An Interlude with Spice
He carries me to the apartment from Hojo's lab, to make it look like he cares. But the minute the door closes, he drops me to the floor and drags me to the bathroom by my hair. Then he places my head forcefully over the toilet so my neck presses against the rim, and it makes me choke.
He's angry again. He's always angry, and I don't really know why.
Part of me believes that it's because I did something wrong. But part of me knows that it's only because I exist, and there's not much point to contemplating the reasons anymore, as I throw up into the toilet and ignore the fact that he hasn't left yet. There was not much point in wondering as he carried me to the apartment, and forced me to swallow what I couldn't hold back. Gaia forbid, I get a stain on my clothing.
After all, appearance is the only thing that matters in this world, and if it wasn't for his reputation, he would have killed me already.
Instead, I set my focus on that redhead with the defiant air. There is something about him that always makes me feel better. But my attention on him is taken abruptly when it turns to the contents spilling from my stomach. Strange, the liquid appears green to me, and I'm suddenly becoming frightened by it.
'Never let them hear you scream, Rufus.' I remind myself, and I choke back on any sound that might escape. 'Never let them see you feel… Never let them win.'
Oh… When did I start saying 'them' instead of him?
He leaves me there, by myself, when the sound of the front door opens, and I thank whatever god exists that he didn't beat me this time. I also find myself praying that this is it for me, and I find myself praying that whatever Hojo did to me this time will mean the end to my existence while I shakily hang onto the rim and resist getting any fluid on the floor. I do this more out of training than out of fear, because inside, I already know that he will beat me no matter what I do.
There's yelling, suddenly. My mother came home and started yelling at him again. It has something to do with me, and I hear him hit her because of it. Then I close my eyes and attempt to will the noise to stop, thinking, maybe I can will her to disappear into a better life where she won't have to feel like she needs to protect me anymore. Or better yet, maybe I can will the clock to turn back and erase the day I entered this hellish nightmare of a life that never ends.
It never ends…
Doors are slamming, and voices are muffled behind closed doors. I can no longer hear them as clearly as I could when they were in the main room, and it doesn't really matter. There is really no way for me to make out what they are saying when I'm too busy retching anyway.
Oh, mother… Please stop…
She doesn't realise that her efforts to protect me are always done in vain. When she makes him angry at her, he winds up taking it out on me. Somehow, it all becomes my fault. It's always my fault.
Another couple of thumps and bangs, and what sounds like crying, and I hear the front door open and close again, and then I hear silence. I can only pray that it was Father that left, and not my mother. Perhaps she will come to wrap her arms around me like she always does. The warmth and the smell of her perfume is always comforting, even more so when I'm in the state that I'm in now. It almost makes me forget about the pain and the constant sounds in my head.
I'm not sure how many minutes have passed now. But I hear her soft steps approach behind me, and I close my eyes and thank the Lifestream that it was her that remained behind. But like all things, nothing ever appears to be what it seems. She's not here to comfort me this time, and I realise that when I feel the cold steel against the back of my head and the hollow click of the safety being pulled back.
"I'm setting you free, Rufus," she tells me, with a shaky and forcefully controlled voice, "No one's 'ever' going to hurt you anymore."
Oddly enough, I understand what she's doing, and I'm suddenly no longer afraid. I'm not even angry or upset. Instead, I close my eyes, and the only thought that goes through my head is, 'will it hurt?'
But that question never gets answered, and I hear a choking gasp escape from her as she blames herself for everything that's happened to me. She apologizes for not being able to protect me the way that she should have, and then the sound of anguish, before I jump at the sound of the bullet being set in motion.
But I'm still here…
Through the corner of my eye, I see the blood run along the floor, and I see a few loose strands of her golden hair mix with the blood. It almost blends with it and disappears. I realize what has just happened, and I don't know if I should be feeling anything in regards to it. Even worse, I don't know what I should feel if the answer is yes.
So far, only thoughts go through my mind, as I close my eyes and heave once more, to expel whatever this green fluid is from my system. Then I notice that some of her blood has run into my pants, and I realise that it's going to stain, concerning me with only one thing.
'Oh no… Father's going to be angry…'
What is it that defines a man…
That's the question he's always asking himself. I assume it's because he's so torn up inside that he has a hard time facing who he is, or dealing with his choices. In fact, I'm almost positive that this is the reason he allows everyone else to make his decisions for him, despite the fact that he puts up a fight every single time.
Part of me wishes I could answer it for him, but another part of me doesn't really care. He could be a woman for all that concerns me, or I could be one. It doesn't really matter to me. He's so genuinely unique in his own right, that I do believe it is just him that I want. He's made up of every element that I have never been able to attain.
Albeit, his ill temper and wild tangents that he allows to control him can be frustrating, if not downright contemptible, and I find him fascinating and alluring when he turns into that wild and out of control flame that he becomes so often. At times, I even find myself looking for ways to ignite his outbursts. He possesses a passion that stirs something in me. He awakens something in me that must have been asleep. Perhaps it's something I never would have known existed if it weren't for him.
As for the reason behind it…
I can't really say that I give it much thought.
He lives in more than one world, and it concerns me. It's like he's trapped somewhere between the past, the present, and some other place that I haven't quite figured out yet. He's lost parts of himself, somewhere along the spiralling paths that make up his life, and they come back to him in ways that haunt him in the most frightening of ways.
He's so torn up and lost inside, that I actually find myself wanting to help him, and I haven't the faintest idea on how to go about it. It's strange, I suppose. But I can't say that I've ever cared for anyone the way that I care for him, and it's even more strange that I don't really care about the reasons behind it.
Every night since I've brought him into my life, he cries and screams in his sleep. He relives things that you'd never know about if you only knew him in his waking state. There's nothing I can do to ease it or stop it, and often, I simply have to let it play out. I've discovered that waking him is not always the best course of action. He becomes so disoriented if he's abruptly awakened, and it only makes matters worse.
But it's not so much the crying and the screaming that bothers me. It's not even the struggling, and the fact that I often have to get out of the bed until he's done in order to protect myself. It's the begging and the pleading for forgiveness that bother me the most. It bothered me before I knew who Haldric was, and it bothers me even more now that I know, since it's his name that he begs for forgiveness from.
