Two Years Ago
She had vomited her guts out when she heard. Reno had held her hair back for her, hiding his own pain in helping his teammate. Rude had just stared at Reeve through those unreadable sunglasses.
It had hit them like a ton of bricks when the executive told them: Tseng was dead. Run through by that impossibly long sword Sephiroth wielded. He had told the Turks first, out of respect for the fact that he'd been their friend and leader.
And, though the news had made her physically ill, Elena appreciated that Reeve had given them that much.
That night, they sat in Rude's apartment together trying to figure it all out. Elena couldn't escape the feeling that her whole world was gone, and she didn't think she would ever find it again.
Normally, she didn't drink. Couldn't stand alcohol, in fact, but when Reno had put the first beer in her hand, she hadn't protested. In the hopes that being drunk would help some, she had worked her way through three more. And come to a horrifying conclusion:
Being drunk did not help ease the pain. From the looks on Reno and Rude's faces, it wasn't helping them either. After this night, the phrase drowning their sorrows would have no more meaning for the three remaining Turks.
None of them knew exactly how long the silence between them lasted, but it was the lifetime of the twenty-four pack that Reno had gotten on the way to the apartment.
Finally, Rude asked, "So what do we do now?"
Reno shook his head and Elena felt more tears welling up in her already aching eyes. "Dunno man. Guess we wait for Rufus to figure out what's goin' on."
She broke into loud racking sobs—for the millionth time that day.
Back in the office, protocol dictated that they couldn't really do anything to help comfort their grieving teammate. But here, in the safety of Rude's home, they could. Reno slid over next to her on the couch and pulled the blond into his arms.
"Shh…It'll be okay, Lena." He hoped he wasn't lying.