of course I don't own the TURKs. Or anything else SQUENIX owns. Also, I hate wangst. I dunno why I wrote this- it was a while back xx
Headache's gone. S'bright and it doesn't hurt the eyes, but he still can't see yet. Little crazy, girly kinda smell. Not too bad, though... reminds him of...
"Mama?"
A giggle. "Why does everyone think that?" Okay, maybe not so much.
"Change the perfume then, babe."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Hear ya, check. Smell ya, check... why can't I see you?"
"You will when you open your eyes."
It mostly depended on the body's reaction to the sudden absence of geostigma. There were few cases, most of them latent. There was no way around it, if it happened to someone, except to pretty much strap them down and wait for the chemical imbalance to putter out so the victim could return to normal. Fully healed.
They would go berserk, in essence. The sense of right and wrong was replaced by irrational rage and the need to take it out on anything in the vicinity that could make noise. The body would become faster, but weaker- easy to restrain, if you knew what was happening. From what witnesses of the strain could see, it only lasted a couple of days. Couple of days of sedatives, restraint, whatever was available... worked like a charm, if you knew what was going on, or had the common sense to try whether you knew or not.
Some cases were latent. There was generally no way to tell until it happened. There was no foresight to maybe keep the victims of geostigma under wraps for awhile- nobody on the planet knew how to handle a plague. It wasn't like it was a disease, either- the brain was just overdosing on something it needed while neglecting something else, because it didn't know it wasn't fighting a disease anymore. And when it happened in this case, it was one of those 'it can't happen to me' cases. Until it did.
Rude sat on the padded bench next to the window and sighed, running the ball of his thumb over the restraining cuff on his other wrist. Tseng would be back from Wutai in six hours to assess the situation and decide from there. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen at all. He was supposed to be home by now, sleeping off a bodyguarding detail. Sharing a beer with his partner. Rude squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head against one of the bars over the window.
"Are you kidding? I'm S'POSED to be down the other side! What makes me a good guy all of a sudden?"
"Sorry! I don't make the rules, but as fun as you've been with us so far, maybe you'll be the court jester."
"Oh, come on. I'm not a comedian, I'm a fuckin' hitman. I thought you guys didn't like that kinda shit."
"Right and wrong are a lot different than what everyone out there thinks they are."
"Yeah? So everythin' I am is good?"
"Not everything... but you're better than you think you are."
"Dunno how y'figure on that, but I ain't complainin'. So are there any good bars around here?"
"Maybe that's what you're here to do." A light laugh.
It would have been like any other babysitting trip, right? The President was cured and wished to make a public announcement in Junon regarding the restoration of the planet. No big deal. Not for the TURKs, anyway. President, bodyguard, pilot and lookout- it would be a quick publicity trip and they'd be back home in time to pick up the paperwork from the mailbox.
Until the President went batshit in the elevator. For no reason at all, he turned on Reno, who'd just made an offbeat joke about some bar they used to hit in downtown Junon. It wasn't even an insult. Reno had no idea what was going on, but did his best to neutralize the outburst. He got a bullet in the chest for his troubles, even part of his throat ripped open before Rude retrieved the firearm and then, panicking, accidentally snapped the president's neck. Thanks to his new air conditioning system, Reno didn't even have the vocal cords to ask what the fuck had just happened before he was gone.
When the elevator was next summoned, Rude was found on his knees with a dead man in his lap, another one flung against the mirrored wall like a broken doll, and the president's gun in one limp hand. He was sedated, taken to Midgar and restrained in solitary confinement immediately. He made no move to fight it- you lose control of yourself AND the situation, you're not fit to be in another one like it. The fact that the body of the other TURK only had the immediate fingerprints of the president on him was a small consolation, but didn't help Rude's situation at all.
"WHAT? But he's still-"
"I don't make the rules, remember?"
"Oh, fuck off with the rules, okay? I'm not doin' THAT! He's still GOT a life!"
"You don't have to kill him or anything. You shouldn't really even tell him. Just... be there for him."
"Great. Is THIS why that stupid legend is around?"
"No. You have a purpose. Stories like that were only initiated when other people did stupid things after seeing us."
"He won't do stupid shit. He's smart, y'know. Just 'cause he looks like a hulk doesn't mean-"
"I know."
"...do I have to? I don't know if I got it in me t'cry anymore."
"You don't have to cry."
