ago, every time he saw the senior Turk, he looked like he was five seconds from punching a wall. And that part, he understood. What he didn’t get was how, in less than 24 hours, he’d gone from round-the-clock pissed off to… normal.

“Sir?” Petra asked as they got underway, “Er… could I ask you something?”

“Certainly,” Tseng replied, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

“I was just wondering… I heard Sato say that Cissnei… well… that she was raised by the Company to be a Turk. Is that true?”

Liam’s eyes widened slightly. He certainly hadn’t heard anything about that.

“Not… precisely,” Tseng replied. “But she was orphaned quiet young. Her father was a high-ranking member of SOLDIER, and her mother worked in military intelligence. When they died, their friends saw to it that she was made a ward of the Company. But the decision to become a Turk was entirely her own. She was actually raised by a woman who works in accounting. I’m sure you saw her at the funeral. She was standing with Veld.”

“I didn’t know Shinra Company had wards…” Sykes noted.

“It’s… relatively uncommon. Occasionally, there are extenuating circumstances, however. Reno, for instance, was still a minor and had no living relatives and no legal guardian when he was recruited. Allowing him to remain in that state would have been a significant hindrance to him living on the Plate. Thus, Veld had him named a ward of the Company and appointed a guardian for him until he turned eighteen,” the Turk lieutenant explained, “In Cissnei’s case, her parents both perished in the line of duty, and she had nowhere else to go. I believe it was one of her father’s superiors who petitioned the board to ensure that she was cared for until she could care for herself, under the notion that they owed her that much.”

Liam turned his gaze out the window as the others fell silent. It didn’t seem right. Cissnei had given her life for the same Company that had caused her to lose both of her parents. It felt ironic… and not in a good way.

“… Do you ever get used to… this?” he suddenly found himself asking as they paused briefly at a traffic light. Tseng glanced over at him.

“I certainly can’t speak for every Turk ,” he said, seriously. “… but I never have. I think there are, thankfully, very few people so hardened against the world that loss has no effect on them.”

Liam nodded.

“But… you do eventually learn to live with it,” Tseng added.

~end chapter 22~