Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 52: Aftermath

He awoke to pain.

It wasn’t the first time in recent memory he’d experienced such an awakening, but the previous ones had all been almost immediately followed by the return of unconsciousness. Or at least, that’s what he assumed the fact that he remembered waking several times now, but nothing in between said wakings, meant.

This time seemed different, though. Those earlier brief moments of wakefulness had been fleeting at best. He had his doubts as to whether he was even really awake at all, or simply having a particularly lucid dream. This time, though, he was… aware.

Dazed… but aware. It took a great deal of effort to fight through the lingering haze of sleep, but the pain actually helped with that, pulling him back from the edge when he started to drift off again into oblivion. It was a dull pain, and as clarity slowly returned, he realized that he recognized it as pain masked by drugs. Probably a lot of drugs, given how hard it was to hold onto an individual strand of logic at the moment. His mind wandered constantly and he couldn’t focus on any one thing for long.

‘Open your goddamn eyes.’

It took him several seconds – or, hell, maybe they were actually minutes… who the fuck even knew? – to figure out that it was his own mind making the demand. It took him even longer to comply with it, and even when he did so, he was half convinced he was, in fact, dreaming, because he was surrounded by a sea of white.

Agonizingly slowly, other senses began to filter back in, and the dreamlike fog lifted ever so slightly. He groaned, though whether he did so out loud or only mentally, he wasn’t sure.

He was in an Ifrit-forsaken hospital.

He’d know that sterile, antiseptic, unnaturally clean smell anywhere. Great. What’d he do to himself this time? His brain felt like mush right now… which he was pretty sure was due to being doped up on fuck only knew what. He recognized that,too. He’d been put under. Anesthesia always left him feeling groggy for hours, even after it finally wore off.

Thankfully, though, he didn’t feel the disturbing sense of wrongness he always got when they gave him the hardcore painkillers… so apparently, either whatever had happened wasn’t all that bad, or someone had thought to let the doctors know ahead of time that he shouldn’t have them. Either that, or he’d been out of it so long, he’d slept through the worst of the effects.

Judging by the pain in his chest, he was going to go with the second of the possibilities. He was definitely hurt bad enough that he was in a hospital bed, so it was probably fairly serious. And the drugs that didn’t turn him into a sniveling, panicked mess mostly just took the edge off the pain and brought it down to tolerable levels. If he’d been given the good shit, and he wouldn’t have been feeling much of anything for awhile, even if they were starting to wear off. Well… physically, anyway. He’d decided a long time ago that he’d prefer to tolerate some pain, rather than be so completely stoned that paranoia and anxiety started to take hold.

Speaking of paranoia, though… Reno was suddenly very aware that he was being watched. He turned his head in the direction of his observer who was seated next to his bed in one of those horrendously uncomfortable hospital chairs the redhead was fairly sure they only used because it made it that much easier to enforce visiting hours.

“Ah… There you are.”

“Sir?” he queried… or, rather, attempted to. It was utterly impossible to speak. And the reason became readily apparent as he touched a hand to his lips and encountered plastic. Something was in his mouth, taped in place to prevent whatever it was from moving. Reno went cross-eyed for a brief moment, trying to get a glimpse of it, before his slightly terrified gaze flickered back to the face now hovering over him.

“Calm down,” Veld said in an even, unconcerned voice. “You can’t talk right now. You’ve been sedated for a day and a half, recovering from major surgery. They needed to protect your airway. Do you remember what happened?”

Reno closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus… but it was no use. Between the pain and the medication and apparently just having woken up from anesthesia, his memory was fucked. He vaguely recalled something about Rufus and a gun… but beyond that, everything was a jumbled mess.

He silently swore. If that little shit had shot him again, he was gonna fucking beat the hell out of him when he got out of here… even if he was the goddamned vice president.

