I spent much of the night tossing and turning in bed while the evening's conversation replayed over and over again in my head. I thought not only about my precarious situation within Shinra, but about the world I had been cast out from by a chance occurrence. The people I had left behind.
Victor and I had not had time to reach our goal before Orca arrived, yet the Gateway must have been damaged in the explosion. I had been here for months now, with no sign of a rescue – or capture by Orca.
In the early days of my imprisonment, I had contemplated information-gathering and study, with the assumption that I would eventually return home to Earth. With every day that passed, though, my hopes of that ever happening dwindled. Even if the Gateway was repaired, how would they ever find me? The explosion may have been the root cause of the whole misadventure, interfering with the jump sequence in unrepeatable ways. Even if Victor had entered some random parameters to send me somewhere, anywhere, the chances of them remaining – either in the physicist's memory or in that of the computer – were slim at best.
I had to assume I was here to stay, but what did that entail? As Reno had said, I was a ghost on this world. A literal alien with no identity, no credentials, no contacts. What future could I create for myself here? Was I doomed to spend the rest of my life as either a forgotten prisoner or a guinea pig in the clutches of twisted scientists?
I could feel myself begin to slip back into the old mental paralysis at the hopelessness of it all, but this time I struggled against it. It would have been easier to just give in and hide from reality, but I didn't want to return to that numb state. It wasn't me.
In a fit of frustration, I threw the covers onto the floor, then stomped out of my room with resolute steps. I had no idea what time it was, but the corridors were still dark. Staring down the silent hallway, my determination faltered. What exactly had I hoped to accomplish by marching out of my room in the middle of the night?
Lacking a plan, I drifted into the patient lounge and took a seat on the sofa. After a few minutes of aimless examination of its meager decor, I switched on the TV. It was less a conscious decision and more of a ritual. Amanda had fretted over my tendency to sit and stare at walls, so I'd humored her with the pretense of following the news.
Staring at walls. Christ! How many hours had I spent on the couch, lost in my own little world of nothing? I ground my teeth together and glared at the screen, determined to absorb its information this time.
It was a documentary of sorts. An extended news report serving as an introduction of Shinra's new president-to-be before his inauguration. Rufus Shinra, the son of the former President Shinra, was blessed with a handsome face and a charming smile. He looked very young, considering the prestigious post. In fact, he might have been younger than me, but his calculating eyes hinted at an ambition and political cunning that far surpassed mine.
As archived footage of the older and younger Shinra flitted across the screen, accompanied by the reporter's lauding of the accomplishments of both, I took note of a certain style of dark suit that showed up every now and then, worn by different men and women in the background. I wondered how many viewers would recognize a Turk from the uniform alone. Did the common Midgar resident see them merely as Shinra's elite security guards?
Once I even caught a glimpse of the unmistakable scarlet hair I had seen so often lately, complete with the slight smirk and casual pose masking the man's true nature. How odd, the idea of Reno as a bodyguard. He neither looked nor acted the part; not even while on the job, judging by the snippet of video.
The chatter from the TV faded to background noise as my thoughts returned to our discussion. The Turk had finally completed his original task: I had told him everything. While I wasn't paranoid enough to think it had all been an elaborate ruse to discover my secrets, I knew enough of the man to peg him as cunning opportunist who would take full advantage of every opening I was foolish enough to grant him.
What on earth had possessed me to confide in him? How stupid could I be? I knew what he was, for heaven's sake. I was just too damned trusting. So bloody gullible that I hadn't even seen that my own fiancé was–
The pang in my heart made me shove that train of thought off the tracks before it could go any further.
I should have been more careful, but I wasn't used to games of duplicity – unlike the Turk, no doubt. I'd been no match for him in the interrogation room and it seemed the same applied outside of it, too.
Reno seemed more inclined to believe me this time. What would he do with the information? I wasn't naive enough to trust his claim that he only wished to sate his own curiosity. Would the Turks come for me in the morning for further interrogation? Worse, would it be Hojo waiting for me?
I became aware of my fingers tapping my thighs in an irregular rhythm. I stopped, instead flattening my palms against the cushy seat of the sofa to force them still.
I should have been well accustomed to living with a constant sense of danger, but while even frequent natural disasters were unpredictable, one could at least prepare for such contingencies. The fickleness of human behavior, especially on a foreign world, was more of a mystery to me, full of caprice. I had no idea what to expect next. The uncertainty was unbearable, gnawing at my insides until I wanted to scream.
By the time the hallways of the ward began to fill with the sounds of the staff's morning routine, I had returned my room. I lay still in bed, tense and on edge, but when the door opened, it only revealed Amanda, who came to call me into the lounge for breakfast. The nurse flitted off to continue with her duties, but joined me at the small table halfway through my bowl of grayish porridge.
"Oh, I heard something that should cheer you up. Apparently that Turk will be released today, so you should get some peace and quiet from now on." Her brow knitted when I made no reply. "What's the matter? I thought you'd be pleased?"
