(Usual disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy or any lyrics quoted within. This is written for fun, not profit)


At night I walk this stinkin' street past the crazies on my block
And I see the same old faces and I hear that same old talk
And I'm searching for the latest thing, a break in this routine
I'm talkin' some new kicks, ones like you ain't never seen

Mean Street - Van Halen


Each day, the redheaded boy dashed in and out of the rather dangerous-looking machinery on the factory floor with a practiced ease that almost seemed carefree; though one wrong move near these moving parts could result in the loss of a finger, or a foot - or much, much worse. He was the smallest and the fastest amongst all of the children who worked in the garment factory, nestled deep within the Sector 7 slums. Here beneath the Plate, amidst the filth and decay of Lower Midgar, there were no child labor laws; no labor safety regulations; nothing but the drudgery of hard, backbreaking manual labor. It was either that, or turning to things such as prostitution that enabled the working poor, these Untouchables, to get a bit of food in their bellies; and, if they were lucky, shelter and a warm, dry place to sleep.

For ten-year old Reno, it was the only life he knew, and really, when he thought long and hard about it, he couldn't complain much. Though he had never been above the Plate, he had heard fantastic stories about the upper class who resided there, and the great President Rupert ShinRa, who controlled most of the world's holdings in Mako energy. The young boy had a poor, but loving family; his mother, Aylinn, his father, Elias, and a sister, Renata. All four worked in the factory, Reno's mother and sister serving as seamstresses; his father tended to the massive boiler that drove steam to heat the factory floor, and to power the machines that ran off steam. Aylinn also served as a healer in the factory, along with two other women, Carya and Selene. The three healers would tend to injuries sustained on the job, of which there had been many; the machinery was unsafe, and the cruel foreman who ran the floor wasn't exactly concerned with the safety of those he oversaw. Aylinn's gift of healing was innate; in her veins ran the blood of the Ancients, though she was not one-hundred percent Cetran, the bloodline was strong enough to afford her these skills.

Materia use was not allowed within the factory walls, save for the healers, who carried Cure materia with them. The no-materia rule was rather pointless, anyway; most of these working poor could not even afford materia, though some did own materia that they'd found lying around in the streets, or discovered by picking through the trash.

It was a hard life, but Reno knew nothing else; at the very least, he was secure in the knowledge that his parents loved him. Though he was far from well fed, Reno was not starving. He, Renata, and their parents picked through dumpsters behind restaurants for scraps, the same way that so many others just like them did, trying to eke out a living; or simply trying to survive until the next day dawned.

Renata was the elder of the two children by three years; she was going on fourteen, while Reno was about to turn ten. Like her brother and mother, she had flaming red hair, though Renata's was flecked here and there with strands of white blond. Her eyes were a deep emerald green, and were large and inquisitive, unlike Reno's eyes of bright blue, which were slightly almond-shaped. The girl was protective of Reno, and he of her. Though he was but a child, Reno was sharp enough to realize that his sister was growing and developing into a beautiful young woman. The physical changes her body was going through were becoming hard to ignore, as were the wanton stares and lustful gazes directed toward her from the gruff and cruel foreman, Mr. Barnes.

As the four of them clocked in one morning, Renata gave Reno a look, motioning him over to the side; Mr. Barnes had just caught sight of the young girl, and was advancing toward them. Renata wanted nothing more than to get to her sewing station, and quickly. Aylinn noticed her daughter's change in demeanor, and saw Barnes leering at her. Over the past few weeks, Aylinn had come to realize that Barnes had an interest in her daughter, and the thought sickened her - not only because of Renata's young age, but also because of Barnes' reputation as a lech and a sadist.

"Is he bothering you again?" Aylinn hissed. She gave her husband a look as well, before he departed down the staircase into the depths of the factory, where the boiler room was. Watch him, the look said. Watch Barnes. I do not trust him, not one whit.

"No, Mama!" the girl lied, pulling her hair back underneath the factory-issued hair net, one like all the other girls wore. "Everything is fine." Don't want mama to worry, but at least I can tell Reno what's going on, Renata thought. Reno was her best friend, and she trusted him to keep any secrets she had; she had done the same for him many times.

"You two get to work now, I am working in the laundry room today," Aylinn told her children, giving both a tired smile.

"You're not on the sewing floor today, mama?" Renata paled slightly; not having her mother nearby could spell trouble, particularly if Barnes was lurking, and it always seemed he was doing so whenever Renata was around.