Whatever happened between them still remains a mystery to me, and I often find myself taking up a place on the floor and listening to him, trying to piece together a puzzle that makes no sense to me at all. I've read over all of his records that I could find, and the fact that there were dropped assault charges, and even a rape charge put in place by Tseng, and dropped by Reno, confuses me even more.
I can't help but wonder what could have happened, to make Reno feel like he is the one who needs to ask for forgiveness from a person that brutalized him over a good portion of his life. To make matters worse, he even says that he loves him.
It's pure torture to watch him cry in some hellish nightmare and say, "I'm sorry… Please forgive me… Please…" It's pure torture to know that I can do nothing about it, and to know it's the reason he tries to push everyone away from him. It's most likely the reason he's lived alone for so many years.
Does he feel like he's betraying him by being with me?
I've never told Reno what he says in his sleep, even though I've confronted him on my suspicions, and perhaps it's wrong of me to attempt to piece him together in such a manner. But I'm not very good at deciding how to best deal with a relationship that I have no clue over where I stand.
That's what Reno does to me though. He tears me down and breaks me apart, and I find myself needing it as much as I need air to breathe. I don't know why I need it so much. But when I see him smile, and the rare times when I see the pain wash away from those beautiful eyes of his, it all seems worth it. Everything suddenly seems worth it when he actually looks at me like he needs me as much as I need him, and I find myself wanting to believe that it's true.
He gets up every morning, even in the condition that he's in, and still makes me breakfast. He still smiles at me and calls me beautiful when I come into the kitchen to grab my coffee, and I almost believe that he means it. Or, perhaps I simply want to believe it.
Despite all that's happened to him, he still plays with his wit. Everything is like a game to him, and he plays with it endlessly. I even find myself uncharacteristically entertaining the thought that he may just die laughing. But I doubt that would ever happen. His moods are as unpredictable as his actions, and he can be as frighteningly dark as he can be light. Everything about him is a contradiction in the bare essence of the word.
His energy is electric in nature. He moves about, fidgets, and chatters like he's going to explode if he doesn't expel the currents running through his body. Even as he cooks the eggs, he's constantly scraping at them and stirring at them. It doesn't even surprise me that he's tapping his foot as well, and smoking a cigarette.
This is what he's like when he's sober. As child-like and innocent as it seems, he's actually quite dangerous like this. The thoughts that go on in his mind torture him to no end, and he is capable of lashing out over any little thing that minutely irritates him.
It wasn't until he cut down on the alcohol that I really started to notice the reason he drank so much. I always knew that he used it to run away from something, and although I am still not quite certain of the extent of what he's running from, I believe I'm starting to understand now. I'm not certain if drowning it away is the best answer for him, but from what little I've managed to learn, I believe I can speculate why he doesn't want to face his demons.
As tired as I still am from just waking up, I still can't help but stand there and admire the man. What is it that I admire about him so much? I contemplate the question while I pick up his cup and smell the alcohol content in there, noticing that he must have filled it more than halfway before putting his coffee in.
Putting it back down and watching him with a careful eye, I see him flinch and abruptly turn away. He knows how I feel about his drinking, and I know he knows how I feel about him smoking. I try not to let it bother me though, because there is so much more to him than just bad habits, and I truly want him to know this.
Feeling like I shouldn't have so obviously picked up his cup, and realising that I just stirred another full bucket of shame for him, I walk over to him and brush the hair that he so painfully hides behind from his face, and I kiss him on the cheek. I'd ask him how he's feeling, but considering the response I got the last time I asked him that, I decide I'll skip it this time and just take another sip of my coffee while I hang my head over his shoulder and watch what he's doing. I'm in no mood this morning to tear down his strange morning cheer.
I'm not sure if my closeness bothers him or not, but I can't help it. He intoxicates me to the point of irrationality, and he smells oddly like an exotic spice, so much so, that I find myself wanting to pull him into me while I wrap my arms around his waist. I know I was wrong to bring him into my life the way that I did, and sometimes I wonder if I went too far by doing it. But the thought is comforted when he leans back and takes his hand from the handle of the frying pan, and rests it on the back of my own hand.
"We should go somewhere," he says, like he's lost in thought. He still has that playful smile, and he turns his head to glance at me with those impish eyes of his before turning his attention back to the stove. The colours and natural light practically dance around in them. They're full of layers upon layers of emotions and thoughts, and I'm not sure if he's aware of it or not, but they literally speak to me in a language all their own. But I think, perhaps he does know. Perhaps that's why he hides behind his hair all the time.
Then I nuzzle him closer, and silently pray that I can keep him forever while I ask, "Where should we go?"
"Anywhere," he replies, with a shrug, and reaches over to turn the stove off, "Away…" He turns and runs his eyes over my face then, as if he's uncertain about what he's saying and worried about how I'll respond. "A vacation?" he adds, with his brow cocked, and I suddenly wish I knew why he was always so nervous, "Maybe?"
"A vacation," I repeat, and tilt my head down to suspiciously look at him. I don't really repeat it to ask the question, or to encourage him to feel like he suggested something absurd, even though I'm sure that my reaction has done just that. I simply repeat it in order for it to sink in. I'm not even sure if he's actually being serious since he's so hard to read half the time. But I entertain the thought, just in case he really is being serious, and ask, "Where would we go?"
"Dunno…" he responds, as he moves the pan aside and turns completely in my arms so that he's facing me, and I take the opportunity to brush my lips against his. He's so delicate and finely featured that, at times, I almost forget he's as deadly as a viper, and fear I will break him if I move too roughly with him. I don't dare tell him that though, knowing how bruising it would be to his ego. "Someplace nice…" he says, and shrugs again, "Private."
"So… Costa Del Sol is out of the question?" I ask him, and bring my fingers up to trace the features of his smooth skin. It's difficult to tell if his youthful appearance has anything to do with what Hojo did to him when he was a child. I suppose it's a strange thought to contemplate while he's telling me he wants to get away. But I can't help but wonder why he appears to have been frozen in time.