He managed a slight shake of his head and Veld nodded. “That’s not uncommon after a serious injury. It’ll come back to you,” he said, “In the meantime… I’ll see if I can fill in some of the blanks for you. You’ve been unconscious since we returned from our trip to the south. You were shot in the chest by a member of the Zenshou who was threatening the vice president. Rufus is fine, by the way. You managed to take her down, in spite of your injuries. We have her in custody now. I’ll let Tseng brief you on the specifics, seeing as I only arrived well after the fact.”

The redhead’s gaze instinctively wandered across the room, searching for his mentor… only to realize that he wasn’t present. He glanced questioningly up at the Turk leader. Veld chuckled softly.

“Let me amend that,” he added, “He’ll brief you after he recovers a bit, himself. He was, perhaps, a bit… over generous… in donating blood to sustain you until we could reach adequate medical care. He’s presently under explicit orders to rest… and if he doesn’t, I’ve threatened to send him on a mandatory week long vacation as soon as we return home. Hmph. Though just between you and me… I may do that anyway. He’s overdue. Again.”

Reno blinked in surprise… since blinking was virtually all he could do at the moment. Tseng had given him blood? Not that he was especially shocked by the fact that he was willing, but he’d somehow never realized they had the same type. Come to think of it, he really had no idea what his blood type even was to begin with. He’d have to remember to ask Ward the next time he got dragged in to see her… which would likely be about five and a half seconds after they arrived in Midgar, anyway. Hell… he probably wouldn’t even have to be dragged. She’d probably be standing there, just waiting to get her hands on him. Regardless, though, that information might come in handy some day.

Veld leaned back in his seat and pressed his fingertips together, fixing him with a much more serious expression.

“All joking aside, however… you’re going to be sidelined for quite some time, I’m afraid. If Dr. Ward holds true to form, I’d say six weeks, minimum, full medical restriction, half in the hospital, half at home, in bed. And that’s best case scenario, assuming no infections or other complications from the wounds. That Zenshou really did a number on you, Reno.”

By now, he was getting decidedly pissed off about having a tube shoved down his throat, because he would have liked nothing more than to inform Veld of exactly what he thought of that prognosis. Six weeks full restriction? Minimum? He’d go nuts. He was absolutely going to lose his fucking mind if he had to stay in bed for six Ifrit-forsaken weeks.

He’d never been stuck in the hospital for more than a week at a time before… and that was because he was typically all but climbing the walls after the first few days, to the point that he was pretty sure the doctors mostly just released him for the sake of their own sanity.

Veld suddenly laughed, and Reno turned to glare at the Turk leader. He shook his head, quickly composing himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so used to you virtually never closing that mouth of yours I don’t think I’ve ever realized quite how expressive you are without it. I take it you’re not exactly thrilled by the idea of a prolonged recovery?”

Reno narrowed his eyes, annoyed at the commentary… but it wasn’t as if he could deny it. The Turk leader rested a hand on his shoulder, patting it reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we can find something to keep you occupied once you’re feeling up to doing much more than eating and sleeping. Though if past experience is any indication… that won’t be for awhile, either.”

The redhead pointedly rolled his eyes.

“Hmph… I’m going to let that response slide without a reprimand just this once. But only because you were half-dead thirty-six hours ago,” Veld said, the barest hint of a teasing threat in his tone. Then he patted the younger Turk on the shoulder again. “Get some rest. I’ll let Tseng know you’re finally shaking off the anesthesia. I’m sure he’ll be in to see you far sooner than he ought to be.”

---

He didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t really remember waking up again, either, for that matter. As far as Reno was concerned, he’d closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again the curtains on his windows had been drawn and the lights had been turned down and Veld had vanished.

He was very much aware of the pain in his chest, though… and that it had expanded to include his left side, just above his hip. He prodded the epicenter of said pain and winced. Yep… the drugs were definitely wearing off. Reno shifted his gaze towards the ceiling and tried not to think about it… but didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of luck there. It was starting to really hurt.

But on the bright side, it kept him from slipping back into dreamland, and he took full advantage of the opportunity to take stock of just how bad things were, carefully raising himself up ever so slightly… just enough to get a halfway decent look at himself.

