Notes: Thanks again to everyone who has helped with this! For this chapter, I must especially credit Stacey for inspiring the opening scene, and the Reno and Yuffie interaction, and Lisa for ideas concerning the one shadowing Reno, and the exchange between Yuffie and the doctor at the end.

Chapter Three

Everything around him had been set on fire. The flames leaped into the night sky, coloring it deep shades of orange and red as sparks flew in all directions. He gasped, shielding his eyes and backing away. He did not especially want any of those embers to fly into his eyes, or onto his skin or clothes.

This was some kind of a village. Through the smoke and fire, he could see houses and other buildings burning. People were screaming, running in all directions, and others lay prone on the ground, their lifeblood spilling into the grass and dirt. Obviously this had been a deliberate act. Who had done this? Who could have been so completely heartless and cruel, or mad, as to commit something this horrific?

He looked up as a middle-aged woman ran towards him, her eyes wide in panic. Her hair had come loose of the bun it had been in, and auburn wisps blew against her face, mixing with the blood and the tearstains that were drying on her cheeks and forehead. Her clothes were torn, and another person's blood was adorning them.

"What happened?" he called as she neared his location. She did not answer, instead seeming to look through him. She came closer, and closer still . . .

. . . And passed right through his body. He stared in shock as her own form vanished completely. How had she done that? What was going on here? Was he hallucinating? He whirled, looking behind him. She was continuing to run, as if he had never been in her way. He frowned deeply. Maybe he never had been. This was a dream, was it not? Maybe none of this was really happening.

And yet it seemed so real. He could feel the heat from the fire as he made his way forward again. How could it feel any more real, outside of actually burning his flesh? Where was this place? What sort of madman could have done something this abominable?

He squinted. Up ahead, he could see a dark figure emerging from a wall of flames. At his left side he held a sword, longer than any the dreamer could recall seeing, and dripping with blood. The other man was dressed entirely in black, save for the large, silverish-white shoulder armor he bore. His long hair whipped around his face, the bangs half-hiding his eyes. This was like looking in a mirror, only much more eerie. As the first man came closer, the second looked up, his expression twisted in malice, hatred, and sheer insanity. It was himself.

"What is this?" the first screamed, his voice strangled.

The second's expression only became more wild. "Don't you understand yet?" he smirked. "I'm the one who did this. And I'm you."

The first clenched a fist tightly, his eyes narrowing. "No!" he protested. "No, I didn't do this! I couldn't have! I . . . I'm a businessman! I've never been here, and I wouldn't set fire to it even if I came!" He reached out, grabbing the other by his leather-clad upper arms. "What kind of trick is this?"

The second leaned in, his green eyes glittering with madness. "You've been blind. Your life's a lie. I'm the real you," he murmured. "You don't remember right now, but you will. And when you do, this will happen again, but not only to a small place like Nibelheim. It will be the entire world."

Anger and outrage washed over the dreamer. What nonsense was this? It could not be true! He would not commit an atrocity of this magnitude. He would not kill innocent people. He had not taken leave of his senses, as this man obviously had done, and he was not going to do so.

Now he shook his twin. "Can't you see what you've done?" he cried. "Can't you see the horror you've left for all these people? Don't you regret it at all?"

The other did not seem to mind being shaken. Instead he brought the long sword up, holding it in front of the first's face. "I've never regretted anything that I've done," he answered. "It had to be done. Call me evil if you like, or an avenging angel. It doesn't matter." He grinned again in a twisted way. "What does matter, is that you should remember how to use this." Now he thrust it, forcing the sane one to let go and back up. The second only advanced again, still bearing the blade in his left hand as he moved forward deliberately.

"Take it," he ordered. "Take it and show me that you can use it."

The first continued to move away, a certain panic rising within him. No, he would not take it! He would not take hold of such a weapon, that had been stained with innocent blood! But he had to wonder . . . was the real reason he did not want it, because he was afraid he would indeed know how to use it? That was absurd. He knew that he had never held a sword.

"I won't take it!" he snapped back.

The insane man, whom the first refused to think of as himself, only smirked more. Without warning he turned his weapon so that the hilt was pointing outward, and threw it. Out of reflex, the other jumped back, holding out his hands to catch it. The sword sailed into his grasp, and he curled his strong fingers around the hilt.

