Oh wow... This is way darker than I had planned it... But I kinda needed to get out some really depressing inspiration, who knows where it came from. Yeah, very tramatic themes in this one. Alot of child and spouse abuse. I'm not even going to pretend that I know what it's like to be in an abusive situation, but I did my best. I don't say who the character is until the end, but it will be really obviose. Yeah, rated for extream violence (not too graphic though) and cussing. And any spelling or grammer mistakes in the dialog are on purpose.

I only own the made up characters, and one of the names I used from another one of my fics, so y'all can tell how creative with names I am... Everything else belongs to Squeenix. Jk, it's Square Enix


The front door slammed. His mother screamed and cried, holding his brother's limp and broken form.

"…Jet?" he whispered, touching his hand, but pulled back when he found it cold. "Mama? What's wrong with him?"

"He k-killed him!" she sobbed, shaking and rocking back and forth. "That devil man killed my baby!"

"Mama…" he wiped his bleeding nose on his sleeve. "Is he gone for good?"

She didn't reply. Because of coarse, she knew he was coming back. Just like every other time. But this time, Jet wouldn't be there when he came through the door.

oOo

"Be careful out there Baby!"

"Sure Mama," he made his way down the street, skipping around the drunk that was sleeping on the sidewalk. He looked upward at the bottom of the plate above them and wondered what the people up there were doing. His stomach growled. They were probably eating something, he thought. Something really good.

A woman in front of him dropped her handkerchief and bent down to pick it up. Her purse stuck out at an odd angle, unzipped. He thought for a moment. His mother told him that stealing was bad… but she also hadn't been eating for the past week just to make sure he got enough food.

Making a snap decision, he slipped his hand in and out of the purse, pocketing the small handful of bills and entering the nearest shop before the woman had even straightened up.

He counted the money when he was sure she was gone. Six Gil. Not bad for his first lift.

oOo

"He's back…" she whispered, her eyes darting fearfully.

"Mama, I don't want him to come here. Make him go away!"

"Shh… It's okay Baby, I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you," she tried to smile encouragingly at him and failed.

"But he hurts you too," he started to cry, trying to swallow the sobs in his throat. "I don't want him to hurt you Mama."

"Shh… Baby don't cry," she pleaded, tears forming in her own eyes as the sound of heavy footfalls approached the room. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

oOo

"Hey kid!"

He jumped, looking over at the young man leaning against a brick wall. He had dusty brown hair and storm cloud eyes.

"Yeah, I'm talkin ta ya."

"W-what do ya want?" he asked nervously. His mother always told him not to talk to strangers…

"Where'd ya get the shiner?"

"Huh?"

"Black eye, where'd you get it?"

"…Home."

"Really?" the boy looked interested. "You kiddin me?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Well damn kid, come on back here," he jerked his head toward a back alley. "Not just any kid can take a hit like that. Want a smoke?"

"No," he shook his head. Talking to strangers was one thing, but he was even surer that smoking was bad.

"Good for you man," the kid lit a filthy and crooked cigarette. "One thing in my life I'll regret. Listen good kid, don't you ever start smokin."

"Okay."

oOo

"Bitch! This is all your fault!"

She cried out, trying to cover her face. "Get away from me! I didn't do anything!"

"Shut your Goddamn mouth you stupid woman!"

"Stop it!" he tried to pull him back with his tiny hands. But then his father rounded on him, leaving his mother for a moment.

"And you!" the fist was raised and he cringed back.

"No you don't!" his mother stood in front of him, her arms out protectively. "You are not taking another one of my babies from me!"

"Out of my way Bitch!"

She screamed as she was knocked to the floor. He crouched in the corner, sobbing as his father finally left her there and came back at him.

oOo

"So you got any brothers or sisters Kid?"

He shook his head, staring at his shoes. "Had a brother, not anymore though."

"They ever get the guy who did it?"

"…No."

"That sucks, I feel for ya man. This is one messed up place. Up there?" he jerked his head upward at the plate above them. "Someone even gets hit one in the face? They're all over the jerk who done it man, but here… Your own bro gets done in and no one gives two shits. Yer own family man, a kid. But that's what I want ta talk ta ya about. Ya got any family left kid? Ones that don't hit ya?"

"Yeah…" he tried to sound tougher than he felt. "My ma." He thought calling her Mama might make him sound weak.

