Over My Head

"All targets are in the premises," came Tseng's tinny voice over our radios.

"All fourteen?" I inquired, just so I could double check.

"All fourteen," came the static reply.

"What're you packing?" asked Rude, while he stood beside me, and glanced down at where I kept my gun.

".50," I replied, pulling it out of my holster and arming it, as he did the same.

"You?"

".50."

We were standing in the alley, just outside our target, while Tseng and Jared were in a deserted building across from the front of the place we were getting ready to raid. Our target was a small house, one that was abandoned, and now occupied by fourteen men that we were ordered to take out.

It started with a transmission I intercepted while secretly collecting a specimen for Kurn, so he could re-enact what had and will happen to Rufus, since the merging of the Jenova cells was a success. It was my idea, and my suggestion, and Kurn seemed to be without hesitation as he eagerly went along with what I had in mind.

I knew it seemed extreme. But I had to be sure. No mistakes could be made, especially when Rufus' well-being was involved.

I'll confess I had a little bit of a dark side at times, and Rufus was kept unaware of my plans, while I simply worked my personal endeavour into what was believably led to be a maintenance flight. Twenty minutes, I had, to land and contain a human subject, and return it inconspicuously to the lab. It took me thirty minutes, since the specimen was a struggler, leaving marks that I had to conceal from Rufus.

Hiding them was easy enough to do though, since Rufus and I had gotten into another one of our stupid fights and I was sleeping in the spare room again. I figured I'd hold up the silent treatment that he always went along with willingly, until the marks were healed. Then we could have another fight, so that we could make up. The routine was easy enough to play out. We'd been doing it since the start.

The transmission I received was that of a small group of the LANDSLIDE terrorists that were manufacturing the Mako/Meteor serum right under our noses in the Midgar region. Luckily for me, Rufus believed that it was something I could handle and allowed me to go along with the others. Of course, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have to beg him repetitively to let me participate. But I couldn't say I wasn't grateful, since it was beginning to feel like years since I'd been out on the field, and I really needed this. I needed it to help me feel alive again.

"You got enough cartridges?" Rude asked me.

"There's only fourteen of 'em," I replied, pulling out two spare cartridges that I was sure I wasn't going to need, and showed them to him.

The terrorists were believed to be heavily armed, and we were ordered to take all but one of them out, because we needed one for questioning. And we were well-prepared since Tseng and Jared had been surveying the place for a little over three weeks, to see what they could learn about them before we got the go ahead to enter with force.

Our job was a simple one, since we weren't after the whereabouts of the leader or anything that elaborate. In fact, this particular job was to find out the source of their supplies, so we could take it out and cut them off from fucking any more of us up. And once that was done, we were to destroy the supplies that were present within the premises.

"Ya think the new kid is up to this?"

"You've been training with him," Rude replied, while keeping his attention on the back door of the worn out house, "You tell me.

It wasn't that I was concerned that the kid couldn't handle the flying of bullets and such. He'd been working with Tseng and Rude for some time now. What I was concerned about, was the fact that this was going to be the first interrogation he'd be taking part in. And there was the strong possibility that some forceful incentives were going to have to be put in place, and since this was going to be the first time for him, it was likely that we'd be letting him do all the questioning…

If you know what I mean.

"Any time, Tseng," I called into the radio. I had to admit I was starting to get a little impatient and could hardly wait to see some action again, and if I were to be honest, the wait was really starting to get to me.

"Not yet," was the reply.

"Not yet," I mumbled, with a frustrated undertone and desperately wanting to light a cigarette while Rude looked over at me and shook his head. He knew me well enough to take a good guess at what was going through my mind. But whether he was right or not, was totally beyond me.

"You've been edgy lately," he commented.

"Mm."

I knew damn well he didn't want to know why. Anything to do with Rufus and me made Rude clam up like he was facing the Midgar Golem. And he hated that thing with an unspoken passion. But for some strange reason, he was in a talkative mood that night. Maybe it was because he was excited at the thought of meeting up with Tifa after this to let off some of the excess adrenaline that this night was about to build up.

"You two fighting?"

"Fightin…" I mumbled, and pulled out a toothpick to chew on. "He thinks something went on between me an Haldric," I blurted out, while regretting it the second the words left my mouth.

Fucking idiot!

Then he turned his head slowly from the door and looked at me with that strong sense of disapproval that he emanated so well at times, "What did you tell him?"

"Told him he was all I had."

"And then?"

"And then I cleaned up the shattered ashtray from the floor and went into the spare room."

"…" With his trademark silence that I could almost hear like a silent code on the wind, he turned his head back to the door and slightly shook it, "He's going to find out, Reno."

"He already fuckin knows," I whispered harshly, while realizing that the whole topic was making me tense up more than I needed to be, "Why the fuck else would he be askin?"

"…"

"I can't fuckin tell him."

"…"

"What the fuck am I gonna say?"

"The truth."

"The truth," I muttered. Then I bit down on my toothpick and hissed through my teeth, "What the fuck would that be?"

"The truth," he replied, while still focusing on the door.

"Truth."

"Mm."

"Well," I said, before snapping the toothpick in half and grabbing another one, "I can't fuckin tell 'im that."

"Then don't."

"Fuck, yer a lotta help. Ya know that?"

He let out a deep sigh of annoyance at that point, and then he looked down at his radio when Tseng radioed that it was time.

"Ready?" Rude asked.

"More'n ready," I replied, as we moved in unison toward the back door.

Maybe I was edgy, because I wanted nothing more than to go in there and blow some heads off for no real reason at all. You know, to let off a little steam.

If you'd all like, I can indulge in what went on with me and Rufus; it started out innocently enough…

We were both exhausted from overexerting ourselves, as I fell onto my back on the bed and Rufus crawled up to lay his head on my shoulder. He was still somewhat wrapped up in that place where thought had no more importance after spilling his seed all over my hands, and was running his fingers along the deep scar that Cloud left me with when they were trying to stop me from dropping the plate on Sector 7.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, while lightly moving his fingers over the deep groove that ran diagonally from below my left rib and left a mirroring scar on my back, from where it came out on the other side.

