Aftermath

It was raining. The heavens were crying and the skies have turned dull and gray.

This reminded him of the time when they finally got home from their uneventful capture. This reminded him of when the illness of their boss has been finally cured.

The rain reminded him so much of many things that he actually lost count. But as he looked upon the descending water droplets, he could not help but feel guilt over his partner.

Though he knew that it was inevitable, a part of him still hoped and wished that he could have done something; anything to alleviate the burdens heavily pressed upon her.

At that moment, as he sat comfortably on his inclining chair and occasionally sipped on some tea, the rain merely irritated him.

The loud knock on his door showed no decency whatsoever and he had to frown at that. With a flat tone he bade his obnoxious visitor in.

"Yo!" The greeting made him grimace inwardly. He stood from his chair and turned to the red haired Turk.

His lips were kept in a taut line. The red haired male was sure to find something wrong if his behavior was in any way different.

"Boss and Rude went out to meet a client somewhere…" the red haired Turk said informatively, but his tone was anything but respectful. Though he was not one to complain, he admitted that he preferred the respectful tone that his previous partner graced him with. It sounded better compared to the brusque tone of this man standing before him.

"Why aren't you with them then?" The ebony haired man asked as he placed his cup of tea on the table before him.

"I'm not supposed to follow yet…" the fire haired man replied as he shifted his weight on one leg and slid his hand into his pocket."The client might get suspicious," he added.

"What are you doing here then?"

"I figured it'd be best to kill time with you, Tseng…"

A slight frown made its way to the other man's face. It was merely a slight curve of the corners of his lips downwards, but it was enough to convey his displeasure when the other mentioned his name.

"Reno," he started patiently but was interrupted rudely.

"It was raining then wasn't it?" The red haired man, Reno, said with a cognitive grin. "The day we left Elena was just like today; don't you think so, Tseng?"

Tseng, after having his name repeated over and over again in such an informal manner, narrowed his eyes to emphasize his anger. However, he chose to keep his peace. The leader of the Turks knew better than to lose his temper.

Of course, he was aware that Reno was particularly close with his previous partner, but he could not understand where the red haired Turk was coming from.

"Why suddenly bring her up?"

"You miss her don't you, Tseng?"

He detested how his name simply rolled off the other's tongue. It lacked the respect that he was supposed to give. He silently admonished himself for being unreasonable. He had been working with the red haired Turk for a long time and he knew better than to make out anything about Reno's tone.

But he could not help but yearn for a certain female's voice calling him 'Tseng-san' with much reverence, like he was some divine being.

Indeed he is becoming unreasonable.

But so was Reno.

"Should you really be concerned about what I think Reno?" The Turk leader asked.

Reno gave a shrug. "Does that question trouble you Tseng?"

"I am not in the mood to discuss such trivial matters," he stated.

The rain outside became stronger and louder as well. Reno released another shrug and said, "I'll be leaving then..."

For once Tseng was thankful for the silence. He sat back down his chair and sighed. His tea had gotten cold and bland.

It was something new. His tea never went cold or bland. In fact his tea was always pleasant and flavorful. He released another sigh.

He watched as the droplets fell onto the window pane. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get out of the suffocating cage he was subjected into staying.

He had known that it was coming. He had known it the moment she nearly jumped out in horror when he handed her his gun.

Her eyes had shown fear, something that was completely foreign to the likes of them. She had shown reluctance towards something that had been her constant companion for so long. She had shown weakness; it was something that was unforgivable.

Her weakness had caused her to be discarded. He knew that she had seen it coming. He had seen how she accepted what would be her future. He knew that she knew that they were going to leave her.

She had easily accepted it as a fact. And as a result, they moved without her.

He could still remember how she jumped at the sight of the gun like it was some sort of epidemic. He could still remember how she collapsed when one of her wounds started bleeding.

The wound would have been enough but when she drew away from the gun with terror in her eyes, they all knew that she could no longer serve her purpose as a Turk.