"That's good. You got no clue how lucky you are to have someone still. Most kids I know, they either got no one, or the ones they got they wish they din't have." He took another drag out of his cigarette. "So that's why we got family out 'ere," he gestured toward the dingy back alley they were standing in. "By the way, the name's Kix. What's yers kid?"

oOo

"Mama?" he dragged himself over to where she was on the floor. "Mama? Are you okay?"

She stirred slightly, opening eyes that were almost swollen shut. "Mmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she sat up, whipping her eyes on the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry Baby…"

"It's okay Mama," he made a face as she tried to wipe a little bit of blood from his lip. "It don't hurt that bad."

"No, it's not. I tried, but he still hurt you," she squeezed her eyes shut, her face pained. "I'm so sorry Baby."

"Don't cry Mama," he tried to sound strong and brave, even though she was usually the one comforting him.

oOo

"So here's the deal Kid," Kix lit another cigarette. "You ever need anything, money, food, someone to watch yer back in a fight, you name it, you got it. All we ask is that you do the same for anyone out here too that asks with the sign." He made a strange symbol with his fingers. "Got that kid? Someone does that and asks for a smoke, and you got one in yer pocket, you give it to 'em. No questions. And same for you to anyone else. Just show 'em the sign and ask. Got that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. It sounded like a good deal to him. "Um, what do I do if they ask for somethin I don't got?"

"Jus tell 'em and they'll ask someone else. Less it's a hand in a fight. That's kind of a givin. Less you got a real good reason. Follow me?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

oOo

"He'll come back… won't he?"

His mother smiled sadly down at him. "I'm afraid so Baby."

"Why can't we move away Mama? Far away where he can't find us anymore?"

She sighed heavily, tucking the torn sheets around her son's too-thin form. "I don't expect you to understand. But when he's here, he pays the rent. It's how we can still stay here. If he didn't come, we'd be out on the streets and have less food than we do now."

"Oh…" he wondered if he should tell her about the deal he had made with Kix and the other street children. He didn't think it was a bad thing, but he could almost see the worried frown on her face and decided not to trouble her with the information. "But…"

"Shhh…" she swept the hair from his forehead and kissed him goodnight. "Sleep now Baby."

"But he killed Je-"

"I know Baby, I know," she tried to fight down the tears in her eyes.

"I hate him." It was the first time he had ever said it out loud. "I want him to end. Just like he did to Jet."

"I hate him too," she wasn't fighting the tears anymore. "But you have to trust me, this is the best we can do right now. Someday, I promise, we'll move far away. In Healin. It's a beautiful place. We'll have a big house with a porch, surrounded by trees and the mountains. And he'll never find us there. Sound good?"

"Yeah," he nodded, it sounded great to him.

oOo

As the five year old, he was the youngest, so they chose him to buy things that would make store clerks suspicious. Jixy, Kix's sister, told him that if he smiled really big, he looked adorable and no one could resist giving him whatever the hell he wanted.

"Just smile at 'em all retarded like you are now and they'll be falling over themselves just to give you candy," she slapped his back. "Just remember, your dad's laid up for a couple weeks so he sent you out to pick up his smokes."

"Yo, hurry up!" Tam flipped his lighter open and closed. "I haven't had a pack in a couple days man, I'm shakin!"

"Go on kid, get the smokes and you can keep anything they give ya free," Kix gave him a gentle shove toward the drug store.

"Okay…" He wasn't sure if this was bad or not. Sure, his mother had told him that lying was bad, and he was pretty sure it was worse that he was doing it to get a pack of cigarettes with money he was fairly certain didn't belong to his friends… But she had looked so relieved and happy when he had brought home a fresh loaf of bread and told her it was from a friend. He hadn't had to lie about that. That was good. But still… he guessed that lying was the price he paid to make things easier for his mother.

"Hey Mister," he hitched up the big retarded smile Jixy had instructed him to use. "Can I buy somethin for my daddy?"

oOo

"Mama… I had a bad dream…" he sniffed. It had been scary.