"Sometimes," I answered, and reached over to grab my cigarettes from the end table, while making every effort not to get my body involved.

"He nearly killed you."

"Yeah, well, between that and the broken ribs an arm that Tifa left me with..." I muttered, while holding the cigarette between my lips and lighting it, not bothering to lift my head, "I'm surprised he didn't."

"He likes you, you know." At that, he lifted his head so he could watch my expression, while I let out a low cynical snicker.

"That why he tried ta kill me?"

"No," he answered. Then he moved his head back and stared into space again, "I mean he likes you now."

Snickering again, at his ridiculous comment, I took a drag from my cigarette and decided to add my own, personal, opinion, "I really don't think he swings that way, Rufus."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"He's a little on the manly side," I replied, remembering how he was always kicking the shit out of me, "I jus don't see it."

"Maybe you don't see it because you don't want to."

"I think I don't see it, because he ain't."

"You can be very dense sometimes," he suggested, as he looked up at me again, "It would be healthier if you'd just give up on your denial."

"Denial?" I asked, "Ya tryin to tell me I'm in denial over some straight guy wantin to get busy with me?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you're in denial whenever it comes to other men," he rectified, while running his fingers over the scar again. "It's going to get you into trouble."

"Whatever, Rufus," I muttered. Then I started chuckling again and lightly patted him on the top of the head, "An ya think yer insane jealousy is healthy, do ya?"

"I never said it was. But at least I can admit that I'm jealous."

"Let me ask ya somethin, then, on a different topic." Because the one he was on was going to go nowhere.

"What's that?"

"Ya ever get the desire to try it the other way?"

"The other way?"

"Yeah, ya know, with me?" I asked, somewhat regretting that he might take it as an offer.

I could feel his breath across my shoulder and felt him shift uneasily, before he answered in a tone I could barely hear, "I'm not sure if I'd know what to do."

"It's just like bein with a woman," I said, pulling myself so I could sit up a bit, and playfully asked, "Ya gonna tell me ya never got kinky with one?" Then I ran my free hand through his hair before teasingly rustling it, "Or do ya jus save that crazy shit fer me?"

I couldn't help but feel like I struck a nerve or something all of the sudden though, because he tensed up a little, and dug his fingers into my gut a little roughly, before he answered in a low and distant voice, "I've never been with a woman," while he continued to stare at the wall to my right.

"Bullshit!" I confronted, and sat up a bit more, "I've seen ya with 'em, right from when ya were like, what? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Did it never occur to you that those women were never seen again?"

"So, what're ya sayin, Rufus?" I demanded, and grabbed a handful of his hair to force him to look at me so I could see it for myself from his eyes, "Ya lured 'em in so ya could kill 'em?"

"No!" he suddenly growled, while his whole body tensed up like a cuahl getting ready to attack, "I'm saying that I never had any intention to sleep with the whores that my father set me up with!"

"So, ya murdered 'em instead?" I asked, while letting go of his hair and pushing his head away, "Shit, Rufus, yer fucked up."

"No more fucked up than you!" he spat back, "I'm not the one who requested to drop the plate on my own home!"

"They fuckin deserved it," I retorted, before angrily getting off the bed and looking for my boxers.

"Oh?" he asked, with a sudden and amused calm, and added, "All of them?" Then he reached over and grabbed the bottom to his pyjamas since we were obviously done with whatever sensitive moment we were sharing moments ago, "The women and children too?"

"Fuck off, Rufus," I warned, as I put my cigarette out in the ashtray and grabbed another one, "If I did'n do it, someone else would've."

"Yes, but I doubt they would have requested to do it."

"Shut the fuck up. I ain't goin there."

"Why not?" he asked. Then he picked his shirt up from the floor and started putting it on, "Is there something you wanted to bury there? Or someone?"

"I said shut the fuck up, Rufus!" I warned him again, while pointing my finger threateningly at him, even though it had nothing more than an imaginary impact on my part.

"I may have shot the odd woman, here and there," he said, coolly, while doing up his buttons and waving his hand to either side like he was simply talking about where he'd travelled, "But I never destroyed a whole Sector just to hide something." Then he lifted his bitter and conniving eyes to me and glared menacingly, "Is that why you requested it? To make sure that you could destroy all the evidence?"

"You spiteful little shit!" I yelled, and threw the ashtray at the wall, just missing him by a fraction, and he didn't even flinch.

Then his eyes narrowed and shadowed over while he coolly stood there and chillingly demanded, "Clean that up."

"You fuckin clean it up," I retorted, before making my way for the door to stress the fact that I wasn't his little bitch, "You're the one that's bothered by it."

But before I got a foot from the door, Rufus had lunged forward and threw himself in front of it, blocking me off from the only escape from that room. "Before you go into the other room to sulk," he growled, while looking like he'd gone completely mad, "Just tell me one thing."

"What the fuck is that, Rufus?" I angrily asked, "Ya wanna know what kind of pleasure it gave me to kill all those fucking parasites?"

For a moment, he looked at me blankly, like he wasn't expecting me to say what I said, and then he shook his head and cocked his brow, "Did you love him?"

And then it was my turn to act like I wasn't expecting him to say what he said, and I swallowed, hard, while feeling myself pale and feeling sickened, as I stood there, staring him in the eye like I couldn't have hated him more at that moment. "Get the fuck away from the door, Rufus," I demanded, through my teeth and with a sudden and entirely new desire to leave the room, and the conversation.

"Not until you answer me," he retorted, with that sickening calm of his that he used to gain control. But he was nowhere near being in control, because his knuckles were stark white while he gripped the doorknob behind him.

"Rufus," I said, with a sudden weakness to my tone, as I motioned at the door, "Let me go."

