A/N: Rated M for language.

Chapter 18:

Tifa was no stranger to bar fights. In fact, she had to break up several each week in her own establishment. The combination of alcohol, daily tensions, and heated conversation often resulted in two or more patrons engaging in violent behavior.

The brawls were much easier to deal with when Cloud was around. While Tifa could take out anyone threatening to fight in her business, all Cloud had to do was tap the tip of his sword on the floor in sight of the stewing customers and the disagreement would come to a halt. Just the threat of facing the Ultima Weapon would strike fear in the patrons, causing them to retreat, often with quick apologies.

Tifa's weapons, being her fists, weren't so easy to grab attention without an actual blow. Having dealt with multiple fights, however, her customers knew that if she started toward them with her fists raised, it was time to calm down. Occasionally the fight would be in the early stages, with the participants circling each other over toppled chairs. If the cheers from the witnesses weren't too loud, Tifa could stop the fight with the sound of creaking leather as she pulled on her gloves. She loved when that happened, but the circumstances had to be right.

Rarely, Tifa actually had to use brute force to stop a ruckus, though she tried to avoid that at all costs. Beating up paying customers shouldn't be good for business, but she had always received applause from those watching when she leveled someone who had gotten testy.

Then there was the fact that she was a famous martial artist. While she had needed to subdue customers before, none had ever attacked her. They came to her bar to drink and look at a beautiful, famous woman. They neither wanted to harm her beauty nor take her on in a fight. She had already proven to many now-bruised egos that she couldn't be taken down by anyone. She had fought Sephiroth himself. No construction worker or coal miner or even professional fighter could compare to that.

Because of the nature of the fights and their timing, she never really had to worry about weapons being used. Sure, sometimes a patron would smash a glass and try to use a broken shard against their opponent, but no one dared to bring weapons into her bar.

Until tonight.

It started innocent enough, two customers engrossed in a heated political decision while drinking hard liquor. One man, a large, burly man who may have been even brawnier than Barret (without the gun arm, of course) seemed to be getting angry fast. The other man, a short, stout individual with thinning hair, was matching the larger man's energy.

Tifa couldn't help but overhear the argument once it reached the volume that caused other patrons to stop what they were doing and glare. The two were hashing out whether coal and oil were any better than Mako as an energy source. At some point, both sides seemed to forget what their original positions were and took to outright personal insults toward the other.

Once the larger man stood up from his chair, causing it to fall backward, and shoved the table hard enough to move it several feet so that he could get closer to his adversary, Tifa decided it was time to step in and stop the altercation before it went any further.

"Excuse me," she said as politely as possible while still imposing a sense of authority. The two men continued to stare angrily at each other without acknowledging her presence. "I think it's time you two left."

That sent the two men into a rage, the likes of which Tifa had not seen in this bar or the one in Sector 7.

The larger man started shouting obscenities and pulled out a machine gun – one that resembled those used by former Shinra military police. Though it typically required two hands to operate (one to pull the trigger and another to hold steady) the man brandishing it appeared to have the strength to hold it up with just one hand as he pointed it at the stout man.

The smaller man retaliated by pulling out his own firearm, a 9mm, and aimed it right back at his discussion partner.

Tifa took a step back from the two men. She slowly reached down into her pocket, keeping her movements low and steady to hopefully stay out of their peripheral vision. The men were locked onto each other, neither moving or saying anything. The other customers had abandoned their tables and backed against the wall when the men first stood up. They were now frozen in place, some holding their hands up to beg for their lives.

The room was uncomfortably quiet. The other patrons didn't even appear to be breathing, so afraid of what may happen.

Tifa removed her Premium Heart gloves out of her pocket, sliding the weapon over the leather of her skirt and then stretched them down along with her arms to squeeze her right hand into one glove. She took extra time to pull the edge of the glove back over her wrist to secure it to her hand before taking the other one and doing the same with her left hand.

She then bent her elbows to begin raising her fists. Once her fists were in line with her waist, she raised her elbows so that her hands were in a defensive position in front of her face. She also placed her right foot back a step to allow better footing.

She had practically been moving in slow motion as everything around her was stopped, as if they were all in a movie scene.

"I said," Tifa finally broke the silence, "I think you should leave."

She bent her knees and readied herself for battle. Upon hearing her words, both men pointed their guns directly at her face. Then, realizing the other was open, they turned their weapons on each other. They changed their targets multiple times, now unable to decide whether they should shoot each other or the bartender who had challenged them.