"Heh…" he starts, nervously, and raises his brow, "Never been ta Costa Del Sol." And then he scratches the back of his neck like he just told me a dark and well-kept secret. I admit, I'm surprised to hear him say that though, and I push his hair back again, since it constantly falls over those beautiful eyes of his, while musing over the fact that I thought he'd been everywhere.
"Then that's where we should go," I tell him, and brush my lips along his left scar. I've always found it odd that he simply doesn't react to me touching him like this all the time. I'm well aware that I am literally fondling him most of the time.
And, perhaps, I'm even doing it excessively. But despite his fear of being intimate, and even more so, being with another man, he does nothing to stop me from doing it. He doesn't even behave like it bothers him in the least, and it seems contradictory for him to not react at all, and perhaps that's why I do it.
Everything about him intrigues me, and I'm always trying to find out what he views as acceptable, and what he doesn't, and I'm never disappointed at the fact that he often surprises me by doing the exact opposite of what I would expect him to do. "When would you like to go?" I softly say, into his ear, and press my cheek to his, while I run my hands along his back and hold him as closely as I can without crushing him.
Part of me wants to die already, since I know why he suddenly wants to go somewhere that he's never wanted to go before, and part of me is thrilled that he actually wants to go somewhere with me. If only there was a guarantee that I could give him that he won't be meeting his end as soon as he thinks. But I know if I were to tell him my plans, he'd only get angry, and I'd wind up alone, for Gaia knows how many nights until he got over it.
Besides, the issue is non-debateable.
"Well, did'n wanna impose on yer schedule," he mutters, and pulls back a little to view me, as he raises his brow, "I don't wanna be getting in the way of things… Jus thought it would be nice ta go somewhere, ya know?" He says it, almost like he's asking for approval. "Whenever's good fer ya," he adds, and then he turns around to grab a plate for me.
Whenever's good for me…
The man is dying, and he says, whenever's good for me.
"We'll see how things go," I answer, and grab my cup to take it to the table with me.
After all, there are a few loose ends that I need to tie up around here before I can even consider vacationing.
"Ya said it was'n gonna cost me nothin!" I suddenly hear, as the shooting range goes silent and the redhead's gun flies to the ground. He pulls out that prototype that he stole from Scarlet four years ago, and pushes the man that he decided to pick an argument with against the back wall with it, "Ya fuckin piece'a shit! Ya think ya can swindle me?"
I almost smile, before I tell myself to ignore what's going on when I see my father enter the area to view the raucous. The redhead is on top of the man now, and practically strangling him with his own tie, while he reaches towards his belt and pulls out his knife.
"Ya know what this is?" he asks the man beneath him, and waves the blade in a manner that mimics icing a cake. When the man nervously nods, the redhead flicks out his tongue, smiles at him, and says, "Good! Cuz it's the last fuckin thing yer ever gonna see!" Then he leans closer and whispers into his ear, "'Sides my face, Man."
He starts giggling then, as if he's gone mad, and gets forcefully pulled back by the brute force of his partner, Rude. Then he screams and starts kicking the man on the floor, and I believe that tears are running from his eyes. Whether it's from laughing so much, or the sudden outburst of screaming, or if he's actually crying, is uncertain. "Ren!" his partner yells at him. They often shorten his name when he gets like this, and I figure it's just easier for them all to call him that since it's only one syllable.
It doesn't take long for Tseng to come walking, quickly, up to them both, and smacking the wild-eyed redhead, hard, across the face to snap him out of his sudden episode, while his partner holds him firmly from behind. "What's this all about?" my long-term guardian calmly asks, and receives nothing but taunting banter as a response.
With an angry glare at the maniac in Rude's grasp, and then to Rude, Tseng snaps his fingers and orders Rude to get the redhead out. "Get him out of here, Rude," he says, in a firm tone, and then he points at the man on the floor and orders the guards from the hall to take him to the infirmary.
"Ya know, Rude?" the redhead says, with a sultry drawl, as they're struggling towards the door, "Yer kinda… Turnin me on."
"You're not my type, Ren," his partner solemnly says, and pulls his arms back, tighter, to force him to stand up straighter.
"Ya sure?" he asks his partner, as a devilish grin creeps across his face, "Tastes change, ya know."
"I'll pass."
I admit I'm surprised to hear him say something like that, and brush it off as him just trying to rile his partner. But I'm left confused when he suddenly turns to me and locks his eyes with mine for a brief moment. It was the same look he gave to me a couple of days earlier in Tseng's office, when he confronted me about the bruises he saw on my neck.
I can't really say what actually happened, since I lack any previous experience. But I almost thought he was going to kiss me, and I found myself openly anticipating it. That was, until Tseng dragged him out by the collar of his shirt. I realise I must have been wrong though, since he definitely has a taste for the female of the species. But he's left me feeling confused, nonetheless.
I suppose I should have been in better control over my curiosity though, and I'm reminded of that as Rude drags Reno down the hall, toward the elevator, and my father places his hand roughly on my shoulder.
"I'd like to see you in my office immediately, Rufus," he says, with a hint of impending promise to his voice, and then he walks out of the room to leave me with no choice but to follow him.
I should have never shown an interest in the redhead. I should have kept my attention on the range, is all I can say to myself, as I step into the same elevator as my father, to make our ascent to a punishment that I'm no longer sure of whether I deserve it or not.
I suppose deserving has nothing to do with it though, and I'm not sure if it ever did.
"Take off your clothes, Rufus," he orders me, as the elevator door closes behind us, and then he walks over to his closet to pull out his favourite strap.
I do as I'm told, because it simply isn't worth doing otherwise, and Gaia forbid that we actually get any stains on them…
After all, it might raise some questions.
I walk down the halls of the infirmary and catch the eye of the man I was looking for, Doctor Jenzun, and motion with my hand for him to follow. Once we're in the elevator, I hit the button for 4B, and ask the man how much progress he's made in his observations towards Reno's newly discovered condition, and he answers that there is not enough time.
Not quite the answer I was looking for, but given the circumstances, I suppose that it's the best I could have expected. I've already asked him about suppressing the Mako in Reno's system, but it turns out that any kind of further tampering with his system in those regards will only escalate the instability that he is already experiencing. Doctor Jenzun reminds me that whatever they did to attain the same result, when he was captured, has already started a complex process within the man. Anything further could have undesirable results.