"Just for today," Aylinn replied, her lips setting in a thin line. She could pick up on Renata's nervousness, and knew exactly the reason why. Minerva help him if he tries anything with my little girl.

"Reno, watch out for your sister," Aylinn instructed the boy, and he nodded. "I will, mama," he replied. "See you at lunch!" Reno said brightly, waving at his mother as she left. Once his mother was not within earshot, Reno pulled at his sister's arm, frowning.

"Ow!" Renata blurted, as they ascended the staircase. Mr. Barnes, keys jangling from a giant ring fastened to his belt loop, was locking the factory doors, just as he did every day. It was done to prevent employee theft, or so Barnes claimed, not that there was really anything worth stealing within the squalid factory walls.

"Renata, what is going on?" Reno hissed, glancing furtively behind him to see if Barnes was there, but he wasn't. "You're acting so weird - "

"Shut up and listen, okay?" Renata interrupted, speaking quietly and quickly. "It's Mr. Barnes. Reno...ugh, it's so gross - he told me he intends to ask mama permission to marry me."

"To marry you? You're just a kid!" Reno spluttered, protesting. "That's sick!"

"I know," Renata whispered, as they reached the top of the stairwell. "But I'm almost fourteen...I would be legal, then." Under Midgar Common law, the minimum age for marriageable girls was fourteen; ironically, males had to be a bit older to file for a marriage license, sixteen was the minimum age for men. Mr. Barnes was well above that minimum age, however - he was thirty-two.

"That's disgusting," Reno argued, getting more and more upset by the minute. "He's old, and he's a pervert. 'Nata, I've seen how he ogles a lot of the girls, some even younger than you." Reno was the eyes and ears on the factory floor, and though he kept some of that knowledge to himself, he would share anything he felt was worth telling with his parents, or his sister.

"Look, I gotta go," Reno said quickly. Talan, an older boy of seventeen who assigned floor runners such as Reno their daily tasks, was standing nearby, looking expectantly at the young redhead. "I'll watch out for that jerk the best I can, okay? Just make sure you're never alone with him. I'll take care of you, Nata, always. I promise," Reno said earnestly, quickly kissing his sister good-bye.

"I'll stick with all the other ladies," Renata assured him, waving at her little brother. "Bye, fire-head!"

Reno chuckled at the endearment, and then he quickly joined the small group of boys and girls who had gathered around Talan. "Whatcha got for us today, Talan?" Reno asked.

Talan grinned, the smile splitting his dirt-smeared face. "Well, I need the smallest hands we got for the first job. Got a gear stuck in one of the cutting machines. Now, there's a lever that keeps the blade from runnin' through - I'm gonna man that, keep the blade away while one of you's goes in there and gets the gear out. Got it? So who wants the job? One extra gil, hard cash, for the first volunteer."

One whole gil! Reno thought, smiling. I can buy 'Nata something for her birthday! His hand went up automatically. "Pick me! Pick me!" he shouted, pleading, his voice joining the chorus of other children who were lured by the promise of gil. "I want to do it!"

"Let's see..." Talan murmured, glancing over the young and eager faces. "How about...ah, you there, Fletcher!" he called to the boy standing right next to Reno.

"Damn it!" Reno muttered, feeling utterly disappointed. Fletcher was just about Reno's size, though Reno did, in fact, have smaller hands. The boy grinned at Reno and shrugged. "Sorry," he murmured, still grinning widely. "Maybe next time you'll get a turn."

"Yeah," Reno grumbled. "Whatever."

"The rest of you's, need you doing the usual odd jobs out there," Talan told the rest of the children. "Sweepin', pickin' up buttons, needles and thread, I want the floor spotless. Got an important visitor comin' this week, Mr. Barnes wants this place in top order!"

"No shit?" Reno murmured, half to himself, as he turned to his tasks. Wonder who this important visitor might be...I'll tell mama and papa later, 'Nata too, they probably haven't heard anything yet. Grabbing a broom, Reno set about to sweeping, as Talan and Fletcher headed toward the cutting machine in the far corner of the shop. He glanced over at Renata, head bent over her sewing machine, keenly concentrating on her work. Barnes was nowhere in sight - for now, and for that, Reno was grateful. Good, I hope he stays the hell away from this floor.

Reno was not to get his wish, however; some hours later, Mr. Barnes reappeared, and made a beeline for Renata's sewing station. Reno's jaw clenched angrily, his knuckles turning white around the broom handle. He stood there silently while Barnes tried making small talk with Renata. It was clear that the women and girls who sat near Renata were just as uncomfortable with the man's presence; a few of the older women outright glared at him, shaking their heads in disgust.