It was at that moment the door to the bar was opened, the familiar chime of the bells ringing overhead. Neither Tifa nor the men with guns had time to register that someone new had entered the establishment before they were surrounded, as if the people who had entered had teleported from the door to where the fight was about to begin.

Tifa blinked and saw Rude standing in front of her, on the other side of the men. He, too, had his fists up and staggered in front of his face, prepared to assist her in the fight – or assist the other men, one still couldn't be sure about those Turks. Also in Tifa's line of sight was Elena, who stood to Rude's right and had the end of her pistol just millimeters away from the smaller man's face.

Tifa instantly felt calmer seeing her former adversaries in front of her as backup.

"Move one inch and I'll send you into the afterlife," Tifa heard a familiar, missed, and cocky voice from behind the larger of the two men.

She couldn't see him, but Reno had his mag rod pressed against the man's cervical vertebrae, right at the base of his skull.

What happened next truly did move in slow motion for those involved.

Tifa had one gun pointed at her face (the large man's). She used the slight apprehension he exhibited when Reno spoke to swat his gun away from her with the back of her right hand. He didn't drop it but was now pointing toward the back area of the bar, near the entrance to the storage room, and away from any other patrons.

In the instant it took the man's face to contort into one of shock – his mouth opened, his eyebrows lifted, and his eyes widened – Tifa spun to her right, lifting that same leg behind her and bending her knee so that when she twisted back around her heel would connect with the large man's face. As her foot hit, the skin of the man's cheek rippled across the rest of his features, causing his lips and nose to gravitate to the left, almost to the point of ending up on the side of his face. A bicuspid dislodged from his mouth, twirling in the air like an asteroid floating through space as it passed underneath his front teeth, arching down toward the floor until it was lower than the countertop, lower than the seats of the stools, lower than the footrest of the stools, and finally hitting the floor with a clicking sound before bouncing once and landing again with a similar sound. Finally, it slid a few inches to its resting place near another customer's boot.

The large man's eyes rolled back into his head as blood and sweat evacuated his head due to Tifa's blow, joining their toothy brethren on the floor near the other patrons.

As the large man was reacting to what would cause him to black out and crumple to the floor (only to wake up later in the hospital with the worst headache of his life), the smaller man's lips formed a circle in order to say something. Perhaps the other man's name in a suddenly concerned kind of way.

In his surprise, the stout man stopped aiming his gun at the larger man and instead started shaking both his arms in a frightened and confused manner. He was still holding the gun, and it wavered back and forth through the air, sometimes pointing up, sometimes pointing down, and passing the middle of an arch in between.

Tifa's foot landed in perfect formation after she completed her full turn and dealt the large man a devastating kick. As she landed gracefully, as if in a choreographed dance, the large man's head was nearing the floor. His left hip hit the wood first, then his elbow, then his shoulder. He was lifted off the ground by his own momentum for mere centimeters before landing once again. This time, his head hit the floor as well, but his eyes were already closed and unconscious before Tifa's foot had even fully passed the width of his shoulders. When unconsciousness hit, his fingers went limp and his firearm fell from them, following a similar course as the tooth. The gun finally landed next to the large man's shoes, wobbling for a second before settling just as Tifa's foot planted on the floor nearby.

It all happened so fast that Reno barely had time to step back to avoid being brought down with the large man as well. All he managed to do in the time Tifa took the man out was to twist slightly, his mag rod still positioned as though he were about to attack someone. Rude's eyes were trained on the stout man as this all occurred, assessing the situation to see if this man decided to put his gun down instead of attack after seeing what had just happened to his friend (they had been in the bar previously and seemed pretty chummy). Elena still held her gun to the stout man's head but shifted her eyes and then the rest of her face to look to the left and watch the big man collapse.

Tifa's next charted attack was to disarm the stout man. She really hadn't needed the Turks to interfere, but they had been enough of a distraction to be helpful, so she was certainly grateful.

There are moments in time that latch onto a person's memory to be relived over and over again. Moments one reimagines in the hopes they can figure out what they could have done differently to change the situation and then spend an even greater amount of time punishing themselves for not taking a different course of action in the first place. Sometimes only one person experiencing an event comes away with such a moment engraved into their psyche. It can be due to one's feelings about the other people involved or even one's own view of oneself and how they should act in certain situations.

