"Damn it, why the hell can't I sleep . . ." He blinked, glancing at the clock. The dial read 3-am. For the fifth time. "Gah . . ." the redhead groaned, getting out of bed. His shirt, half-undone, hung loosely as he headed from the bedroom to the kitchen. "I've got to have something to solve this . . ."

After rummaging through the fridge, he wound up empty-handed. Sighing, Reno slumped to the floor defeated. He still couldn't sleep no matter what he did. It had been going on for a while now. By this point, it was almost too obvious – his natural ability to act cool while goofing around was overshadowed by his attempts to not show how tired he was didn't work for him.

"Hmm . . . there was something Rudo suggested . . ." Reno glanced at the counter, eyeing his cell phone. "Perhaps he could tell me what it was again . . ." He grabbed the phone, dialing in his partner's number, just to stop, flinching from the sound of the keys. Now his hearing was acting up.

Reno. . .The redhead grimaced, disoriented. He shut his eyes firmly, leaning against the wall. "What the hell . . .?" He shook his head rubbing his eyes. The redhead had not slept for almost a week, which by Turk standards, was worse than not good.

He glanced at the door, an eerie chill traveling up and down his spine. Something was wrong. It was his imagination – it had to be. Hearing voices was one step too close to being called crazy. Even the past few days he had been off in his normal routine. Sounds were bothering him, not to mention light – he spent the majority of his day at his desk groaning and making the excuse that he had a headache. When Elena asked him about going with the other two Turks for drinks, he had declined saying he wasn't up for it. Reno was the one who enjoyed drinking, but for some unknown reason he couldn't handle being around people without getting pissed off so easily. It freaked him out.

The voice was getting annoying as well. First, it was the sensitivity to light – the headaches and such, and also the aggravation of being around others. Last night, he had tried to fall asleep, but was kept awake by sharp pain in his back. This morning, he couldn't get out of bed – apparently, while trying to get up, he collapsed in a seizing fit, convulsing and coughing up blood. When it had ceased, the redhead had managed to call in sick without having to say much – his partner Rude had shown up that morning to find him lying on the floor unconscious. Nothing was making any sense.

Reno grimaced, feeling the chill form a widened road of pain up to his shoulder blades. . . . Don't fight me, Turk . . . He slid to his knees, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed across his chest shaking.

I am a part of you now – there's no escape

"What the hell do you want from me?!" Reno cried wearily, his hand gripping his shoulder. His fingers felt something wet staining his shirt. More blood.

Your body . . .

"No . . . you can't . . . "

But I can . . . and I will . . . The voice laughed maliciously. You cannot continue to fight me . . . The Turk shuddered, trying to maintain a hold on reality. His body shook violently, a line of blood dripping from his mouth as he tried to maintain control. Reno coughed profusely, more blood falling in to the floor. A strange symbol in the shape of a dragon burned its mark into his right shoulder, making him scream in agony.

My mark, like the sins you carry in your heart, will never disappear . . . The Turk collapsed in a pool of blood, his dimly-lit teal irises stared at the ceiling, defeated and with loss of any and all control. No matter what you try to accomplish in resisting me, you cannot win. . .

Reno gasped, forcing himself to stand, leaned against the counter, his hands covered in blood. His fingers wrapped around his phone. " . . . I'm not gonna let you win . . ." He pressed the send button, two numbers appearing on the screen. "Not even if it kills me . . ." The first one was good enough. Despite heavy breathing, Reno managed to get in one word before collapsing to his knees.

He heard the door open abruptly, a pair of feet entering his place as the now-pale redhead slid back into the dark red puddle staining the carpet – the sound of metal boots against the floor. A claw gripped his left shoulder, pulling him up against the wall, a deep voice calling his name. His eyes flickered from the figure at his side to his shoulder, a sharp intake of breath muffled from the taste of blood in his mouth.

" . . . Reno . . .?"A voice spoke softly

The redhead dropped his gaze, grimacing. "I . . ." His eyes widened in shock, the pain now traveling from his back to the rest of his body. There's no escape from your demons, Reno . . . The Turk gasped painfully, coughing up more blood– something scalding hot replaced the chills, as a pair of black wings pierced their way through his skin. It was as if he was burning from the inside out. His hand gripped red cloth firmly, his shirt torn and dipped in crimson color.

Strength waning, Reno collapsed against the gunman –his body couldn't take any more. ". . . Please . . . no more . . . ."

Reno grimaced, opening his eyes. The blurred image in front of him slowly cleared, showing a dark ceiling lit by a lamp above his head. He blinked, sitting up with a small grimace. All that had happened – it was a bad dream. That's all it was. He glanced around the room, noticing the dark haired gunman leaning against the wall. Vincent Valentine.

The redhead groaned, shaking his head. Not a dream -damn it. ". . . What the fuck is happening to me?"

"Reno, what happened on your last mission?" Reno blinked.

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

Vincent shook his head. "Answer my question – what do you remember?"

The Turk frowned, trying to think back a few weeks before. "Not much – just that it was successful. . ." Reno gripped his shoulder firmly. " . . . Some kind of animal attacked me – looked like a wolf or something." He glanced at Vincent confused. "Why would you ask me-?"

"It wasn't an animal . . ." The gunman pulled Reno's fingers from his shoulder, undoing the bandage. A black dragon was imprinted in the redhead's skin. " . . . Just as I thought . . ."

"If it wasn't an animal, then what the hell was it?"

Vincent gave a silent sigh. ". . . You've been possessed."

"Possessed?" The Turk swallowed, his gaze at his blood-less hands. Possessed – yes, my little Turk . . . you're mine – putting up a fight, well you know where that got you . . .

"Yes . . . but, unlike myself, without any sort of control."

". . . Y-You mean to tell me . . . that thing that bit me . . ." Reno felt ill. "Fuck . . ." The redhead dropped his head into his hands. "Isn't there something you can do to get rid of it?"

"No . . ." Vincent's crimson eyes scanned the symbol. ". . . There's nothing I can do. I'm not an expert in exorcisms. "

"Don't you know anyone who does?"

The ex-Turk shook his head. "I'm afraid not . . ."

Reno groaned, feeling the same sharp twinge of pain. "Valentine, there's has to be some way to get rid of it. . ." He grimaced, the same burning sensation flowing through his body. " . . . Shit . . ."

Don't be so hasty, Turk . . . Reno forced himself to get up, despite the growing spasms of white hot pain. I won't ever let go of you . . .

"Reno ?"

". . . Valentine . . ." The redhead collapsed to the floor, coughing up blood. " . . . Help . . ."

Your little cries and pleas for help won't save you . . . Reno couldn't understand the gunman –the demon's voice drowned out Vincent's. Standing up on a weak swaying balance, the redhead managed to get to the hallway before collapsing on the floor. The Turk knew he was losing control. It didn't matter what he did – the moment he lost consciousness, he couldn't account for his actions.

You belong to me – no one else can save you now, my Turk . . .