"Isn't there a way to keep it from happening? I can't warn him, take him somewhere else, something?"
"It's his choice as much as yours."
"What are you talking about? He doesn't..."
"Let me show you something."
The cell was colder. It wasn't an uncomfortable cold, nor a creepy kind of cold. It ended up not being the room, even. It was, however, a change that the senses of a TURK would be on red alert for even at the worst of times. Rude looked up and narrowed his eyes at the room in general, listening for an accompanying sound- were they gassing him without the respect of a final word from his boss? Couldn't be- there was no noise beyond his own body and the guard activity outside, no change in the air itself, no extraordinary smells.
The cold settled to his left side, away from the window, before he got a sense of extreme concentration that wasn't his own. The tension in the air was almost the same kind he'd felt in the past when he and Reno were playing a hard game of pool and Reno was scouring the table for a winning move. His nerves had to be getting to him. The cold moved away a little and sighed... Sighed? He turned to his left and glared at the corner of the bench against the wall. Maybe he was hearing things.
And then, just to make sure he was thoroughly off the deep end, the air rippled just a little bit around the sound of a muffled word. A word coming from the wall. The guilt... had to be doing some weird shit to him. Reno was sitting pretty now, leaning against the wall with a grin as cocky as ever, if a little blurry around the edges.
"Hey, baby. What time you get off work?"
If Rude had a drink to spare, he'd gulp it just so he could spit it out in shock.
"...shit."
"Now do you see why you can't?"
"Him an' his fuckin' rulebooks- coulda broken outta that shit anytime. I didn't even REMEMBER how I died, y'know?"
"I know. Most of us don't, but you guys are... a special case."
"...I don't wanna see him go. We ain't no Lenny and George, yeah? He doesn't make mistakes like that."
"I know."
"I... I love him, man. He's supposed to be the one who always gets out alive and then if I don't... he retires and opens a bar in our honor, right?"
"Maybe another time."
"What the shit? You act like we're practicing lines for a movie or something! Like we can just take down the set and fuckin' try again?"
"You'll understand someday."
"So you're... a ghost." This had to be the hundredth time Rude had repeated it, but it was still hard to wrap his mind around. Four hours had seen him ignoring the spectre, yelling at it for being the embodiment of his guilt, trying to punch it and hitting the wall instead, and finally, dubiously conversing with it. The guards had to be having a field day.
"For the last time, bro, yeah. I mean, I dunno, there was some fancy shit they called it, but that's the gist." The 'ghost' stretched out comfortably on the bench and ran a hand through its hair. It was Reno's size, had Reno's mannerisms, even looked almost solid- except for a faint turquoise tint around the corners here and there, almost the color of his eyes.
Rude frowned, huddling into himself on the floor. As creepy as it was, something felt comfortable about the encounter. He felt less naked for lack of his shades and suit with the apparition here to yak about anything else. He'd only felt this comfortable around Reno. Even left to his own devices in the cell at first, trying to remember the good times, he didn't catch the comfort from the past, but here it was. "Don't ghosts only come around when they have unfinished business or when someone's gonna die?"
The vision frowned a little from the left side of its mouth- in just that way Reno used to frown when he was keeping something from Rude. Eventually, he shrugged. "Hell should I know? I mean, I died on the job, right? Maybe I'm comin' back to finish my job an' get paid, something stupid like that. I'll figure it out. Just wanna hang out with you for awhile, though." It raised an arm to stare at its hand, flexing fingers back and forth curiously. "Think we can touch if I'm dead?"
Rude snorted. "Don't need to eat or breathe, but you get horny just fine?"
"What are you talkin' about? I just... I need a hug, man."
"..."
"I can't do this. I can't watch that. Not him. Please."
"I really am sorry you-"
"Please." Desperate clutching.
"I know, sweetheart. You're doing this for you both, though."
Silence.
"Don't you think he'd rather see you first?"
"...never thought of it that way."
"I know."
"Kinda... kinda makes it worth it, that way. And he... he's gonna be right here with me when it's done, yeah? Promise?"
"Of course." Never has such a badass felt so comforted by such a disgustingly girly thing like a hug from a girl before. First time for everything, he guesses.
"When do I have to go?"
"Hold your breath."
"What? But I'm dead, I can't breathe!"
"Shhh."
A weird kind of wrenching, right around the solar plexus. What the hell?