He couldn’t see much, truth be told. Most of his torso seemed to be wrapped in gauze bandages. A narrow tube disappeared under the ones that tightly bound his chest. It was filled with bright red blood. The inside of the elbow of his left arm seemed to have been used as a goddamn pin-cushion. He could plainly see the bruising from multiple attempts at inserting a needle into a vein. His right arm wasn’t much better, and both had active IVs jabbed into them, as did the vein along the back of his right hand.

The redhead shuddered slightly. He hated those. He wasn’t sure why, but somehow they were even worse than having one in his arm. A flicker of movement to his left drew his attention away from his self-examination, and let his head drop back against the pillow, hoping it was one of the docs with more drugs.

It wasn’t… but it was the next best thing.

Tseng slipped into the room, and just as quickly peered back out into the hall, as though he were worried someone had followed him, before soundlessly easing the door shut behind him. He turned, and for a fleeting moment, looked a bit shocked to see blue eyes looking back at him from the bed.

“… It’s well past visiting hours,” he quietly explained in response to the curious gaze, “And I don’t seem to have quite the same clout here as I do at Midgar General. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” he added, making his way over to the bed and taking up residence in the chair beside it… and then scoffed, “Veld insisted that I needed more rest.”

Tseng rested his palm on the younger Turk’s forehead, lightly brushing the hair away from his face, and Reno closed his eyes, enjoying the physical contact.

“I will never cease to hate seeing you like this…” his mentor sighed, “Rufus sends his regards, incidentally… and his gratitude.”

Normally, Reno would have snorted in disbelief at such a prospect… but as no one had bothered to take the damn tube out yet, the best he could manage was a sardonic raise of one eyebrow that somewhat mirrored one of Tseng’s own common expressions. His mentor chuckled in response.

“Well… if you wish me to be exact, I’ve been instructed to inform you that you had better not expect a second bottle of Banora White whiskey for this, as he’s still on the waiting list after gifting you the previous bottle. But I’m quite certain that ‘thank you for saving my life’ was heavily implied.”

The redhead rolled his eyes… but he knew Tseng wasright about that. Rufus virtually never actually said those words. He let his appreciation be known in other ways. Usually very expensive ways.

Reno shifted slightly, hoping for a more comfortable position, and winced as the small movement sent a sharp stab of pain through his chest and abdomen. Tseng frowned slightly.

“Are you in more pain than you should be?”

The younger Turk shrugged somewhat feebly, but didn’t try to dissuade him from the idea. The fact was that, yeah… he hurt. And he really could use a little more pain relief. Tseng stood and walked towards the door, reaching for the chart that hung on the wall, and scowled.

“If I’m reading this correctly, you haven’t been given anything for nearly four hours. No wonder you’re uncomfortable… The way you metabolize medication, it likely wore off ages ago. I’ll be back in a moment,” his said, quickly leaving the room, chart in hand.

That was a little detail they’d figured out shortly after his nineteenth birthday. Well… it was more that Rude had figured it out. Reno had ended up with a broken wrist following an assignment in the Kalm… courtesy of being thrown by one of the Ifrit-forsaken chocobos Kai had insisted on riding instead of taking the helicopter like normal human beings. He’d been given his usual brand of non-fucks-with-his-head prescription painkillers for a week or two until it had healed up enough that it stopped throbbing.

The label on the bottle said two pills every four hours, just like it always did. And that’s what Reno had taken. It was Rude who had realized that by about the two hour mark, they were having little to no effect at all. Well… the redhead had long since realized that, too, of course… but he’d always just assumed that was how they were supposed to work. His friend had forcibly dragged him back down to Medical, where Reno had been thoroughly chastised for not saying something sooner and then given a new prescription with new dosing instructions to account for his faster than normal metabolism.

Reno glanced towards the door when he suddenly heard raised voices… one of which was unequivocally Tseng’s, and which sounded particularly unhappy. But given that the borderline shouting match was being conducted entirely in Wutaiian, he didn’t know for certain what was being said. He could guess, though, and the thought made him grin around the tube in his mouth.

A few moments later, his mentor was ushering a slightly terrified-looking doctor back into his room.