"Oh come here Baby," she held her arms out and he crawled into her warm embrace, smelling sweat, harsh soap and even traces of blood on her. "Hush little baby don't say a word," she started to sing. He always told her proudly that he was too old for lullabies, but now he was too scared to say anything. He drifted off to sleep, knowing the nightmares couldn't touch him while she sang.

oOo

"Good goin kid!" Jixy took a long drag from her cigarette, blowing a smoke ring. "Kix, I like this one. You really know how to pick 'em out; I've always said that. He's got style this one."

"What'd I tell ya?" Kix gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "He's tough. Saw that the first time I seen him. Guess the shiner faded a bit by now, but he had one hell of one."

"Really? And he wasn't cryin like a pansy ass loser?" Tam laughed. "Well I'll be damned kid, you're tougher 'an ya look yo."

"What you talkin bout?" Jixy bent down in front of him, making two fists. "He's tough as nails! Put up your dukes kiddo!" She feigned a few hits in the face. "He's hell bent for leather this one. Mark me on that, he's goin places."

"You really think so?" he smiled shyly.

"Coarse ya are!" she ruffled his hair. "Ya got a unique look kid. An in this world, its worth somethin to be different. Hell only knows why. I jus know you'll do somethin with yerself. Don't matter what. But it'll be big. Freaky lookin losers like you always do somethin big." She tugged affectionately at a lock of his hair.

"Yeah, you'll be big, whether it's down 'ere or up there," Kix jerked his head up. "Jus remember us when yer some rich big shot with a shit load a money. An we'll see ya there. Promise you that kid."

"Thanks."

oOo

"Mama, my friend gave me this soup, it looks really good."

"Thank the lord," she sighed happily, taking the small can as though it was a lifesaver. "You don't have a friend Baby, you've got a guardian angel." She frowned slightly. "You know I trust you… But…"

"I didn't steal it Mama, I promise," he was glad that that was one thing he didn't need to lie about. "My friend gave it to me."

She hugged him, kissing the top of his head. "Thank the lord you have such wonderful friends."

oOo

"So what are we doing today?" Jixy leaned lazily against the wall, blowing smoke rings again. "Nothings happenin round here, it's so boring."

"We could…"

"Try to…"

"I've got nothin." He watched the silver rings as they shivered off into oblivion, marveling at their delicate shape. He wished he knew how Jixy made them. They looked like magic.

"Hey guys!" Maria ran up, panting and waving.

"Yo Mar, what's up?"

She laughed, slapping him on the back. "I love this kid! Tryin ta sound all tough all the time."

He blushed, staring at his feet. "I wasn't tryin to sound like anythin."

"Yeah, he ain't doin nothin but bein his own bad ass self," Jixy pulled his hair playfully. "You watch out for him. He can talk however the hell he wants, can'tcha kid?"

"You got it!" He beamed up at her, feeling a strong sense of pride that someone thought he was 'bad ass.'

"Whatever," Maria rolled her eyes. "He looks like a snotty little kid to me."

"Yo, he ain't snotty!" Tam grinned, coming out of his quiet corner to grab his arm. "Wait till ya see this one girl." He rolled up the younger boy's sleeve to show her the mass of bruises on his upper arm.

"Damn kid!" She looked disgusted and impressed at the same time. "You take that without no materia? No meds?"

"Nope," he shook his head. He never thought that was brave before.

"An 'e don't smoke neither," Jixy added proudly, clapping him on the back. "Hell, that's why I started smokin. Needed a distraction, ya know?"

"Hells yeah," Tam nodded. "The kid's strong alright. I gotta say I was wrong bout this one. Team Kix and Jix were right on him. He's goin places."

"Coarse he is," Jixy rolled her steal colored eyes. "That's what we've been trying to tell you for the past three years!"

"Jus be sure you don't ever forget yer friends, right kid?" Kix added.

"Coarse not."

oOo

He stared into the mirror. Emerald green eyes stared back, narrowed in frustration. Why did he have to have his eyes? Those evil eyes. Why couldn't he have inherited his mother's eyes? They were chocolate brown and soft looking. Not cold and hard like the ones he had gotten from his father. At least he had her hair, and that's what people noticed first because of it's bright color.

He stood on his tiptoes and crouched down, watching how the change affected his appearance. He was tall like him too. That scared him. Did that mean he was going to be like him when he grew up? Big, strong and scary? He was already creeping up on five feet, and he was only eight years old. He washed his face gently, taking care not to scrub the bruises too hard.

oOo

"Run! Run you Goddamn idiot!"

