A/N: Reviews would be freaking awesome(: I know this is crap, but I'm getting there. Patience, young Jedi (Fail.)

I always totally forget what I'm going to say on Author's Notes...I'm a little bit ignorant on some of this, but if I have something wrong, don't be afraid to inform me of it. And if you think it's horrible, please, don't go, "It's horrible" and then encourage me to write. I've seen that a bit around here, and my face is like, "o_o..." so yeah. Oh, and...do people still even read Yazoo/Reno? Or FFVII, for that matter...? And if there are errors, my apologies.

OH OH OH! I disclaim this. (: Well, the...uhm. You know what I mean. The title is a song, and each chapter is going to be named after a song. Even if it has nothing to do with the chapter.

Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most

So hot…it was so hot…sizzling, burning.

When Yazoo awoke, he knew right away that the light he had first awoken with was a different light than the one now; much less natural, much more painful, harsher on the eyes. His surroundings were different - no, he was no longer stumbling through mounds and mounds of rubble, digging up the corpse of his brother - yet he was moving. Walking, even. Against his will.

His legs had been replaced with jell-o. Or, that is how it felt. His right leg seemed to scream torture!, while his left dragged along without much complaint. But the thick, foggy, nebulous thoughts echoing through his head no longer mattered. But what did?… He knew there had been something he was supposed to do, something he was supposed to find, but nothing, at the moment, came to his groggy mind.

The tiles were spinning, the room was spinning. At some point, for but a brief moment, he wondered if maybe he were spinning. He neither knew nor cared….at the moment, his priority was…he didn't remember. No. He could not even comprehend what it was that was going on around him. The subdued tone of whomever was speaking near him was incoherent, and that is what, even though he hated to admit it, scared him the most. Was he under water? No, the air felt like it had been nothing but a huge heat wave, but it sure did sound that way. The voice was muffled, yet right in his ear.

His head rolled back, along with his eyes. He wanted to rest, for…a long, long time. He wanted to drop into a coma he would never wake from. His body, oh how it ached! Ugh - and the sound of his blood beating behind his eardrums. Would it never cease? To add to this torment, his world shifted into a new position; there was that voice again, nothing but wah-wah-wah; he could almost make out cursing, mumbled. And then suddenly, he was no longer limping along (he didn't think), and his head was fully dangling back like he was being lifted and thrown around like some rag doll by the hands of a young child. He opened his mouth, let a wounded, strained sound escape from his larynx to have it emit from his mouth. It rang through his brain and ricocheted against the inner walls of his skull, and he had to refrain from letting another pained noise leave him, it being the source of his added pain.

A flash of red made its way across his poor vision - he attempted to raise a gloved-hand to reach out and touch it, but failed, for his limbs felt like lead - and the oddly enticing smell of fire, cigarette smoke, probably, and cheap cologne assaulted his nose as it lightly nudged something soft, a soft fabric. He could feel the leather of his pants sticking to his thighs, his bangs sticking to his forehead and the side of his face.

Should he fight for his consciousness? Or do the stupid thing his irrational brain wanted, what his body needed: to slip back into the clutches of unconsciousness and remain having not a clue of his surroundings and what was going on. Who knew. The next time he woke up, maybe he wouldn't really have woken up. Maybe he'd be dead, to join his…

Kadaj, Loz!

He had remembered! His body still kept him miles under water; his mind screamed loudly; he forced his eyes open. Black dots littered his vision, and it hurt. His mind knew exactly what it was he wanted him to say, but his lips refused to form the words - correctly, that is. Not that he noticed, anyways. It is like staying up a day and a half long, falling asleep, only to have someone shake your shoulder minutes later to get you to wake up - suddenly you're calling them by the wrong name, saying the wrong things, and wishing to go back to sleep even though your mind is shouting the complete opposite. That is how Yazoo felt. "Unn…," oh, how his throat and mouth ached as he stretched his chapped lips to form the words, "K-Kadaj, is…is, you? L-Loz. Nnn." No, no! That had not at all been what he meant to say! But still, satisfied, he closed his eyes.

