Hold On a Little Longer
The thunderstorm rumbled in the sky, lightning streaking across dark clouds. A gunshot rang out in the alleyway, hidden by the thunder. Reno felt lightheaded as he slumped beside the wall. His vision blurred for a minute before feebly standing up. "You're gonna pay . . . for this," he snapped weakly reaching for his EMR.
"Heh; try me, Turk." The kid grinned wickedly, his companions pounding the redhead into the ground. He gripped the dropped electric nightstick and held it at the Turk's chest. "You deserve this for what you've done." An electric shockwave erupted from its tip, sending an electric bolt through his body. Reno screamed, unable to bear the pain. This . . . this has to be it . . . His eyes closed, fearing the end.
"And what would you three punks be doing?" The ringleader froze, as a red caped black-haired pale and gaunt figure appeared from the shadows. Reno strained his ears to hear the familiar voice of a former Turk. . . . Valentine . . . what the hell . . .
"None of your business," the dark haired kid snapped, twirling the EMR in his hand. "We can take you no problem." He motioned to the other teens. "Come on, guys. Let's show him what we're capable of." The two advanced, just to get knocked back down. Vincent stood there, unscathed as he approached the remaining one, threateningly holding the EMR at Reno's throat.
"Come any closer and your buddy here'll get it." The redhead felt the cold metal of the nightstick against his skin. Damn . . . how'd I even get myself into this . . . I'm fucking done for . . . no need for anyone to be heroic . . . Reno cringed as the teenager struck him across the forehead. Valentine, don't think of anything stupid . . . I don't want to be saved . . . His head fell to the side, warm sticky blood dripping down his face.
Reno, hold on. The redhead blinked faintly. He would've sworn he'd heard the Ex-Turk's voice in his head. I promise I'll get you out of this. Just hold on a little longer. Reno raised his head slowly, pulling himself up against the wall cringing in pain.
"You're not going anywhere, Turk." The remaining teen jerked Reno by his shirt collar and forced him to stand on whatever strength he had left. He flinched, feeling a sharp pain in his abdomen and collapsed to his knees. . . . Valentine . . . please . . . help . . . He groaned, coughing up blood from the gunshot wound. The kid smirked, giving the redhead a swift kick in the side, tearing his wound even more. Reno crumpled in a bloody heap on the ground, physically exhausted and hurt and unable to get back up.
Vincent gripped the teenager's wrist, forcing the EMR out of his hand. "I gave your pals a fair warning. Too bad you didn't." He bent the kid's arm back until the kid gave in.
"Okay, I'm sorry!"
The ex-Turk's crimson eyes showed contained fury. "Sorry, I don't think, won't cut it." He dropped the kid with a thud to the ground. "If I see you around here again, don't think I'll be as generous the next time." The teenager took off, running as fast as his feet could carry him. He stood silently, watching as the kid disappeared from his view. Shaking his head, Vincent turned his gaze on the grotesque scene in front of him. A low groan directed his attention to a heap of dark red and blue barely alive.
"Reno?" He gently lifted the redhead's arm, exposing a deathly wound. The Turk groaned cringing in pain. I said hold on, Reno. Don't give out on me.
A sharp intake of breath forced the redhead to open his eyes. He tried to sit up, but collapsed against Vincent's shoulder. ". . . Valentine . . . what happened . . ." Reno touched the side of his face, his fingers stained with his own blood. ". . . my head . . ."
"Take it easy." Vincent slid an arm around Reno, supporting his upper body. The redhead squirmed in his hold. "Just relax, Reno. You're not going anywhere yet."
"Vincent . . ." Reno grimaced, pain burning his insides. ". . . I can't feel anything but pain . . . I must be-"
"Don't start that." The ex-Turk's clawed hand felt the redhead's injured side. An infected gunshot wound bled through Reno's shirt and blazer, leaving dark red stains. "You're not dying."
"But, I . . ." The Turk gasped, coughing up even more blood. His head fell limp against Vincent, his eyes almost closed. " . . . I feel so cold . . ." Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth as he feebly slid his arm around the ex-Turk's neck, grasping the collar with some remaining strength. Reno's strength was almost gone, and he was so close to losing consciousness. As more blood came out, his entire body convulsed with each cough.
Vincent held the Turk in his arms and carried him from the alleyway. Within a few minutes, he had gotten Reno to a safer place than where he'd been found. The ex-Turk treated his wounds as if he was helping out an old friend and took care of him. The redhead had passed out before Vincent could get Reno to his apartment. In about two weeks, Reno woke in severe pain despite the fact that he no longer had a gunshot wound. Just a few bandaged injuries, including where the bullet had been lodged in his side.
"Goddamn it!" Reno hissed in pain. "This fucking hurts!"
Vincent shook his head. "If you stopped trying to move around, it wouldn't hurt so much." He handed the redhead a glass of water and two painkillers. "This will have to do for now."
"I took two of these yesterday, Valentine. Nothing you've got helps to deaden the damned pain," the redhead fumed, swallowing the pills. Gulping down the water, he dropped his head against the pillow, glancing out the window of his apartment.
"It does help, Reno. You just have to be patient." Vincent took the empty glass from the Turk. "The pills take a few minutes to work."
"They're not immediate!?"
"No, Reno." The redhead scowled, wincing from the sharp pricks of pain. "If I had any Potions or Cures, I'd have given to you before now." The room grew deathly silent. Reno looked back at the window with a thoughtful expression on his face, staring at the storm clouds while rain pounded the glass. Vincent decided to help clean the invalid Turk's place and started by tossing items of clothes into separate piles.