Reno was about to have one of those moments, and though it would embarrass him to the end of his days, it was created for both of the reasons listed above.

The stout man now had his free hand on his forehead and was obviously in crisis over his friend on the floor. As he brandished his own weapon about subconsciously, haphazardly around the room, he accidentally squeezed the trigger. It didn't even register to him at first, as the bullet corkscrewed through the air in the blink of an eye, heading toward – and then through – its target. The gun had been angled somewhat down when the shot was fired.

Elena's gun fired in return, sending bitter jealousy through Reno and Rude's spines as they wished they had been the ones to take the man down.

Reno had remained where he had been all along but was pointing his EMR at the stout man when the gun went off. Rude was lunging forward to grab the man when Elena's gun went off, causing an explosion of blood to fly back toward the Turks and the patrons who were still crouched down and trying to escape along the wall and out the front door. The fight had been over once the guns had been pulled out. Elena's face was covered in blood. Rude did not escape the splatter but was still reaching toward the man and not in a position to stop.

The focus of the other two Turks gave Reno the opportunity to witness what would become one of those "moments." He was a few feet back from the stout man when his gun fired. At the edge of his vision, Reno saw where the bullet traveled. Even as everything moved slowly around him, he did not see the bullet specifically, but he saw its consequences.

Tifa's abdomen, a little to the left of her belly button and beneath her kidney, dimpled suddenly. Blood spurted out instantly as if it had been waiting for a chance to escape. After the initial release, blood merely seeped out of the wound as Tifa started to move backward toward the ground. Her knees were beginning to buckle when her right hand reached up to inspect what initially felt like she was stabbed – or possibly electrocuted. She was moving backward, and as her hand made contact with her wound, her other hand reached out as she stumbled into the barstools at the counter. Her backside finally reached the floor; a couple of the stools moved slightly but did not fall. Tifa leaned back against the base of the bar, her left hand still outstretched on top of a stool. She could now feel something wet on her fingers and started to look down.

All at once, things sped back up to normal. Rude and Reno practically raced each other to get to Tifa's form sitting on the ground. The other patrons successfully evacuated. Rude had to jump over the stout man to get to Tifa at the same time as Reno, one on each side of her. Elena reholstered her gun and walked over to crouch in front of the brunette on the floor.

Reno was tugging at Tifa's right arm to get her to lift her hand so he could see where the bullet entered. Rude was waiting for her to move her hand at Reno's coaxing so that he could inspect the wound. Elena put a hand on one of Tifa's legs, which were bent in front of her.

"Are you okay?" Elena asked reflexively.

Tifa actually didn't seem that concerned with what was happening.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, not completely sure why she was surrounded by Turks at the moment.

"Let me see," Rude said.

"Lie down," Elena commanded.

Tifa hesitated a moment and looked at each of them before begrudgingly obliging. Now Reno simply lifted her arm so that she would move her hand. Rude had the better view.

"It was a through-and-through," Rude said, with just the faintest hint of concern. To those who knew him, he was downright despondent in his tone.

"Guys, it's nothing," Tifa insisted. "I'm fine. I have gotten worse injuries."

It quite literally took every ounce of Reno's concentration to hold back a snarky comment about how he had seen her scar from one of those particular injuries. It was so physically and mentally difficult for him to hold his tongue that his left eye started twitching uncontrollably. Better a twitch than give himself away, especially right now.

"We should take her to the hospital," Elena suggested, looking over at Rude, who nodded.

"No, come on," Tifa said. "Can't you just stitch me up like last time?"

Her head half turned, half fell under its own weight toward Reno as she spoke. He couldn't help but smile at the notion that she would rather let him touch her now than go to the hospital. What difference a couple weeks, some flirting, and a mag rod made.

"We could, but you'd still need to get it looked at," Elena said. "It'll be better if we just take you there now."

Tifa closed her eyes. This was not how she planned this day ending. She had woken up with the determination to move forward with her life and to move on from Cloud and Reno. Now Reno was sitting right next to her with a – was that a look of genuine concern? Nah.

And then she looked down at herself. Rude was pressing the wound to try to control the bleeding, so she couldn't really see it. But she certainly now felt it. She'd been shot before, but those Shinra police didn't have great aim, so she was usually just grazed. She hadn't been shot straight through before. She groaned. This was all just so inconvenient.