"Hello, my pretty redhead," Mr. Barnes crooned, bending down and speaking right into Renata's ear, his breath hot on her face. "Did you speak to your mother like I asked you to?"

"No, I didn't," Renata replied, refusing to look at him or make eye contact with him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Barnes, I can't. I need to get my work done here, sir."

Barnes threw his head back and laughed, piggish looking eyes glittering darkly in his sunken-looking eye sockets. "So serious, you must learn to smile!" he declared. Mr. Barnes wrapped a meaty hand around Renata's upper arm, gripping it hard. "I am through playing around with you, girl. I intend to have you as my wife, I was trying to be nice by askin' for your parents' permission, but I don't need it anyway. I always get what I want."

"I'm just a kid," Renata argued, knowing that Barnes would likely call her on her insubordination and punish her. "I'm only thirteen years old!"

"You're old enough to be married," Barnes snorted, eyeing Renata's developing breasts, hidden though they were underneath her baggy, shapeless dress. "And very comely, I might add," he murmured, standing behind Renata and placing his hands on her shoulders, massaging them, his fat, grease-smeared fingers smudging her dress. Renata's hands shook, and she dropped her bobbin.

"Mr. Barnes, sir!" came a deep and booming female voice from behind them. Barnes turned with a scowl on his face that turned to a look of surprise as he recognized Meryl, the floor matron.

"Meryl," Barnes muttered, straightening himself up as he greeted the woman, irritated at the unexpected interruption, though he plastered fake smile on his grizzled face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's no pleasure of mine," Meryl said sourly, grimacing at the man. She, like all of the women who worked in the garment factory, was well aware of Mr. Barnes and his proclivities. "Renata needs to get back to her sewing, we have order to fill," the woman barked, hoping that this interruption would prevent Barnes from further harassing the young girl - or worse. Meryl gave Renata a careful look, and the girl nodded in understanding, picking up the bobbin she'd dropped, and quietly returning to work.

"Thank you," Renata mouthed to Meryl, unseen by Barnes, who was staring down the matron, trying to intimidate her, but the woman was not afraid of him. She'd dealt with his type far too many times before.

"Well, of course, " Barnes murmured, enraged at the woman, but unable to do anything about it, not at the moment. He silently vowed to have words with her superior later on. Reno stared at the oaf hatefully from across the floor as he continued sweeping, wishing the man would die, or simply disappear and stop harassing his sister. It pained Reno that he couldn't do anything to make Mr. Barnes' behavior stop.

Everything came to a sudden halt on the factory floor as a shrill scream sounded from the far corner. Reno's head whipped around, and he caught the sick expression on Talan's face. He was no longer holding the lever, and Fletcher lay on the floor; the small boy was the one who was screaming.

Reno ran over like a shot, and slid on the floor, skidding to a stop, his feet sliding in some sort of puddle. Something wet. And red. Blood, lots of it, some still pulsing from the stub that used to be Fletcher's arm.

"Fletch!" Reno cried, crouching over the frightened boy who was quickly going into shock. "Talan, man, what the hell!" Reno shouted. "Get some goddamned help!" Talan was standing there shaking and sobbing; he was bordering on catatonic, wracked with guilt over what had happened - it was an accident, his hand had slipped off the lever and the cutting blade came back down fast when Fletcher's little hand was still in the machine. The blade had cleanly severed the arm just above the elbow; Fletcher's face was contorted in pain as Reno did his best to comfort the boy.

At Reno's words, Talan suddenly seemed to snap out of his catatonia, and ran out of the room to summon help. "R-right!" the boy stammered, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'll get the healer!" he shouted as he fairly flew out of the room. Reno held on tightly to Fletcher's good hand, and supported the boy's head with his other hand. The brown eyes were clouding over as Fletcher went into shock; blood spattered the pale skin of his face, and his flaxen curled hair.

"Hang on bud, hang on," Reno murmured, trying to sound reassuring, though truthfully, he was scared out of his mind. Many of the women on the floor had come over to assist, Renata amongst them, binding up the bleeding stump with scraps of remnant cloth.

"Reno," Renata whispered, crouching beside her brother. "Did anyone find...the rest of his arm?" she asked, trying to choke down her queasiness. Reno's head jerked up - he hadn't even thought of that, looking for what was left of the boy's severed limb.

"I have it," Aylinn said quietly, kneeling beside Reno and Fletcher, the dead arm bound in the cleanest piece of cloth she could find. "Fletcher, I am here, stay with me, son." Barnes was standing back, overseeing everything.

