A/N: Action time - Let's fight!
Chapter 15: Shot in the Dark
No light illuminated the room. The thin line of light from the outside had just been closed off by a man who didn't belong. The darkness covered the thin body of a teenage girl. A 58 year old man held no place in a teenage girl's bedroom.
But, nonetheless, Vincent Valentine was there, in spite of the lack of light. A man with his physical enhancements didn't need light, and a girl trying to get some much needed sleep would only be hurt by it. So the shade had been drawn, the lamps turned off, and the door closed.
In his good hand, Vincent held a glass filled with a mostly see-through liquid that was slightly tinted green. He hoped the odd looking drink would be the key to recovery for the girl in front of him.
Despite his lack of fondness for artificial lighting, or any lighting at that, one of Vincent's metallic talons flicked on a bedside lamp. If Yuffie were to awaken to a room with nothing in it besides darkness and two red glowing eyes, she would surely be frightened.
The new light lit up Yuffie young face. The sickness had left her quite nauseated. When she was awake enough in the past two days to eat, she had refused, convinced it would come right back up. This showed through in the paleness of her skin. Only a few hours ago, after the others had left for Junon, did Vincent first get her to drink a bit of water.
He hoped he could get her to drink again as he dipped his finger into the glass of tonic. He gently let the liquid drip from his fingers to her cracked, parched lips. The sensation brought her attention back to the wakeful world, but perhaps too quickly.
Once they opened, Yuffie's eyes were wide with fear. They searched the room, darting back and forth, searching the room for... something. Her lips parted to emit a scream, but nothing came out. Then, crimson eyes brought her back to reality.
Her raspy voice squeezed out through a dangerously dry throat. "Oh... Vincent... thank god..."
She was thankfully cut off by the stern voice Vincent emitted. "Quiet." He pushed the rim of the glass in his hand against her lips. "Drink."
Yuffie immediately obeyed, and wisely so. Vincent had tried to get her to drink the medicinal drink he had whipped up numerous times today, each instance met by stubborn refusal. He was not amused by it.
Despite the sour face Yuffie made as she drank, Vincent kept one unmoving finger underneath the glass, preventing her from pulling it away from her face. It had taken him this long to even get her to take a sip - he would not let her stop now.
Once the glass was emptied, Yuffie pulled it away and let out a sound of disgust. "Ewww... what is that crap?"
"It will help." He assumed it would be best not to tell her what exactly the concoction was. A young girl like Yuffie wouldn't react well to being tricked into drinking chocobo food.
Yuffie sniffed the rim of the glass. "It smells like something out of a pet store."
If Vincent Valentine was the kind of person who laughed, he would've. This girl was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. But, despite that victory in Yuffie's battle for maturity, she followed it with a loss - giving in to her talkative nature.
"Man, those hallucinations are a doozy Vinnie. I dunno how Cloud put up with it for as long as he did. Then again, I guess it wasn't really his choice, was it? No, I guess not. Anyway, whenever I go to sleep, there's always this green stuff and people yelling at me. It's scary. I'm glad you here, Vinnie..."
As her mouth kept strong, Vincent's attention grew weak. He managed to adjust to many of Yuffie's quirks, and his way of adjusting to the over-use of her voice was to "zone out" as some liked to call it.
The setting sun sent 8 long shadows down the nearest Junon street. 8 long shadows didn't add up to the long day the 8 figures casting them had. Joe didn't prove to be a very cooperative hostage. Apparently, he was quite friendly with a few local Junon thugs. Unfortunately, a few thugs didn't add up very well to 6 AVALANCHE members and a Turk.
"That's it! I'm sick of this shit!" Reno had managed to keep relatively silent for most of the day, so he made sure his one outburst was memorable - he followed it up by lifting their prisoner off of his feet and pressing his back against the nearest building.
