29. Ghosts of Future Lost


My eyes drifted open to find another pair watching me. For a few moments, I just let myself admire the unusual shade of blue, too sleep-addled to wonder about the hows and whys.

Reno smiled.

"Mornin', sleepyhead."

"You're still here," I mumbled, letting my heavy eyelids sink down again.

"Yeah. That a problem?"

"Of course not," I said, reaching up to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I felt his hand touch my hair, pushing it out of my face with unhurried caresses. A pleasant tingle danced down my spine.

"Mm, that's better," he murmured once my face was exposed.

"I need to have it cut soon." I cracked my eyes open to glance at the tousled mess crowning his head. "It's getting longer than yours."

"That's your benchmark, eh?" he chuckled.

"Something like that."

We just watched each other. Reno's eyes were a little bloodshot, a little tired. No wonder, really, considering the number of beers he had downed. There was something in them, some emotion lurking near the surface, but I was too drowsy to figure it out.

"Brought coffee. It's behind ya."

As I pushed myself up on my elbows, I noticed he was lying on top of the covers in jeans and the angry chocobo t-shirt.

"You're dressed?"

"Outta coffee. Went out and got some."

"Shit, that's right. Thanks."

"No prob, yo."

He stayed still while I picked up my coffee. Only his eyes moved, watching the cup as I brought it to my lips and down into my lap. Then they returned to my face.

"Any chance you're gonna tell me what's on your mind?"

I felt a strange sort of lurch in my stomach.

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking another sip to hide my wilting expression.

"Last night. Other nights. Now and then you stop lookin' me in the eye. Somethin' sets ya off."

I was doing it that very moment, too. I tried to break the habit, but all I could manage was to glance in his direction.

"It's not important."

Silence for a few breaths, then a sigh.

"Suit yourself, yo."

He shifted around on the bed to grab his cup from the bedside table, but grimaced and rolled his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" I wondered, looking up.

"Just a bit stiff, s'all."

I reached out for his shoulder, stroking a few slow circles with my palm before kneading the muscles through the t-shirt with my fingers. Stiff was the word, all right.

"Couch again?"

"Yeah."

"As far as I know, I don't snore much. The bed's a lot more comfortable, too."

In response, Reno mumbled a half-hearted "I bet". There was a slight curve to his parted lips, just a hint of a smile. His eyelids drooped and some of the knotted tension was already dissipating, and normally I would have relished the way his body responded to my touch. Now it just made me wonder if all we had left was a physical connection. The man wouldn't even sleep in the same bed with me, for heaven's sake.

I let my hand fall and clutched my mug tighter. His sigh held a touch of disappointment, but he picked up his coffee and lay down again, in a mirror of my pose. Neither of us said anything as we sipped our coffee. I could feel the silence, growing and pressing down on me as his question echoed in my mind.

This was stupid. I was stupid. Maybe things couldn't change, but how would I ever find out if I kept my mouth shut? There were so many questions, though, so many doubts. Where was I supposed to start?

"Reno..." I had no idea what I wanted to say, but to stay quiet was unbearable. "What are we doing?" I finally asked.

"Uh, havin' coffee?"

His grin made it clear that he wasn't serious, but it wasn't enough to lighten the mood.

"You know what I mean," I sighed. "This..." I waved a hand between us. "Us. What is this?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Lookin' for strings, babe?"

"No!"

It was a kneejerk response, triggered before I had thought it through. The grin on his face faltered.

"No, I... I mean–"

"Nah, it's cool," he said, interrupting my stammering. "I get it."

I was pretty sure he didn't.

"I didn't mean it like that. I–"

"It's fine." He flashed me a new smile. "Ain't like I was serious about it, anyhow."

As I racked my sleepy brain for some way to undo my hasty reply, he emptied his cup in one swig and rolled out of bed.

"It's been fun, babe, but I gotta get goin'. Gotta be back at the Cliff this afternoon, yo."

"Reno–"

"No need to get up. Stay here with your coffee," he said, coming up to my side of the bed to plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'll see myself out."

"Just wait a sec and listen, will you?"