So did I. It was what I had been waiting for. Why, then, was the joy not as strong as I'd expected?
"I am," I reassured her with a somewhat strained smile. "I'm just having trouble believing it."
Satisfied by my excuse, Amanda then proceeded to relay the latest batch of hearsay, much of it speculation on Shinra's next president. I listened, more for the soothing effect of her voice rather than any informational value. By the time she left to continue her duties, my gut had mostly unknotted itself.
Reno didn't make an appearance that day; I couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one. When evening came, I was so exhausted by pointless conjecture that I collapsed into dreamless sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
In the morning, with the advantage of a fresh, rested mind, I decided to tackle the issue from another angle, by asking a simple question: if Victor had been sent here instead of me, what would he do? He was the one with the plans, the one who had always dreamed of seeing new worlds.
Vic would get out of this ward, for one. He would learn more about the world; gather information and then figure out how to use it. He would meet people and seek out contacts, play along, turn on the charm to make friends and allies.
God, how terrifying. There was a reason why Vic had been the one to gather sponsors and funding.
I couldn't rely on my old friend now. I couldn't keep on doing nothing, either. "Qui n'avance pas, recule," my mother would say from time to time when I was young. It had never made much sense to me at the time. Who does not move forward, steps back? It had sounded silly to the literal mind of a child. Now, however, that the proverb returned to me from forgotten recesses of my mind, its message was no longer so elusive.
I had already retreated too far, for too long. It was time to move forward, whatever the means.
The first step would be to stop wasting time and energy on speculation. I had no way of contacting Reno or influencing his actions, and therefore that particular aspect of my future was beyond my grasp. I needed to let it go.
The second step: leaving the ward. I quickly concluded that Reno was my best bet. Unlike Amanda, who was something of a stickler for the rules, the redhead held little regard for them. As a Turk, he also had the means to break them. The question was, could I persuade him to do so? Beat a Turk at his own game? Not bloody likely, but I could play along and see where it would take me.
Well, assuming the man would still be friendly the next time I saw him, that is. Assuming he would ever come back at all, now that he had completed his old mission.
A sardonic smile tugged at my lips. All this time spent wishing he'd go away, only to find a use for him just as soon as the man had been released, with no more reason to return.
Step three, then. Gathering information and meeting new people. The latter wasn't likely as long as I was confined to the ward, so I'd have to start with the former, using my two local sources. As the blonde nurse wasn't on shift yet, the news would have to suffice for now.
I had almost reached the patient lounge, when I froze mid-step upon seeing the red-haired devil himself enter the corridor at the other end. My pulse quickened while step two cavorted around my head, sending me needless reminders of my plan. I was too busy trying to figure out what to with my hands, though. All of a sudden the damned things had turned clammy and refused to stay still.
I would have made a terrible secret agent. I wondered if I was blushing too.
Reno was free of the wheelchair and somehow managed to instill a cocky swagger into the slight limp he sported.
"Hey, Fitz," he greeted as he approached.
It was too early for plans, anyway. I didn't know why the man had returned. I gave him a wary look, but the lopsided smile and lighthearted tone suggested nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, I knew how quickly that could change.
"Hey yourself. I see you're up and about now."
He looked down at himself with a happy sigh, carefully stretching out the leg that was no longer hampered by a cast.
"Yeah, 'bout fuckin' time too. I hope I never have to be stuck in a goddamn wheelchair ever again, yo."
Reno wouldn't act so amiable if he was fetching me for interrogation, would he? He couldn't be that cruel. With no obvious warnings signs on the horizon, I fell back upon the banter that had developed between us over the past few days.
"Mm, tell me about it. Was beginning to worry I'd never be rid of you. Although judging by the current evidence, that hasn't happened yet."
"Shut up, Doc, you of all people should be pleased," he chuckled, reacting in the manner I had come to expect, then produced the hands he had casually hidden behind his back to wave two paper cups in the air. "After all, it means I can get this for ya."
My eyes widened when a familiar and much longed for scent hit my nostrils.
"I don't believe it!" I cried, unable to stop the silly grin forming on my face. "You actually have coffee on this godforsaken world!"
After months without caffeine, I would have been prepared to consider a lifetime of indentured service in exchange for a cup of the liquid bliss. I therefore had no qualms about humbly accepting the Turk's charity. I snatched the cup he offered and held it up to my face. My eyes fell shut and a soft, appreciative purring sound escaped my throat as I inhaled deeply.
Beside me, Reno snickered. I could have sworn I detected a touch of satisfaction as well.
"Yeah. This place ain't quite as miserable as ya think, yo."
"Hm. I suppose next you'll tell me there's chocolate, too."
"Sure there is." He waggled his eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner. "Maybe I'll sneak ya some of that next time."
For the second time within a minute, I felt a pleasant jolt of surprise. The cocoa tree had been one of the first to suffer from Earth's changing climate. Chocolate still existed back home, but it was a pricy treat. The Turk may not have been serious about the offer, but the possibility, no matter how slim, tickled me with excitement.