"Can you fix 'im?" the man asked, not an ounce of real concern in his voice. Aylinn spoke without looking at him, her head was bent as she tended to her patient.

"That is what I am attempting to do," she said coldly. "I need to concentrate on healing the boy, so please, I require silence."

"Well EXCUSE me," Barnes muttered before stalking off. "Mouthy bitch," he threw over his shoulder, as he left.

Reno's lips peeled back in a snarl at that, and Renata glared at the man's back as he retreated. "Hold strong, children," Aylinn cautioned them. "Ignore him, we must help Fletcher. Renata, come on my right side here, and help, please," she told her daughter. "I must re-position the arm." Unwrapping the severed arm, blood still spurting from the veins and arteries, Aylinn nodded to Reno. "Take that cloth away from his stump," she instructed him. Reno had been keeping pressure on the wound, and his hand was now slick with the crimson of Fletcher's blood.

"Okay," Reno replied, trying to swallow down the bile he felt rising in his throat; the stench of blood was strong, filling his nostrils with an acrid tang. "Mama, he doesn't look good, look at his face...he's gone all gray," Reno told his mother, worrying that it was too late.

"His spirit is strong," Aylinn said automatically, then smiled upon the frightened boy. "Isn't that right, Fletcher? Now, listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on something - Reno's face, or mine, or Renata's, while I heal you, yes?"

Fletcher nodded, feeling the room spin as he did so; the loss of blood was starting to affect him, and he felt very sick indeed. "Okay...ma'am," the boy replied, in a very small and weak voice.

"Very good," Aylinn murmured, joining the severed limb to the stump, positioning them together. "Renata, hold his upper arm just so, while I cast the Cure." Aylinn then murmured a quiet prayer of healing, in the language of the Ancients, the Cetran tongue.

Láimh Leagha Mhóir umat
Súil Slán-Ícithe tharat
Cúram Dian Céchta cógas
Súigh diot d'arraing

Falbh! Falbh! Falbh!
Balbh! Balbh! Balbh!
Do nimh a bhíodh sa lár

Reno found himself murmuring the prayer along with his mother, and looked over to see Renata doing the same. Please, let this work...poor kid... he prayed. As the Cure spell was cast, a greenish-white glow emenated from Aylinn's hand, and spread over the boy's arm.

"It's hot!" Fletcher whimpered, snuffling back his tears. "So hot, it burns!"

"Shh, little one," Aylinn murmured, repeating the prayer. "It shall burn, and then it shall freeze...I am sorry, child, but this is a good sign, that you can feel it, that means the Cure is working." Suddenly, Fletcher began shivering, his teeth chattering. "C-cold now," he whispered, looking up at Reno with a pained expression. Reno looked at him sympathetically, wishing he could do something to comfort him. He rubbed Fletcher's good arm, trying to warm him up. The boy let out a sleepy sigh, then closed his eyes. Moments later, they shot open again, and he stared in amazement at his fingers, which were starting to twitch ever so slightly.

"I can feel!" he cried, beaming at Aylinn. "I can feel my fingers! They feel a little prickly and itchy, but I can feel!" Aylinn smiled back at him, and the green light faded as she withdrew her hand. "Wonderful," she murmured, glancing up as she saw the foreman return.

"Mr. Barnes," Aylinn said, addressing him. "The boy will need to see a doctor after this, to make sure there is no infection. I have reattached the limb, and will bind it again while it fully heals."

"Ain't got no money for no doctor," Barnes replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Tough luck, kid is on his own."

Aylinn frowned at the man, and stood up to face him. "Reno, Renata, help Fletcher over to the cot in the back, please. He must rest, I will clean the wound again and bind it, when I am done speaking with Mr. Barnes."

"Okay, mama," Renata replied. Meryl pushed her way forward to help as well. "You kids done good," she murmured, lifting Fletcher's little body up. "We'll mind him over here, me and some of the other ladies."

"Nobody's minding that kid, I need everyone back to work," Barnes retorted, glaring at Meryl. "Bad enough production slowed while you all tended to the brat."

All who heard the man were aghast. "Mister Barnes," Aylinn said coldly, staring the man down with no trace of fear. "Fletcher nearly lost his life here, you should be ashamed of yourself, speaking like that."

"Don't lecture me, woman," Barnes snapped, raising a hand to strike her. Out of nowhere, a fist shot out, fingers closing around Barnes' meaty wrist.