He was both stunned and angry at how natural it felt. He wanted to throw the weapon to the ground, leaving it for this creature to pick up again, but it would not leave his hands. He gripped it tightly, threateningly, pointing it at his double.

"You like it, don't you," the second grinned. "Keep it. It's yours. And of course that makes it mine, too."

Fury overcame all his other feelings then. He thrust the blade down, into the dirt, glaring defiantly at his wicked twin. He would not keep it. He wanted no part of this! He had to make himself awaken from this nightmare.

The second walked forward, his expression twisting into an even more wicked sneer. "Look what you've done," he hissed. "Just look." His gaze fell to the ground as a cruel chuckle began from somewhere in his throat.

The first felt a cold chill come over him. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He looked down, dreading what he would see. There should not be anything out of the ordinary; he had simply stuck the sword into the ground. But now, as he stared down, he saw the body of a young woman impaled through the blade. Her green eyes looked up glassily, lifelessly, into his, as the blood spilled from the wound in her stomach and trailed across the dirt, meeting his shoes. It was the same girl whom he had seen in his other dream, the girl whom he had supposedly killed when jumping down to her from above.

He backed up, unspeakable horror and revulsion sweeping over him. No! No, this could not be! She had not been there! He had not killed her! No! He had not burned the village! He had not done any of these treacherous acts! It was all a dream! A nightmare! It had no truth to it!

Abruptly his shoulder was gripped, painfully. He winced, turning to face his attacker, and saw his double there again. His expression was still filled with madness and twisted delight, and now there was accusation in those eyes as well. He leaned in again, making certain that the first would hear his hissed tones.

"Murderer! You're a murderer!"

Sephiroth gasped, letting out a choked cry as his eyes flew open. He was still half in his horrible nightmare, but he could feel that something truly was clutching at his shoulder. Immediately his hands flew up to pull it away. He touched what felt like soft cloth over a slender arm, and he turned wild eyes to meet the puzzled and concerned eyes of his assistant.

He slumped back, the present fully washing over him. It had just been a dream then. It had seemed so real, but it had not been, no matter how that . . . other him had tried to say that it was so. He was not a murderer. He had not burned the village of Nibelheim. He was still what he believed himself to be, an honorable businessman.

"Hey!" Now his other shoulder was gripped as well. "Hey, Sephiroth, are you okay?"

He came to attention, looking up at the younger man through the bangs that had fallen across his emerald eyes. Cloud was obviously worried. Had he done or said something in his sleep that had concerned the other? And if so, what would it have been?

Slowly he nodded. "I'm . . . I'm fine," he answered. Hopefully his voice sounded more even to Cloud than it did to him.

Cloud frowned, unconvinced, as he stepped back. "I woke up a while ago and saw that you'd dozed off," he said, "so I was trying to do some work quietly. But then you started screaming." He crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the desk.

Sephiroth ran a hand through his hair, causing his bangs to stand up even more than they already did. This was the second time this night that he had fallen asleep and dreamed something unsettling about himself. And in both dreams, that girl had been there. Who was she? Why was he dreaming about her? Had he seen her somewhere recently and it had stayed in his subconscious? But why would he dream, twice, that he had killed her?

He sighed now, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. "Was I saying anything?" he asked.

Cloud nodded. "You said something about . . . not having burned down some village," he recalled, frowning again. "And that you hadn't killed anyone. Whatever you were dreaming must have been nuts."

Sephiroth only grunted in reply. "Nuts"---that was a good word for it. Just as long as that was all it happened to be, and not a distorted reflection of some long ago reality. Oh, what was he thinking? It was preposterous to even consider at all that something like that could have occurred. Still, of all names that could randomly appear in dreams, why "Nibelheim"? Where on earth would he had ever heard that word before? It sounded entirely unfamiliar to him.

He frowned thoughtfully, looking up at Cloud. "Does the name 'Nibelheim' mean anything to you?" he asked.

Cloud blinked. "No. Should it?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "Not especially." At least, he hoped so.

He looked back to the computer. "There's still work to be done," he remarked, as he typed in the login prompt. Quickly the desktop screen loaded. The clock in the bottom corner read two in the morning. After falling asleep twice, it did not seem hopeful that he, at least, would get much more done. But now, more than ever, he did not want to sleep again. He did not want to see those horrors, or to encounter that dark version of himself. He did not want to be told that his life was a lie, that he actually was a twisted and compassionless killer. It was not true!