"Next time" also implied his return. Step two of my scheme might yet be worth a shot.
"My word. Don't tell me you're developing an instinct for doing nice things."
I teased. I smiled. How easy it was to allow myself a playful mood, when encouraged by the miracle of coffee and promises of chocolatey goodness.
All joking aside, there was a palpable difference in my attitude, compared with as little as a week ago. Even before my decision to play along, Reno's jokes and relentless cheerfulness had begun to water down my snide remarks to a half-hearted formality. While my temper might flare from time to time and I tended to bite when provoked, I wasn't a confrontational person at heart. Prolonged animosity just wore me down.
Now, my retorts had lost the last of their sharp edge. I suspected my countenance had mellowed as well. Perhaps it was due to intense relief, combined with timid hope. Unless a cup of coffee was Gaia's equivalent of a last meal, the Turk had apparently decided to keep me under the radar for the time being.
Reno had no trouble picking up on my ameliorated frame of mind and seemed only too happy to play.
"Shit, I hope not," he gasped and pressed his free hand against his heart in feigned horror. "Might find myself without a job."
I laughed; a laugh untainted by irony or bitterness. Sheesh, how long had it been since one of those? Its ring sounded foreign to my ears.
What a topic to joke about, too. To hide the sudden mortification, I took a sip from my cup, rolling the liquid over my tongue before it trickled down my throat. Just as hot and bitter as the coffee back on Earth, but with an unusual undertone I couldn't identify. Not an unpleasant one, though.
"Can't stay long," Reno informed me. "The doc said I'm fit for duty, more or less, so it's back to the grind. Gonna be stuck in the office, tho'. Got paperwork stacked halfway to the ceiling waitin' for me on my desk."
As I listened and sipped more coffee, I let my eyes linger on the redhead before me. His hair was gathered into a thin tail that snaked down his back, but that was the full extent of his grooming efforts. The man carried his dark suit with just as much disregard for convention and elegance as before.
"Can't really imagine you as a desk jockey," I mused out loud.
The redhead made a sour face as he stirred his coffee with a wooden stick.
"You and me both, babe. Fuckin' sucks, but them's the breaks, yo."
Despite his slack posture, I found I had to tilt my head back a little if I wanted to look straight at his face. It felt strange; I had gotten used to him being seated in his wheelchair. I might have expected to be downright uncomfortable, seeing him on his own two feet and in full Turk uniform like the first time we met, but no such feelings manifested. Perhaps it was simply due to myself being upright and unfettered. Holding a cup of coffee, no less.
"I'm not your babe, Turk. I've got a name, you know."
He grinned and eyed me over the edge of his cup, taking the time to swallow a swig before responding.
"Deny it all ya want, but I know you love it, darlin'."
Maybe it was just the cheerful glint in his eyes. Reno may have been back on duty, but he wasn't visiting the ward as a Turk. I was surprised, to be honest. I would have thought his release from the infirmary would mean the end of his impromptu social calls.
I straightened my back and adopted a haughty air.
"I would rectify your sad delusions, but I have my first coffee of the year to enjoy. Priorities, you know."
"Uh huh. Keep tellin' yourself that, sweetie."
Now he was just winding me up. I shot him a glare before pointedly closing my eyes and taking a slow mouthful of the beverage. It had been far too long since I'd had a chance to indulge. Not even Reno's taunting could ruin the moment.
The gratification went deeper than just feeding an old addiction, though. Somehow, the familiar flavor alleviated the underlying alienation that never quite left me. With my eyes shut, I could almost imagine myself back in my coffee-scented kitchen. A twinge of sadness and longing joined the pleasure of the moment, resulting in bittersweet enjoyment that matched the drink's aroma.
"Well, break's over," Reno announced.
He threw back the last of his own coffee in one gulp and looked around for a trash can. Finding none within view, the redhead crushed the cardboard cup in his hand and tossed it under a nearby chair. He paused, then glanced over at me.
"Uh, don't tell Mandy that was me, 'kay?"
He was right to be worried. Amanda would definitely have a thing or several to say about inconsiderate jackasses who littered her corridors.
"Only if you promise there's more where this came from." I lifted my cup and gave it a small shake.
"It's a deal," he grinned with a sly wink. "See ya, Fitz."
I followed the man with pensive eyes as he waltzed down the corridor toward the exit, slowly swirling the dark liquid around its cup while my smile faded. I had mentioned my desire for coffee once, in passing. Reno was paying more attention to what I was saying than one might think from his careless demeanor alone, yet he hadn't even mentioned our previous conversation.
I wondered what to make of it. It couldn't be a genuine gesture of goodwill, could it? Was bribery a new tactic, employed to ease me into a more talkative mood? To talk about what, though? I had already told him about the Gateway, about my team and Orca's attack. What more could the Turk want from me?
Let it go, Tess. Just play along.
Adhering to my new motto, I sighed and headed toward the lounge, taking the time to retrieve Reno's discarded cup on the way. Not to keep him out of trouble or anything. For Amanda's sake. Of course.