"Fine, let's get it over with," she said.

She tried to start standing up but the Turks wouldn't let her.

"Just stay still," Elena said. "I'm calling an ambulance."

Tifa groaned again.

"Ack," she coughed. "I can get myself there."

"Yeah, okay tough guy," Reno teased. "You just chill here. You'll be back to kicking patrons and taking bullets in no time."

Breathing hurt. Tifa couldn't remember the last time she had been injured to that point. It wasn't like the bullet was anywhere near her heart or lungs, it's just that the skin around it stretched when she tried to breath. Her heart was beating kind of fast – for several reasons – and when she tried to concentrate on slowing it down she ended up taking deeper breaths, which hurt the wound.

Aside from the pain, she was just plain embarrassed. She should have taken down the other man as soon as she finished with the larger man. She should have gotten out of the way of the gun. Now she was being treated like a child by the Turks. Because of this stupid, non-life-threatening injury.

Before Reno was able to clearly tell what had happened, a thousand possibilities went through his head. When he first noticed Tifa was hit he imagined her collapsing and never getting back up. He ran to her but kept himself from cradling her in his arms like someone in some tragic movie. She wasn't that hurt – even if gunshot wounds hurt like a motherfucker – so there really was no reason for him to get so worked up.

Yeah, he wished he had stopped her from getting hurt, wished he had just electrocuted the big man instead of giving him a chance to give up. If he had, Tifa could have focused on the stout man and avoided injury. He wished he had taken the bullet for her.

Wait, what?

Why was he thinking about all these things? Okay, if she died, he wouldn't be able to bed her, and that would be a huge bummer for him, but that wasn't the only reason for his concern, was it?

Thankfully the ambulance arrived to take his attention – oh, and Tifa. She tried to keep the paramedics from putting her on a stretcher, insisting she just needed to "walk it off," but they insisted. She tried to tell them to just help her stand up and then she could sit on one of the benches in the ambulance. No dice. The paramedics also wouldn't patch her up and let her get herself to the hospital.

Finally, she relented and looked positively bothered to be forced to ride in the ambulance on the stretcher. She tried to cross her arms to pout, but she couldn't even do that as the paramedics were tending to her wound.

"You'll come, right?" she asked in a hazy fog.

Her question didn't seem directed toward anyone in particular, as she wasn't looking at any single Turk when she said it. Elena wasn't even sure if Tifa had meant to say that.

"Sure, we'll see you soon," Elena said in a comforting voice.

Whether Tifa really wanted them there or not, Elena's motherly instincts had taken control. No, she didn't care for Tifa too much, but when she saw someone injured – and it wasn't someone she was killing – she instantly went into "care" mode.

The Turks watched the ambulance drive down the road and headed back to Rude's home to get his car. He coincidentally – seriously! – lived the closest to Seventh Heaven. He walked the full distance to work since Reno kept his car at the office in case of any work-related trips.

The hospital in Edge was pretty nice, considering how young the city was. It had actually been one of the first structures built, for obvious reasons.

The Turks sat in the emergency room waiting for news. None of them really wanted to be there. Not because of anything related to Tifa, but because it was so damn boring and ordinary to be waiting. Plus, they weren't her family, so the medical staff wasn't that accommodating and wouldn't provide much information. After some time, a doctor came out to tell them Tifa was being taken to surgery to repair the damage to her intestines and to close the wounds.

"This could take hours," Elena complained. "Are you two gonna stick around?"

She asked the question, knowing full well what the answer would be from each of them.

Rude nodded. Reno looked at Rude and then back at Elena.

"Yup," he said.

Elena was actually a little surprised that Reno decided to stay. His actions toward Tifa over the past week no longer made sense. He ignored her for days and now he's going to sit around hours waiting for her? Elena didn't feel like asking questions.

"Fine, guess I'll stay too," she huffed, sitting back down and crossing her arms.

Rude lowered his head and crossed his arms, suddenly finding himself exhausted. Reno checked his phone.

"1 text message from Shotgun."

"Delivered! Let me know when you want to meet up again ;)"

He closed his phone without responding. A few months ago he would have smiled to himself. He wasn't above sleeping with a woman a second time, but it was pretty clear why she sent the text. No challenge, no thank you.

Reno rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his head on his hand. To him, it felt like he had no sooner closed his eyes than he was being awakened by a doctor.