Cloud watched him, his expression never letting up. Sephiroth was a withdrawn person, a lot of the time, but still Cloud had come to know him quite well, in five years. It did not even take that knowledge, however, to understand that something was greatly amiss. He had never seen the other so visibly shaken before by a dream, or by anything at all, actually.

"You look pale." He spoke quietly, not accusingly. The older man's hands were shaking as he attempted to resume the work he had been doing.

"I'm fine," Sephiroth retorted. Cloud could hear that an edge had slipped into his voice.

The blonde moved away from the desk. "I'm going to get back to work too," he announced. Sephiroth would never tell him anything at this point, but Cloud had learned that if he backed off for a while, his boss would sometimes say what was bothering him. Maybe now would be one of those times.

He crossed the room to the water cooler, then took a paper cup from the stack and had it filled. When he was satisfied with the amount, he released the button and brought the cup to his lips. Behind him he could hear Sephiroth beginning to type again. The movement of his fingers sounded unsteady, his mind still obviously occupied with whatever had disturbed him in his sleep. Cloud did not really expect him to speak, at least not yet. He blinked in surprise when he heard the other's deep voice.

"I dreamed that I was in a burning village."

Cloud half-turned, looking over at the silver-haired man. Sephiroth was leaning back in the chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. Apparently he realized that he was not going to get any work done right now. Cloud leaned an elbow on the top of the water cooler, staying silent to listen.

"There were people everywhere, running . . . some laying on the ground, bleeding. There had been a deliberate attack of some kind." He paused, and his expression grew more troubled. "I saw the one who had done it. He was obviously out of his mind. His eyes were filled with a madness and a hatred that I've never seen before."

Cloud sensed that there was something else. Sephiroth had not told yet what was actually bothering him. Now he looked sickened.

"He was me. . . ."

Cloud stared him at shock. "But that's not possible," he said at last. "You . . . you've never done anything like that!"

Sephiroth nodded vaguely, his thoughts still occupied. He picked up a pen, turning it around in his hands. "Do you . . . think that I would ever be capable of losing my mind?" The question was slow, deliberate, and hesitant. He had been thinking on it for some time, and was afraid of the answer.

Cloud threw the empty cup into the garbage can. "Of course not," he retorted, his voice coming out more harsh than he had intended. He checked himself and sighed, running a hand through his wild spikes. "You're a good person," he said now, lowering his tone. "You would never go massacre some village."

Sephiroth did not look convinced. "If I lost my mind, there's no telling how I would act. Good people can and do go insane."

Cloud walked over to the desk again. "But you haven't lost your mind," he said. "You're fine. Nothing's going to happen to change that." He crossed his arms, his blue-green eyes narrowing. "You're too strong a person to lose yourself."

Sephiroth sighed, setting the pen back down again. He wanted to believe that was true. He was annoyed anyway that a dream, just a dream, had shaken him this badly. He was a practical, logical person. He knew what had happened in his life. He knew he was not the man he had seen in the flames. Still, he could not help wondering if he had such a mad side locked in his mind somewhere. What would happen if it was ever released?

A seed of doubt had been planted.

He frowned, using his mental willpower to push it aside. What foolishness. In the morning, he would wonder why he had let figments of his imagination upset him so much. He turned back to the computer.

"Nevermind," he said now. "Let's get back to work."

Cloud frowned a bit as well. He could tell that the matter was closed for now. With a sigh he turned and went to his own desk.

Reno sighed as he turned another corner. This city was not familiar to him at all, and it looked more primitive than anything on Gaia. There were still automobiles and motorcycles, but he had seen that they were not capable of what Gaia's vehicles could do. They were not as fast, nor did they have any other special abilities. That was the least of his worries, though it did further his suspicions that somehow they had ended up on another planet.

He could still hear Loz behind him, sniffling in despair. The big man insisted he was not crying, and Reno was not in the mood to argue. He did not even want to be with Loz in the first place. Well, that was saying too little. He did not want to be in this strange world at all. He wanted to be back home, and return to the assignment he and Rude had been on for Rufus.

"Well, this is a sight I didn't think I'd ever see."