He didn't. I tried to go after him, but by the time I had disentangled myself from the sheets, the slam of the front door was echoing through the empty house. Seconds later I heard the roar of his bike. I stared at the bedroom door, filled with a bewildered remorse.


Sunday morning found me lonely and restless. I reflected on Reno's visit over my morning coffee, staring out the kitchen window. On Friday night, it had been so easy to convince myself that strings only bring pain. When I tried to repeat those assurances now, all I saw was the look on Reno's face.

I didn't know what to think. If he wanted more, wouldn't he make it known in other ways? Come clean about Shinra's intent? Call me from time to time? Text me just to say good night? For all I knew, he didn't spare me a single thought unless he wanted a bit of fun for the weekend – or needed a report.

Still, I tried to fix things. I sent him a message soon after his hasty departure.
I didn't mean it that way. Let's talk about it? Call me?

The reply was short.
its cool dont worry bout it

So much for that. I couldn't fix anything.

Frustrated, I let myself drift back in time, into older memories. Reno's tactless remarks about Camille made my thoughts shift to my sister, then to my parents. Earth. Victor. James. My heartbeat echoed in the empty space within, slow and hollow.

Elmyra's suggestion came back to me, as it often had during low moments over the past weeks. It was the last of the changes I had resolved to make, the one I kept saving for a better time.

An excuse, nothing more. If I kept waiting for a "good" time, I would be waiting forever.

My garden had grown well. A little harvest wouldn't make much of a dent. One by one, I picked and named the flowers for a bouquet. White lilies for my parents and for Camille. Yellow rainflowers for old friends. One red poppy for the world I would never see again. Flowers in hand, I set off toward the Meteorfall memorial.

Mythril Park was a shining example of horticultural diligence. The fresh green lawns were neatly mowed and the shrubs fastidiously clipped. I made my way to the center along its tidy paths, wondering if my fellow pilgrims felt a similar sense of growing inadequacy. For every graceful floral arrangement I passed, the bouquet in my hand seemed a touch shabbier.

As soon as I reached my destination, the discomfort vanished. The statue in the middle of the small open square drowned in the sea of flowers and candles around it. As saddening as it was to see such a vast array of grief, I also found encouragement in the riot of clashing colors and shapes. In such motley company, it was easier to feel welcome.

The statue portrayed a woman, a man and a child. It was decades old, I had been told, but had acquired new meaning for people after Meteorfall. The marble family wouldn't mind if I were to bestow a meaning of my own upon them. I placed my bouquet at the edge of the floral sea.

"Hi, Tess."

I sucked in a quick breath, more out of surprise than alarm. Chelsea had appeared beside me, carrying a handful of pretty flowers. I had seen ones like them in the meadows near the base camp she used, though I could only remember the name of the cornflowers. Despite her greeting, she wasn't looking at me. She was studying my flowers.

"I haven't seen you here before," she remarked.

"It's my first visit."

She hummed, then remained by my side while we stood in silence. I found it hard to concentrate on the reason I had come. I didn't think she would be so crass as to make snide comments under circumstances like these, but the memory of our previous spats was making me tense.

"I talked to a friend in ARK the other day," Chelsea finally said. "She says someone at our office sorted out the new water supply outside. I know it wasn't Grigori, which leaves only one person with that kind of pull among the higher-ups."

I hadn't advertised my involvement, but I should have known that news traveled fast in a small town like Kalm.

"All I did was make a call. Reeve was happy to help once I explained how bad it was out there."

She nodded, gazing at the statue, then set down her bouquet next to mine. She touched one of my lilies, tilting the flower her way. The white petals contrasted with her tan, which had deepened to a tawny hue, like the honey Elmyra used to sweeten her tea. Chelsea had spent her summer toiling in the sun, but as far as I knew, she and Jonuel hadn't been back to the badlands since–

"I need to apologize," Chelsea said as she straightened up, her voice subdued. "For my behavior."

I blinked several times, caught off guard again.

"It's fine," I blurted out when I realized she was waiting. "What happened in the badlands was... rough, on all of us."

I was happy to leave it at that if it meant an end to her hostility, but she shook her head.