"I see," I comment, while I attempt to remain focused. But the noise in my head is starting to get the better of me. Then, while closing my eyes to relieve the pressure for a moment, I dig into my pocket for those elixirs that Reno is always making sure I have, and I glance at my watch. It's a strange habit to have, I suppose, to always check the time when the voices start, but it's a bit of a game to me. I've been doing it since the day I noticed they always arrived at the same time every day, throughout the day. These are the eight-hundred hour ones. The next attack will happen around fourteen hundred-hours.
At least the elixirs work, even though I admit I was sceptical at first. But there was always something about Reno that I… simply trusted. I'm not sure if I could say why. Perhaps it was the fact that he was strangely kind to me without really being kind at all. The simple fact that he noticed in the first place was oddly comforting in itself.
I remember the first time he gave me the elixir. It was just after my mother had died…
"What is that thing?"
"It's a stick," the redhead replies to his partner, and pulls out a long rod that he stole from the weapons department, "Ya beat people with it." For effect, the man hits the table with a few rough blows, making the fuller cups of coffee spill over, and laughs about it. Then he tosses it in the air and catches it with a whistle, before he reaches into his pocket and places a small vial in front of me. "Fer yer 'ead," he says, and then he winks at me.
He notices my apprehension, and I wonder how he could have known that my head was hurting in the first place. For a moment, I find myself mesmerized by his eyes, before he explains, "Get em all the time mahself." Then he shrugs and pulls out his chair so he can straddle the back of it, "Werks fer me… Might werk fer ya, too."
"What good is a stick going to do you when you're out on the field?" Tseng asks the man, while he wipes up the spilled coffee with the napkin he used for his lunch.
"Ya can do more'n beat people with it, Sir."
In order to show them what he's talking about, he turns a dial on the end, and then stops dead when the janitor comes in to tidy up. The man has a strange quirk when it comes to other redheaded males, and I can't really say that I fully understand it.
His eyes suddenly dilate, and change from that light and playful sea green that draws my attention, like a houchou to a flame, into an almost black teal blue, and he actually looks sad. He even looks a little frightened, and guilty as well. All I really know about his past is what Tseng has told me, and all Tseng ever told me was that he was mistreated.
I find myself contemplating if it has something to do with a sibling or a father, since I really don't know anything about his past or his family life, and I find it oddly comforting to know that I'm not the only one.
Both Tseng and Rude nervously clear their throats then, and share a concerned glance with each other. I admit, I've seen them behave this way around him several times, but I don't really know what's going on. Then Rude takes a deep breath, and gets up from his seat to stand behind the redhead, and places his hand on his shoulder. "Is everything all right?" he calmly asks, and waits for an answer.
For a while, Reno just continues to stare into space, and I can almost see the colours swimming, like small waves in his eyes. They move and blend together, then separate like they're alive. I realise I must be staring though, because Tseng calls my name to pull me out of whatever hypnotic spell I was under.
I quickly look up at him, and he subtly shakes his head at me, to warn me not to get too enthralled with the redhead. He believes I'm too interested in the man as it is, and often warns me to stay away from him. He warns me that he's dangerous, and that I should be cautious around him. He's also warned me that not only is the redhead dangerous, but it's also dangerous for, both, me and the redhead, should my father ever take notice of my unexplainable fascination.
"Hm?" he says, and his eyes go back to normal after he blinks a couple of times, and then he looks up at his partner. He almost looks stunned that the large man has taken up a spot beside him, and then he shakes his head and turns back to the table. "Oh… yeah…" he says, hesitantly, and nervously scratches one of the scars on his face. Then he adjusts his sunglasses that he keeps, just under his hairline, to let more of his bang fall so he can hide behind it, "Gonna… do… some trainin…"
He gets out of his chair then, and hitches the rod onto his belt. After that, he pulls out his gun and checks the chamber. All the while, he keeps his head down, as if to hide from something.
"Try that elixir, Sir," he says to me, without looking, and points at the small vial, "Dunno if it'll werk fer ya…" Then he shrugs and nervously smiles, before he pulls back the safety. "But ya never know 'til ya try… Right?" he asks the question more to his partner than he does to me, and he asks it almost like he's looking for approval over his actions. But that doesn't make much sense, considering he behaves like he doesn't really care about anything at all.
The fluid is bitter, but it does the trick. The pressure goes down and the noise lowers to a tolerable level. I'm still not quite certain about how he knew in the first place. But that is something I've come to know about Reno over the years. Contradictory to how he behaves over people's sexual preferences, he's one of the best at reading people in regards to every other aspect. Knowing just a fraction of what I know about him now, I understand that most of it comes from personal experience. He simply recognises certain things and puts it together in his head.
The elevator stops and the doors open. I naturally step out first and expect the doctor to follow me, and he does. As we walk down the hall, he reminds me that I should be taking care of myself as well. If only he knew how tired I was of him saying that. There's nothing anyone can do about it, except maybe, the one man who was bred to be a scientist and absolutely despises them, my Reno.
I'm not sure about how much of his own records he's read. But he had an IQ of 148 before Hojo ever got his hands on him. It wasn't Hojo that made him smart, despite the fact that his IQ had risen to 228 when he was assessed before joining the Turks.
All Hojo did to him was stop his ability to stop his own mind from being overactive, and enhance his photographic memory, and I almost smile to myself when I think about the activity that goes on in Reno's head, considering the level of insanity it would drive most people to, and yet he manages to hold on. In fact, if it wasn't for his stress disorder, he'd probably be as close to sane as one could get, considering everything he's been through.
The anticipation to put my theory to the test is enough for me to want to put Adrienne's mind into more of an overdrive than I've already set it to. But I have to remind myself that I'm after a little more than just vengeance. After all, something tells me that this Aldrich is the one that is more responsible for Reno's state than the small scrap I've managed to collect. Perhaps I can find out enough to be able to piece that mystery together, since Reno still offers no information when it comes to what I've gathered is his past lover.
However, I'm more or less hoping to find out more about what they did to Reno in regards to the Mako in his system. I'm also hoping to find out exactly how much they know in regards to a few of the other things that have been done to the precious prodigy that has become such an integral part of my life. If they know what was done, perhaps they'll know how it can be undone. Or at the very least, we'll have a starting point to figure it out on our own.