It was a female voice, and one that sounded strangely familiar. Reno narrowed his eyes. Where had he heard it before? It had not been recently. He whirled around, confused, as he tried to find the speaker. No one was in sight. The street was silent, and wet from the rain that had only stopped several moments ago. Reno had thought that he and Loz were probably the only ones walking around at this time of the night.

Now there was a soft chuckle. "Over here," chirped the voice.

Reno followed it to a nearby alley, looked in, and immediately went pale. Sitting on a crate was a young woman wearing a pink dress and a red-violet mini-jacket. A black ribbon was around her neck, and two locks of her auburn hair fell over her shoulders. The rest was pulled into a braid down her back. She smiled impishly, her green eyes bright.

"It looks like you and Loz are grudging allies, at least for now," she commented.

Reno swallowed his immense shock. Instead he smirked, crossing his arms. "And just when I thought I'd seen it all," he remarked. "So, did you get sent back too, like Loz?"

She shook her head. "Zack and I came here to try to help you get things straightened out," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "We haven't been given mortal forms again."

Reno shifted, dropping his hands to his sides. "So wait, you're a ghost?" he gasped.

She looked amused. "I guess you could say that," she said.

"Hoo boy. . . ." Reno shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He was not entirely sure that he liked this development. Plus, it was just ironic, that he would see Aerith after her death, when he had often been trying to catch her for Shinra when she had been alive. Or maybe it had been planned that way. He could easily imagine that Aerith would find such a twist amusing.

"So I can see ghosts now," he said. "Rude'd really think I was crazy if I told him that." Then he paused, fully digesting what else Aerith had told him. "Whoa, whoa, hold on, you say I have to fix this?" he exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "Hey, Cloud's the hero. Not me! I'm not hero material!"

The gentle mirth did not leave. "But Cloud doesn't remember anything right now, and you do," she informed him.

Reno fell back, trying to digest this news. Cloud did not remember? Cloud, the one who had defeated Sephiroth more than once in the fight to bring peace to Gaia? How could he forget, while Reno, a Turk and sometimes an antagonist, remembered? That did not make sense. Well, nothing else did, either.

"So what's Cloud now?" Reno asked, blinking. "A busboy at a fast food place?"

She chuckled. "No. But I can't tell you where he is. You have to find him, and the others, yourself." She stood up now, walking over to the bewildered redhead and starting to pass him by. "Some are closer than you might think."

Reno turned as she walked past. Was she leaving already? She had just got there! He needed more information! "Okay," he said slowly, "but how did this happen, anyway?" He grabbed for her arm, hoping to hold her back. Instead, he winced as he took hold of thin air. Trying to stop a ghost really was pointless.

She looked back. "You don't need to know right now," she smiled. "Just work on finding everyone else. I'll be in touch. Maybe you'll see Zack, too." With that she walked out of the alley, and as Reno turned more, his ponytail whipping around his neck, he found that she was gone. There was no indication that she ever had been there, either. All was quiet, just as one would expect at such a late hour.

He slumped back. So now he knew hardly anything more than he had a moment earlier, except that Aerith's ghost was probably going to turn up whenever he least expected it. Not to mention Zack's as well. How fun, he thought sarcastically. He sighed, adjusting the goggles on his forehead before starting to walk out of the alley. "Well," he said aloud to nothing in particular, "I guess it's time to get down to business." He certainly was not adverse to locating everyone else who had come from his world. Aerith's news only made him want to all the more.

He frowned slightly when he did not hear anything at all in response to his comment. Now that he thought of it, where was Loz, anyway? He had thought the other had been right behind him. He cursed under his breath. He should have made sure that they stayed together! If Loz was wandering off by himself, there was no telling what the extent of the trouble would be that he could get into.

He cast his gaze up and down the brightly-lit street. Maybe Loz had gone into one of the buildings. There was a diner across the street. If he had gotten hungry, or if he had thought he had seen someone familiar in there, he might have ventured over there. It was worth a try, at least. Reno shrugged to himself, lazily starting the walk across the empty road. "Here goes nothing," he declared.

Making it to the other side without incident, the Turk sighed and started to walk up the path leading into the diner. It looked like a nice enough, quiet place, but his opinion on the latter changed immediately when he opened the heavy door and heard the angry and indignant yelling from the back.