He found a pocket knife already stained with dried blood hidden amidst the clothes. Glancing at the Turk, Vincent was about to ask, but Reno broke the silence. "Valentine, why the hell'd you save me?"
"Well, I don't know."
"Of course you know. There's gotta be some reason." Reno forced himself to get up. Wincing in pain, he leaned against the wall to steady himself. "Were you just looking out for me or something?"
Vincent shrugged. "Something like that."
"Then I guess you already know."
"Know about what?"
"So you don't know?" Vincent shook his head. "And no one said anything?" Another shake of his head made Reno sigh. He brushed several red bangs from his bandaged forehead. "Tseng had me take some kind of test a month ago. I usually pass those sorts of things, but this time something was wrong with me."
"What do you mean by wrong?"
"He wasn't specific, but I remember hearing the doctor mention 'Hojo' and 'experiment' in the same sentence." Reno slumped into the couch, feeling sick to his stomach.
"How'd the doctor come to that conclusion?"
"He found something abnormal in my blood." Reno handed a folded, crumpled piece of paper to Vincent. "I can't read chicken scratch, so I've got no idea what this says."
Vincent scanned over the paper, reading what he could. Words only Hojo would use were written on the lines. Reno felt a lump in his throat tighten. The ex-Turk glanced between the spiky redhead and the scrap of paper in his hands. "Reno, this is nothing more than a doctor's note."
"No, it says more than that." Reno stood up, shaking his head. "Only a sadistic doctor like Hojo would write this kind of thing. How else could they've found something odd like that?" He ran his fingers through his hair frustrated. "There's gotta be more to it."
Nodding, the ex-Turk placed the paper on the counter and the knife on top of that. "Well, I don't see anything that unusual. See you tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah, sure." Reno shook his head as the door closed. He glanced at the knife glistening with dried blood. The room started to make his head spin as he stood up, grasping the blade in his hand . . . Valentine . . . you don't get it. . . I'm not even human . . . Another flash of lightning. . . the Turk grimaced as pain racked his body. He collapsed against the wall, red blood running from deep wounds, staining the carpet. As another flash of lightning illuminated the room, Reno glanced at the ceiling, a memory resurfacing in his mind:
Bright light from the lab - Hojo's lab - ceiling blinds him for a second before he looks across the room. Something makes him ill and sick to his stomach. He doesn't want to get up. Doesn't want another dose of the poison - liquid-formed Jenova cells. The last test subject died from what he has taken . . . the sound of the door opening and closing. . . Hojo and his assistant coming to check on him. Checking on their test subject's progress. A test subject - is that what I am? Just a test subject to be experimented on, maybe even killed?
"Professor, he's gotten worse than yesterday. Perhaps he needs more?"
"Yes. More will make him better."
Reno shakes his head violently, his long red bangs covering his sweat-stained forehead. "Pl-please, no," he begs, but the scientist won't listen. Three injections - one in his forearm, another in his side, the other in the back of his neck. An internal fire burns his skin, making him scream in agony. No more . . . please no more . . .
"He will be the perfect SOLDIER."
"I . . . I never wanted this . . ." He winced, feeling sick as lightning flashed. A loud knock at the door made his muscles tense, allowing more blood to flow.
Vincent opened the door, somewhat surprised to find it unlocked. He glanced about the room, unable to find the fiery redhead. The folded note on the counter caught his eye, and the last half of it resurfaced in his mind:
" '. . subject's blood contains traces of highly unstable alien cells . . . perhaps Jenova matter. . . still considerably, perfectly healthy . . . yet a failed experiment . . . mixture of human and animal . . . a chimera, nonetheless . . . should be kept under supervision if something were to go wrong . . .' "
No wonder Reno had been so strange about it, the ex-Turk realized. Where was the redhead anyway? He couldn't have gotten up with all the pain he was in, so where was he? A low moan of pain answered it, distracting his thoughts.
Vincent turned to face a pale redhead lying slumped on the floor. "Reno?" He knelt beside the Turk, hearing shallow breathing and holding him in his arms. "Reno, answer me."
Reno's bright blue-green eyes glanced at him. ". . . Valentine . . . you don't give a fuck about me . . ." The redhead's voice was dry and airy. " . . . I'm just a damn experiment. . ." His eyes started to glaze slightly. "I . . . I don't deserve to live . . ."
Vincent shook his head. "No, you're not. You're more than that."
Reno cringed, gazing at the ex-Turk. "No one ever cares about experiments . . ." A tear fell down the redhead's face. ". . . No one ever does . . ."
"I do care, Reno." Vincent traced the scar on the Turk's cheek, brushing the tear away. "I know what it's like to be an experiment." He gently placed his clawed hand against Reno's face and kissed him. Pulling away, the ex-Turk lifted the redhead off the floor
Reno felt terribly numb and cold. ". . . Valentine, why . . ." his head fell limp against Vincent's shoulder as the redhead's eyes closed one final time ". . . are you doing this for me?"
"Because I love you, Reno." Vincent felt the Turk grow heavier in his arms. "Just hold on a little longer."
A faint smile crossed his lips. ". . . I'll try . . ." The redhead murmured so low Vincent had to strain his ears to hear him. The ex-Turk bandaged his wounds, but it was too late. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed one last time as the redhead fell silent. His labored breathing gone and peacefully resting in his lover's arms