He listened closely to the sound of fading footsteps. He waited to make sure that the mischievous red haired Turk was out of sight and hearing.

Mentally he counted but eventually he got tired of waiting and quickly made his way out of the villa they currently lived in.

As usual he only grabbed what he might and will need his coat, his silver pistol and the keys he overheard Reno say was a key to their previous abode.

He made second thoughts of bringing the keys along but knowing the vulgar Turk, his information might prove to be beneficial indeed.

The rain provided him with the cover of darkness to prevent the eyes of Shinra from spotting him. Though at that moment, he did not care even if the eyes of the President were to see him as he left with no apparent reason.

The leader of the Turks walked through the throng of people that sought shelter from the pouring rain. His head slowly got soaked as he lingered.

The path that he took was not foreign to him but it also wasn't one that he often took. He was merely retracing the steps he took the same day they left her.

After climbing two flights of stairs, he walked to the leftmost door and made a hesitant pause.

The door was the one thing that stood before him and her. Hesitation and reluctance made their way into his brain and anyone who knew Tseng knew that the director of the Turks had no hesitation or reluctance whatsoever.

He fished the key out of his pocket and stared at it for quite some time. After releasing a sigh he finally fit the key into the keyhole and opened the door.

Perhaps the red haired Turk was reliable after all.

The faint scent of blood filled his nose and made him alert. Had there been a fight? More importantly, is she safe?

The fact that he was able to unlock the door without a disturbance finally dawned at him. She was not lax; that much he knew. She might have pointed a deadly weapon beside his temple by now, but the only thing he got was the deafening silence.

He investigated further. The bedroom was otherwise empty and the bathroom showed no indication that someone is inside.

A trash bin caught his attention.

It was filled to the brim with nigrescent bloodied bandages. He assumed that those were the source of the faint smell.

The house was still tidy. Every single thing was in order, just like she is. He could not help but wonder where she is.

He sighed and prepared to leave when his ears caught wind of the soft sound of hurried footsteps.

Although he had a fairly good idea of who was coming, he still readied his gun. He hid right beside the door's hinges. He held his breath and kept still.

The jangling of keys came after the footsteps. He heard a sigh of relief.

The doorknob clicked. If Elena was truly the one who resided there now then she may already know that someone is inside her house. He put the safety on his gun after all; he had no intention of shooting his former partner.

As soon as the door swung open, he pointed his gun to where her forehead would be. He was baffled to see that the muzzle of his gun met air.

He glanced down and saw her crouching down and preparing to plant a strike to his chin. He saw it coming and moved back.

When her palm met air she rushed to the intruder (who used to be her superior). She learned martial arts before she entered the Shinra Military Academy and though she used a gun most if the times, she still knew how to live without one.

He foresaw the attack and blocked her fists with his palms and promptly grabbing them in the process.

Finally she turned to her prey. Her brown eyes flashed with anger but it was replaced in an instant when her mind registered who it was she attacked.

"Tseng-san..." she softly said.

He gave a small grunt of response and released her fists. He stood up straight and notes the clothes she was wearing.

It was a loose long-sleeved gray top. Black pants and sneakers completed the rest of her clothing.

He also mentally noted the bulk evident on her forearms.

"I am sorry..." she said."I didn't realize that it was you who came here..."

"There is no need for apologies," he told her. "I was the one who came without telling you anything."

She nodded weakly as she gestured him to the couch. "I'll make some tea."

He could not ask for more. The director of the Turks nodded at her and watched as she disappeared into the kitchen.

He sat in silence save for the sound of steam and the rattling of the kettle lid against the brim. He knew how she made tea just as she knew how he liked his tea.

She emerged from the kitchen with a tray with two cups of steaming tea on it. Even the aroma was just the way he liked it. He hid his pleasure at smelling the familiar smell of the tea that he was so fond of. After all, that is what he does best.