"It was more than that. I recognized your friend, and lumped you in with them. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

I remembered the glares she and Reno had exchanged. A nervousness jittered in the pit of my stomach.

"You recognized the suit?" I asked, trying to get a feel for their connection.

"Not just the suit. Him. Reno."

"Oh."

I wasn't sure what sort of conclusion to draw from that. We stood in silence for a while, but in the end my curiosity grew too great.

"He recognized you, too."

"I see." She paused, and the silence swelled uncomfortably before she spoke again. "What did he say about me?"

Her voice wavered. It could have been hope. It could have been apprehension.

"I asked how you knew each other. He said it was ancient history and left it at that."

"I suppose that's one thing he's right about," Chelsea said with a strange little smile.

I waited, but she seemed content to end the discussion there. I wasn't, not anymore.

"I accept your apology, but I'd like to hear the whole story."

She hesitated. I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of discussing Reno with her either, but he told me so little of himself. Here, at last, was a chance to find out more.

You could ask him, dummy.

He wasn't here, though. He had left. Again.

You made him leave, moron.

"I've been getting the cold shoulder from you for months, when all I did was call for help," I pointed out. "I think I deserve to know the reason why. Don't you?"

The edge in my voice had nothing to do with her, but maybe it helped goad her all the same. She breathed out in a huff and glanced around at the other memorial visitors.

"Okay, but can we go somewhere quiet first? It's not a pleasant memory."

"Sure."

Chelsea took us down a side path to a more secluded section of the park. We strolled along the edge of a large pond, until she came to a halt and looked out over the still water. The lawns on the other side seemed to be a popular choice for Sunday picnics, but they were distant enough that the sounds of chatter and laughter were muted. Behind us was a thicket of tall bushes, whose pink flowers tinged the air with a scent like jasmine. In other circumstances, it would have been a pleasant spot for contemplation.

"It's years ago now," Chelsea said. "Six or seven. I'd just come back to Midgar after months of traveling around the Planet, when I met a charming man in a sharp suit."

"Reno," I concluded, but she shook her head.

"No, not him. His partner, Rude."

"Rude?" I echoed, turning my head to stare at her.

"Yes, Rude. We dated for a while."

"You dated Rude?"

"Is it that hard to believe?" she asked, giving me a sour look. "He's a bit shy, sure, but he was sweet. Thoughtful and attentive."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be... well, rude." I gave her a sheepish smile, and to my relief a small smile appeared on her face, too. "He's just so quiet and stony compared to you."

"Not all of us go for the motormouths," she dryly remarked. "Yes, I dated Rude. Fell for him rather hard, in fact. It would have been perfect..." She hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Except AVALANCHE had sent me to spy on the Turks."

If the previous revelation had taken me by surprise, this one left me dumbstruck.

"You... were an agent?"

"Hardly," she scoffed. "Just a foolish student, who was far too idealistic for her own good. Little did I know at the time that AVALANCHE would turn out more monstrous than Shinra."

"What do you mean?"

She folded her arms across her chest and slowly shook her head as she watched the water lapping at the pond's edge.

"Human experimentation. Murder. Civilian casualties. AVALANCHE wasn't picky about their methods."

"Hang on," I protested, "I know someone who fought with AVALANCHE. It wasn't like that."

"Oh, this was long before that Midgar crew started bombing reactors last year," she said with a dismissive wave. "The old AVALANCHE had the same name and the same enemy, but that's all they had in common."

Reno had mentioned something along those lines, I recalled, but he had never gone into details.

"So, what happened?"

Chelsea pursed her lips, and for a moment her expression made her look an awful lot like Mrs. Cole from next door.

"I was discovered. By Reno as it happens. He'd been spying on me for a while, gathering proof, or so I heard later. I never knew at the time of course. I was a kitten preying on wolves." Her laughter rang hollow.

I thought back on how they had both reacted in the badlands, face to face again.

"That does make a little more sense now," I mumbled. "What did he do?"

"I made the first move, actually," she was quick to correct me. "I was already getting cold feet, and I told AVALANCHE to stuff it before Reno blew my cover. It wasn't easy, but in the end I walked away. Left the whole mess behind me."

