Shattered Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor did I have anything to do with its creation, and all content referring to Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft/SquareEnix. Also any characters that do not appear in the original Final Fantasy VII have nothing to do with the game, and strictly appear for the purpose of this story.

She was surrounded by the consuming darkness of her room, perched upon the floor in the corner. Her eyes focused on no particular spot, as she contemplated the prices that were paid for this foolhardy mission. Her knees were drawn up, the lower half of her face hidden by their rise, her arms wrapped loosely about the shins. Time had flown by since she had entered the room, leaving her gear where it belonged – in the closet by the door. Her deep, navy blue jacket rested upon the chair, which was placed with a table near the balcony window. She had no idea how long she had been sitting here in this huddled position, nor did she know what had caused to her be here in the first place. All she was aware of was the deep darkness that surrounded her, the faint white haze of lights just about visible through the heavy curtains, the sounds of the local nightlife, as well as vehicles still running clearly audible, but faintly.

            She drew in a deep breath, and released it in a heavy sigh; her mind still clouded…just what had happened anyway. Her eyes focused suddenly, as the sound of the telephone ringing broke through the mists that clouded her mind. She waited for the second ring to pass, and then pushed herself up, her short, wet hair clinging to her neck and face. She looked down and saw that all she had on was a white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to the elbows, then looked back to find a towel, lying on the floor. She picked it up, and threw it about her shoulders, understanding that she had had a shower upon re-entering her home, and answered the phone, which was located on the bedside table.

            "Hello," she greeted, her voice light and welcoming, as she put on a mask for the person on the other end.

            "Hi," they replied, their tone hinting at the fatigue they felt, as if they had just woken up, or returned home after a days work. The voice sparked a memory in her mind, as she realised who this was, and was about to say something, when they continued, "mind if I come up? I feel kind of odd standing outside your apartment, looking up at your window,"

            "What do you mean?" she asked, her brow creasing into a puzzled frown as she made her way towards the balcony window, and pushed aside the curtains. She looked outside, squinting against the sudden light, and looked about, trying to find where they could be. Unable to see them from where she was, she unlocked the sliding door, and stepped out onto the balcony, the chill night air taking her by surprise. "Where are you?" she asked as she stepped up to the railing, and looked about, an arm wrapped about her midriff, in an attempt to keep her warm.

            "Look down, to your left, next to the phone booth," came the reply, and she complied, the wind blowing wisps of her damp hair into her vision. She pushed the strands back and spotted the tall form of Reno, his pony-tailed red hair blowing in the wind, as the quills of his fringe, pushed back by his sunglasses, did the same. He was standing with one hand jammed in his trouser pocket, and the other holding his cell phone. Catching sight of her, he raised the pocketed hand and waved in greeting, smiling slightly as he did so. She returned the gesture and went to the door, pressing the button beside it to grant him access to the building, and unlocking the door for his entry.

            "Come on up," she said, and hung up the phone, as she replaced it in its stand by the bed. She switched on the lights, and went to the bathroom and took out her bathrobe, and slipped into it, while placing her towel on the railing to dry. She heard the door open and close, and stepped out to greet the red-haired man, as he entered the hallway and looked up in surprise at her arrival. "Want anything to drink?" she asked casting him a quick glance, then headed off towards the kitchen. He followed after her, and stopped at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched her work. "Coffee okay?"

            "Yeah, its just what I need after the day I've had…" he commented, stretching as he let out a yawn to signify the extent of his fatigue. She glanced at him quickly and took out two mugs, and set the kettle on. She knew just how he liked his coffee, seeing as how she had started out in that area, when she had first started out as a Turk. It was the way it was, the new recruits started out with menial tasks, such as delivering papers, getting and providing refreshments, among other things, then as time went on and your reviews went well, that was when they actually considered you a Turk, and gave you the proper jobs…of course at first, you had to pass a field test, with a minor assignment, then you would carry on with them, until you were really ready for the tough ones.