"You don't have any right to tell me what to do, you . . . you insect!"

"It's just a suggestion for how you can keep from falling again."

"I don't need suggestions from you!"

"You're a meanie!"

Reno smirked slightly in amusement. There was Loz. And the other two voices sounded familiar too. Maybe now he was getting somewhere. He strolled forward to the booth in the back, studying its occupants. Loz was sitting on the edge of it, his hands and arms on the table. Kadaj was next to him, on his left, and was propping himself up on one elbow while keeping his other hand on his knee. To Kadaj's left was a strange character Reno had never seen before, which looked like a humanoid male with mismatched wings. It shifted uncomfortably, looking embarrassed by the argument.

What Reno found most intriguing, however, was the fact that Yuffie Kisaragi was standing in front of the booth, her hands on her hips as she yelled at Kadaj. She was dressed strangely, in a white blouse and a blue, flaring skirt. Reno did not think he ever recalled a time when he had seen her in anything but shorts. Now she almost looked formal, which seemed so out of place for her. And on her feet were things she had never mastered---roller skates.

Reno grinned cheekily. "And what are we up to?" he said casually.

Yuffie started at the new voice, whirling on her skates to look. "Reno?" she gasped, her eyes widening.

"Oh-hoh, you missed me," he continued to tease, "and you remember!" It was definitely a relief, as well, to know that he and Loz were not the only ones. Actually, Kadaj acted as though he did, as well. And it only made Reno all the more confused as to why Rude did not. He wished that Aerith would have stayed to explain these mysteries. He would certainly demand to know, the next time he saw her.

Yuffie glowered. "How could I forget an obnoxious guy like you?" she retorted, yelping as she swayed on the bothersome skates. She flung her arms out desperately, trying to regain her balance. But the wheels she was wearing were not having any of it. She pitched forward, starting to coast down the aisle. Before either she or Reno could do anything about it, she met him with force and they were going down in a tangled heap, while all the customers looked on in shock.

It was a good moment before Reno was able to get past enough of his dazed feelings to fully grasp the awkward situation. He was sprawled on his back on the floor, and Yuffie was sprawled across him. She seemed to realize it at the same time, and immediately she got to her knees, pushing herself away and sitting uncomfortably on the floor.

"Oww!" she muttered, rubbing her right ankle. She looked over, glaring at Reno in an accusatory way. This was his fault, after all!

The redhead only shrugged as he pulled himself into a sitting position as well. "Hey, I don't know what Kadaj told you, but maybe you should have taken his advice," he smirked. His hand flew to the back of his head, rubbing at a spot that was suddenly sore. He wished that he had either been able to catch her or that he could have gotten out of the way before her unceremonious spill. Or better yet, he wished that she had been able to control herself.

"Kinda weird, isn't it," he mused now.

She looked up again. She had been in the process of untying the right skate, and now she was holding it in her hand. Her expression warned that the redhead had better watch what came out of his mouth. Honestly, she had been having a ridiculous day as it was, without matching wits with him!

"I mean, you're trained in the ninja arts," Reno went on, ignoring her look, "and yet you can't stay up on those things. But kids who know nothing about being a ninja can handle them with ease. I've seen Marlene on them sometimes, moving just like a pro." He grinned triumphantly.

She gripped the object tightly, her knuckles going white. "Ohhh! I'd like to see you do better!" she snapped, and abruptly threw it at him.

Reno ducked, and a moment later he heard a crash as it hit the wall. This was followed by a customer's angry curse. The redhead turned, glancing over to see an outraged, middle-aged man gingerly holding up the offending footwear.

"Watch where you're throwing these things!" he yelled at Yuffie, and promptly tossed it back.

She glared as she caught it. "I was watching!" she retorted. "I just wasn't expecting him to duck!"

"My, so violent tonight," Reno scolded mockingly. "Are you trying to get yourself fired?"

"I don't care!" she shot back, setting the skate upright on the floor as she began to undo the laces of the other as well. If this activity was something she wanted to do, she might have continued to try, but this fall was the figurative last straw. She did not want to be here at all. She did not even understand what had happened, and she wanted to be home. She wanted to know why she was not home. She had been, not that long ago.