"No!" he shouted, and making me jump from the fact that I wasn't expecting him to turn like that again. Then he pushed me back with his other hand, "Do you know what he told me when he had you in that shack?" and then he added while ignoring the fact that he was obviously bringing up something that made me feel sick, "I don't think you heard, because his friend was too busy beating the shit out of you."

"Shut up, Rufus."

"No!" he yelled again, making me jump again, "For some strange reason, he felt it was necessary to tell me that you were the best fuck he'd ever had!"

"Shut up, Rufus!"

"Naturally, the worst thing ran through my mind," he confessed, and leaned forward like a predator staring at its prey. "But luckily, the doctors didn't find anything that would have suggested he'd touched you in that way."

"Shut the fuck up, Rufus!"

"So, indulge me, Reno," he continued, while glaring at me with eyes that turned ice-cold, "Was it something he just said to rile me into talking?" Then he clenched his teeth and confronted me, "Or did you know him better than you've let on?"

Suddenly speechless, I staggered back and pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to erase the images running through my mind before I dropped them to my sides like I'd lost every last ounce of energy I could muster. My breathing was shaky as I looked down at the floor with a spiralling defeat that I simply couldn't hide. "He was all I had," was the best I could pathetically choke out as an explanation, while I felt my body unwillingly want to shut down from the admittance.

"All you had," he resounded, as his own retiring defeat took him over. Then he slowly let go of the door's handle and walked over to where I was standing, and pulled me by the chin to face him with his fine and deceptively delicate fingers. "You had no intention of ever telling me, did you?" he asked, even though he made it perfectly obvious that he didn't require an answer.

All I could do was close my eyes. I was suddenly unable to look at him while I leaned forward, so our foreheads were leaning against each other. Then I gently rubbed my nose against his, as I let out a barely audible, whispered choke that led him to pull away and go into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

Then slowly and shakily, I knelt down to clean up the shattered glass from the floor, and discarded the lit and neglected cigarette in my hand. When I was done, I went into the spare room, so I could retire into a state of shame and guilt, and curl up into a sobbing ball, while Rufus drank himself into a slumber at the kitchen table.

And now, back to our raid…

It was a deafening lightshow when we burst through the doors. Just like we'd been trained, we did everything out of skilled instinct while avoiding our allies across the room, and using whatever barriers we could to duck behind.

We had all agreed on who we'd keep alive before we entered. It was the one person we all believed to know the most and be the easiest to intimidate, since a happy balance was always worth the while. Oddly though, it was one of those times that we all agreed without question, and the poor bastard never knew what hit him.

And after a quick adrenaline rush that probably didn't last as long as it felt like it did, we were down to three, and one of them was our target. All the while, bullets continued to whiz through the air and light up the room, and then I briefly changed my priority and stood up, placing myself in the danger zone for the target.

It may have seemed risky, but I needed to hit him with a pyramid to keep him from running like he was about to do, and I managed to successfully enclose him while avoiding nearly being hit by one of his comrades. Then I dropped to the floor so I could put the only piece of furniture nearby, between me and the remaining enemies, while attempting to continue with our little game of kill or be killed.

"Reno!" Rude yelled, with an inability to hide his concern when he saw me drop. I think he thought I'd been hit.

So, I gave him a 'thumbs up' from where I was sitting, to let him know I was okay, and watched him nod before reloading and firing off three more shots. Then there was silence, and a long pause.

"You can smoke that cigarette now," came Tseng's voice, from the other end of the room, as he stood up and casually placed his gun in his holster, like he was taking a stroll through the park. I have to admit, that at times, he really came across as some sort of insensitive freak to me. Of course, I couldn't really say that I didn't envy him for the show he was capable of putting on.

But my short-lived admiration was easily brushed off and I managed to mutter out, "'Bout fuckin time." Then I pulled one out of the pack from my pocket and pushed myself up while lighting it.

And after the initial sweet and sickening rush of nicotine, I went back outside and grabbed the bag of explosives we brought with us, while Tseng went over to release our captive from the pyramid he was trapped in.

When I came back in and set the bag on the floor, Rude had already seated the man in a chair at the table, and was holding him down with nothing more than brute force. And as usual, Tseng stood to the side, while motioning for someone else, namely Jared, to go ahead and start with the questioning. But first, he handed the kid a rope so things could be done a little easier by tying the man's arms to the chair and freeing up Rude as a resource, in case he was needed for something else.

There was an awkward moment of silence at first, as Jared stood there not really knowing what he was supposed to be doing. Well, he knew, he just didn't know how he was supposed to be doing it, and it showed, and it didn't look good. Mostly, because I'd hardly say that a questioner in doubt is a persuasive way to get a person to talk.

"Fuck," I disapprovingly muttered, while shaking my head with the cigarette hanging out of my mouth and unzipping the bag. "Start cutting his fingers off!" I shouted, "An if ya run out of em, get creative." Then I looked over at him with a severe annoyance and silently chastised myself for not giving a more creative suggestion than cutting fingers off.

How fuckin lame.

But Tseng didn't seem to think it was too lame, after all, as far as I could tell about what went through his head, was that everyone had to start somewhere. And the fact that his expression turned to one of complete amusement, as he moved over to get a better view of Jared grabbing the wire cutters that I threw over to him, suggested that lame was somewhat reminiscent of art being in the eye of the beholder.

Besides, I kind of had to admit that it was definitely amusing to watch someone getting ready to do something they'd never done before. And typically, Tseng was right there to watch up close. He always enjoyed having a front row seat to that sort of thing. In fact, the man loved it, and he probably would have been more than happy to be the one doing it.

Oh, well. Anyway, as I pulled the small experimental explosives out of the bag, I heard Rude ask with a curious undertone to his voice, "What the hell are those?"

"Somethin new," I replied, and then I snickered while holding one up so I could take a good look at it.