It was weird, at first. It took a lot more concentration on Reno's part, apparently, than on Rude's. The sensation had gone from that of sticking one's hand in front of a fog machine to holding an armful of not-quite-done gelatin, and finally to touching a person- intermittently. Here and there, the form phased back into fog, but would return to whatever it was within seconds. For once, Reno wasn't interested in yapping, and for some reason, there was urgency to his affection. When Reno did talk, he talked about when they'd be together at home, running a brand new bar down the street, screw ShinRa regulations. Rude guessed that reincarnation was an option, apparently. For a while, he almost forgot that he was locked in a cell. They remained this way, talking and then eventually just thinking at each other, for the last couple of hours before Tseng would arrive.
And then it was time. It became obvious that Reno was invisible and intangible to anyone else as guards entered the room and reached through him to pull Rude up and out. Rude went willingly, albeit with fear in his naked eyes. He could feel Reno trying to hold onto his arm as he was led to Tseng's office where, at the man's bidding, he was released and ushered to sit down. Tseng sat behind his desk, expressionless eyes poring over a report. He did not look at Rude as he spoke, his voice just as devoid as his face.
"I am informed that there was an altercation this morning, resulting in the death of two people in your presence."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you anything to say in your defense?"
'I didn't mean to' sounded so trite. "I... I couldn't... hurt Reno if I tried... sir." Cold almost-hands over his shoulders, and it wasn't even a voice anymore. Head high, buddy. You're still one of us.
"I am aware that you were not responsible for his death. I am curious, however, as to how Reno provoked such an act from the president, and what brought you to take brute force against him as a result."
Rude shook his head. "Reno mentioned a bar in Junon, nothing out of the ordinary. The president just..."
"Went berserk?"
"...yeah. Sir."
"No need to address me formally, Rude." That suggestion brought a slight chill around Rude's ears. Tseng was formality, head to toe. Reno slipped around to sit on the edge of the desk, eyes downcast as he listened. Tseng paused and glanced to Reno's immediate left, feeling a slight off and chill. "I was attending a conference regarding a rare aftereffect of geostigma. Those who snap in such a manner need only be restrained. It is a very temporary effect." He shuffled one paper behind another uneasily.
"I was attempting to disarm the president, sir, before he could-" And there, Rude choked. The last several hours hadn't happened, he couldn't feel or hear the phantom before him, and he was back in the elevator. "I had n-no intention of... of..."
"I did not assume you would have one, Rude. You are not a man to turn against the tide of order. However, I was sent the security feed from the elevator and studied it carefully." He set the papers down and steepled his hands below his chin, stone gaze on Rude's face. His voice dropped to a nearly inaudible rumble. "You are not the only one who has lost today. You have not lost what the rest of the planet has. You..."
The continued talk became a painful buzz. Rude stared at the floor, despite the whispered assurances in his mind. And then they stopped, drowned in the buzz of reprimand. Rude was aware of a sick feeling in his stomach that wasn't his. Suddenly, Reno cupped his face and turned it up to look into- through- those intoxicating nearly-there blues.
"Rude, listen to me. Look at me, baby. He's just blowing off steam, okay? Things'll get better, I'ma be here, you'll be fine. LOOK at me. Rude- Hey, Rude- jus' remember I'm here. Don't look at me like that, Rude, please. Won't really hurt much, you'll be okay." And before he could ask, suddenly Reno's face was against his, inside his, trying to kiss, but the form was shaken. Rude felt the gelatin slipping through his brain at the same time cool arms wrapped protectively around his head. "As long as you remember I'm here an' I love you," he could hear a frightened voice somewhere between his ears through the confusion. He was interrupted from asking again, this time by a silenced shot.
Tseng stood from his chair, a scowl seeping into his features and bitter pain welling up in his eyes as the guard he'd nodded to moments before stepped back against the wall, holstering a gun. "You haven't lost nearly as much as I have," he murmured to the man slumped over the edge of his desk, blood seeping outward beneath his face.
Headache's gone. It's bright, but it doesn't hurt the eyes. Still can't see yet. Kind of lazy, sweaty sort of smell. Not too bad, though... reminds him of...
"...Reno?"
A chuckle. "Why's everyone think that?"
"...your deodorant sucks."
"I'll keep that in mind, buddy. Come on, s'time to head to the bar."
"Can't see ya..."
"C'mon. We're home. S'okay to open your eyes now, baby."