If not, there's always plan C…
We stop in front of the cryogenics division, and I swipe my card to grant me access. Once we step inside, I lead the doctor over to a particular vessel that I had my engineers put together the first day I suspected that something wasn't quite right with Reno. Not that there is much that is quite right with the man, but I'm talking about his physical health at the moment.
He doesn't know it, but I've been watching him a lot closer, and for a lot longer than he thinks. I was well aware from the start that the blood he keeps coughing up is his own cells being stripped away from him, despite the fact that he was trying to hide it. I just never knew the real reason until he completely snapped and blurted everything out like he was talking about somebody else's life.
"I want you to get your men together to calibrate this," I tell the man, and hit the button to open it, "It is imperative that precautions are taken to ensure that Reno's unique requirements are able to withstand stasis, without any further damage when his system is shut down." Then I meet his eyes to watch his reaction. Not that it matters what his reaction is. He knows the rules. He does as I say, or I shoot him, simple as that.
He reminds me that the possibility of finding a cure for him could take years, if not never. "They're alien cells, Rufus," he points out, and then he adds that the research, itself, may wind up outliving me. Even if it doesn't, he feels it is necessary to remind me that Reno won't age once he's put in stasis, and then he asks me how either of us would feel about that, if by some miracle I manage to make it past my next birthday, and wind up seeing him again when I'm eighty, and he's still thirty-four.
"I don't recall mentioning that the issue was open for debate," I coldly tell him. I'm really not in the mood to discuss the matter, nor am I in the mood to give it that kind of thought. This is simply a precaution, I tell myself.
Then I run my hand against the material inside, and silently hope that it never has to come to this. I know damn well that it is something Reno will never agree to, but what no one seems to fully understand is that there is no way in the darkest regions of the Lifestream that I am going to let him go… At least, not while there's still a chance I can keep him alive.
"Have you spoken to him about this?" the doctor asks me, and looks at me sceptically. He's known me for the greater portion of my life, and knows that I am not the most agreeable person one could have contact with. He's also gotten to know Reno ever since Meteor nearly hit, and he's come to know that he is as equally disagreeable as I am. Albeit, we have our own unique ways of disagreeing, we disagree nonetheless.
"No," I answer, and ensure that he understands how serious I am, "He is not to know about this…" And now that he's met my eyes, I can stress, "Ever."
Feeling certain that I've gotten my message through, I hand the man a disk with all of Reno's health records on it, and tell him exactly what it is, and what I expect him to do with it. He understands that I am not making a request, and nods. "Good," I say, and nod back as I make my way for the door. "I trust I can count on you to ensure that nothing goes wrong," I state, and although I know it is not necessary to threaten the good doctor, I know that he fully understands that there is no point in expecting any less from me.
"How are you going to get him to cooperate?" the doctor asks, with the hopes that he can still talk some sense into me.
"I'll shoot him if I have to," I tell him, and I mean it, "With everything else that's wrong with him, I doubt a bullet will cause you much trouble to remove." I cock my brow and stare at him then, dead on, to stress that he'd better damn-well be able to remove that fucking bullet if it comes to that.
"Is it necessary to have the heat up so high?"
The imbecile is attempting to convince me that he's unbreakable, and I simply cock my brow and check the thermostat. It seems decent enough to me, and I figure I might as well leave it where it's at. It's not my desire to cook the man. I just want to make him uncomfortable, and from what I can see, it's definitely working.
He's quite the annoying vaunter, and he irritates me to no end already, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say his IQ is below average. But then again, I thought the same thing about Reno the first time I met him too. However, Reno does have a good sense of when it's time to shut up, most of the time. I've learned throughout the years that there is often much more to a person below the surface than what meets the eye, and I'll be so kind as to give this man the benefit of the doubt. After all, he's made it through the night without so much as a complaint.
Oh, how I do love the strong ones. I pray he will not be a disappointment, and I'm so tempted to run my hand along his arm as if to pet him as a reward. But I remind myself not to touch the man in such a manner. It's hardly appropriate.
While I pull the heart monitor over to him, he continues to chatter and reminisce over what he thinks may have transpired between Aldrich and Reno, and I admit, I am more than curious myself. But I'm not about to give the man the smallest feeling of victory by falling prey to my own weakness, and it's a great one at that.
So, instead I just listen to him, and I am periodically tempted to simply put a bullet in his head just to shut him up. But I think strangling him would give me more satisfaction. There's something about the sound that almost gets me off. However, I've never really given it much thought as to why, and I really don't care either. In fact, I should probably stop thinking about it because the mere thought is starting to excite me.
Perhaps I'll go through the employee records later and see who's been fucking up. I can always take my frustration out on them instead of my newly primed pet, and no one ever needs to know the reason behind it.
Simply beautiful, I think to myself, while I hook Adrienne up to the monitors and notice that his stress levels are rising. I should probably remind myself to breathe at this point, since I think I might have forgotten, but it happens sometimes, and I doubt I'm the only one that ever does that. It's just a small reminder to put myself back in check.
Control yourself, Rufus. You can hold out until the end of the day.
I step behind him and fill up a syringe with a mild hallucinogen, that I intend to top off in his feed, and I almost start laughing. But that would do me no good. The idiot might think I'm laughing at something he said, and it will only thwart my efforts. I've learned that keeping silent and aloof only drives them over the edge faster, and I don't want to do anything to aid him in his comfort. It's bad enough that he has the luxury of my presence in the room as it is, particularly while I inject the drug into his IV.
"Do you think they're in love with each other?" the bastard finally asks, and I catch myself unwillingly faltering. I suddenly wonder who's torturing who all of the sudden, and I uncontrollably face the mirror to meet his eyes.
Do I ever think about it? What kind of a fucking question is that?
I almost put my hand on his shoulder to show him how easily I could crush the bones with little effort, and I catch myself, hoping he didn't notice me twitch. While I attempt to close off my mind, I notice my hair is slightly standing up at the back when my peripheral vision catches that part of my reflection in the mirror, and I find myself unintentionally fixing it. Of all the fucking things to inherit from that bastard of a father, I had to inherit his fucking cowlicks.