"New," he repeated, while turning his head to look straight ahead again, "How new?"

"Very new."

"They reliable?"

"Ya think I'd be usin em if I thought they weren't?"

"…"

He was still holding the man down by his shoulders and keeping his attention focused on some point beyond what was in front of him, while the man let out an incredible scream as he lost one of his fingers when he didn't answer the first question Jared asked him. He always did that. It wasn't that he was squeamish or anything like that, because he'd been witness to most of the same things Tseng and I had. He just wasn't interested in watching. He never was.

"What are they?"

"Meteor," I answered, almost like I was in a daze when I said it. Then I got up to start placing them around the foundation.

"You gone mad?"

"Nope," I playfully answered, before looking over at him with an impish smile, "This'll be fun. Trust me."

Three weeks before our raid, I paid Reeve a visit to check up on him. But that time, it was by Rufus' orders. He was curious about the progress Reeve was having with the stability of his energy source, since things were starting to look promising. He still hadn't brought it to what we needed it for yet though, but progress was definitely being made.

"No bathrobe?" Reeve asked, while he kept his back to me as I entered his lab, "I'm disappointed."

Blushing with embarrassment, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it and shyly asked him while stepping forward, "There anythin ya don't miss?"

"Unfortunately, no," he admitted, "Considering I would have given my right arm to see that one instead of only hearing about it." Then he lifted his cigarette from his ashtray and turned to me with a wry smile, "I understand it had Rufus' initials on it."

"I was drunk," I stated, since that was pretty much the same excuse I gave everyone else that asked about it, not that it was that far from the truth.

"I see," he said, before leaning against his counter and looking at me like I was nothing more than entertainment, "To what do I owe the distinctive pleasure of this day's visit?"

"Rufus wants a report on your progress for your energy source," I told him, while taking a drag from my cigarette and thinking of how terrible it tasted.

"A memo would have sufficed."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, and brought my hand to scratch the back of my neck, "I was kinda hopin ya might do somethin for me."

With his brow raised in curiosity, he pushed himself away from the counter and stood straight. "And what would that be?" he asked, as he rubbed his ring finger to his thumb on the same hand that was holding his cigarette.

"Was hopin ya'd show me how ya make those cells ya use for your machines."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"Why're ya askin?" I inquired. Then I took a step forward and looked at him with a curious anticipation.

"If I recall correctly, you and my cells don't play nicely together."

"That's not a concern of yours."

"Oh?" he asked, and tapped his cigarette over his ashtray. "I think it is, considering that if something were to happen to Rufus' precious little girlfriend because of something I was to share with you, he'd definitely make it my concern."

"Ya sayin yer afraid of him?" I confronted, while finding it a little hard to believe, since Reeve was no fool and was more than capable of holding his own.

I guess what I said was funny though, because he chuckled at it and walked over to stand in front of me. "I'm saying that it is my concern," he coolly informed, "It's got nothing to do with fear, Reno." Then he blew his smoke into my face and grinned like he thought he was better than me. "It's got to do with responsibility, something I know you're not familiar with."

"Look, Reeve," I confronted, figuring I'd let him know I wasn't willing to back down while I ignored the smoke he blew in my face, "I know you can come up with something to shield those cells from me. It's what you do. You think about ways to overcome the challenges you come across."

For a moment, he remained silent and raised his brow while staring me in the eye with an amused smile. "Impressive, Reno… So, you really can drop the Slum-drawl. And here, I thought it was just a myth," he cynically commented, and then he continued as if he didn't just say what he said, "I already have."

Then he walked over to a cabinet and opened it, so he could pull out three encasements. "I put these together to see if it would work, since I anticipated you eventually coming down here again." And with another wry grin, he turned his attention back to me, "And I didn't feel like having my whole department blowing up."

After that, he handed them to me and sat back to observe me for a short while, before he was convinced that it worked. And once he was convinced, he brought me over to show me what he did to start the reactive process with the dust.

Of course, he asked me a few questions in regards to my sudden interest in activating the process, and I told him that I wanted to start trying it out on some of my own devices. It wasn't exactly a lie, since I really did intend to use if for that, at first.

But when I got to Rufus' apartment, I still couldn't bring myself to call it ours, I started playing with the stuff and got a bright idea on how to create a responsive charge within it. And naturally, there were a few failed attempts. But I wasn't dumb enough to do my trials and errors in the apartment. I only came up with the idea in the apartment.

Instead, I managed to talk Elena into letting me use one of the compounds on the outskirts of town for explosive testing, and I wound up discovering that Meteor, when charged properly, had quite the impressive force to it. So impressive, in fact, that if charged in different ways, it could be used for several different forms of ammunition.

And after sharing my discovery with Elena, she went to work on perfecting it for me, and together we developed a handy little explosive that was no bigger than the size of her pinkie finger, which wasn't very big. We also went to work on devising it for use with my mag-rod, making that handy little slot I had her add in there more useful than I thought it would have been.

"Now, Reno," she started, with a bit of concern in her voice, "This is going to make that self-destructive force a lot more powerful." Then she took a moment to hesitatingly bite on her bottom lip before she continued, "You're going to want to get as far away from it as possible if you ever use it."

"I realise that, Lany," I answered, while holding up the stick and studying it.

"Maybe we should set a timer for it," she suggested, and then she paused for a moment in thought, "A terminator probably wouldn't hurt either, just in case you change your mind."

"Whatever ya think's best," I replied. I have to admit that I agreed with the pretty lady, so I handed it over to her so she could implement it.

It took her a little over a day to get everything set up to her satisfaction, reminding me, once more, that she was a great lady when it came to watching out for other people's well-being. I honestly couldn't help but entertain the idea on how great of a mother she was going to be, and I even went so far as to ponder over how lucky of a man Tseng was to have her in his life.

Well, anyway, back to the raid…

After I set all the explosives, I went straight for the computer that was set up in the room. Tseng recommended that I try to see if there was any information in regards to the enemy's supply sources entered in there, while they continued to question the man with two fingers left to go.