He looked around, terrified. Gunshots were making his ears roar in protest along with screams and shouts.

"I said go!" Jixy screamed again, holding her bleeding side. "You moron! Just go!" She started throwing everything in her reach at him. "Snap out of it you retard!"

He jumped as a rock finally made contact with his forehead. He tried to catch his breath, but it was hard when he felt like his throat was closing up. Kix's wide gray eyes stared blankly up at him from the ground. He had been prepared for something like this, but the switchblade with his name scratched into the handle did nothing against bullets. Maria lay next to him. But she just looked like she was sleeping… with blood spreading from the back of her head. He didn't even want to think about Tam.

"Goddammit!" Jix grit her teeth and dragged herself to her feet. "Come on!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her. "Move yer feet you retard!"

He stumbled along behind her, trying to look over his shoulder.

"Don't look back!"

He bit his lip until it bled. They were dead. He and Jixy were the only ones who were escaping from the gunmen.

oOo

"Mama…"

"What is it Baby?"

"He hasn't come in a long time. Is he gone?"

She sighed, scrubbing at the laundry. "I don't know Baby."

"It's been… two months. He's never been gone that long before."

"I know," she wrung out a shirt. "I'm not sure though."

"I hope he's gone for good," he scratched his nose, which had just stopped hurting when he touched it. "Things are better now."

She smiled at him, hardly needing to bend down to hug him. He opened his eyes wide in surprise. When had that happened? He always used to have to look up at her. Now her chin was almost at eye level. Did that mean she couldn't protect him anymore?

oOo

They finally stopped, crouched behind a dumpster somewhere in the 7th sector.

"Good goin kid," Jixy gasped, her breath ragged. "I knew you'd make it…"

"We made it," he shook his head, fighting down the dread and panic in his throat when he looked down at the blood seeping from between her fingers. "Don't worry Jix, yer gunna be fine."

"Right," she started a laugh that turned into a cough. "God, could ya get me my smokes? There in my jacket. I'm just kinda tired."

"Yeah, sure…" he found the cigarettes and put one between her lips, his fingers shaking as he lit it with her small silver lighter.

"Thanks kid," she took a deep drag, her eyelids drooping. "You were good today kid, real proud of ya. Not a lot of people keeps their heads when there's some one shootin at 'em." She reached out a hand and tugged his hair. "Bye bro."

He shook his head, trying to blink tears away. "No, it's just me. Kix is already- I mean, he got-"

"Naw, I know who ya are," she coughed again, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. "We're family kid, and don't you ever forget it. Don't ever forget yer family."

Her head dropped onto her shoulder.

"Jix?" he tapped her arm, refusing to believe that the last of his friends was gone. "Jixy?" The cigarette dropped from her mouth, hissing as it landed in the puddle of blood next to her.

He stood, shaking from head to foot. Looking down, he realized he still held the cigarettes and the lighter. He slid one of the cigarettes out of the pack. It tasted dry and flavorless to him, but he lit it anyway, taking a deep shaking breath.

oOo

"Get a job, Freak!" the store clerk shoved him out.

"Shut it, I didn't do nothin yo," he growled.

"Just do us all a favor an' blow yer brains out. I don't need no freak shows scarin off all me customers."

He flipped off the clerk as he walked away, lighting a cigarette when he heard the door slam. He walked with his head down, not looking up even to avoid bumping into people.

"Watch where yer goin ya moron!"

"Up yers."

"You tryin ta start somethin kid?"

He looked up, his eyes steely and cold. The other boy swallowed, taking a step back.

"You- you ain't worth it…"

He smirked as the much older teenage boy fled, trying to tell himself that it didn't bother him that his eyes scared people. Why should it? Any other nine year old in the slums would kill to be as intimidating as he was. With his height, hair and eyes the way they were, who wouldn't be a little weary? But that's why he had gotten the tattoos, so people would look away from his eyes when they met him. But his mother had almost cried when he had come home after getting them, making him feel guilty.

It still made him feel sick. That he towered over his mother already. That despite the fact that he carried most of her traits, he was still like him.

oOo

Coming up the stairs, he paused, listening for a moment. A thud and a shout met his ears. His stomach dropping as he ran up the stairs, his heart pounding. He hadn't been home. He hadn't been there. It had been over a year, and the one day he was gone… He tore the door open, immediately charging his father's turned back.