"Reno, put him d - "
"Fuck off, you spikey-headed freak. I went along for your bullshit shot in the dark plan, and it isn't working. We've been doing this your way all day long and we're still wandering around aimlessly. Let a pro-fucking-fessional handle this." Reno's head slowly turned to let him look straight into Joe's eyes. Anger flared in every feature of his face. His eyebrow gave an angry twitch every so often.
The tension in the air made the few seconds Reno stared into Joe seem like hours. Then, the Electro Mag rod that no one noticed Reno remove from inside his jacket sparked into activity dangerously close to Joe's face. This drained the anger from the Turk's face and replaced his harsh grimace with a smug smirk. Let the interrogation begin.
After quickly flicking off it's power, the hard steel of Reno's weapon found it's way across Joe's face. "I think it's time to talk now, don't you?" A moment of silence sent Reno back into action.
"You little fuck!" A hard blow to Joe's cranium was quickly followed by the low electric hum of Reno igniting the power of his favorite toy. "Listen. If you don't talk, there's no use to you. Turks always make sure to dispose of useless things. Do we understand each other?"
A few pants later, Reno got his response: harsh, maniacal laughter. "You little punk. You won't do a damn thing. You can't do a damn thing!" That definitely wasn't the answer he had hoped for.
Reno made his displeasure known to his victim by sending somewhere between 75 and 100 volts of raw electricity through his groin. "I don't know if you heard me or not, but I asked if we understood each other. So, do we?"
Joe searched for the words he could use to respond to Reno's violence, but after finding them, he realized he would never be able to utter them through the fast gasps of air his body had naturally begun to take in. Instead, he found an action to suit his mood.
Reno never enjoyed getting spit upon. Although the foul stench of charred pubic hair had already began repulsing him, no Turk would let such an act go unpunished. A fist thrust into a throat, a rod jabbed into a sternum [1], 300 volts of electricity began to fuse the bones of a rib cage together. Joe's screams of pure agony made it hard for Reno to here Tifa's screaming in the background.
"Reno, look out!"
The Electro Mag rod left Joe's poor body and Reno turned his head around to give Tifa a confused look, but it was too late. He hadn't heard the blast, but the bullet was already in the air. His confusion was cleared up as he recognized the sharp pain of lead tearing mercilessly through the muscle of his left forearm. The gunman managed to hit him in the arm that had rendered Joe immobile.
"Reno!" Tifa's dash to Reno's falling body was cut short by a boot planted strategically into her left shoulder. Sure, a shot to the throat would've done more harm, but it was just so fun to see her go spinning through the air like that.
Tifa landed hard on her back, staring straight into her assailant's face. Her long ebony hair flowed in the slight breeze that passed through the streets of Junon. One beautiful brown left eye was counter acted be a metallic orb in the woman's right eye socket. Tifa assumed the scar that ran through where her eye would be was the culprit.
A quick smile was Tifa's assailant's only good bye. The slender figure of a woman dressed in all black dashed towards her next target: Cloud Strife. Unfortunately for her, he was much more prepared that Tifa.
With the Ultima Weapon ready and glowing with power, Cloud launched himself into the air and landed straight upon their attacker. Or, rather, where their attacker was a split second before. That's impossible!
Luckily for Cloud, Reno had recovered his sense and was waiting behind the dark-clad female. This time, he wasn't playing around like he was with Joe: his weapon was set to kill. The small tongs that provided the "kick" in Reno's Electro Mag rod found their way in between the woman's shoulder blades. A sharp shrill cry let Reno know his attack hurt. A leg kicking backwards, making dead on contact with his groin, let Reno know it didn't phase her too terribly.
But, once again, the safety in numbers was on AVALANCHE's side. The bladed end of the Venus Gospel pressed itself unto the tender skin covering the woman's throat. Cid spoke through clenched "Better watch yourself." And thus, their battle begun. A blow to the woman's head - evaded quickly through a simple duck. A fist darting towards Cid's abdomen blocked by an upwards shooting knee. A lance to the face - blocked by a forearm. Kick to the side, blocked by the Venus's shaft. Every blow dealt by one was parried by the other. It was quite a sight.