"Hey, we might be here a while," Reno answered easily. "You might wanna hold on to a job." Even as he spoke, he knew that he was a hypocrite. After all, he had certainly not wanted to stay with the job of being a bouncer, especially when Rude recalled nothing about him. He wished that he could simply round up everyone and get them back to Gaia, but realistically he knew it would not be that easy. He needed to figure out how to restore Rude's and Cloud's memories, and anyone else who needed it. And also, it bothered him that Aerith had not been willing to say what had caused this disaster.

"I don't want this one!" Yuffie declared. She gripped tighter at the left skate, her frustration building as it stubbornly remained on her foot. She pulled again, yelling a curse at the inanimate object as she raised her left leg into the air. At last the footwear slipped off, her appendage crashing back to the floor as it was released of the pressure. The girl winced again, muttering as she placed the left skate next to the right one.

Silence reigned for what seemed a long moment. At last, a soft, concerned voice spoke.

"Um . . . are you okay?"

Yuffie started, looking up at the winged creature. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, annoyed with herself. Reno was right, it was ridiculous that she was not able to manuever on those roller skates. Why had it been so hard? Well, nevermind that now. There were more important matters, like finding the others. Between Loz and Kadaj, she had learned what had been going on around town, and she was not pleased in the least. All of the others must be here, somewhere. She needed to find them! She just hoped that the rest of them would not be like Rude.

Now Reno started to get to his feet. "Well, at least things are a little easier, now that I've found two of you," he said, glancing from Yuffie to Kadaj. "I guess the next step is to find all the rest. You guys can help me."

"Easier said than done!" Yuffie moaned, resuming the rubbing of her right ankle. It had been hurting since the last fall, and now that she had taken off her sock, she could see that it looked red. She frowned at it.

"Hey, what happened to your determination?" Reno answered easily. "Don't worry about it! How hard can it be?" He was not about to reveal his own concerns, but it was likely that people had been scattered all over this area, possibly all over the entire planet. It could take ages to find everyone. It would help if they had some reliable means of transportation, such as a car or even an airplane. But then again, he had no idea where to continue looking. They probably needed to stop and thoroughly check each city that they found.

Now Yuffie turned her glare to Reno. "You're so arrogant, just because you managed to find us!" she said in irritation.

Reno shrugged. "That's two less people I need to find," he said.

He watched as Yuffie started to get up. She moved carefully, grabbing a nearby table with which to steady herself and leaning on it heavily as she tried to get her footing. She was favoring her left side, and Reno could see how sore her right ankle looked.

"It looks like you need to take a trip to the doctor," he commented nonchalantly.

"I'm fine!" she snapped immediately, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. She was not going to take advice from Reno, of all people. Both he and Kadaj had been teasing her, and she felt a certain need to show them that she was strong. Still, she just wanted to sink down into the booth. Even trying to put most of her weight onto her left foot could not take all of the pain away. But she would be alright in a few minutes.

"Maybe you should listen to him," Kadaj remarked boredly, watching her attempt to steady herself on their table. "It's not like you've been much help around here. And you're not going to be able to walk easily on that ankle."

"No one asked you!" Yuffie said, her glare smouldering.

Loz and the winged being exchanged a weary, resigned look. Apparently they were both as tired of this as Reno was inwardly. And Kadaj's boredom showed the same from him.

"We know what the end result will be," Reno smiled, "so why keep wasting time?"

Yuffie was about to reply when a new shadow fell between her and the redhead. She looked up with a start, finding herself facing a tall, rough-looking man with Loz's build and dark brown hair. The tag over his pocket read "Manager." To her side, she heard Reno mutter an "Oh boy." Judging from the man's angry expression, he was not going to be forgiving about the commotion.

"What's all the noise?" he growled, looking from Yuffie to Reno and back again. "No one has shut up since you got here," he said accusingly to the dark-haired girl. "And it's only gotten worse since he got here," he added, jerking a thumb in Reno's direction. "You jokers have been disrupting the peace and quiet of this establishment. I've had several customers come complain about you in the last five minutes!"

"It's just a friendly discuss . . ." Reno tried to interject.

"'Friendly', my foot," the manager retorted. He grabbed Yuffie's arm roughly as he started to pull her away from the table. "Look, I've seen and heard enough to know that you're not going to work out here. Get your things together and get out."