"Were you the three here for Tifa Lockhart?" the doctor asked.

The Turks slowly lifted their heads to listen.

"She's out of surgery. She's fine. You can go see her now," the doctor said.

Still bleary, the Turks started to stand up and follow the doctor back to Tifa's room.

"Sup killer?" Reno asked as he entered the room, his hands in his pockets and his back slouched.

Tifa seemed tired, but no worse for the wear. She stifled a smile at Reno's comment, realizing that she was happy the Turks were coming to visit and that she wasn't so alone. She also, despite her determination otherwise, was happy to see Reno specifically.

"How are you feeling?" Elena asked in a more caring tone.

Tifa tried to sit up more but winced. She was in a hospital gown but could now feel her abdomen was wrapped in bandages.

"I'm fine," she said wearily. "I'd really like to home. Can you get me out of here?"

"Sorry, they're going to keep you overnight for observation but you might be able to go home tomorrow," Elena said.

"Aren't you Turks?" Tifa asked. "Can't you sneak me out of here?"

Rude crossed his arms and let out a little smirk. Tifa looked up at him with pleading eyes. Was he the weakest link? Questionable. He liked her, but that might actually work against her as he might want to make absolute sure she was okay. Elena always struck Tifa as a by-the-book kind of woman, and probably wouldn't be open to flouting hospital rules.

And then there was Reno. He was definitely a rule breaker, but where had he been the past week? He might decline to help her just to be an ass. He was a loose cannon. He was her best chance.

"You should just stay here," Elena suggested.

Tifa huffed.

"I need to get back to the bar," she said, though she knew it wouldn't be convincing.

"And do what? We locked it before we left," Elena replied.

Tifa was hoping they hadn't so she could make the argument about urgency.

"I don't want to be in here," she pouted.

"Then you shouldn't have gotten shot, yo," Reno offered, though the words stung him as well.

Tifa gave him a knowing glance. She didn't feel any pain. She wanted to go home. She didn't have time to be sitting in a hospital with such a wimpy wound – at least in her eyes.

Barret and Marlene were coming tomorrow. She needed to clean up the bar. She needed to do any number of things that would be put off while waiting to get out of this place. She felt lonely home alone, she felt even lonelier here even though she would be surrounded by strangers.

"Is there anything else you'd like us to do for you?" Elena asked.

Tifa shook her head.

"It's late, I guess I'll just try to sleep," she said, defeated.

"Okay, we'll come back in the morning to help, if you want," Elena offered.

"Sure."

"And if they take too long to release you, we'll kick their asses," Reno said confidently, jabbing his thumb into his chest.

Tifa smiled. It quickly faded as she watched the Turks leave the room. The crushing loneliness set in as she found herself alone in a sterile gray room in an unfamiliar place. She wanted to lay on her side and curl up like she did when she wanted to pretend to shut out the world, but moving made her side ache, even with the pain medication she was on. At least she was exhausted enough to fall asleep in the position she was currently lying.

Later…

There were no windows in Tifa's room to tell her know it was morning, but it didn't matter anyway. She was woken up by a nurse to have her bandages changed. She was luckily in a private room, wearing just panties under her hospital gown, which needed to be lifted up for the nurse to gain access to the wound. Tifa found the whole ordeal profoundly uncomfortable. She was used to dressing her own wounds, or having Aeris, Jessie, or Yuffie do it. She didn't like letting strangers touch her. She still wished she had never let Reno stitch her up all those weeks ago. She never would have "cheated" on Cloud – again, she wasn't sure if it was cheating, but she felt just as guilty – and she wouldn't be having so many competing, not to mention annoying, feelings trapped in her head.

"Can I go home now?" she asked the nurse.

"You should be able to go home soon," the nurse said.

The nurse finished dressing the wound and fixing Tifa's gown. She was just leaving the room when the three Turks arrived. Tifa didn't want to admit it, but she was really glad to see them.

"So, they said you could go home soon," Elena mentioned as she walked to the foot of Tifa's hospital bed.

"Yeah, but who knows when that will be," Tifa responded.

"Have you seen it?" Reno asked.

"The wound? I saw it a little a few minutes ago when the nurse cleaned it and changed the bandages. It's not serious."

"You were shot," Rude said. He didn't say it in an informative or snippy way, it was more like he really thought she wasn't taking this seriously. There was a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yes, and I'd like to go home now, please."

