Sleep

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy

When you are on a job, no matter its importance, basic necessities become unnecessary. Forgoing water, food, and sleep on a job is something that every Turk knows they will have to do. Unless you have learned to sleep with one eye open. That's another matter entirely though.

During a job, as every Turk knows, adrenaline and basic instinct are priority. Say, for example, that you have taken a moment to rest your feet in an enemy building approximately 50 yards from your appointed safe house. If you were Tseng, aka the leader of the Turks, you would never do this. End of discussion.

Now another completely different story would take place if you were a certain 2nd in command, also known as Reno Sinclair. See, if you were this foxy red head you would probably not just stop for a moment or two, as such to allow your feet a rest from the constant build up of lactic acid, but you would probably even sneak into an office and grab a chair. And this is where your Turk instincts come into play.

Say that while you are in this building you realize that you haven't slept for 37 hours and counting. Or that the last thing you ate was the granola bar your partner tossed you before you got on the chopper, 15 hours ago. Now, if you were Tseng you would have no problem with this, however because you are Reno you feel the need to fix this seemingly disastrous blight upon your life.

And due to the fact that you made it through the ranks, not by being the best friend of a certain billionaire but by your own similarities to a fox and your blessedly sharp mind you decide on a course of action immediately. While sitting in the main control room of your enemy's HQ. You are Reno. You appreciate the irony.

Xxx

You are Reno. You do not appreciate the current situation.

So, you have come to the realization that the enemy did not appreciate that you blew up their headquarters using their own ammunition. But being Reno and not God you cannot do anything to change this so you proceed with your current task: running for your life.

If you were another person entirely, say Cissnei for example, you would be cursing at yourself for missing the other building off to the side. Or that you should have factored in that all the members probably wouldn't be in the building when you chose to blow it up in such a flashy way. But because you are not Cissnei, but Reno all that is going through your mind right now is the excitement of causing such a large boom and in some tiny part wondering if Tseng will yell at you for blowing up another building. But you are still mostly focused on how the building looked when you destroyed it.

Another soon to be worry of yours that is not currently a worry but will be in an alarmingly short period of time is that your body is remembering that it is human. Being a Turk allows you training and stamina that most people don't have. And adrenaline. Turks have trained their bodies to get excited over the most simplest of matters, Reno still finds it funny when he passes a Turk trainee getting excited over a new pair of shoes. But, because he is mature and remembers that they actually encourage young Turks to do this, he carries on without a word. He knows that in the future this exercise, that the SOLDIERS and other military personnel both scorn and ridicule, will save this young Turks life. Just like it did to him at this very moment.

Because you are Reno and not Rude you often find yourself running into corners and alleyways that lead to, more times than not, dead ends. And as every Turk know; dead ends means dead Turks. However because you are Reno you feel as if this rule doesn't apply to you and that this dinky dirty alley will not have the pleasure of being your final resting place. So you take charge. You shoot the man before he shoots you and you don't feel remorse because, well because you might as well should have let the man shoot you then.

Xxx

You are tired. The time has come that your body has reached the limit, and the excess adrenaline in your body has left you shaking against the back wall of a building. Your shooting arm, however, is perfectly still and trained.

Taking a mental count of the number of guns that were after you and you disposed of you realize that unless backup has been called for and arrived, this is the last obstacle between you and the nearest safe house.

The man wants to kill you. You know this. You are Reno so you accept this like Cissnei and Elena never could even though they are as ruthless as you are. But you feel that Tseng would understand. Maybe. Instantly plans to go annoy the man just to get a reaction and maybe some attention form in your head.

But focusing will probably save your life so you go ahead and do that first. Instantly you body brings forth the subconscious information that it had been gathering. The man is on top of the next building. You are below. He can easily pick you off like an ant. A red ant. Your subconscious also lets you know of the many people walking around you that may be a cause of hesitation but the hairs on the back of your neck let your know that this man has his gun trained on the only way out of your dead end. You have a feeling that he will shoot.

There are three windows on the side of the building you are leaning on. Being Reno you come with an amazing ability to find even the smallest crevice in a wall and use it to climb your way up. The only problem is that being a Turk your senses tell you to get as high as possible, but being a human your body tells you that if you don't make it to the first window and no farther it will cease and desist in all movement.

You take the first window. There is no one in the room that you have landed in, which is good because, because you are Reno you have left your identification on the chopper next to the peanuts and backup gun you were supposed to bring along.

You walk along the room and reach the hallway, suddenly feeling slightly anxious that you do not know exactly where the enemy is. But that will have to be dealt with when it becomes a problem. As far as you are concerned the man hasn't moved from his position.

And he hasn't. You figure this out the easy way. The apartment you had climbed into was completely empty. So you simply left through the front door and used the stairs to haul your limping body up three flights of stairs. Being Reno, you obviously have your lock picking kit on your person but not the extra gun that you could have used.