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, stumbling as he dragged her. "I was trying!" She tried to pull away, biting back a wail of pain as she stepped down hard on her right foot. She hated to admit that the guys were right; she needed to have something done about it. Not that she would say so aloud.

To her shock, it was Loz who came to her defense. He got up, taking hold of the man's wrist and wrenching the hand away from Yuffie's arm. "Hey, leave her alone," he said, frowning at the unfriendly character. This manager did not want to "play"; he seemed to be the sort that was hard to get along with, and Loz did not like that kind of person.

Yuffie watched this, trying to inch her way past them as she did. She had never known Loz, though she had heard Reno sometimes say that the big silver-haired man had a childlike mind. It had seemed odd to her, but she had seen evidence of exactly that during the time that he had been here. He and Kadaj's friend Alexander seemed to get along fairly well, though the doppelganger also seemed able to communicate with ease with Kadaj.

As she moved along, she was suddenly grabbed by Reno, who was smirking in amusement. "Okay, it's time for us to go find the nearest hospital," he said, and before she could do anything except open her mouth in shock, he was hoisting her across his shoulders and heading for the door. As they neared it, the girl finally found her voice and began letting loose with a stream of insults and curses at the redhead. After all, how dare he treat her this way! She could easily beat him up if he set her down, and if her ankle would cooperate. He was just lucky that he was holding onto her so firmly. Otherwise, he would be sorry!

The redhead barely paid attention to her ranting. He had heard it all before, and much worse, from others he had met during his time as a Turk. So instead he calmly pushed the door open with his foot and stepped outside, while in the background he heard somebody punch somebody else. Hopefully, he thought, Loz had struck the manager, instead of the other way around. But either way, it was possible that there would be a brawl.

He was writing on a clipboard in one of his patients' rooms, several locks of his shoulder-length hair falling into his eyes as he did. He barely noticed, both because it happened so often and because he was involved in updating Mrs. Peterson's condition. She had improved since the previous night, and if she continued to do so, she would be able to be released within the next few days. Her children would certainly be grateful.

And he would be relieved as well. His job was rewarding, when he could see people getting well and to know that he may have helped in some small way. And on the other hand, he always hated it when he had to deliver bad news. He was awkward with doing much speaking as it was, but to tell someone that they or a loved one was terminally ill, or to report on someone's demise, was almost unbearable. Sometimes they would accept it stoically, or numbly, and that was alright, but others would break into tears, unable to be consoled. He never had figured out the best way of responding when they lost control.

"Doctor?"

He looked up at the nurse's voice. She had brushed the unruly lock of her cropped blonde hair behind her right ear, and she was watching him with hopeful blue eyes.

"Oh good," she smiled now. "You're just finishing."

He set the clipboard back in its compartment at the end of the bed and walked to the door in silence. As he stepped into the corridor, he carefully pulled the heavy door shut behind him. "What is it?" he asked in a flat tone.

She pouted slightly. "I see you're in your usual good mood," she remarked. "Anyway, there's a new patient out in the waiting room, and you're the first doctor I've found who's free." He was actually the first doctor she had looked for, as she considered him the most skilled of all of them. But he did not need to know that, if he did not already. And knowing him, she honestly would not be surprised if he did.

He grunted, starting to walk up the hall. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"She fell and twisted her ankle or something," the blonde answered. "She came in being carried in by this weird redhead, and they were yelling at each other. Another nurse asked what happened, and the guy said she'd fallen off a pair of roller skates."

"She probably did, then," he said in a detached voice.

She frowned. "Why would anyone be roller skating in the middle of the night?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "You'd be surprised what some people do," he replied as they arrived at the entrance to the waiting room. He walked in ahead of her, going over to where the two were sitting.

The last thing he was expecting upon their arrival was for both the girl and the guy to jump up, wide-eyed, and stare at him and the nurse. And he expected even less for them to suddenly shout out names---their names, as a matter of fact.

"Elena!" cried the redhead.

"Vinnie!" yelped the injured girl, and promptly started to tumble over from the pressure on her ankle.

The physician quickly reached out, catching her as she fell. "Ah . . . you're loud," he said then, his reaction to her loud voice having been delayed by the would-be spill. He paused, mulling over what she had suddenly exclaimed. He gave her a deadpan look. "And it's Vincent."