"They let you leave?" I wasn't sure which "they" I meant, but Chelsea heard it her way.

"Well... AVALANCHE weren't happy about it. Maybe all the times they tried to kill me convinced the Turks they didn't need to bother." Her lips twitched.

Or one of the Turks convinced them himself, I mused, recalling how oddly Reno and Rude had both behaved on our return trip to Kalm. Neither had forgotten, that much was clear; but it seemed only one of them refused to forgive.

"What about Rude?"

She was silent for a few moments.

"I joined AVALANCHE because I was convinced Shinra was destroying the Planet and had to be stopped. That belief never changed. There was no future for us."

"That was then. What about now? Shinra's reactors are down. The company has no power anymore."

My words sounded desperate in my own ears. Which of us was I trying to convince?

"As long as the scars they left on the Planet remain, my decision stands."

Chelsea's voice was firm and her face hard. It seemed harsh, sacrificing love and a possible future for high-minded ideals, but who was I to argue? I didn't trust Shinra any more now than I had back when I was their prisoner, and here I was sleeping with the enemy. What did that say about my ideals? Maybe she had the right idea, and maybe I was just a clingy fool.

"Once a Turk, always a Turk. We should both remember that."

With that final warning, Chelsea turned and left. I watched her walk up the path, her shoulders hunched and her arms tight over her chest, while my mind processed our conversation. If it hadn't been the woman herself revealing her past to me, I wouldn't have believed a word of it. From what I had seen during our fight with the grashtrikes, Chelsea had guts and could handle herself, but she was so forthright with her opinions. Imagining her as an undercover agent for some terrorist group was on par with the idea of Tyco as a Turk.

I paused.

Sweet, boyish Tyco... as a Turk.


A/N:

Thanks for the reviews to both guest reviewers! Wanted to respond with a few thoughts. (Is this the place to do so, or should I do it in the review section? Or just not respond at all? I'm not sure what the "right" approach is here... Let me know what you prefer, dear readers!)

Guest with the delightfully long and detailed review:

Thank you a hundred times over! I can't tell you how excited it made me to see someone had put so much thought into my stories. It's incredibly flattering and encouraging, so again, thank you!

Regarding Tess' limbo-ness and even regression, it's intentional. Her arc so far has been a study of depression, of how it can and does change core facets of one's nature. It was one thing to be in Shinra HQ and interact with mostly two people. It's another completely to face all the people of Cosmo Canyon, Kalm and Edge, and realize just how much of an outsider she is and have no one to blame but herself (in her head). In a situation like that, it's far too easy to get hung up on the differences instead of the similarities.

You know, I'd like to argue that making a decision like that is exactly why someone would end up wallowing in pointless drama; basically clinging to anything less consequential just to get away from having to face the real horror of what she did. One can make the decision to end a world, but it takes a sociopath not to be deeply affected by the consequences. Throw in oodles of guilt, psychological trauma and perhaps a bit of subconscious – and, yes, unfair – resentment toward Reno et al. for being the reason she made the choice she did... Well, that's a lot of hard issues to deal with, and they're bound to affect relationships. Especially close ones.

As for knowing Reno: from her perspective she thought she did, and then he went behind her back for Shinra. The last time that happened to her, it was her fiancé selling her and her team out to Orca. She thought she knew him, too. Any wonder she fears the parallels there? It doesn't help that the Shinra dynamics she knew have changed, and Reno and Reeve are now on different teams.

But, it might please you to hear that this part of her arc is coming to a head. This chapter has already shown her how wrong some of her assumptions are, and the next few will continue to do so until she pulls her head out of the sand.

In no way am I trying to explain away your comments, quite the contrary. If a story lags, that's obviously a legitimate problem that I will have to keep in mind in the future. I'm going into detail here in the hopes that this might be food for thought to keep the discussion going with any and all readers of this story. (That, and I get carried away when it comes to characterization talk. X) Seriously, I adore feedback and concrit, so keep it coming!

Oh, and your list of suggestions? When my beta (who has read the first draft of the story) saw it, his suggested response was "just you wait." ;) There were some new ones that hadn't occurred to me at all, too, so thanks for those! Always good to hear what readers would like to see.