---

The week wore on at a snail’s pace for Reno. A Turk almost being murdered in cold blood wasn’t reason enough to end the trip early, after all, and knowing that the Zenshou had their eyes on the Highwind, the Turks who were still able-bodied were practically on duty around the clock, with only short, staggered breaks to eat and sleep.

Thus, the redhead had been largely abandoned following Tseng’s forced departure after outing himself to the hospital staff in order to procure more painkillers for his protege. He’d returned the following morning, but it had been a very short visit. By day five of their trip… two days still before they planned to be home… Reno’s prediction was quickly coming true. He was losing his mind from boredom.

Well… when he was actually conscious, that is… which, frankly, he wasn’t convinced was all that often. When he was awake, though, it was torture.

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t get up and move around. Hell, he couldn’t even really watch TV, because every fucking channel, even the ones coming out of Midgar, seemed to have been translated into Wutaiian. Though on the bright side, Tseng had apparently put the fear of Leviathan into his doctors and they were making absolutely certain that he was good and drugged up twenty-four hours a day… which, though it made him ridiculously drowsy, was moderately better than laying around in pain and having nothing to do all day. So… he spent his time laying around like a useless lump, instead.

It was only for two more days. Then, they’d load his sorry ass back onto the Highwind and shuttle him off to Midgar General. He was almost looking forward to having Dr. Ward grumbling at him again, at this point. The docs in Wutai were all business and efficiency. They didn’t bother having a conversation with you that wasn’t related to your medical needs. Not that Reno was all that talkative at the moment, anyway, but it would have been nice if they’d made an effort.

The moment the thought that he actually missed Ward’s overbearing presence entered his mind, he swore to himself that he’d never openly admit that to anyone. Ever. Especially not to the good doctor herself. He’d never hear the end of it.

But perhaps worse than being bored, drugged, and bed-ridden was the lengthy silence from his teammates. His phone had been confiscated as a matter of hospital policy – they alleged that the signal interfered with the medical equipment – so his only method of communication with the others was in person, face to face… which as previously mentioned wasn’t exactly a regular thing with them all on duty right now. Plus, with him passed out for better than sixty percent of the day, even if someone did have time to drop in, odds were pretty slim he’d ever know they were there.

Which made his waking hours not only boring, but depressing, as well.

The knowledge that he had about six to eight weeks of this to go after he got home wasn’t exactly an uplifting prospect, either…

---

“This is infuriating…” Rufus muttered angrily as he stormed into his hotel room following a private meeting with his father. Tseng glanced up at the unexpectedly loud entrance, tucking his PHS back into his jacket’s inner pocket.

“Sir?” he queried.

“Father utterly refuses to move the official reactor opening,” the young executive scowled, “It’s one Ramuh-forsaken day. Is it really so much to ask that we get it over with early so that we can go home? I was very nearly killed, after all!”

Tseng had to bite his tongue before he said something he’d later regret… because, though Reno had come far closer to death than the Shinra heir, and would be recovering for weeks, Rufus wasn’t technically wrong. He very well could have been killed, had the redhead not been able to intervene in time. The Turk lieutenant quickly reminded himself that the experience had more than slightly rattled the young man in spite of having emerged relatively unscathed.

Rufus stalked across the room and helped himself to the bottle of wine that was waiting for him on the sideboard table, pouring himself a glass and settling into a chair in the corner. He was silent for a few minutes, alternately sipping his drink and studying the dark red liquid intently. Finally, he looked up at Tseng expectantly.

“Well?” he asked. The Turk raised an eyebrow.

“Well, what, sir?”

Rufus rolled his eyes and set the glass aside.

“Well, is the Slum Rat still among the living or not?” he snapped, “And don’t even bother trying to tell me that you didn’t use my brief absence to check in with his doctor…”

A faint smile flashed briefly over Tseng’s lips.

“Reno would be quite touched to know that you’re worried about him, sir…”

Rufus scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m merely inquiring about a company asset. A very expensive one, that the Company happens to carry a five million gil life insurance policy on to offset the outrageous medical bills your department turns in every quarter. It was a budgetary question… nothing more.”