Stubborn ass.

And a half an hour later, with Jared having to become creative, while the man was beginning to miss a few strips of skin on his chest, I managed to come up with nothing but useless information.

"This ain't getting us anywhere, Sir," I called over to Tseng, and he simply nodded in acknowledgement, while keeping his eyes on the man being interrogated. He was too taken with the moment to want to move his attention away.

Shrugging it off, because I didn't really expect anything less from that twisted enthusiast, I moved away from the machine and walked over to where they all were. You could tell the reason Jared wasn't having much luck was because his heart just wasn't in it. He was missing the convincing fire that was required.

But that was okay, one of us could easily take over. We just needed him to get his feet wet. You know, the more you do it, the better you get at it. After all, it was part of our job, and he'd have to learn to either like it, or learn to hide the fact that he didn't, and the only way to do that was to practice.

He'd had enough though. So, while taking a deep breath and shaking my head at him, while I stood behind our new friend, I reached down and took the wallet from his pocket. This simple action brought the satisfied smirks from, both, Tseng and Rude, and a curious one from Jared.

Of course, there was no guarantee that I'd find anything other than gil and other useless items. But even so, the gil would definitely come in handy when we decided to take Jared to the bar to help him celebrate the evening away. So, I did my part by pocketing it all, before I stopped at some keepsakes of interest.

"What's this?" I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear, as I pulled out a photo from the man's wallet, with a name written on the back of it, causing everyone, including our good friend to take a good look at me.

"Mrs. Sondra, Maydlan?" I asked, and then I turned to look at the man while he stared back at me like he was afraid to breathe, "Ain't that yer last name?" Then I sighed and pulled out his ID, before waving it in front of him, "Yer ID has the same last name."

The man would have probably paled if he wasn't already suffering from blood loss. But I could see it in his eyes, and that was enough to satisfy me for the moment.

"Pretty lady," I honestly commented, "Such a shame fer such a pretty thing to have to be widowed so soon."

At that, Tseng's lips curled like he'd found a tasty meal, as the man in the chair stared up at me with an anticipating horror.

"Maybe I should pay her a visit. I could teach her a thing'r two," I mused, almost like I was talking to myself instead of him, while I sat across his lap and straddled his thighs.

Then I took out a razor and held it up to his face. Of course, I waved it in front of him so he could get a good look at it, before I sliced it across his cheek and rubbed my hand in it. But that was only so I could show him the blood so he'd know what I did. "Maybe once she sees ya like this," I mused, and then I paused long enough to lick my fingers off, "She might enjoy what I have to offer her."

And after that, I dragged the razor across the other side of his face and continued with my taunt. "Ya think she'd like it?" I asked, as my eyes fell empty while I sat there and stared blankly at him, with a hollow smile, "Maybe I could keep ya alive, let ya watch." While entertaining the thought, I ran my fingers along the open wounds on his chest, and watched him wince, as beads of sweat started to run along his brow.

"N-no…"

"Yes," I answered, as I narrowed my eyes and leaned in, "I bet I could show her a few things. Ya know?" Then I leaned closer so my lips were brushing his ear, making him twinge while I whispered, "Things ya haven't shown her yet."

"Or maybe ya'd prefer it if I showed them to you first," I suggested, while my hand dropped lower and I snaked it between his legs.

I'm not sure if it was the threat, or the fact that I had snaked my tongue around his earlobe as well, while sucking it into my mouth so I could nibble on it that broke him. But he broke. He spilled all of the beans, and even tossed the can in for good measure.

If you were to ask me though, I'd say he was a little too easy to break, and I wasn't really certain that he was telling us everything we wanted to know, or even the truth for that matter. So I decided that since they were making the serum there, well, I bet you can figure out what I decided.

So, anyway, after I injected the serum into him, we all stood around and continued to interrogate him, while he became a vomiting mess that was kind of grossing me out. I guess it didn't help that I'd already gone through it myself and I was well aware of the effect the stuff was having on him.

I was also well aware of the fact that it was going to kill him, maybe even slowly. And a part of me was actually curious enough to want to stick around and see exactly what it did in regards to that matter.

But once we were satisfied that he'd finally shared everything we really needed to know, and it turned out that the serum wasn't really necessary, I made one final comment to him, while leaning up close and placing my hand on his shoulder, "I'll give my regards to Mrs. Maydlan fer ya," and then I let Jared know that, "Ya can kill him now."

There was a deafening bang, and then a lifeless heap in a chair, and we owed it all to the good marksmanship of Jared's natural talent. But he didn't seem to be as in the same high spirits that we were all in, and he stood there with the gun still pointed at the man while a look of sickening disgust washed over his face.

"Ya'll get used to it kid. The bathroom's over there," I said, and waved my hand in its direction.

Then I moved over to him and placed my hand on the back of his shoulder, and patted it a few times, while watching his face pale to a not-so-healthy green.

"Don't feel bad. We all get sick the first time." It might not have been the best condolence a person could come up with. But it was the best anyone could have ever expected from me, as I pushed him forward to get him moving, "Now go."

And after he disappeared like lightening and the door closed, we all could hear him retching from behind it. And Tseng, who was still mesmerized by the bloody heap in the chair, quietly commented, "You never got sick."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, while pulling out another cigarette and lighting it, "I'd seen worse."

"I really do wish you wouldn't have sexually harassed the man though," he said, as he turned his attention over to me and Rude and uncomfortably cleared his throat, "It really was disturbing."

"Worked, did'n it?" I replied, knowing damn well that it was something none of them really wanted to bear witness to.

"Yes, well, what would you have done if he liked it?" he asked, while unable to hold back the dry smirk creeping across his thin and pale lips.

"Would've had to try somethin else then," I commented, before raising my brow as I playfully met his eyes, "Would'n I?"