I suppose it could have been worse though. I could have inherited his looks, and I almost laugh about that.
Best not to though. So, I don't.
"Oh, someone's quite taken with themselves," says the annoying scullion in front of me. Then I move from my hair to straighten out the creases in my coat, and I almost snap again. But instead, I turn one of the dials on the machine to heighten his senses slightly, and then I pull off the sensors for the monitoring machines. Something about the way that he flinches makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I'm almost tempted to go straight to my apartment after this to relieve a little tension.
Oh, what decision to make… Kill someone or get my rocks off…
Maybe I'll do both.
Yes, that certainly does sound like a good idea. As I contemplate that thought, I look at my watch and am disappointed that it's not even nine-hundred hours yet. Perhaps it's a bit early for the latter. It still doesn't stop me from wondering where Reno is at the moment though, and the moment I wonder where he is, I suddenly find myself wondering how many people he's managed to irritate, and anger already. He truly is impressive at being obnoxious. For some reason, that man wants the whole world to hate him, and yet, everyone winds up loving him, and I don't know how the hell he manages to do it.
In fact, I believe I'm spending so much time wondering, that I completely fail to notice that my new pet is sweating profusely. I suppose I should turn that dial down a bit. A few more minutes shouldn't do too much harm though, and there's a slight scuff on my shoe that I feel I should tend to first. Besides, he's still chattering away about nothing important anyway, and I've managed to impress myself that I still have the ability to drown people out, almost completely.
However, I have to admit that the heat is starting to get to me, while I wipe at the marks on my shoe with my handkerchief, and once I convince myself that it's hardly noticeable, despite the fact that this is going to drive me mad for the rest of the day, I decide to reach over and turn the stimulus down a notch. Then I decide I'll make a little side trip to get this polished off. Yes, that will certainly set my mind at ease, and while I contemplate that thought, I figure a manicure wouldn't hurt either, and walk to the door while the idiot asks me where I'm going.
Somehow, I don't recall ever telling him that it was his business though, and I open the door to leave. It never ceases to amaze me. They're all fucking idiots around here.
Gaia, how I hate this fucking place.
Then, to make matters worse, when the elevator arrives, Kurn is in there on his way to the cafeteria. The temptation to just grab him by the throat and rip out his oesophagus, and stuff it back down through his mouth, is more than overbearing.
As I stand there and stare at him, with thoughts of desolation, he stares nervously back at me, and I suddenly wonder if I'm not as good at hiding my thoughts as I used to be. But then, it takes me a moment until I remember that I never was good at hiding the fact that I despised everyone around me, and I'm able to shrug it off as the door slides shut to protect the greasy maggot on the other side.
I decided along with my better judgment that it's best to skip stepping in. In fact, I'm most certain that the best course of action was to wait for the next elevator, and I curse myself for making that damn promise to Reno.
I make it back to my office after making a small side trip to the cafeteria. The food may not be as sinfully delicious as the food that Reno makes, but it will hold me over until lunch. There is just no satisfying this constant satiating hunger, and I sigh before I grab one of the sandwiches to stuff in my mouth while I punch up the surveillance system. I should have enough time to obsess over that menace before Reeve comes up to fill me in on his report.
And there he is. He's so beautifully devastating, and throwing some sort of tantrum out on the helipad, and suddenly, everything that has managed to irritate me this morning disappears while I watch that menace yell at one of the mechanics and smack him across the head. It's not so much that he's giving the mechanic a hard time. I believe it has more to do with the fact that I'm most certain that Reno's reaction is over absolutely nothing. He's so exceptionally volatile that it takes practically nothing to set him off. I do believe my heart has just fluttered, and I'm smiling at the fact that he makes me feel so… unusual.
"Sir…" comes the tinny sound of my secretary's voice, over the intercom that I really should get someone to fix. I suppose I could fix it myself, but I have much more pressing matters to tend to, like obsessing over someone that constantly tells me he hates me, and yet… he stays. Not to mention that his other half tells me that he loves me, and I find myself wondering if this is some kind of sick joke that my father set aside with his last breath, while I rub at my eyes and feel a genuine headache coming on.
Gaia, I want that man to use me until there's nothing left to use anymore. What better way to torture myself.
I wait until I'm finished chewing the bite I've just taken, and I swallow it before acknowledging her, "Yes, Sharin."
"Reeve is here to see you."
"Send him in."
Reeve walks in about the same time I reluctantly turn off the surveillance. I could honestly watch Reno all day long, if given the chance. After all, I've spent most of my life doing just that, and it's not like I couldn't hire other people to do everything else for me. But then again, I like to know what's going on.
With a sly smile on his face, like he knows what's going through my head, he walks up to my desk and sets his data pad in front of me so I can view the results for myself. I find I must agree with Reno when he points out how odd Reeve is. But I think that's what I like about the man. He doesn't wait for me to give him any orders, and takes it upon himself to take a seat with a unique confidence that few people possess, and it doesn't bother me at all. Most people would have been disciplined for such an action.
While I scroll through the data he's presented me, with regards to the grids we've agreed on powering up with the new energy, he begins to explain how he's already got everything up and running without a hitch. He's only had two days to set it all up, and I'm truly impressed. I don't let him know that though, and I set the data pad down on the desk, and regard him with a practiced emptiness that I just can't seem to wean myself away from. "And the Mako feed to those areas has been completely shut off?" I ask him, and grab my sandwich to take another bite.
"Yes," he answers, and unlike everyone else, he doesn't call me Sir when it's just the two of us. I find it oddly comforting. "We won't know for at least a few moons on the true success of the project, and I'd like to keep the Mako option still open for now," he stresses, and it simply reminds me of how cautious the man is, "Just in case." If it was anyone else, I'd most likely believe that they were trying to pull one over on me. But I know that Reeve wants to void out all use of the Mako just as much, if not more, than I do. So, I let it slide.
I can't thank whatever God played a role in his decision to come back to work for me, considering the mistrust that has been impressed upon him, over everything that my father and I have done in the past to not deserve any loyalty from anyone. There really is no one else like him on the planet.