“Sir… Is it really so difficult to admit that you’ve grown fond of him?” Tseng sighed. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for his charge’s usual games. He knew perfectly well what Rufus was doing by couching his concern behind the familiar and safe shield of monetary value. And normally, he didn’t mind humoring him, because he had first-hand insight into the reasons why the younger Shinra tended to keep most people at arms length, emotionally speaking… but right now, the last thing he wanted was to listen to Rufus’ faux-insults towards his protege.

Rufus glowered at him in response.

“I am certainly not ‘fond of him’,” he replied in an affronted tone. “Just because I don’t wish to attend his funeral in the near future doesn’t mean I like the bastard.”

Tseng couldn’t help but smile slightly at the proclamation. “Forgive me, sir, but I find it very hard to believe you would consider attending his funeral at allif you didn’t like him. At least to some extent.”

The Shinra vice president certainly hadn’t attended any of the funerals for fallen Turks in the past, and there had been more than just a few during his tenure in the office. Rufus sputtered, searching for an appropriate reply that didn’t contradict his prior statements, but Tseng opted to take pity on the younger man.

“Reno is… doing well. Considering. I’d intended to check in on him in person when Rude arrives to relieve me, but it seems he’s presently asleep.”

Rufus frowned, and Tseng could almost literally see the facade drop for a moment.

“… How long will it take him to recover?”

“Six weeks, on the optimistic end,” Tseng replied, “But we’ll see what Dr. Ward has to say when we return to Midgar. She tends to err on the side of caution rather than optimism.”

“Ugh… that old harpy,” Rufus muttered, rolling his eyes.

“That ‘old harpy’ is a very dedicated physician, and probably the only doctor in Midgar that Reno doesn’t openly detest, sir,” the Wutaiian Turk chuckled, “As such, I will bow to her judgment on any and all medical matters where he is involved.”

Rufus dismissively waved his hand. “It’s hardly any of my concern what sort of medical advice the idiot takes. He can see one of those ridiculous Cosmo Canyon ‘spirit healers’ with their crystals and essential oils, for all I care.”

Tseng shook his head. “Sir, forgive me for the liberty, but since the attack you’ve been considerably more… moody… than usual. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“I am never moody,” Rufus snapped. “And if I seem slight put off by the fact that I came rather unjustifiably close to being shot in the head, I think I ought to be pardoned for being in a less than ideal frame of mind!”

The Turk lieutenant said nothing. He simply fixed his gaze on the younger man and waited. Rufus stubbornly stared right back at him for almost a full minute before growling low in his throat and dropping eye contact. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“… The whole fiasco brought back some… unpleasant memories for me.”

“I imagine it did,” Tseng gently replied.

“How do you stand it? Knowing that history might repeat itself every time you report for work…”

“It’s simply part of the job, sir. It’s something every Turk has to eventually accept.”

Rufus glanced away from him, turning his gaze on the open window that overlooked the sacred mountains.

“Then why call yourselves a family? Why let yourself even get attached at all to something that could easily be gone tomorrow?”

“Because, for many of us, it’s the only family we have. If we didn’t… we would be alone.”

The Shinra heir snorted softly. “And just what’s wrong with being alone? It works quite well for me.”

“Sir, if that were true, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Tseng pointed out, forcing back a faint smile. Rufus glared at him.

“You’re taking a great number of liberties today, Tseng…” he muttered, though there was no real venom in his voice.

“Yes, sir. I suppose I am. Would you like me to stop?”

The young executive was silent for a moment, his attention back on the tranquility of the mountains beyond his window.

“… No.”

---

Remy made her way down the path towards the Highwind. It was nearing lunchtime, but she’d already eaten. She’d be stationed on board the aircraft until dinnertime. After the attack on the Vice President, and the failed heist, they weren’t taking any chances – particularly not with the President furious with them about the security breach to begin with. Kai had been subjected to a personal reprimand from the senior executive for being the one to inadvertently facilitate said breach – complete with threats of termination of employment, that were only ultimately threats because Veld intervened – but they were all feeling the man’s anger in one way or another.