"Stay away from her!"

He jumped up, pulling at his hair and hitting anything in his reach with the other hand.

"Get offa me you son of a bitch!" he roared, reaching an arm back to punch the side of his head.

Stars burst in front of his eyes, but he held on tight, grappling to find his face with his fists.

"Don't you dare touch her you bastard!"

His father staggered back, slamming him against the wall. He gasped, trying to find his breath. He had to hang on; he couldn't just stand by and watch him hurt his mother this time. He coughed, surprised when he tasted blood. He hadn't thought he had been hit that hard yet. To his horror, his arms were going limp and his vision blurring.

"Dammit!" He felt his body being jarred against the wall again and he slid to the floor.

oOo

He groaned, trying to breath through his nose, but he was almost positive it was broken. He coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. "Shit yo…"

He pushed himself up, wincing as his ribs protested. His arm didn't respond to anything he tried to do and only hung limply at his side. He looked around, trying to keep his eyes focused. His heart dropped into his stomach as he spotted a small pair of shoes sticking out from behind a upturned chair that was obstructing his view.

"Ma?"

A deafening silence left a ringing in his ears. "Mama? You okay?" He repeated, trying to drag himself around the chair. His heart was beating a frantic rhythm against his chest, making his ribs ache even more. He finally staggered to his feet and ran to her, looking over the chair.

"Ma!"

His pounding heart stopped. His ears were making a funny rushing noise. She was as white as paper, blood making her already crimson curls stick together at her temple. He saw the stain on the edge of the table, testament as to what must have happened. "Ma!" he crouched down next to her, touching her face with a shaking hand. He jerked away, finding her cold. Tears blurred her pale face in his eyes and he couldn't stop shaking.

He was alone. For the first time in his life, he was completely and utterly alone. He picked her up, surprised at how easy it was to hold her limp form. "No… Mama…" Where was he supposed to go now? Who would hold him when he was scared? Who would be there to protect him, and in turn, be protected by him? He couldn't be alone; it was too much for a young boy.

"Mama!"

Reno sat up, panting. The cold sweat from the dream still clung to his skin. He shivered, trying to shake himself of the remnants of fear.

Looking around, he sighed in relief that it had been one of the rare nights he spent alone. He got out of bed, opening the window and letting the cool breeze calm his buzzing nerves. He pulled out a silver lighter, using it to ignite his cigarette.

The moon hung half full, partially hidden by grayish purple clouds and the mountain peaks. Reno ran a hand through his hair and sighed, trying to keep his mind off of the dream. Vivid as always, and they never got easier. Hesitantly, he turned back to the room, opening the top drawer of his dresser. At the bottom, he found the switch. Not that he used it any more, his EMR was much more efficient. But he had always made sure he knew where the small blade was. He put it back after turning it over in his hands a few times, reading the name scratched crudely into the handle.

He slammed the drawer shut and kicked over his nightstand in frustration. Some Turk he was. Fearless, strong, cold hearted bastard of murder who still cried out for his mother in his sleep.

Sitting on the windowsill, he tried to clear his head. He watched his smoke rings drift off into the sky, waving off into the night sky, one after the other. Since when had his life been worth living? Since when had it ever been going anywhere? It had just been one struggle and pain filled moment after the other. Just like the smoke rings, each important memory started out sharp and horrific, then melded into part of who he was. When he had joined Shinra only after a few months of being homeless, became a Turk, the first time he had killed someone… the detonation of the sector 7 bombs… Who wanted that festering in their conscience? But there was one thing the Turks had given him that he hadn't had since he was nine years old. A real family he could count on.

He looked up at the skyline of Healin again. Shaking his head, he threw his cigarette down onto the steps of the porch where it wouldn't start a fire and shut the window. He was a dumbass excuse for a human for kidding himself that he should keep trying to live. But that was just one thing that would never change, his overwhelming stupidity.

Reno crawled back into bed, glancing down at his arm where all of their names stood out stark on his shoulder.

Jet Kix Jixy Maria Tam Nina

He made sure he never forgot his family.


Ah yes, very sad... But seriously, don't even pretend you've never wondered what got him so messed up. Please give your input! I won't blame you if you hate it, but ya know...