"Ash! Get off your ass and help me!"
A medium height, muscular man came into view and to Joe's aid. He looked down and examined the condition of his ally as he re-holstered the gun that had handicapped Reno. "Got a knife on ya?"
"No. Does it look like I have a fucking knife on me!?"
The well built man simply shrugged. "Neither do I. Guess you'll be staying put for a bit." He silently walked off as the former Chocobo Jockey threw curses at his back, but he couldn't hear them. His eyes were locked on Tifa Lockheart.
Tifa rolled to her uninjured side while wondering how such a small woman could cause so much physical pain. But, as she stood, she was forced to wonder something a bit different: who was this mean looking fellow walking towards her?
Instead of stopping to ask, she took the initiative. She sent her left fist en route to the man's face. A large, muscular hand easily caught the attack and held her in place - something she hoped he would do. Pulling up on the man's arm for leverage, Tifa arched her back into a summersault. Two feet, one right after the other, made two loud cracking sounds as they made contact under the man's lower jaw.
Ash stumbled, but did not fall. His fingers went up to touch his lips and came down bloody - she had caused him to bite straight through his own lip. "Nice to meet you, too..."
Ash had an interesting way of saying hello; he charged at Tifa full speed, throwing his right fist into the air. She brushed off the blow with her arm just in time to see his other fist coming straight for her. A step back evaded that blow, but the man just kept coming. Another shot from his right was blocked in the same manner as the first. Another throw from the left, chopped away with Tifa's left. The right fist flew again - blocked by Tifa's right arm. The next blow from the left, blocked with Tifa's left.
Tifa Lockheart had been so intent on blocking her assailants next move that she didn't even notice that he hadn't removed his right hand from hers, but rather clutched it tightly. After doing the same with the left, his leg gave out underneath him. He rolled to his side and took Tifa with him. Soon she found herself quite a distance from the fight with a growing pain in her back.
Ash barely had time to admire his handy work before a low growl piqued his curiosity. He instantly regretted turning around when he caught his first glimpse of Nanaki's bright red fur. "Oh shit..."
Barret was on his way to help out Cid and Cloud, but was distracted by the gunfire being hailed at his back. Junon had served as home to all of Shinra's now unemployed SOLDIERs. First class and some second class SOLDIERs had all been able to earn livings by renting them selves out as mercinaries, but who would want to pay for a 3rd class?
He aimed his massive gun arm at what seemed to be the leader of the group (or at least the guy standing in front). "Look, punks, I dun want ta 'urt ya, but I will." God, please let them back down. I don't want to be a killer anymore. I don't want to be a killer...
Unfortunately, SOLDIER 3rd class men had a hard time listening (probably because of those stupid helmets). The "leader" was the first to fire and subsequently the first to fall. Three holes compliments of the Missing Score poured out the red liquid of life profusely. The rest of the group froze for a second to gawk at their fallen leader, and Barret made sure to take advantage of the situation.
He ran in close range to the group. Towering over even the tallest attacker, he took his changes going hand (singular) to hand (plural). His good fist flew into the stomach of one as his metallic gun-arm came down in a tomahawk fashion to finish the job. From the lack of blood, Barret assumed (and hoped) that the man was passed out rather than deceased.
The remaining three SOLDIERs retreaded some bit and then opened up the ammunition flood gates. Barret could be surprisingly athletic when the situation called for it. With a quick dive to his right, the large beast of a man found himself covered by the corner of a building. It seemed to be the perfect spot for a gunfight.
[1] The sternum is in the center of the chest, for those who don't know.
A/N: Once again, these chapters are taking on a life of their own. I wanted to get the whole thing done in no more than 2000 words. I'm already over that mark and I'm only about half way done. So I'll cut things off here. Read the next chapter to find what perils await Yuffie and Vincent (aren't I cheesy?). Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Please review this one too.