"How is everyone?" she asked as her fingers wrapped around one of the cups and placed it before him.

He recognized the cup almost too immediately. It was the same cup he always used when they still resided there. It used to have the shine of pure white porcelain, but its luster disappeared with time.

Like the company he served so loyally.

The blue ink that formed intricate spirals and curves started to fade from the cup's surface. His hand tingled the moment he touched the small cup.

He was so overcome by such a tiny detail that he almost forgot the question directed at him.

"Rufus is on a mission with the twins," he replied as the sweet ambrosia came to his lips, tickled his tongue and came down his throat. He suppressed a sound of approval and pleasure at the taste. He contined afterwards, "They are meeting a client."

"For Shinra's reconstruction, I suppose?" she remarked which earned a nod from the director. "Things have been going smoothly," he told her.

Tseng had developed a habit to drink tea without conscious consent and now he finds the tea to be rather appetizing. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he missed this kind of concoction that his unconscious habit has become direr in some aspects.

"How about you?" he watched her with a cautious eye. Before she could even reply, he already knows that she isn't in a favorable position.

She inclined her head and gave a nod. "I've been working at the Seventh Heaven ever since you left," she told him as she took a sip of her own tea.

"Ms. Lockhart?" The Turk director recalled the raven haired young woman who my looking after the lone wolf.

Elena gave a nod. "It has become increasingly popular nowadays."

He made a sound of affirmation from the back of his throat and continued sipping his tea.

"Elena."

She turned to him with a questioning look on her face and at that moment, he already forgot what it was he wanted to tell her. He shook his head, "Never mind..."

The two of them rarely made small talk. It was purely due to the fact that they never had the time for small talk; most of their conversations were all about their jobs and their missions. Silence was better shared with them, except for once.

Except for when they were captured and tortured by the three remnants of Enova.

But that time was a whole different matter entirely.

She placed her cup down and turned to her former superior and said "Excuse me Tseng-san."

He watched her as she trudged towards the kitchen and presumably, to the bathroom.

There is something amiss. The Turk director could feel it with every breath she took.

Tseng was not one to completely forget someone even after they part. It actually works in reverse for him.

He followed her. His steps were slow, and calculated. The last thing he wanted to do was to let her know that he was following her with a concerned mentality.

Sure enough he found her holding onto the kitchen counter like it was a lifeline. She looked like she was steadying herself. She swayed uncharacteristically.

Before he even knew it, he dashed forward and caught her by the shoulders before she could fall on her back.

"Tseng-san..." she looked up to him.

Without another word, he slung her left arm across his shoulder and he assisted her to her bedroom.

Gently he placed her on her bed. She sighed heavily.

"Do what you came here for."

He was surprised by her statement. Though, he clearly heard the resentment in her tone, he could not help but wonder what she meant by it.

"Elena,"

"Tseng-san," she interjected slowly as her breaths became heavier. "Please don't make it harder than it already is."

He stared at her sternly. It was the same stare he gives her whenever he wants her to listen to him. "Elena," he started softly and sternly, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Didn't the boss send you here to dispose of me?"

Realization dawned at him. He silently admonished himself for overlooking that possible reason. Of course, no Turk has ever been allowed to leave the organization and live. Sooner or later, someone will come to dispose of them.

He released a heavy sigh. He turned to her but his words got caught up in his throat and his brain would not let him form a coherent thought.

"Elena…" he earned a wince from her. Another sigh escaped his lips as he continued, "I was not asked to dispose of you."

She neither looked at him nor graced him with a glance. He took it as a sign that she does not believe him.

Was it really that hard to believe that the director of the Turks was simply visiting a former comrade and nothing more?

He found it to be a fact because currently, Elena did not believe a single word he said.

"Do you really think that I always act only with the President's orders?"

She turned to him with an expression that said it all. She did not believe that he would simply come without an order from Rufus Shinra who she knew, Tseng revered so much.

