What the Turk Dragged in : Chapter Two
Reno Spiegel and Drakonlily
Sephiroth…
No, something… falling… maybe?
Wet, hot, cold, then --
Cloud Strife sat bolt upright. Pain clattered through his body, down his arms and around his broad shoulders. He fell back to his elbows, on a...bed? The room was dark, but his bright eyes lit almost everything around him. The off-blue light showed a faded photo of people, he knew them… a bald guy, some Wutain… the Turks. "What the...?" he mumbled, trying to get his bearings.
His head pounded; his mouth was dry. Then his stomach growled. Startled by the sound, he fell back to the bed. Though who's it was he didn't know. The pillow smelled comforting somehow, like brandy and old smoke. Then something that shone purple in the light of his eyes caught his attention… a hair on the pillow.
Rolling over, Cloud blinked at it, the name of it's owner was on the tip of his tongue. Ryan? No... Regan? No; why was his head so muddled up? How long had he been wherever he was? He was almost asleep again, when the name hit him.
Reno Drannor.
Again Cloud sat up, this time remembering everything. Sephiroth was dead, but if he was alone, did that mean that everyone else was dead, too? And how did he get here? He looked at the door again, wondering if there really was anything on the other side, or if this was just his strange, quasi-comfortable version of hell. Then again, hell would be comfortable after five years with Hojo…
He forced himself up out of the bed, shaking his head to clear it and walked out the bedroom door. The door felt heavy; he really was beat. Leaning in the door frame he looked to his right, batting a blonde bang from his face. Directly to his other side was a door, but a television set caught his attention. Just brighter then the drone from the box was a pair of Mako-blue eyes.
It was Reno, just as he had been the last time they'd met. The man was hard to forget: perpetual smirk, with a lanky runner's build, he would stand out without the bright red hair, or the scars accenting his eyes. Shaking his head again, Cloud cleared his throat, in an attempt to talk without sounding like he swallowed the ocean.
Reno had only half-heard the door open, rather preoccupied with the newscast about how many Wutains had died on the carrier today due to disease. They were simply shoved overboard and left to float until they decayed, a legal thing being as how they were their own city.
But when Cloud had cleared his throat, his eyes flickered to him. He regretted not wearing a shirt now, but he would survive. About thirty seconds passed before Reno snarled. "I drag you forty-five miles to safety after you wash up on the shore and you just gawk at me?"
He threw one of the icepacks on his knees at him, turned back to the television, and raised the volume.
Surprisingly enough, Cloud caught the pack and threw it back at the red head. "Where the fuck am I?" he snarled, his deep voice sounding far rougher from the sea water. He looked at Reno's kitchen and made his way over to it, digging in the cabinets for a glass.
Reno would have told him to keep his hands out of the redhead's rather-sanitary plates, but it died on his lips, too trivial to yell about. He put the icepack on his knee and wrapped a bandage around it before replying, "My apartment in the Gold Saucer. Like I said, you washed up and I dragged you back."
At last finding a glass, Cloud filled it with water and downed it. While filling another one, he looked over the counter at Reno. The man had a faint lateral scar on his chest. Cloud knew damn well where it came from: their fight on the plate. Of all the people to drag him here and help him, why would Reno be one of them? And where were the rest of the Turks, for that matter?
Of all the questions in his head, Cloud only asked one. "Why?"
Reno decided he would get no peace for some time, and shifted forward, kicking the at TV's controls until it turned off, and stood up. He looked rather awkward with the packs of ice wrapped around his knees, but they helped. Turning, he hobbled over and joined the man in the kitchen and started hunting through cabinets for food. "Because I was looking for..." He paused. "You know, fuck it. I don't even know why. Grab a frying pan, wouldja?"
Cloud obliged. Blinking at Reno again. "You dragged me Ifrit knows how far for no reason?" Brushing past the red head in the kitchen he crossed out of the way, drinking more of the large glass of water and sitting down at a small table. His body hurt like nothing he had ever felt before. Slumping onto the top of the table he asked lowly, "I was alone wasn't I?"
The redhead recalled a recipe for eggs benedict and turned the stove light on, adding a bit to his sight. He glanced at Cloud as he spoke, unable not to notice the man walked with a kind of grace you only found in the primest-cut SOLDIER, and the build to go along with it; he looked more like a wrestler than anything.