"No." Reno's father, Elias, had come back up to meet his family for their brief lunch break, and had walked in right as Barnes was about to slap Aylinn. "Mr. Barnes. You do not hit my wife." Reno's heart swelled with pride for his father; though everyone in the factory tended to tread lightly around the tempramental Barnes, Elias included, the foreman had just crossed a line in nearly assaulting Aylinn.

"Elias," Barnes muttered, stepping back slightly. Reno's father was much taller than the short and squat foreman, and while he was thin, he was also strong, with lean muscle covering his bones. "Better control your wife, she has a sharp tongue."

"You know, I could fire all of you for this," Barnes snapped, turning on Elias, trying to intimidate him. "Insubordination! What the hell you doing up here anyway?"

"I'm here to meet my family for lunch," Elias said quietly, unblinking as he continued to stare down Barnes.

"Innit that sweet," Barnes said with a sneer. "No lunch breaks today, for anyone!" the foreman announced to the floor. "You people have wasted enough time playing nursemaid with that kid," he added.

"Have you no heart, Mr. Barnes?" Aylinn snapped, blue eyes blazing angrily. "That boy could have died!"

"And that ain't my problem," Barnes returned, rolling his eyes. "Everyone, back to work! And leave that brat alone, he can rest for now, but I don't want none of you hens hoverin' over him all day long, takin' away from production." The seamstresses all silently glared at Barnes, but all dutifully returned to their sewing machines, Aylinn included. Elias stood there for a moment, frowning at Barnes, then as the man turned away, quickly walked over to his children.

"Here," Elias whispered, thrusting two wax paper-wrapped sandwiches at each of them. "Lunch. Hide them for now, eat 'em when you're excused to go to the bathroom. Don't want you two going hungry."

"Thank you, Papa," Renata and Reno murmured, both hiding the sandwiches away in their pockets. They would get squashed, but at least it was something to tide them over, for who knew if they would have enough money to buy food for their evening meal?

"Shit, Barnes is comin' back," Elias muttered. As the foreman returned, he opened his mouth to scold Elias, but he waved his hand at him.

"Already heading back down to my post, sir," Elias told Barnes smoothly. He of course hated the man, but wasn't about to rock the boat when Barnes was already in a sour mood. There was no telling who the foreman might take his temper out on, and Elias certainly didn't want it to be any of his family.

"See that you do," Barnes said coldly. "You there, Red!" the foreman barked at Reno, who was trying to clean Fletcher's blood from his hands with a dampened piece of cloth.

"Yes sir?" Reno replied, feeling ever on edge around the man. He couldn't help but feel that Barnes was up to something.

"You're taking Talan's place now," Barnes informed him. "He's been let go, I just escorted his careless ass out of the building."

"But it was an accident," Reno blurted. "Talan didn't mean it, I saw how upset he was - "

"Don't argue with me, you little shit," Barnes snapped. "I'm in charge here! Now do you want a job or do you want to starve, hmm? Which is it?"

"I'll do it," Reno said, his voice weary. "What do you need me to do next?"

"Got some cleanin' to do, lots of it," Barnes told him. "Told ya, important visitor's comin' soon, President ShinRa and his son. Round up all the kids, I need all the brass fixtures in this place polished, and I want to see all the windows sparklin'."

"Okay," Reno said, the exhaustion hitting him as he stood up. He hated this job, hated Barnes, hated his life right now. The only thing that kept him going at this point, was his family - at least he had that. Reno was utterly exhausted, but there was no time to rest, nor any time to eat. He moved about the factory floor, whistling and calling the rest of the kids over to meet with him.

"Talan's gone," Reno announced, to a bunch of inquisitive faces. "Mr. Barnes fired him because of the accident. We got jobs to do now, and here's our assignment." Reno went on to list the work that needed to be done, and passed out polishing rags and paste. "Gotta make it extra good, Mr. Barnes says the president is coming to visit this week!" Reno was curious about President ShinRa and his son - what was he like? He'd watched the man on the news a few times, on the beat-up old television the family had that barely worked, and only received three channels.

Wonder what's like to be president, Reno thought to himself, as he set about polishing the brass hinges of the doors. I wonder what I'll be when I grow up. I know one thing though...I want more than this kind of life. He whistled as he worked the rest of the day, one eye always on Renata, ready to intervene if Barnes decided to be a bastard and harass her again.


A/N: The "Cetran" prayer is actually in Gaelic; it's a healing prayer, and I thought that Gaelic is an ancient enough language, I could use it as Cetran. And yes...Reno's mother is part Cetra! Which makes Reno and his sister part Cetra too, of course.