Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any characters within this story.

It wais raining: thick heavy drops smashing the ground like miniature missiles. It seemed like the sort of deluge that would wash the world away, leaving it a grey mess. The icy cold drops would be end of several homeless people, and quite a few strays. The water gushed down roofs into overflowing eavestroughs, pouring dirty debris into a dark and secluded alley. A stone flew like a projectile and smashed into the bruised and bleeding cheek of one red-haired Turk.

He was lying facedown in the mud and grime of the alley, far back enough that no causal passerby would see him. Of course, there would be no civilians walking around in this rain, but Reno felt like that would be his only hope. The stone had brought him back to consciousness, and he groaned. The noise came out as a bubbling whisper because at some point the knife had punctured a lung. A fresh stream of crimson ran down his cheek, to join the growing lake underneath him.

How had his mission gone wrong? The Turk was supposed to capture one suspect, alone and unarmed, and bring him back to Shinra for questioning. What he hadn't expected was a chase, leading him to this ally where he was quickly bleeding out. A flash of silver from shadowed doorway, a burning pain across his ribs. Of course he pulled his EMR to fight but the man's friends were behind him, restraining his arms. Another stab, kicking, fists. He broke free and ran to toe alley's exit, only to have one throw a knife in his back. The irony didn't escape him, a Turk whose job description was track, interrogate, kill. The men had left him for dead, the rain washing away any traces of struggle.

The situation was laughable. The tremors were worse now, Reno noted dully. Although the pain was gone, numbed by the rain. He was going to die in a filthy alley like a rat. He had always imagined his death as something… cooler. Like going out in a fiery helicopter crash, being blown up after cutting the wrong wire, an epic fight with some big bad guy. Hell, at the rate he drank and smoked, he half-expected to die from alcohol poisoning, liver failure, or cancer. Not like this.

"Fuck," he whispered. Reno realized that he had nothing. No one whose world would end because he had. Rude would mourn him, and he was sure that Elena would cry over his grave. But she cried because the vending machines were out of her favourite chocolate bar, so really, it didn't count. Rufus…

"I don't wanna die like this."

Reno tried to drag himself to the end of the alley. If someone stumbled over his body, they would at least call an ambulance. All he managed to do was turn himself over, blood pouring from fatal wounds. The rain quickly carried away the red stream. His arms failed him, and his legs wouldn't respond. He assumed the knife had severed some nerves. "Damn. DAMN," he choked, blood welling from his lips. Not long now, he thought. With a violently shaking hand, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled a soggy cigarette from a disintegrating box. It took him close to five minutes. After several tries, he got the stick in his mouth, the end trailing broken strands of tobacco. He rested for a minute, then grabbed his lighter. It seemed uproariously funny to him that he couldn't get a spark going. His chest heaved in silent laughter, forcing rivulets of blood to soak his black suit.

PHS! He remembered with a flare of hope. He had dropped it in the fight, but it was a tight alley, and it would be somewhere close. If he could call Tseng…

He dragged his hands along the rough ground, searching for the cellular phone. Something brushed his hand and he cried with relief. With increasingly clumsy fingers he flipped the top, and the comforting glow illuminated his ruined face and body. It slipped from bloodless fingers onto his chest, and he thought a million curses. Painfully he tried again, pressing 1 on the keypad. The auto-dial rang frightfully loud, overwhelming the sound of his bubbling, rasping breath. Reno brought the phone near to his ear, but couldn't hold it. It dropped near his ear, and he hoped desperately that Tseng could hear him.

"Hello? Reno?"

"…" Reno worked his mouth desperately, trying to make some noise beyond a whisper. Blood bubbled from his lips, and he knew it would be nearly impossible to get to him before he died.

"Reno? Are you on your way back with the suspect? Reno? Is this a damn joke?"

"Bossman. Stab…stabbed me good… Alley…" Reno coughed painfully, and his body shuddered violently. His vision was going dark, the alley coming in and out of focus. No. NO! He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to tell Rufus… he still had a million pranks he wanted to play. His copter still needed to be upgraded into the sweetest machine Shinra owned. He had a poker game on Friday at the bar with Rude… Rufus…. He still had to make amends, support Rufus through the building of Neo-Shinra.

Was this all his life amounted to? Pranks, drinking, and unconfessed feelings for his boss? Damn. He should have volunteered at Tits Lockheart's orphanage. He should have taken a hobo out for lunch. Fuck. Worthless... Reno heard Tseng talking to him through the phone, telling him to hold on, they were coming, they were five minutes away. Reno felt his heart slowing. His lungs were full of blood, he couldn't get any air.

"Tseng. Tell… Rufus… tell him…"

"Reno! Hold on, we're coming. RENO!"

"I love…I love…" Reno gasped one more time, and the alley went black.

Not two minutes later, the entire Turk team, carrying an army's worth of healing materia, hi-potions, and elixirs, ran down the alley. There they found Reno, cold and coated in his own blood, a phone beside his ear, and a bloody cigarette in his mouth. Elena checked in vain for a pulse, tears streaming down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. Tseng lowered his head, and Rude slid his sunglasses on to cover his eyes. The paramedics came with a stretcher, but Tseng stopped them with a jerky motion of his hand.

"It's too late. He's gone."

Aww man. I swear Apocalyptica made me do it.