The Turks didn't exactly want to wait around for several more hours waiting for Tifa to be released. They were here shirking their responsibilities to patrol the streets, something else they didn't particularly want to do.

"Ok, Miss Lockhart," a doctor said as he entered the room and looked at her chart. "You're getting discharged. Here's a list of instructions to care for your wound."

He sat with her for a few minutes to go over what she needed to do. No strenuous exercise (Tifa swore she heard Reno snort). Change bandages regularly. Etc., etc. Tifa knew the drill. She nodded along politely, antsy to leave.

"Okay, that's it, good luck," the doctor said before getting up and leaving.

A nurse came in shortly after and placed Tifa's clothes on her bed, then ushered the Turks out of the room. Reno again had to resist the urge to put up a fight.

Nothing sexual. Had to be a decent guy. Well, at least outwardly. Inside he immediately remembered what she looked like topless.

Tifa walked a little stiff as she rejoined the Turks outside her room.

Rude helped her into the backseat of Elena's car. Reno took the front passenger's seat. There wasn't anything he could do publicly to continue his plan, so he opted for looking disinterested. He also allowed Tifa to lean on Rude as she walked from the car and into her bar, but he wasn't going to leave Rude alone with her. Reno was about to see her home for the first time. He couldn't exactly enjoy it (he'd prefer to be ravishing her instead of studying her furniture) but he was in her territory, nonetheless.

He ran up the stairs ahead of Rude and offered cliched words of encouragement to her, moving his hands to motion her forward, like she was a child taking her first steps. Tifa did not appreciate it.

The effort had made her tired along with the restless night in the hospital and the whole ordeal in general, so the Turks helped her into her bedroom.

Reno was behind Tifa and Rude in the hallway when he heard Tifa gasp.

"What?" she said in surprise.

"Shit, bad timing," Reno thought to himself.

He had forgot about Shotgun's delivery. He had thought she would leave the item on the front porch or on top of the dumpsters out back (like he told her), but there they were, right on Tifa's bed. The gift both delighted and frightened her. Someone had clearly broken into her home to leave them, something she just now considered.

Elena was on the same page and readied her gun. She then inspected the other rooms in the hall in case the intruder was still inside. There was no one. No windows opened and nothing else disturbed.

Shotgun did a damn fine job, Reno observed.

Rude helped Tifa sit on her bed. She reached over to pick up some white flowers wrapped in white paper. They were rare flowers that could only be found around Mt. Nibel. They were her absolute favorite.

No card or tag. Nothing to indicate who they were from.

Her heart skipped a beat. Cloud definitely knew these were her favorite flowers. Her hope faded as she quickly realized surprises like this weren't Cloud's style. He would have been there to deliver the flowers, or he would have left evidence of his visit. He was an excellent fighter, but stealth wasn't his forte.

Stealth.

Tifa took a sniff of the flowers and glanced over at Reno. He looked exactly as he did that night outside her bar in the rain, when he wasn't reacting to her quip about him waiting in the rain for her. He was really good at acting like he didn't care. But Tifa now knew that was his reflex response when faced with anything that could be emotional.

It had to be him, but how did he know? And how did he get them? She hadn't told him she liked these flowers – but he did know she was from Nibelheim. But so did a lot of other people!

She was too tired for this right now. She slowly scooted back on her bed up toward her headboard so she could lie down properly.

She wasn't even able to say goodbye to the Turks before she was passed out.

Barret and Marlene would be here in a few hours.

Elena took the flowers from Tifa's arms – she fell asleep hugging them – and walked into the kitchen to find a vase. She returned the flowers to Tifa's nightstand before encouraging Reno and Rude to leave with her.

Rude had this sinking suspicion now. He didn't see Cloud as the "anonymous flowers" type of guy, and he could only think of one other person who would be so underhanded. He didn't want to confront Reno, as it was clear his best friend couldn't have physically delivered the flowers himself. Well, he may have, after they left the hospital last night, but something told him Reno couldn't have done this. He would have had to travel to Nibelheim and back. It just didn't make sense.

Yet still, Rude strongly suspected Reno had something to do with it – and he didn't like it.

End notes: Clearly, I have never been shot, so we're all just going to have to suspend realism and assume in this world, with whatever medicine and materia hospitals have available, gunshot wounds just heal differently, okay?