He opened the refrigerator and rifled around for what he needed, talking all the while with edge to his tone. "Ifrit don't know shit, Strife. Forty-five miles or I'll eat rocks until I die. And yeah, you were alone. Let me fill you in a bit, Hero-boy."
Cloud snorted a bit, sitting back up. "Hero-boy?"
He ignored the comment and started talking. He told Cloud everything that had happened since Meteor fell, minus what had happened to Elena and Rude in the tunnel -- that wasn't his business -- and how everything was now. By the time he was done, he had two plates of eggs benedict for them, Cloud's twice the size of his because he'd probably been floating around for a good week.
Handing over his plate, Reno sat down on the opposite end of the couch and eyed him. "And that's what happened," he said before starting to eat his own food.
Cloud never had been one to ignore food, at least as well as his memory served. His stomach twisted a bit, however. Reno was alone, that had to mean the other two were dead. As close as the three seemed… He looked down, trying to ignore the shirtless Reno.
They ate in silence, Cloud actually finishing his before Reno. He flumped back against the chair. Cid, Nanaki, Vincent, Tifa, Cait, hells, he even felt badly for Barret…
He had to ask. "Did Reeve...umm...ever make it out of Midgar?"
Reno gave him a look, then sighed, though he didn't look to depressed. "Me, Laney, Rude...we all got separated in the tunnels. I didn't get a chance to radio back to HQ before everything happened, but I wouldn't hold your breath." He was lying through his teeth about Rude and Elena, but it was still none of Strife's business.
"You didn't look for them?" Cloud blinked.
A silver fork hit the wall, and Reno's eyes literally flared, his Mako blood boiling. "Strife, people tend to pick up the hint when I have them over that the sooner I please them, the sooner I want them out. Mind your own fucking business."
He relapsed into silence, seeming very intent not to speak with the blonde anymore.
Cloud snorted. "You don't even know why the hell you dragged me out here. I had half a mind to accuse you of something regarding Dio and his dislike of me. But now I think you're more screwed in the head than even I am."
His "companion" couldn't help himself. "Yeah, well at least I've got enough sense to pick friends who aren't stupid enough to fly into a goddamn crater that's just waiting for a reason to kill people."
"As opposed to being the fucking cowards that wouldn't do anything about it in the first place?" Cloud snapped. His head was pounding, his muscles ached, and for some reason he just wanted to curl back up in Reno's bed and smell his pillow. That thought alone made him mad for some reason.
Reno stood up abruptly, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Strife. You just floated around for two weeks in the sea, and if we hadn't been paid off to ignore it and let you and your friends go handle it -- the phrase "fucking cowards" might help you grasp that idea a bit better -- you'd be out there on the coast as dead as the rest of AVALANCHE! Don't preach your bullshit to me!"
Cloud rolled his bright blue eyes, "I'm sorry" was poised on his lips, but he changed his mind. "If I didn't hit so close to home, it wouldn't have pissed you off." He stood as well, shouldering past the much lighter Reno roughly before going into his bathroom. He had to admit, that even when he was pissed off, Reno smelled good.
Shivers ran up Reno's arm when Cloud brushed past, pissing him off further, and he glared so hard at the door he thought it would fly open. "And if I hadn't hit so close to home, Sector Seven woulda been a lot happier!" he yelled. He wasn't sure what he was getting at with that; he just wanted Strife out of his bathroom.
Cloud wanted to slam the door hard, but of course, he didn't have the strength at the moment. He wondered absentmindedly if the doors really were heavy, or if he was just so drained. He peeled off his shirt, throwing it next to Reno's toilet. The bathroom was clean, surprisingly so, as if Reno cleaned it after he used it every time. The blonde blinked at his own reflection. He looked as worn out as he felt. Leaning on the sink, he rubbed his eyes.
He deliberately didn't look at the wishbone shaped scar on his chest, running up his ribcage and splitting where his ribs did. He didn't exactly remember when it happened, but he knew how. He always knew a lot more then he let on he did with AVALANCHE. Maybe that is why he wasn't so worked up about them all being gone. They used him, point blank.
