Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII or any of the characters, places or concepts therein.
***
Don't think that I can take another empty moment
Don't think that I can fake another hollow smile
It's not enough just to be lonely
Don't think that I could take another talk about it
~
Matchbox 20, "Bed Of Lies"Elena of the Turks sat in a dull chair in a dull room in the dreary city of Junon. An untouched mug of coffee long gone cold sat before her, all alone on the glass coffee table. She stared at it, wondering how she had ever come to be so dependant upon the existence of a person who was no more.
Looking away from the curding coffee, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror opposite her and winced internally. Externally she stared blankly at the un-brushed, lank mass of blonde hair tucked behind one ear and at how pale her skin seemed in the grey light of day. Mascara had run on tracks made by her tears, wavering lines from her eyes past her trembling lips to end abruptly as they dropped off her chin. Her collar was probably stained with it, she thought absently. The pouches under the young woman's eyes were almost as dark as the mascara runnels. At any other time, she would have been mortified at her appearance, and what sort of disgrace she must look like to her fellow Turks. (Well, except Reno, of course.) Now she just couldn't bring herself to care. Every time she closed her eyes, there Tseng lay in her mind's eye, still and wounded and out of her helpless reach for all time. How could she care about her appearance when he was gone?
Her shoulders shook as she let out a choked sob. She had abandoned his body. Reno and Rude had had to drag her out of the crumbling Temple of the Ancients, giving her no choice in the matter, but she had left him there. Tseng had to headstone, nothing that would mark his passing, except for the furrows her fingers and high heels had left as she screamed and flailed against Reno and Rude in an attempt to go back inside. Tseng lay under tonnes of rubble, the once mighty and now broken stone that covered him was his tomb.
No one to remember him but his children. Elena thought bitterly. That was how he had thought of his Turks: gifted children to be taught and trained to the life of a Turk with love and respect, people with new ways of looking at things who should be listened to. Elena had loved the Wutaian with all her heart. He had meant more to her than her own parents had. He had shown her - shown all of them - more understanding and trust than all the rest of the world. He had nurtured each of their dubious talents from near invisibility into power.
And now he was gone.
Reno would be their leader now. Reno the drunkard, the womaniser, the trouble-maker. Reno was the one who would have slept in a dumpster for the rest of his life had it not been for Tseng's guidance. He was the older brother Elena had never had before the Turks. His earlier resentment of his 'replacement' had dissolved into a teasing, belittling affection. Elena knew she could count on him. She smiled, just a little, thinking of Reno. He was street-wise and an experienced fighter, but his clowning around and dumb little accidents were so funny to see. Tseng had never been funny, or had accidents. Not until AVALANCHE and the Temple of the Ancients... she felt a flush of hot rage and glared at her knees.
She would definitely have to get a new suit. This one was torn and smudged with dirt and who knew what else. Elena bet she was the worst out of the three of them - after all, hadn't she been the one clawing desperately at the ground while she tried to go back to Tseng's side? Reno's uniform probably wouldn't show much difference, he wore it so scruffily usually. And Rude... Rude would be as immaculate as ever. Cool, calm and collected, that was Rude. The quiet, thoughtful one who always, without fail, saw deeper than you thought he might. Unobtrusive, fiercely intelligent and ready for everything. No matter how coolly calculating he was, though, Rude was not a leader. He complimented a leader's abilities with his own, and knew how to take orders. Or rather, Elena reflected, he knew which orders to take. She knew he had rarely, if ever, doubted Tseng. She wondered if the same would hold true for Reno.
She wondered whether she would be able to take orders from Reno. They had always been more or less equal. He was loud and brash, and always thought he knew what was right. He was not gently confident as Tseng had been, but arrogantly so. Reflecting on her partners left Elena wondering, not for the first time, what on the Planet she was doing in the Turks. She was the optimist, most of the time. She laughed softly and bitterly to herself and leaned back in her chair to stare at the ceiling with dark brown eyes that bled pain. "I guess I'm just the comic relief." The words sounded too quiet in the room. She had been alone too long in this crappy little bedroom, crying until she had no tears left. She was so tired, but she dared not sleep lest the nightmare of Tseng's death returned to haunt her.
There was nothing you could have done.
"I know." She muttered to the empty room as she reached out for her brush. She tugged it through her hair and set the locks in order once more.
Not everyone is gone.
"Reno and Rude are still with me." Elena agreed as she washed the tears' mascara footprints from her face. She looked into the mirror and saw that her pain no longer poured from the dark brown orbs. She smiled at herself gingerly, and saw a genuine seed of good humour there. So she was not beyond saving. That was good. She smiled again, bringing more cheer to her face. That was better. I'm the optimist. This is my job. This is what everyone would expect of me if it hadn't been Tseng, so it has to be this way because it was Tseng, as well. I'm the one who has to move on. The thought put her in a determined mood. She'd cheer everyone up or die trying.
He believed you could achieve what you set out to do.
"We still have to track Sephiroth down."
You can still avenge him.
"I'll make them pay for you, Tseng." Elena vowed aloud, straightening her tattered jacket. She closed her eyes briefly and, against all nature, sent a quick prayer to Tseng and to the Planet. "You can rest easy, now."
She unlocked her door. Reno had passed out on the tiny couch, having attempted to drink away his sorrows. She grimaced - she bet he'd hurt even worse with the hangover he'd have.
Rude looked back from where he stood by the balcony. His eyes were veiled, as always, by those impenetrable dark glasses. If he was surprised to see her, he gave no indication of it. "Elena," he acknowledged her with a nod.
Elena smiled slightly and walked quietly past him onto the balcony. "Hi Rude." She replied in as cheerful a tone as she could manage. The bald Turk had to duck in order to follow her onto the balcony. "Never make 'em tall enough for you, do they, Rude?" Elena asked, almost sympathetically. Another corner of her mind stomped its foot and sulked. I don't even come up to his waist. It complained. Rude made no reply to her quip, but she was used to that.
"When do you think we'll be moving out?" She asked, more soberly this time. Rude considered, leaning on the railing. It squeaked in protest, and Elena flinched back, eyes wide as she stared at the rusty thing supporting her friend.
"Reno will wake up in a couple of hours. Then he'll inhale alcohol again until either you or I explain that he can't do that until his pain goes away. Then he'll sulk. And then he'll get bored, and we'll move out tomorrow morning, or the next day." Rude predicted. Elena snorted.
"I hope it's you. I hate playing the 'Don't, it's bad for you!' game with Reno." She told him. There was a pause as her mind lingered on Rude's dire words. Then, "Rude?"
"......?"
"How did you make the pain go away?" She knew she sounded like a lost child, but she wasn't sure she cared. Despite her earlier promise to herself, her voice was trembling, getting higher and squeakier as she tried once again to stifle tears.
The railing creaked again as Rude straightened. Elena thought he would walk away silently and leave her to her tears, but he lay a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at his face, his glasses were gone. His eyes were the same shade of green as Reno's, only a little darker.
"What makes you think that it's gone, Elena?" he replied. "It's still here. I know Tseng would tell us to forget him and do our jobs. So I don't forget - I store." His eyes dulled slightly. "Maybe next time I look at it, it won't hurt so much."
Elena stared at him for a moment, then looked out at the seemingly brighter Junon sky. Behind her, Reno fell off the couch and let out a string of amazingly clear profanity in his sleep. She knew she would remember Tseng forever, but her hopelessness stopped here.
***
A/N: I know, I know, I should be concentrating on my other fics, and I haven't even played FFVII all the way through yet - or even up to this part of the game. But I knew that Tseng died and I knew that the Turks would take the loss differently. I wanted to explore that. Please review!