You break in to someone else's apartment. God must be staring down at you because thankfully there is no one else in this apartment either. You walk leisurely to the window that you know will be directly across from the sniper trying to kill you.

If you were Tseng you would have never stood at the window and observed the dark green color of the shirt the man was wearing. Nor would you have waited long enough to catch the glint on the man's finger which told of a marriage. Or an engagement perhaps? If you were Elena you wouldn't have looked into the man's face and seen the five o clock stubble he was supporting, or the deep bags under his eyes. If you were Rude you never, ever would have looked the man as a person before raising a gun at him. But you are not any of these people. You are Reno. You are the second in command of the Turks and it is your job to shoot this man between the eyes.

So you do.

Xxx

Because you are Reno you tend to get away with a lot of things. You know many people and you are acquainted with many places. Two of these places are currently dominating your mind. One: a vendor that owes you a favor resides close by. And two: the nearest SOLDIER safe house.

From the vendor, who looks at you with a raised eyebrow, you acquire a long black trench coat and a hair tie. Your own got lost during the mad rush. And you need the trench to cover up the blood. It won't do for the public to see a known Turk walking around looking as if he had just gotten out of a bloody battle now would it? That would be bad PR.

You don the long jacket and head off to the safe house, you long obnoxious hair covered safely with a hood. Being followed is not something you want right now.

At the door you are greeted by none other than the honorable and great Angeal Hewely. Vaguely you wonder what he is doing here before deciding that the information is unnecessary. Mumbling a greeting you stumble past the man hoping that he does not stop you.

Ah, it appears as if God only grants one wish a day. Tiredly, you let the giant colossus of a man pull you by the arm to wherever he so desires. You know its not towards the bedrooms so immediately your face settles into a pout that would probably never exist on a colleagues face. Whatever. You are Reno and you are tired.

Xxx

You are Angeal Hewely now. Not Reno. Reno is the slight red headed figure seconds away from passing out in your arms. You, as much as you dislike to admit it because of the known rivalry between the SOLDIERS and Turks, are worried.

You suppose that these feelings may have come about due to your latest charge, an overactive hyper bouncing puppy of a boy. And then you shove away all the unnecessary thoughts to attend to the half dead Turk in your arms.

Truthfully you would rather not be doing this. You yourself have just gotten back from a taxing mission, however you discern that while your had been a source of pain for your mentality this young boy had been physically affected. And so you begin to methodically checking the boy for any injuries and stripping off his jacket, all while ignoring the many words of protest that slip though his tired lips.

Everything about this boy excludes fatigue and in some way grief. Once again your mind slips and you compare Zack and this Turk. You also note that Zack has never once come home looking like this. Hurt worse? Yes. More tired? Yes. But not like this.

There is something very off about this young one. Perhaps it's that he is the youngest Turk to ever take such a high position? Or at least the youngest to ever make it to the position and stay alive?

Xxx

Angeal checks the water to make sure that its not too hot before carefully grabbing a wash cloth and wiping the death off the boy. By this time the young Turk is already limp in his arms though Angeal notes that the heartbeat is still too fast to be completely taken as asleep.

He finds this odd because the boy really does look, and act, as if he were in the midst of heavy rest. But he is awake. And Angeal knows that the moment he makes a move that upsets the Turk in anyway the body in his arms will stiffen and arch and he will find himself looking into eyes that hold no other intent but to do whatever is necessary.

So he is careful. And he holds on to his honor. He will be respectful to this young one and treat him the same as if he would Zack. But he knows in his heart it will be very different for this one will have to be treated much gentler.

Angeal carefully strips his charge of the bloody shirt, then while he is keeping a soothing arm on the boy he strips off the pants also. Then come the various straps that hold the numerous number of lethal weapons to the boy's body. He carefully removes all but the one that is attached to the boy's calf. That one this young Turk does not want gone from his person it seems.

Angeal does not argue. He clinically wipes down the quivering body from the sweat and blood before helping him into a pair of oversized pajamas.

He considers leaving the boy in one of the various rooms that the house has, but knows that this will cause his own rest to be disturbed. His mind will constantly think about the red head and if he is okay or not.

So he makes the executive decision and brings him into his own quarters. Angeal lays the Turk in the bed off to the side while he himself gets on the other.

Angeal watches as the boy situates himself in his aware-sleep, surprisingly bringing his body closer to Angeals own, perhaps in search of heat. Angeal doesn't deny him. He has a feeling that had he ever been given an opportunity he would have treated the boy as Zack but somehow in ways less platonic.

It doesn't bother him at all to his own amazement.

Throwing one cautious arm over the heat seeker, Angeal allows his own eyes to rest and soon slips off into dreamless sleep. The Turk beside him feels the older man completely let go of his guards and lets his own consciousness go, unknowing that his sub-conscious burrows deep into the others arm as soon as he lets go.

Xxx

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