Knowing that he couldn't have expected any other kind of comment from me, he let out a low chuckle and shook his head. Then Jared came out a few moments later, still looking fairly green, causing Tseng to walk up to him and gently take him by the arm to escort him back in to clean him up better, before letting him back into his vehicle. And like their counterparts, Rude waited for me to clean myself up as well, before we both followed suit.

"You sure those will do the trick?" asked Rude, unable to hide his doubt over my very new, and very tiny, explosives.

And as an answer, I pulled out the detonator and handed it to him, so he could do the honour. Despite his scepticism, he accepted it from my hand, and then he pressed the button when we made it over to the vehicle.

The explosion was almost silent, with a near-blinding flash, as the house literally went up in a Pale orange ball of flame, and then disintegrated to nearly nothing. That was the first real field test I'd gotten to run with the stuff, and I have to admit, that the result was both frightening and awe-inspiring at the same time.

"You have that shit in your body?" Rude asked, after a long moment of silence, as we all stared at the result with an inspired trepidation.

"Yeah," I muttered, "Don't doubt I'll need a shot soon." Then I let out a shaky sigh, knowing that the particles that filled the air were still slightly charged, and were probably going to have a negative effect on me. "Let's get the hell outta here."

When Tseng dropped us all off on the street, a block away from the Seventh Heaven, he apologised that he wouldn't be joining us. There was no need for him to apologise though, we all knew he'd rather be with Elena, and none of us took offence to it either.

After all, who wouldn't want to spend time with Elena? Besides, there was no need for him to stick around anyway. We were all grown men, and we were all capable of making it back to Shinra on our own, even if we managed to get as intoxicated as we planned.

Well, it was roughly around ten hundred hours when we heard some kids fighting in the alley we were passing, and normally, I wouldn't have really cared about it. But when I glanced over my shoulder, I recognised the kid that was being picked on by some older street rats as one of the kids from Tifa's orphanage.

"Fuck," I muttered, before grabbing my mag-rod by its hilt and resting it on my shoulder.

All Rude did was side-glance at me, like he wasn't about to say anything. I knew he was thinking it wasn't our business though, and he knew I wasn't really all that caring when it came to kids. But it honestly never failed. Whenever I saw a young kid getting picked on, regardless of whether I recognized them or not, I always had to get involved.

"Hey!" I shouted, awarding myself several startled glances, "Ain't ya kids got nothin better ta do?"

"Who the hell are you?" shouted one of the bigger looking ones.

"Yer worst nightmare if ya don't let that kid go," I replied, while pulling out a cigarette.

"You can't do anything to us," he confronted, as some of his smarter friends started backing away.

"He's a Turk," one of them shouted to him, in attempt to get him to run along with them. But I don't think he was really all that bright.

"I beg ta differ," I said to the bigger kid, rocking forward on my feet, "Now get the fuck outta here, 'fore ya make me do somethin ya'll regret."

"I'm not afraid of you, Turk!"

"Fer fuck's sake," I muttered. Then I set the voltage on low before I moved up to him and shocked him in the gut, just enough to stun him to the ground. "When will ya little shits ever fuckin learn?" I asked, while reminding him that there was a huge difference between bravery and stupidity.

Then I turned my attention to the younger kid and pointed my rod in the direction of the orphanage. "Move along now! Ya hear?" I insensitively shouted – somewhat disgracefully, considering my cigarette was hanging out of my mouth, and I was talking to a kid that couldn't have been older than nine or ten.

And at that, the kid nodded, before running back to the orphanage and never looking back.

"Were you trying to help him, or scare him?" asked Jared, cynically.

"Shut yer mouth!" I warned, while glaring and threateningly pointing the charged end of my rod at him, "I did'n see ya doin anythin ta fuckin help!"

"Drinks!" Rude reminded us, as he came up between us and grabbed us both by the backs of the necks, so he could turn our attention over to the Heaven in hopes that it would jog our memories.

And it did.

"Is that who I think it is?" Jared whispered, while leaning toward Rude and staring in Cloud's direction.

"Yeah, kid. Mr. fuckin Strife, himself," I muttered, before lighting a cigarette and scoping the room for an empty table as far away from Cloud as I could find.

"He doesn't mind you guys coming in here?" he asked, somewhat sceptical over that fact.

"Us guys?" I replied, "Ya know… yer one of us too now, doncha?"

"Excuse me," Rude cut in, the second he laid eyes on Tifa and bee-lined straight for her.

"See ya, Rude," I called out, while making an effort to wave and smile at him, even though I knew damn-well he was lost to us for the rest of the evening from that moment on.

"Where's he going?" asked Jared, somewhat miffed that he took off and left him with none other but me.

"See that Black-haired beauty over there?"

"Tifa?"

"Yeah. That's his girlfriend," I informed, before guiding him over to the table I picked out and telling him, "We ain't gonna see him for the rest of the evenin."

There really was no mystery to why Jared would know who they all were. After all, they'd all pretty much become famous. Heck, it even went so far that they'd become the mentors to several of the younger generation.

And ironically, the Seventh Heaven was the safest place for us Turks to drink, considering it was the only place that had Cloud Strife as its bouncer. We weren't exactly welcome in many places, since Shinra was not exactly something that many people looked up to anymore. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if they ever did.

"You mean I'm stuck with just you?"

"I ain't so bad," I muttered, as the bar maiden made her way to our table and I asked him, "What's yer poison?"

"You're a psycho," he spat, and even went so far as to glare at me, before muttering out, "Beer."

"Ya'll get used to it," I said, like I could have cared less about his stupid opinion anyway. Then I turned my attention to the lady waiting to take our orders, "A beer an'a bottle of the cheapest, deadliest, poison ya got, Babe." When she was about to turn away, I grabbed her gently by the hip to get her attention with an afterthought, "Bring two glasses fer that too, will ya, Sweet thing?"