And then he ended up the one place he didn't even think he wanted to. Reno's. Cloud had to admit that the red head was a very nice cook. Easy on the eyes, too… If only he didn't have that attitude problem. He pushed off the sink with a growl, taking off the rest of his clothes and getting in the shower, also as neat as could be. Oddly amused at the whole thing, Cloud allowed himself a smile.
It lingered. The shower smelled like Reno, too, without the cigarette smoke. Why did the asshole have to smell so nice? So comforting? Turning the water all the way to "hell" hot, he leaned his head against the wall. The water felt good, pounding on his head, on his sore chest and arms. God, he hurt. He counted numerous scratches and bruises that would be there long after he felt better. And then his thoughts wandered back to Reno…
Reno was washing the plates off in the kitchen by the time Cloud got into the shower, his appetite positively obliterated. And it was looking at the faucet that he got the idea. Moving quickly, and still grumbling that Cloud was in his bathroom screwing with his things, he left his apartment and ran for the nearest staircase, taken them two at a time down four flights to the "control" room. The door was propped open at all times by a big pole, not the best move, so he walked right in and found the panel he was looking for. He grabbed the nearest wrench, seeing this perfectly despite the low lighting, and attached it to the Room 202 Hot Water knob, turning it as far off as he could without breaking the knob.
Feeling accomplished, Reno put on his best "Who's the dumbass now?" smirk and walked casually back up the stairs and to his apartment door, expecting to fling the door open, march in graciously, and laugh at a half-dressed and freezing Cloud Strife, who would look at him in a state of utter misery and proclaim the war was lost on his side. Of course, he thought as he tried the door and found it locked, that was if he could get in without his key. Backing up, he kicked the door as hard as he could and shifted the blame with his mood. "Open the door, Strife!"
"Io non parlo englaish!" came Cloud's deep voice from the other side.
Reno refused to admit he must have looked as miserable as he's hoped Cloud would have as he rattled the doorknob, frowning. Locking Reno out of his apartment when he didn't even want you in there with his supervision was not a good way to get on his better side. "Shut your trap and open the goddamn door!"
There was a rustling of...Reno only wished he didn't know what from the other side. "Holy, Reno, what size shirts do you wear? Child's?!" Cloud at last unlocked the door, leaning on the frame, clean and in one of Reno's larger tee-shirts, a medium. The black shirt was stretched tight on his muscular chest, even the muscles of his stomach stood out. Or it could have just been Reno. The blonde man, however didn't seem to want to wear Reno's pants; the dirty ones he had on were the same Reno had dragged him back in.
The ex-Turk broke his gaze from the stretched-out T-shirt, quickly blaming it on the fact he was probably stretching his shirt out to the point of no return, and shoved past him, not really caring how offensive he was. To his horror, he saw a massive pile of clean clothes overturned on his coffee table, and growled, snatching up his key and spinning on his heel. "Get your shoes; we're going to the bar."
Cloud smirked, seeming to see where the other man's eye line was going. But he knew better than to say anything and followed the red head.
Reno basically had him by the collar outside the door, making sure it was locked and his key was safely in his pocket, before stomping off toward the elevator, fuming. He jabbed the 'Down' button so hard that it stuck for a moment before making the chime noise.
Cloud snickered again from behind Reno. Who would have thought, the place the last date he was on would be the first place he showed up again?
The ex-Turk's head whipped toward him as the elevator doors closed, slightly disappointed he had figured out it was safer here than throwing himself down via the balcony. "What's so goddamn funny?"
Cloud shook his head. "Nothing at all, Reno..." These elevators were small, oddly so. Maybe it was just Cloud being claustrophobic, but well, damn.
"Yeah, I'll bet," he muttered, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He had a horrible dislike for Cloud, no matter what anyone might say about his dragging him here. And he wasn't at all happy about being shacked up together with him, let alone in this horribly-small -- he'd noticed, too -- elevator with him. "Get on your side."
The blond flat palmed both walls, leaning into Reno. "Can't exactly help it, skinny." With a laugh at Reno's expression, Cloud leaned back against the wall again.
Reno squinted one eye at him. "You're creepin' me out, Strife. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
Again, Cloud just laughed. The door beeped and he waited for Reno to lead the way.