It felt so good to be swallowed up by the darkness, and even if only for a little while, be numb to the world. To the mental and physical pains of the body. If only it would last forever.

"Og. He doesn't look so good," the redheaded Turk declared, stating the obvious - even the blind could see that this man…indeed, did not look so good. "'Sure we should make him walk?"

Reno's brows twitched. In frustration, of course. Walk? The silver-haired man was not walking! Reno was half-carrying, half-dragging the dude! The question had been one out of pure laziness, plus, the fact that he was carrying his arch nemesis with his arm wrapped snugly around his waste and Yazoo's supple body pressed into his side simply revolted him!

"How else would he get there, Reno?"

Dammit, couldn't they turn the air conditioner up? 'Was hotter than hell.

Reno pursed his lips together into a thin, white line, pulling Yazoo along, none to gently, while wiping sweat from his brow. He knew why Elena was being so sour; the bandage on her right cheek near her mouth was a good enough reminder for him of what the three Sephiroth clones had done, but he couldn't help but bark out a reply to return her hostility. After all, it wasn't he who had tortured her to find answers they had never really even received. "What crawled up your ass and died?" It was obvious to Reno that she could not come up with a witty-enough reply, so instead glowered at him. "I mean, look at 'im, 'Lena. He ain't even conscious." Then, he shook Yazoo's rather light body in one of his arms; if anyone were awake during that personal earthquake, they'd pummel the person responsible for it right into the ground. He had some nerve, shaking Yazoo all around like that...But, he was not conscious.

"Ugh-" scoff, "-well, that's why you're here; to drag him around. He is the enemy. He deserves as little comfort as he can get."

"Yeah, but you see - I'm not the enemy! Yet I have to carry his body around in this fuckin' heat? He's not heavy, but he ain't exactly a feather, either! Why don't we just kill him, right here, right now, and get this whole damn thing over with?"

"Y'know, as one of the…pretty much, head Turks, you don't seem to know a lot of what you're talking about."

Reno scowled at Elena, who strode ahead, a triumphant smile stealing her face.

Just let her think she won.

He grit his straight, white teeth, holding the stupid, stupid clone's frame close to him for support as he dragged him along, willing his feet to move, despite his unconscious state…or, his grogginess. Was the silver-haired male awake? Reno bent his head forward a bit, attempting to maneuver so he could at least get a glimpse of Yazoo's face.

"Aye, uh…," Reno began, slightly disappointed; Yazoo's hair hung in front of his face, "where'd the boss say we were puttin' him?"

"Ugh. Lemme' guess, you weren't paying attention?" Elena called over her shoulder.

Reno was now suddenly aware of how heavy the remnant was getting on his left arm. But Reno being Reno did not do anything to relieve the strain on his arm, but instead, kept limping alongside the silver-haired man.

"Wh-no, no, no. Of course I was paying attention, because, y'know, Rufus is just the most interesting guy on Earth!"

"As usual…" Elena murmured under her breath.

"It would help if you'd wait up, yo."

The petite, blond woman ignored him; she had no time for this…Reno wasn't the cause for her irate mood. She was only slightly pissed off at the fact that one of the remnants who had helped torture her and Tseng for their own gain was still alive. But the real question was, would he be for long?

And Reno, asking if they could 'kill him and get it over with, right here, right now,' made no sense because he had been the one who had disagreed to letting the youth suffer under the blazing heat of the sun. But she had to hand it to him, she hadn't really been thinking of what would happen if he'd healed on his own. What kind of chaos would he create, then? Would he pull that whole 'Mother' thing out of his ass again?

The redhead's eyes widened a bit at the sight of the longest-haired, and only surviving remnant's head lifting up, and then tilting sideways onto his own leather-clad shoulder - his face still hidden. The first thing he had thought of when he saw this pained gesture was a rag doll. A poor, beat up, dirty, rag doll.