"Have you really come to see me as a dog of Shinra?" His voice had a hint of bitterness in it. "Surely you know me better than most people considering the span of time we spent together."

She turned away from his gaze.

The entire situation was absurd. Usually, she was the one who talked and he was the one who listened and responded only with glances; his eyes would always talk in his stead.

"Elena…"

"Why else would you come here?"

Her question was in need of an answer.

"I came here to see you," he replied simply, like it was a given fact that she did not even need to ask.

"That sounds absurd coming from you, Tseng-san…"

He sighed in resignation. It was hard to reason with her when she is upset.

"Elena," he said again. Her name was like forgotten sweet honey on his lips. "If I had been tasked to dispose of you, I would have done so the moment I got here. You know that I'm not one to take my time regarding orders especially if it came from the Boss."

She graced him with a side glance. The Turk director could see the surrender in her brown eyes.

"Do you believe me now?" He asked with masked anguish in his deep voice.

She nodded meekly. "Even if you did come to dispose me, I would have accepted that as I accepted how the Boss decided to leave me here..."

He could not help but smile. She was a real Turk at heart. But a part of him wished that she wasn't.

"How are you?" He repeated his question to emphasize that he did not believe her previous answer.

She turned to him with an apologetic expression on her porcelain face.

Before she could make a coherent thought, he seized her hand and pushed back the sleeve of her gray top. She protested in the form of a weak cry. Fortunately for him, she wasn't as strong as she used to be.

Sure enough, he saw bandages wrapped around her arm. A faint brown stained the fibrous white of the cloth. He narrowed his eyes at the sight. He lifted his other hand to unwrap the bandages; earned a dreary protest from her, "Don't..."

He gave her a sideway glance. Something told him that he shouldn't pry any further, lest he might scar her more than she already is.

With reluctance, he dropped his hand onto the bed. He gently put her hand down with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."

She sat up while using her arm to support her. It was with great difficulty that she did it, but she did so nonetheless.

This time, she rolled her sleeves herself. Again his eyes met the bandages that held her secret.

"I never expected this," she said softly "I didn't expect you, of all people to come back and see how I'm doing."

Silently, she removed the bandages around her arms. Layer after layer, he could vaguely make out a scar on her arm. She mournfully continued with what she was doing until it was completely gone.

A wound was on her arm. It started from the side of her wrist to her elbow. The skin at the side of the lesion was red and some were even peeled off. There was no clotting present whatsoever, only a raw gash.

Tseng cringed, but it was not out of disgust. The Turk director had seen more disgusting sights other than her arm.

His reaction was due to the fact that he knew the story behind her wound. "It still hasn't healed?" His tone was anything but rueful even if it was what he truly felt.

She shook her head to highlight the obvious. "They did something to it," she said "While the long haired one made the cut, he put a spell on it."

He could remember it well. He could remember how he was forced by the bulky one to sit face to face with his blonde comrade as the ruthless long haired one tortured her and the mad-looking one asked him with the same question he refused to answer over and over again.

He could still hear the scraping of the blade against her skin. He could still hear the muffled scream that came out as a soft cry from her lips. He could still remember how her blood flashed before his eyes but he was powerless to even come to her side.

Helplessness was his companion for as long as they stayed there.

And now he stood face to face with the aftermath of what had transpired. He saw what she was suffering from. He saw what had become of her because of the unforeseen things.

"Has it been like this since then?" He sounded like he was rather afraid to know.

Her answer was a simple one, yet it made his already-frozen heart sink to his knees. Her nod broke his heart.

He could not deny that she has already made her place in his heart. He could not deny that his heart had a sharp pang when he heard her muffled cries of pain.

He could not deny that he has already grown fond of her through the countless times they have been together.

"What about your other arm?" He will admit that he was rather afraid to find out. He could vaguely remember how she got bruised while trying to protect him.

Elena shook her head and said, "It's numb..."