"Make yourself at home, I'll be there in a while with the drinks," she said, folding her arms as she waited for the kettle to boil. He nodded, and straightened, then walked into the main room of the apartment. He looked about, and saw that everything was in order, 'Seems to be okay…but I wonder…' he thought, and made his way to the balcony, where he leaned against the railing and looked out, losing himself in his own thoughts. 'How long has it been now…since the Temple…since…we lost you…' he thought, his head bowed as though silently praying for the one he now remembered. They had left their world months ago now, leaving the three most capable along with new recruits, and very few others with enough experience, to run the business of carrying out the ShinRa tasks.

            "Never thought it'd be you man…not since I'm the one everyone thinks'll croak first, considering what I do…" he mused, raising his head and looking up into the deep blue, star-dappled sky above. He reached into his chest pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, "like this for example," he said, and pushed out a cigarette, and brought it to his lips. He then took out a lighter and lit it, then drew in a deep breath, taking in the mix of flavours, ranging from tar and ash, to nicotine. 'Damn, this stuff's bad for me…' he thought, as he kept his mind on his one-time leader. He brought the cigarette away from his lips and leaned forward, while rolling his head back as he exhaled, feeling the stresses of daily life reducing, '…but at least it gets the job done…'

~*~

She stood by the counter, gazing past the vapours of evaporating water let off by the heating kettle. She had sorted the mugs only minutes before, the amounts of coffee and sugar waiting to be mixed together with the hot water. Her arms were folded about her midriff, her mind absent from its body, then suddenly snapping to attention as the rising pitch of the boiling kettle came to an end, accompanied by the 'click' of the button switching off. She waited a moment, getting to grips with the reality she found herself in, and shook herself mentally, 'Why am I drifting off so much?' she asked herself, then finished off preparing the mugs of coffee, 'He must be wondering where I am…' she thought, then took hold of the mugs and made her way to the main room of her apartment.

            She scanned the room from where she stood at the entrance to the main room, and spotted his back just visible beyond the curtains partitioning the balcony. She made her way towards him, and cleared her throat lightly, to which he jumped with a start, then relaxed as he realised who it was and turned, as though he had not been flustered at all.

            "Your coffee," she said, and placed it on the ornately patterned, dark-green painted metal table, towards him. He smiled, and took a final inhalation of his cigarette, then put it out, throwing it down to the streets below.

            "Thanks," he said, and then took hold of his mug, "let's sit inside…the wind's not good for you right now," he suggested, noting her lightly clothed form shivering in the light breeze. She nodded and stepped aside without hesitation, and followed him into the main room. "I see everything's in order…nothing out of place," he commented, as he took a seat on the arm of the sofa, so that he could face the blond woman as she perched herself on the edge of her bed, after closing the sliding doors to the balcony and drawing the curtains.

            "What do you mean?" she asked, taking a sip of her hot beverage, savouring the feel of the warm liquid trailing through her system. He looked at her, and sighed, then took a sip of his own.

            "You know what I mean, Elena…you were the one that took it hardest…" he replied, his eyes momentarily flicking away, then returning to look upon a rather unemotional face.

            "Is that why you came…why you wanted to talk to me?" she asked, her voice coming out in a low whisper. He swallowed and shifted his weight uncomfortably, how could he explain to her that he was worried, that they were all worried, considering they knew how she felt, "If that's why you came…I suggest you leave…"

"That's not why I came…", he said, his words trailing off as she fixed him with an unconvinced gaze, "well, in part yes, but no, it's not why I came…I came to…offer you…support," he explained, the words coming out as he fought to think of what he was trying to say, 'Why is this so hard?' he thought to himself, as she continued to look at him with that same, unconvinced gaze.