He smirked. First, a beautiful porcelain doll with no flaws or blemishes, and now, this. The thought of that made him smile, because for the first time he'd encountered this guy, he felt oddly superior.

"Not so pretty now, are ya', doll face?"

Damn, he really needed to learn his name…

And right in that moment, it happened in a way which made Reno eat his words; Yazoo's head tilted back, fully this time, making the redhead have to hold onto him harder, as his legs were becoming uncooperative. His face, his oh so perfect face. Who could survive two explosions and still look that good? It was way above Reno, and he had wondered if Yazoo had heard what he was saying. It was right on cue; his sentence had ended, and bam, the silver-haired male lifts his head back, revealing his face, to show off those stunning features . . .

Reno ignored those full, insipid pink lips. Those high, prominent cheekbones which silvery hair framed so perfectly. Those closed eyes, and long black lashes fluttering against his cheeks…

…Dammmn.

"Reno, hurry the fuck up."

Reno did so, tearing his eyes from the clone. At least he didn't feel as bad for manhandling him now as he did then. When he had been all perfect and clean and shiny, it was hard to throw punches at him due to his…femininity. But now, it was different. He was less captivating, less enchanting…Well, now that his head swung back and his hair was hiding his face again.

"I'm coming, Mother. Gah, why don't you just - oh, shit!" It's not like Yazoo had really even been aware as to what was going on around him, but his legs failed. His body wanted to rest, it was obvious. "Yeah, uhm. You can drag him!"

Elena snapped around, her eyes narrowing. "He's that weak?"

Reno gave her a look that clearly said 'no shit.' Yazoo was near to on his knees, but, thankfully, Reno was there. For his support in walking, that is. "Dammit, Elena, I can't do this!"

"Sure you can," Elena retorted. "He's not that heavy."

"Yes the fuck he is!" Even though, no. He wasn't. "You try dragging him!" Reno's left arm was wrapped even tighter around Yazoo's waist, and that is finally when he thought maybe he could use his other arm right about now. He slithered his other arm around the clone's waist, pulling him up again. "This is impossible - fuck!"

Elena just rolled her eyes.

Reno was wishing Rude was with him right now. Oh, Rude. He would definitely be able to carry this guy without breaking a sweat. But Reno was kind of scrawny. He wrapped his arm around Yazoo's shoulders, thinking, fuck it, and wrapping his other arm behind his knees and bringing it around to where his legs were in a tight, locked grip. "Gah! Hereee we go."

Elena bit her tongue, holding her words which desperately fought to escape from her lips. She was impressed. Only a little bit, though, because truthfully, how heavy could the very slim clone be? But despite Reno's grunts and groans, it looked almost as if he were carrying him effortlessly.

Reno gasped at the sound of the boy groaning in his arms. At least, he didn't think this boy was a man yet, even though countless times that is how he addressed him far in the back of his mind... at the most, he looked about eighteen. "Hmph. Well, should we go?" Reno sighed. "I want to put him down as soon as poss..."

Reno's eyes shifted down to the clone's face, yet again. He caught a glimpse of something, some peculiar color. A mix of green and blue, narrowed, cat-like. Eyes. That voice - ah, that voice that made him shudder hammered against his eardrums. "Unn... K-Kadaaaj, is...is, you?...Nnn, Lozzz."

The short, blond woman pretended not to take notice to this.

She nodded down the hallway, and now Reno was able to almost keep up with her.

Once Yazoo was thrown into the confinements of hell (a hospital bed), Reno left. Rufus ShinRa had excused him for the day, and tomorrow, right before he was about to ask why the hell he had to drag the remnant to his room. Reno breathed a sigh of relief.

Gah, ever since that day I haven't even had a break. I deserve this, for sure.

And he did. He could only wait for the day after tomorrow, when he had "guard duty." Shall be fun.