Author Note: I'm posting an updated version of this story from forever ago. I entered it into a fan fiction contest for my local anime convention, and since this has always been one of my favorite stories, I have high hopes for winning. This is one of my pride-and-joy stories. I'm incredibly proud of this one, so hopefully everyone will like it. If you're a new reader, I hope you enjoy! Final Fantasy VII and it's characters are copyrighted to Square Enix; I just took artistic liberty with them for a while.

Warnings: Blood, suggested violence, sexual talk, drugs and alcohol...Reno being Reno. Also, suggested Reno/Elena pairing. You have been warned.

Silence.

Why was it so quiet? No, there was noise. The soft dripping of liquid on a carpet. Red liquid. Blood.

His blood.

Elena clenched her eyes shut, her hand resting on the head of fire lying on her lap. This wasn't right. Things didn't go this way; she was the screw up, the rookie. Not him.

It was supposed to be a routine mission. The Turks go in, do their business, and then leave unnoticed. But on this single occasion, things didn't go exactly as planned.

"Elena…" her eyes snapped open and she looked down to fix her gaze on him, frowning deeply.

"You idiot," she reprimanded softly, her gaze fixing on the wall across from her, "I'm the one that always screws up. Why'd you have to go and get shot?"

Her voice was choked, holding back sobs. But the sound of herself crying would have been better than that horrible sound. Anything would be better than his ragged breathing. And that terrible, disgusting, sickening dripping.

"I…saved your ass again, and…all you can do is bitch?" His voice was rough. He coughed, and she flinched. More blood, this time spattering across his face. A drop hit her cheek, and she heaved a dry sob.

"Well I wouldn't be bitching if you hadn't gotten in the way!" She snapped, grabbing his hand - the one that was resting on the hole in his stomach. She clenched her hand around his fingers, pressing onto the wound to suppress the bleeding.

"If I hadn't gotten in the way, you'd be laying here right now instead of me," he grumbled, fingers of his free hand twitching lazily against the carpet.

She sighed. This was her fault, that's all. He got in the way, but it was still her fault. If she hadn't rushed in there, that man wouldn't have seen her, and Reno wouldn't have had to take the bullet. Why did he save her, anyway? Didn't he hate her guts?

Guts.

Her stomach lurched at the thought, and she pressed her hand harder into his, forcing his hand against his own wound.

Stupid.

"…I need a smoke," there was silence, and then she laughed harshly.

"Like hell. You're not going to prevent me from breathing just because," she stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Because…"

She could feel his eyes on her face, and she knew he was frowning. She knew he knew what she was trying to say, but she wouldn't let herself. She couldn't admit it out loud that he was dying, bleeding out. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'll be fucking fine, just gimme a fucking cig," he growled, coughing again and half-nodding towards his pocket. Elena stared at him for a long minute before she reached into his pocket and pulled out his crumpled pack of cigarettes. Flipping open the box, she delicately pulled one out and placed it between his welcoming, red-stained lips.

"Good, now a light," he grunted as she stuffed the pack back into his pocket and wiped her hands on her pants.

"What?" She looked at him, and he rolled his eyes, coughing.

"A light, you stupid shit," he repeated, nodding back towards his pocket. He growled again as she just continued to look at him stupidly. "Isn't there a lighter in there?"

"No," she responded slowly, her thought process had nearly stopped by then, as she had watched the color drain from his face ever-so-slowly.

"Fuck me," he sighed, sucking on the unlit cancer-stick, hoping it would calm him a little. It didn't.

There was more silence as he continued to stare at the flickering lights of the hallway ceiling. There was a long moment before Reno sighed, shifting ever-so-slightly, and immediately regretting it.

"Rude'll…come soon," he grunted, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling. Elena looked at him for a long moment before she sighed and glanced down the hall. "He'll realize how long it's taking us, and he'll…get here, and then…we can get out of here."

He continued on, trying to comfort the distressed girl holding him. It wasn't for her sake so much as it was for his, and Elena could tell. He was irritated by her worrying, her bitching.

More silence. And then, "I need a drink."

Elena laughed slightly, looking down at him.

"That makes two of us."

"And a blow job," he continued, glancing up at her, a crooked grin spread across his face.

"In your dreams, you sick fuck," she bit back, scowling down at him. He laughed shortly, the laugh turning into a harsh cough that splattered more blood across his red-stained lips, another drop hitting the blond girl in the face.

Elena sobbed quietly, finally letting the tears flow down her cheeks. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening to him, he didn't deserve this!

There was a quiet sigh, and Elena opened her eyes – she honestly didn't remember closing them – and looked at Reno.

"Why's it gotta be so…damned cold in here?" He grunted, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he wasn't ignorant. He knew it wasn't cold in there. He was losing too much blood, that's all. Elena felt her eyes slide shut as her hand began stroking the bright head of hair resting on her lap.

"They'll come soon, Reno. I promise," she choked back another sob, shifting her legs as she felt the sticky, blood-soaked material cling to her skin. Her stomach lurched. How much blood was that, now? Too much, surely.

"Reno! Elena!" There were voices. Or maybe she was just hearing things. She felt Reno shift slightly. Footsteps. Voices. Their names were being called.

"God, Reno! Elena!" Elena's eyes snapped open. Her vision was blurred from tears, and possibly…was she bleeding, too? She must have been. There couldn't possibly be this much blood coming from just one person.

There was a figure – two figures? – coming towards them. If she had been more conscious, she would have realized it was their comrades, Rude and Tseng, there to save them.

Save them.

"See, Reno? I told you…that they'd come," she whispered quietly, her eyes sliding shut again, and she smiled.

"That's great," she distantly heard Reno's voice over the buzzing of the other two in the background, and the approaching helicopter, "But I still need a drink."

She snorted, rolling her closed eyes.

"And a blow job."