            "Support? When have you ever been one to lend support?" she asked, the words coming out cold and harsh. She could hardly remember a time when he lent support to someone who needed it, hardly any of the Turks did, although Rude could be considered one, but he'd only show a tender side either when drunk, or when there was no one else about. Also, there was that other one…his name was just beyond the reach of her memory, but he was always taken advantage of and was still green in his new profession. Reno shifted uncomfortably upon his perch, then took another, longer sip of his now warm drink.

            "Elena…you're right, I don't lend support much…" he said, agreeing to her words, "I admit, it's not my thing…it's more something that Rude would do, or that new guy…but…I can't stand it, you know, I thought someone would have approached you by now…but –"

            "Why are you even bothering?! You're right, no one has talked to me yet, but it doesn't bother me, I can handle this," she snapped, and came to her feet in a sudden motion. The red-haired Turk jumped, and braced himself, as she seemingly walked towards him, and went right past him. He turned his head to watch her stop in front of the sliding doors, her mug held in one hand, while the other pushed back the curtains, "No one cared before…not even him…" she said, the words coming out in a barely audible whisper. Reno watched her back, a sharp pain forming inside him as he bit back the reigns of sympathy.

            "He knew…you know that…" he said, the words seeming to reach for any light within her, as they broke the heavy silence. He came to his feet, and set the mug down on the coffee table, "but we all knew where his heart lay…with her, even to the end," her shoulders sagged in resignation, she knew full well that she loved a man who loved another, and yet she had always watched from afar, and now…she could watch no longer. Her eyes pricked, as tears of anger and frustration threatened to come forth, 'It's not fair, why did he have to die…it was all that silver-haired freak's fault…he had done this, and now he had to pay…one day,' she thought, as her hands tightened about the mug within them, her face flushing with anger. She felt the warm, burning tears trace twin tracks down her cheeks, then suddenly was taken by surprise as arms wrapped themselves about her waist, from behind. "Please…don't let it take over you…" came the soft words, whispered in her ear; "we all lost him…he was a great man…even though I never showed it…I respected him…"

            "Sephiroth…has to pay," she hissed, her head turning away slightly from his lips, as she thought of the personal loss it had resulted for her. Reno stepped back a bit, placing his hands on her shoulders, and turned her about so she was facing him. She leaned back, her back against the glass of the sliding balcony doors, and looked up at him through tear-reddened eyes, as he urged her to do so, by cupping her face in his hands.

            "And what will that accomplish?" he asked, locking his eyes onto hers. Elena swallowed, and looked away, but he brought her gaze back to meet his, "Answer me, Elena, what will that accomplish? You may die in the process, or even if you succeed…he'll never come back…he's dead, and that's it…" 'That's it,' the words echoed in her mind. She felt her throat lock, and then hiccoughed, as she fell into his arms, sobbing violently, sucking in deep breaths. The mug fell from her hands, the contents spilling across the carpet, as she clutched at Reno, seeking support and comfort, the barriers falling away as the full realisation hit her.

~*~

The air was crisp; the gentle breeze blew lightly through her short, blonde hair. She stood before him now, his resting place, the dull grey, formally engraved slab doing little to promote the greatness he had presented – the Head of the Turks. The man she had unconditionally loved was now lying at her feet, resting eternally, and hopefully peacefully.

            "You left us too early, Tseng…" '…You left me too early…before I could heal from the evident, yet silent, rejection…' she thought, pausing as she envisioned his visage, eternally engraved in her mind, "there will always be a part of myself with you…always, since you took part of me with you when you died," She knelt down, placing the red rose she had with her upon the base of the headstone, that marked her loved ones grave. She stayed there for a while, gazing at what was engraved, then came to herself as she felt a gentle hand place itself upon her shoulder.

            "Are you ready?" came the gentle tones of Reno; he had accompanied her this day, having spent the night with her, making sure that she was alright, and now he was here to support her as she lay the ghosts to rest.

            "Yeah…let's go," she replied, placing her hand over his as she came to her feet. They smiled at each other, then cast a final gaze at Tseng's grave, then turned and walked away, returning to ShinRa and preparing to continue with their mission.