"I see..." he could not say anything more. He felt guilt, above all emotions. He was the reason why they got captured, why they were put in the face of tremendous pain and misery; why she was broken like this.

"Tseng-san?"

How he missed the manner she addressed him with such high regard and respect. He missed how she took precisely careful aim with her gun. He missed how she fussed around to prepare him tea.

And above all, he missed her as Elena.

"I am sorry..."

His words took her by surprise.

"Tseng-san, why are you apologizing?"

He did not meet her gaze and clasped her hand. "This would not have happened if I had been more careful back then..." he remorsefully said.

Elena shook her head and reached for the bandages that were beside Tseng. "It wasn't your fault..." she said softly, "If anything, I was glad you were with me when that time came..."

His hand was on hers before she could even grab the wasted bandages. It was a command for her to yield; she could clearly see it in her eyes. She waited.

"I'll do it..." he said flatly. It wasn't a command. He was no longer her superior so naturally, he could not command her to yield anymore.

But the blonde haired girl knew that even without trying at all, he could command anyone, much less a former subordinate.

She nodded, though there never really was a need for her reply. He wrapped the fresh bandages around her wounded and currently untended scar that will probably remain forever.

It will remain as a reminder for her of the blackest days of her life.

It will remain as a reminder of what he could not do for her.

It will remain as a reminder of this aftermath.

Tseng finished wrapping the bandages and turned to the blonde once more. She was still staring at the arm that he had just wrapped with the new tampon.

"Thank you Tseng-san..." she said meekly.

He sighed. "Elena you cannot continue like this."

She nodded with full comprehension. "You did tell me before that there is a difference between cannot and must not," she said, "A Turk must do what he cannot do and he must not do anything other than the impossibility asked."

He fought back a smile of pride after hearing the young woman's words because he does not want her to cling to lofty ideals and mighty people that have both abandoned her rather cruelly.

"You are no longer a Turk," he stated plainly, "Why hold on to those ideals when they've abandoned you easily?"

She smiled at him. "Those ideals have helped me become 'Elena', the girl that became your partner for quite some time..."

He did not understand why she held fast onto the principles of Turks, but when she said those words with such a strong conviction in her tone, he saw how much she'd grown from being a headstrong and careless rookie to the woman that she is now.

"Tseng-san..." she called softly as she fell to a more comfortable position on her bed.

The Turk director turned to her inquiringly.

"Thank you Tseng-san..." she said with a weary smile.

He sighed. "I have not done anything worthy of your thanks."

The blonde Turk released a small smile. "Are you leaving soon, Tseng-san?"

Without his prior control, his hand reached out to hers. He would forever be reminded of the awful scar that will accompany her all her life. He would never forget how she had been hurt; half of it is his fault.

"Get some rest." It wasn't a command. "I'll lock the door when I leave," he told her.

A slightly hopeless expression clouded her face and he guesses that it was due to the fact that he would leave her again. "Will you come back Tseng-san?"

He knew what his answer is. "Of course." He stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Get some rest. I promise I'll come back."

And he vowed to take care of her until the day he is allowed to.

With a sigh she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. He stood up and bent down towards her, brushed off the pale blonde locks on her forehead and kissed the exposed skin.

Outside, the rain had already stopped and stilled. For Tseng, breaking the rules to see his former partner and subordinate had been an eye-opener regarding Elena's aftermath.

And perhaps along the way he had learned to admit the depth of his affection for her.

Hello fanfcition reader!

This is actually my first Final Fantasy 7 fic...

I'm a very random person so I like a lot of things...

I've read a lot of fanfictions regarding the capture of Elena and Tseng at the Northern Crater so I came to wonder if perhaps something that came from that incident caused a drastic change and POOF! This fic came to life! =D

Anyway please do not hesitate to click the REVIEW button and feel free to convey your deepest; darkest thoughts regarding the fic as it is greatly appreciated... =D

Thanks for reading!

God bless you! =D

chquine_harvinellisse