Satisfied with everything that we've discussed within the twenty minutes he's been in my office, I pick up his data pad and motion for him to take it. Once it's in his hands, I tell him he's dismissed, and finish off the third sandwich that is sitting in front of me.
To my surprise that I refuse to show, he stops at the door with his back to me. "I know you might not believe it, Rufus…" he says, with his back still facing me, "But if Reno didn't really care about you, he wouldn't go to the lengths he goes to, in order to ensure that you're taken care of." Then he turns around to face me, and I wonder why he felt the need to say such a thing, even though I hide the sudden feeling that his words arouse in me, and I simply nod.
That may be, I think to myself. But what I happen to know as a fact, is that Reno's heart belongs to another, and I have no idea why.
He nods back and then turns to leave, and I contemplate Reno's observations on the man once again. He truly is odd.
Raising my brow at the reflection of Reeve's words, I reach back over to turn the surveillance system back on, and I am disappointed to find that Reno is no longer within viewing limits. However, to my surprise, and relief, the mechanic is still alive… oddly.
The rest of the day is much of a bore. The afternoon is filled with endless meetings that are mostly filled with requests, and I barely have time to go over all of the paperwork that keeps piling up on my desk. Not that I was really looking forward to it anyway. But I did managed to get my shoes polished before lunch, and was disappointed when I went to the apartment and wound up spending the hour alone.
Mind you, Reno isn't always home during that time, but he usually comes in and prepares a lunch for me, and he did this time as well. I just happened to miss him. For someone who never eats, he sure does seem to like cooking, and I can't help but think of how perfect he is for me in that aspect, considering that we're quite the opposite in that area, and I happen to have the metabolism of a fucking shrew. About the best I can do in food preparation is put two slices of bread together, and even then, I somehow manage to mess that up.
But back to Reno's absence, he wasn't just missing from the apartment. As a matter of fact, he managed to disappear for a good portion of the afternoon. Whatever the hell he does and however the hell he does it still baffles me, and no one has even seen him. Yet, I know he's still in the building, somewhere. But where…
The only other person I know who has the ability to disappear like he does is Tseng. But Tseng doesn't stick out like a flaming stick of dynamite under normal circumstances either. I can only assume that he's up to something, and since I can rule out Kurn today, I can only imagine that it's this friend of his that he won't offer any information on. It's yet another mystery to his past that I am suddenly as curious about as I am about Aldrich.
Whoever it is, they must be fairly adept at what they do, for Reno to leave his health in their hands, considering that the man trusts no one. What bothers me a little more about it though, is the fact that Rude so solemnly pointed out that Reno had no friends. If this person is not a friend, than why does he trust them with his life?
What the hell is he up to?
On that note, the day finally ends, and I wind up having to spend an hour longer than I intended to, on work, simply to try and catch up. And I must say that I'm pleased with my last visit to Adrienne for the day. He was showing some promising results. Though, I hope he doesn't disappoint me by cracking too soon.
Now that nobody's around, I can actually smile to myself as I slip my card through the door to our apartment, and like usual, Reno's jacket is tossed over the back of the couch, and I wonder if he does it on purpose, simply to irk me. He knows how much it irritates me.
With a frown, I begin to walk over to his jacket, even before I remove my own to hang it up, and I hear him banging around in the kitchen. But I don't see him, and I take a deep breath while wondering what the hell he's doing now, and I forget all about his jacket and walk into the kitchen. He's on the floor, on his back, and his head is buried in the cupboard underneath the sink, doing Gaia-know-what for Gaia-knows-what-reason. "What happened to the sink?" I ask him, and notice that the coffee pot is turned on and grab my cup from the cupboard.
"Garburetor's makin a funny noise," he tells me, without pulling out to acknowledge me, "Thought I'd fix it."
"Sounded fine to me," I say, and pour some coffee into my cup.
"Yeah, well, it did'n sound fine ta me."
"Hm," I state, and hope that he's going to clean up the mess that he's making, even though he usually does. However, I can't help but fret over it, as I take a sip of the coffee and am thoroughly disgusted at the fact that it must have been sitting there since lunch. I doubt I can blame Reno for this one, since it was me who made it, and I must have forgotten to turn it off. It's not ordinary for me to do that though. But I've had a lot on my mind for the last couple of days that I suppose it's easy for me to make a mistake like that, as rare as it is.
And, without really thinking, I state that, "Mm… This is gross," and dump the contents into the sink, and am immediately reminded that Reno had taken the sink apart, and was sitting under it.
"What the fuck is'a matter with you?" he shouts, from underneath, and bangs his head on the protruding pipe. I see his legs fly out, and he curses at the fact that he's just hit his head. I really know I shouldn't, but I smile anyway, and I no longer feel guilty about throwing a cup of hot coffee in his face. It all suddenly seems worth it, "That shit's fuckin hot ya asshole!"
Then he pulls out and glares angrily at me, and I casually walk over to grab a tea towel from the drawer, with my brow cocked. If he sees me smiling he's going to get even more upset, but I betray myself and start snickering when I turn around to toss it at him.
"Ya think it's fuckin funny?" he demands, and refuses to grab the towel as it falls into his lap, "Yer a fuckin piece'a shit, Rufus!"
Yes, everyone is a piece of shit in Reno's world, and I wonder if he's even aware of that, while I stare into those beautiful eyes with amusement over his child-like fury. I suppose I should apologize, but it hardly seems worth it when I know I can get him worked up even more. So, instead, I feed into it. "You could have always turned it off," I tell him, with a tone that suggests he should have known better.
"So, what? I'm supposed ta go 'round lookin fer everythin ya ferget ta do?" he barks out, and picks up the towel to wipe at his face, "I ain't yer fuckin dog, Rufus!"
"Oh, no. You're so much more than that," I tell him, while I look down at him, and smile deviously. Mind you, the thought of putting a collar on him does stir something in me, and I don't mind entertaining the idea, or even the thought on if, or when, I could ever get him to do it.
"Pompous ass," he mutters to himself, and throws the towel back at me. "If ya wanted ta fuckin brand me, ya could'a warned me first," he spits out, and starts sauntering out of the kitchen. He has such a sexy swagger to his movements that I find myself fixated more on his physicality than on him for a moment. That is, until I realize he's about to walk out.