With an unimpressed nod, because she probably got hit on all the time, she nodded and left to place our orders.

"Cheapest? With your salary?"

"Nothin better to drown in than the slums, Kid," I commented, while sitting back and staring straight ahead, "Ya'll find out."

"The Slums?" he asked, looking at me curiously, "You got a thing for the Slums?"

"From the slums," I told him, while noticing a bit of dry blood under my nails and pulling out my blade to scrape it out.

"You're from the Slums?" he asked, half-disbelieving and probably wondering why I'd make something like that up, "I thought it was just an act."

"Nah," I muttered, while still focusing on my nails and feeling a little tired, "Came from Sector 7."

"And you still work for Shinra? After they dropped the plate on it? "

"Ain't no way out, Kiddo. Besides, Sector 7 had it comin," I told him, before putting the knife away and straightening out my legs.

"So, you don't have any hard feelings about them dropping the plate on it?"

"Them?" I asked, while I dug into my pocket and pulled out a hundred gil, when the bar maiden came back with our order. Then I slapped it on the table in front of her and told her to, "Keep 'em comin, Babe." And after a slight nod from the young beauty, she was off again.

"Yeah… Wasn't it Shinra that did it?"

"It was me, Kid," I informed flatly, as I filled my glass with the cigarette hanging out of my mouth, "I requested it."

He shifted uneasily beside me then, and grabbed his beer while glancing at me sideways and taking a drink.

"Ya better not be havin second thoughts. Would hate to hafta hunt ya down an kill ya."

"No," he answered, before shaking his head assuredly, "I knew what I was getting into… You're just a little hard to swallow."

With a snicker, I picked up my drink and put my foot up on the chair at the opposite side of the table. While Jared sat forward and watched the ladies dancing in the middle of the floor.

"Ya like what ya see?" I asked, before nudging him to get his attention.

With a slight cringe at the contact, he nodded and took another drink, "Would you mind if I…?"

"Go right ahead. Being a Turk don't mean ya have ta play dead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Used ta do it all the time myself."

Then with a funny look in my direction, he stood up and asked, "What made you stop?"

"Other priorities," I replied, and took another drink while staring into space again.

Then, after he nodded like he didn't really want to hear the reason, I watched him swindle his way into the attention of the ladies, while I mused that the guy was definitely not in alien territory.

Of course, I guess it helped that he wasn't a bad looking kid. Not that I was looking, or paying attention, or anything like that. It was just a fact. I didn't really expect him to be as smooth as he was though, and I have to admit, the kid kind of took me by surprise.

He turned out to not be so bad either. And on my first day back on the job after my breakdown, I set him up for pilot training. Although, he wasn't exactly what I'd call a natural. But he was learning, even if it was a little too slow for my taste.

And for the next two hours, he managed to round up three, very willing, young ladies, and I had managed to finish off the bottle and start on a fresh one. Every now and then, I'd steal a glance over at Cloud, who had his head down, while he drowned whatever sorrows he had away in whatever he was drinking.

Rude and Tifa had long since disappeared, and it was highly possible that they had retired to one or the other's apartment for the rest of the evening. Must be nice to be in a stable relationship, I thought. But don't let me fool you. It wasn't really Rufus as much as it was me. Every single time in the past, whenever a woman got serious with me, I'd make a run for it. Yet, with Rufus, I found myself always wanting to run right back.

"Do you mind if I take off for a bit?" Jared asked, as his voice pulled me out of my thoughts while he leaned on the other end of the table.

"Go ahead, take off," I encouraged, before making my way to the halfway mark of the second bottle, "Don't worry 'bout comin back. I can make my own way home."

"You sure?"

"Do it all the time, Kid," I said, while waving my hand in a scoot-like motion.

Then shortly after he left, I started to feel incredibly light-headed and knew right away what that meant, and I took a quick glance at the men's room that happened to be unusually busy that night and silently cursed to myself, while I checked to make sure I brought my shot with me, which I did.

And after taking another large swig, I started to feel dizzier. So, I stood up to try and make my way out towards the alley where no one would see me, since the last thing anyone needed to see was a Turk shooting up. Regardless of what it was, it just didn't look good.

But just like things are so typical of my life, when I started to make my way from the table, I bumped into the bar maiden and stumbled, before planting my face into her breasts. Of course, it was an accident, and I was rewarded with a star-inspiring slap to the side of the face that nearly made me fall over.

"S-sorry," I stammered, with my hands in a truce position and tried to regain my balance. Things were already starting to turn black on me, and I cursed myself for not taking a shot right after that explosion. But my stubborn side convinced me that I wouldn't need it, and like usual, I listened to that stupid idiot that lived inside my head.

I managed to stagger my way into the alley though, where I shakily pulled out the needle. But just as I was about to take it, it was smacked out of my hand by some man I'd never seen before.

"Looks like we got ourselves a lone Turk," I heard him say to his two other friends that were standing behind him.

They were all large labouring men, your typical bar-goers that claim they earn an honest living, and they were also your common Turk-hating camaraderie.

Fuck. Not now.

Normally, that kind of situation wouldn't have bothered me. But then again, normally, I wouldn't be relying on dust that wasn't even from my own planet to keep my equilibrium up. It didn't stop me from doing what I always did though, and I wrapped my hand around the hilt of my mag-rod and inconspicuously turned the dial to a higher setting.

Then I grimaced with my arm over my gut, making me wonder if it was the combination of the alcohol and Meteor that was giving me the new gut-wrenching sensation that was turning everything upside down and making me feel like I was about to throw up.

No one took sympathy on me though, not that I was expecting them to, and the man in front of me wound up grabbing me, before I stuck him with the charged tip, sending a jolt through him that knocked him out. Then I stood there, still grimacing, while waiting for the others to attack. I figured that if I let my back away from the wall, they might have an advantage, and all I could do was wait for them to make a move while I tried to hang on for as long as I could.