Speaking of Kai, however… Remy was worried about her. She was blaming herself for what had happened to Reno. She hadn’t even gone to visit him, she felt so guilty about it… not that there was a whole lot of time to sit at a hospital bedside, but just about everyone else had made at least one trip to see the redhead, however briefly. Nothing Remy said to the woman seemed to get through to her.

And that concerned her, given Kai’s history. Granted, her feelings towards the redhead were nothing like what she’d had with Alyssa… but Kai adored him in her own way. Reno was… something akin to a beloved nephew to Kai. Or at least that’s how Remy tended to view the pair’s relationship. Kai teased him relentlessly, but she was undeniably protective of the younger Turk… and being an orphan herself from a fairly young age, she had a connection with him that the rest of them really couldn’t boast. Knowing that her own carelessness had almost cost him his life was weighing heavily on her.

Remy sighed and climbed the ramp leading up to the Highwind’s entrance on deck. It was only two more days. Once they were safely back in Midgar, things would settle, and they could all unpack what had happened and deal with it… but for now, as much as she might wish otherwise, she had to focus on the assignment. And at this particular moment, her assignment was relieving Rude of guard duty so that he could go and relieve Tseng of escort duty.

Rude greeted her with a nod as soon as she stepped inside.

“Anything to report?” she asked. The younger Turk shook his head.

“It’s been quiet. If the Zenshou are still interested, they’re being patient about it. None of the patrols have reported anything, either.”

“And our prisoner?”

“She’s been quiet, too. Don’t think isolation’s gonna break her. Hasn’t said a word since Kai was in with her. Sykes thinks it’s a little creepy, the way she just stares at him the whole time when he’s on watch.”

“Who’s on duty down there, now?” Remy asked, trying, and failing, to mentally pull up the rather last-minute roster.

“Petra.”

The senior Turk nodded. “Alright. Hurry and get something to eat. Tseng is probably anxious for a break by now.”

Rude turned to go, but hesitated a moment.

“Heard anything new about Reno?”

“Just that he’s been in and out of consciousness. Mostly out.”

The younger Turk’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed, but made no other comment before turning and heading off to his next duty station. Remy understood how he felt. If Reno was a nephew to Kai, he was nothing short of a younger brother to Rude. He was understandably worried. She’d been trying hard not to think about Reno, herself, as far as that went – at least not while on duty – but it was easier said than done. In fact, it was far harder than it had ever been for her in the past. Normally, she had little difficulty separating her personal life from her professional life. She loved her teammates. They were her friends. A second family. But she had never allowed herself to become so deeply attached to one of them that their loss, or potential loss, impacted her ability to do her job. She maintained a ‘professional distance’ for her sake, as well as theirs.

She was beginning to think that the redhead might have slipped through a crack in her carefully crafted emotional barrier… because she found herself thinking about him far more than she should have been. After all… she knew him in ways that she would almost certainly never know the other members of the team. She was intimately acquainted with every square inch of his body, and he damn well knew hers inside and out. Literally.

And… maybe that was a mistake.

Reno had been the most perfect lover from the moment she’d finally given in to her desires and accepted his offer. But he was also a fellow Turk. Not just any fellow Turk, but the heir apparent to Tseng, and her future commanding officer. More than that, though… she was worried that their “purely physical” relationship wasn’t so purely physical anymore.

And it wasn’t just this latest incident. She’d been actively seeking him out for more than just sex over the past several weeks. Dinners… the occasional movie… just hanging out, sometimes for hours. Granted, it inevitably ended in sex, but she couldn’t deny anymore than it had moved beyond that. At least for her.

And she didn’t want that. No matter how good a lover he was, no matter how much fun he could be to spend time with, no matter how caring and sensitive he was… she didn’t want to fall in love with a fellow Turk.

The only question was… how in Leviathan’s name was she going to tell Reno that?

~end Chapter 52~