"Where are you going?" I suddenly ask him, and the concern is no longer buried behind my inability to show any emotion.
"Ta take a fuckin shower," he replies, without turning back, "Where the fuck do ya think I'm goin?"
"So, you're going to leave the sink like this?" Oh, why the hell did I just say what I think I just said?
"What?" he slowly says, and turns to look at me in disbelief, "Are you fucking serious?" The fact that he just said what he said with no accent at all really leads me to wonder if the slum drawl is just an act.
Or perhaps it's another personality of his altogether, that none of us have really taken note of. I would have never entertained such a thought before, but since the reality of him having more than one personality has become an apparent fact, I find myself suddenly wondering. "You pour fucking scalding shit in my face, and you want to know if I'm going to fix your fucking sink?"
"Well, how do you expect me to use it?" I say, unable to apologise, and then I motion my hand towards him, "Besides, it wasn't that hot."
"It wasn't that hot?" I think I may have pushed him too far with the last bit, but for some reason, I'm really enjoying this, "You fucking asshole! Let's see how you fucking like it!" Then he grabs the carafe off of the element and throws it at me.
All the while, I contemplate on the fact that I believe he misses on purpose, as it shatters against the wall behind me. Considering the fact that I've seen him in action, and the man is deadly accurate. Yet he always misses me by a hair whenever he throws something at me. Therefore, I believe I can safely say that he does it on purpose. Of course, it doesn't explain why I never attempt to get out of the way either, as he continues with his rant, "Are you fucking insane?"
"You should know," I say, and start walking toward him with the intention of grabbing his wrist, "They say it's always easy to recognize certain traits if we possess them ourselves."
"Get the fuck away from me!" he shouts, when I manoeuvre behind him and grab his other wrist.
"Not until you clean this mess." I can't really say why I'm doing this, and I know I'm really pushing it. But I push him back into the kitchen anyway, and bury my face into his neck. Gaia, he smells so good. I can't even smell the tobacco and alcohol on him like I can on other people with the same habits.
All I can smell is that spice, and believe me, I've ravished nearly everything that he owns trying to find out what the hell it is, and finally, for the first time since I've known him, I break down and ask, "What the hell is that scent?" He's already upset, so asking can do no harm at this point.
"What fucking scent?" he asks, and stops struggling while curiously turning his head toward me.
"That spice… It's almost like… cinnamon and nutmeg… or something… But not quite," I huskily say, into his ear and brush my lips along the edge, "It's exotic."
He lifts his brow at that, and actually sniffs the air while looking at the stove. "All I smell is dinner," He says.
"What's for dinner?" I ask, and slip my hand into the opening of his shirt as I place small kisses along his neck, and I'm not ashamed to say that I'm completely confused as to what I'm doing and why I'm suddenly doing it.
"Ain't nothin special," he muses, and shrugs in my hold, "Figured I'd cook that duck."
"Duck sounds good."
"Yeah… Well… I know ya like it."
"Mm," I mutter, and continue to uncontrollably fondle him while he continues to act like I'm doing nothing at all. Is it possible for him to drive me any more crazy? "I certainly do."
"Uh… Rufus…" With a mild hesitance, he places his hand over mine to stop it from moving, and nods at the stove, "I can't just leave dinner… It'll burn."
"Well, you didn't seem to mind a minute ago when you were going to take a shower," I remind him, and realize that we've gone completely off topic.
"Ya threw hot coffee in my face," he reminds me, "How the fuck do ya expect me ta react?"
On that thought, I turn him around and regard the red mark across his forehead, and gently kiss it. "Let me put something on that," I quietly say, while I keep my hold on one of his wrists and let the other go, as I reach into the drawer to pull out some balm, "And how about you tell me what that spice is while I get you mended up?"
"It's jus oranges," he says, still somewhat confused, "I put oranges on it."
"Oranges on what?" I ask, with my brow cocked, and open the tube with my teeth. For some paranoid reason I always feel like he's going to run if I let him go, and I just can't allow that. So, I keep him in place with my other hand, "Yourself?"
"Huh?" He jerks back slightly when I pour some of the cream on his forehead and put the bottle down, "Don't play with my fuckin head, Rufus. I put oranges on the duck."
"I'm not talking about the duck, Reno," I say, while I rub the cream in, "I'm talking about you."
With a nervous chuckle, he runs his eyes over me in confusion, "Well, I ain't puttin no fuckin spice on myself, ya nut." He says it like he's wondering if I'm asking him to put spice on himself, and for some reason, I find myself smiling at the thought. I've honestly never speculated doing something like that, and I decide to put the thought aside for a later date.
"You smell like some sort of spice," I tell him, and pull him closer to me, so I can breathe it in again, "You always smell like this." And Gaia how much it intoxicates me.
"Don't think I own anythin that smells like spice," he muses, and cocks his brow while he thinks about it, and I wrap both my arms around him, "Maybe it's jus from the kitchen?"
I'm not fully satisfied with his answer though. But he appears to be genuine, and maybe he really doesn't know, and I suppose I will just have to continue to find an answer on my own, while I plunge my tongue fervently into his mouth.
Gaia, he even tastes like it.
It's all irrelevant though, particularly when he slips his cuffs on me before I have the chance to realise what he's doing, and then he reaches over to turn off the oven.
With an impish grin, and fiery green eyes that dance with a light all to their own, he moves swiftly before I have a chance to react. Like a viper, he's all over me on the floor, ready to dominate me with a sweet, succulent torture that only he is capable of producing. He doesn't do it because I want him to. He does it because he wants to, and that's what makes it all the more delicious and succulent.
He uses me like no other is capable of using me, and once again, I'm reminded of why I love him so much.
"You're nothing, Rufus," he says to me when he pins me against the wall to hold me still. I want to scream, and I need to scream, but there's no way I'll ever give him the satisfaction, "You'll always be nothing."
That's right Father…
"Say it!"
To let him know that he's gotten through to me, I bitterly repeat it back to him, as I defiantly stare him in the eyes.
"I'm 'nothing', 'Sir'."
Oddly enough though, I think I'm starting to believe it.
Revised: January 11, 2009