But the dizziness was becoming stronger, and I snapped. I had to get that fucking needle in me as fast as I could, and I decided I could handle a few beatings, just as long as I got rid of the godless sensation I was feeling. At some point, I dropped to my knees and quickly crawled forward to where the needle landed. Then something hard cracked across my back, making me cry out. But it wasn't enough to stop me, as I twisted around and struck with the end of the rod again, eliciting a dull thud as my reward.

And after that, I turned back over and ran my hands frantically along the ground, but they had gone numb, and I couldn't feel or see anything. By that time, I had completely forgotten about the third guy, as I struggled with myself to hang on. I thought I heard voices and struggling in the distance. But in my frame of mind, I couldn't make any sense out of it and figured I was probably just imagining it anyway.

It wasn't until I was lifted off the ground, while I freaked out, and was placed to rest against the dirty, mould-covered, wall, that I realized what was going on. Then as Cloud's voice told me to hang on, and he rolled up my sleeve, I realized that the fucker had come to my rescue, yet again.

When I came fully to, he had his palm pressed against my cheek, and he was gazing at me with those Mako-blue eyes of his, before his look turned stern and he angrily asked, while lifting me to my feet, "What the hell were you doing out here?"

"The bathroom was full," I replied, with a heavy rasp to my voice, while letting myself fall back to rest against the wall, and not even really thinking about whether there was one behind me or not.

"They could have killed you," he chastised, as he frowned at me and helped keep me supported on my feet.

"Aww, c'mon man," I slurred, since the drunkenness hadn't worn off and probably wouldn't until I slept it off. Then I started giggling at him while mocking him with an accusing tone, "Ya gonna tell me ya wouldn't have liked that?"

"It probably wouldn't be such a bad thing," he mumbled.

I don't know why, because what he said wasn't all that funny – But I really started laughing at him and brought my hands clumsily to his face so I could push the corners of his mouth into a moulded smile. All the while, he glared at me like he wasn't impressed in the least. "Lighten up," I urged, while still giggling at how seriously pissed off he looked, "One day, ya'll get yer wish."

"Do you literally go looking for situations to get yourself killed?" he asked, harshly, while bringing his hands up to firmly pull mine away from his face.

"Bad Karma, Man," I replied. Then I tilted my head and continued to smile at him.

"You think this is funny?"

"Well what the fuck else am I s'posed to think about it!" I suddenly shouted, and pushed him away without any signs of warning, "Ya want me ta sit around and sulk about it?"

"It probably wouldn't hurt to take things a little more seriously."

"Whatever," I said, and waved at him to suggest he should go away after I pushed myself from the wall, "I ain't gonna wind up like you."

"You're a real piece of work. You know that?" he informed and questioned, all at the same time. Then he changed his tune like a heartbeat, "Well, since you don't give a shit about what happens to you, maybe we can talk about what your boss has been up to lately."

Oh, here we go…

"Whats'a matter, Cloud? Ya wanna stick me again?" I retorted, while simultaneously grabbing the hilt of my mag-rod to get ready for the next round of 'stick it to the redhead', "Let's have another go at it!"

"You know damn well I'll kill you, Reno."

"So what?" I asked, while holding my arms out, like I was daring him to, "its whatcha want! Ain't it?" Then I brought the rod across me in a defensive move and continued, "Let's go! Maybe it'll put a smile on that miserable face of yours!"

"Don't push me, Reno," he warned, as his eyes darkened and he unsheathed his sword.

"Don't push you," I muttered, "Ya like being pushed!" I taunted, and then I started circling him as he glared at me. Then I shouted, as I lunged at him to strike, "Ya fuckin live for it!"

The bastard made a defensive move though, and avoided me by parrying my strike, like he was showing off. "Stop now, Reno," he warned coolly.

"Why?" I asked, pissed off that I missed, "Ya got a conscience about hurtin a poor little street rat?" Then I took another lunge at him and nearly hit him with a jolt.

And I'm not really sure about what manoeuvre he used after that, because it all happened so fast. But he grabbed me and slammed my head into the wall fairly hard. Then he pinned me to it with my back to him and gripped the base of my hand hard enough to make me let go of the rod and let out a small cry. "I'm not going to be your salvation, Reno," he growled into my ear, and then he pushed me harder into the wall, causing me to betray myself by grunting from the force, "Not today!"

After that, he let go and started walking back to the pub. But like shit if I was going to let it end like that. So, I reached down to pick up my rod and lunged at him from behind. And I'll admit I did have a bit of a death wish. In fact, I wanted nothing more at that moment than to actually have him kill me.

Then I wouldn't have to worry about facing Rufus' cold, hard, judging eyes anymore. I wouldn't have to deal with Rude's constant disgrace over the choices I've made in my life, and I'd no longer have to be afraid to my wits end about what the fuck was happening to my insides as that fucking Meteor dust begged for more of itself inside of me.

I could finally be free from the torment of my memories and nightmares of a life that I never wanted to live in the first place. I'd no longer be weak because of some mad scientist who used me as his tool to achieve his own ends, and I could rot away in a peaceful slumber because I'd no longer know shit about any of the things I didn't want to know about.

Hell, I could finally be free of all my weaknesses, and Rufus could finally be free too. He'd no longer have me around as his cancer that ate away at him anymore, and he could finally go about his life with the strength he had before I entered it.

It wasn't until Cloud's sword pierced the flesh of my side, and embedded itself through my shirt and my jacket, and the surface of the wall behind me, that I suddenly realized, I may have made a mistake.

And It wasn't the elicited cry that escaped from me, and the words spoken from Cloud, "Shit! Cure3!" that told me I may have gone too far. Heck, it wasn't even the fact that I'd dropped my EMR, leaving me with no line of defence against that blonde thorn in my side that would never go away, that convinced me, I was in trouble…

No…

It was Cloud's tongue in my unresisting mouth that told me, I was in over my head.

Revised: January 12, 2009