The redhead hurried out of the elevator, going to the bar area mechanically. He had to dodge a few kids wearing birthday hats to get there, but the "Twenty-One And Over Only!" sign told him he'd made it in one piece. He signaled to the bartender he wanted the usual and took the corner stool, looking more and more depressed.
Cloud took a seat one bar stool away from Reno. The bartender looked dead at him for a few moments before saying. "Hey... do I know you?"
"Doubt it. Jack, no ice..." was the reply. The man shrugged and turned to get Cloud a glass.
Reno had to admit, the guy was smooth in a bar. He slumped forward, folding his arms under his chin, and fixed his gaze on the small TV near the ceiling. He would have been talking it up with the usuals if anyone but Cloud Strife had been sitting next to him.
He didn't even look twice at the drink the tender put down in front of him, but watched Cloud inspect his before taking a drink. He lifted his head enough to speak. "Not all the bars outside Nibel are full of germs and slum-trash, you know."
Again Cloud rolled his blue eyes, but this time he said nothing.
Reno fell into silence as well, settling back down and eyeing his drink. He was really looking through it and catching the reflection of the TV behind him in it, where they were releasing who had won what sports game, and he looked away, scowling.
He'd been watching them all, and now his wallet was half its original size.
He noticed Strife casting him glances and narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"
"You just ran the gauntlet of emotions there. I take it you're a lousy better?" He didn't smile, just downed half the jack quickly.
Reno didn't much feel like telling him just how much he was down since Meteor, and his face just got darker. "I take it you're a lousy swimmer?" he growled.
Cloud rolled his eyes. "You know, I think that you are more testy then you were before everything. Feeling guilty?"
The redhead sat up, taking the first drink out of his glass so his mouth didn't forget the taste, and gave him a look that said "I dare you." He swiveled on his barstool to face him. "Guilty about what, Strife?"
Cloud downed the rest of his. "Being alive while your friends aren't. Unless, of course, I am wrong and you didn't give a shit about Rude or Elena."
That hit home. He wasn't quite sure if Cloud knew just what had transpired down in the tunnels, but Reno's weight was half on the tip of his left foot, resting on the ground as he half-stood. His face couldn't get any darker; his voice and mood could. "Listen, you ignorant, blonde, fuck. You don't know shit about them, you don't know shit about me. Stop pretending you do and watch your fucking tongue."
"I ain't pretending shit, your the one who isn't coming to terms, not me."
Cloud waved for another drink, he knew he was being mean, but there was something about Reno sulking that pissed him off. Not necessarily at Reno, but whatever it was at, he wasn't happy. He leveled another look at Reno. "I shoulda guessed. Split up my ass, you dumped them like trash and took off. I mean, fuck, the blonde may have been a bit helpless, but I thought at least you woulda found Rude a little useful."
Reno slammed his glass down so hard that a crack ran up the side, standing and going around his barstool. Usual patrons began heading for the door, many having felt the wrath of Reno's frustrations before. "I told you already, you don't know shit about any of us! And besides, at least I wasn't with a cripple and a slut for months on end. Not a guy in Midgar who hadn't seen every bra Lockheart wore aside from you."
He smirked again. "You think I care about whatever you think of her? Changing the subject doesn't exactly work all the time." Once again, the drink disappeared. "Or me for that matter? Just name calling to put blame off on other people? How about growing the fuck up and taking some damn responsibilities?"
Reno didn't put half his power into his first hit, clipping Cloud's jaw and literally wiping the smirk off his face. He had been caught in his own lie; responsibilities were things he'd chosen to get rid of after ShinRa had given him some suits, shades, and his mag-rod. "Shut your fucking yap...you don't know what you're talking about..."
Cloud snarled. He should have known better: here he was still aching from floating around the ocean for two weeks, after getting into Lord knows how long of a fight with Sephiroth, and starting yet another fight with Reno. To late now, "from the looks of things I know EXACTLY what I am fucking talking about."
The redhead reached over the bar and grabbed a random bottle, smashing it against the bar and holding up the jagged neck. He waved it at Cloud's face, his eyes a mixture of insanity and pure hate. Swinging the bottle back, he jabbed for the blonde's chest. "GIVE ME MY GODDAMN SHIRT BACK!"
Cloud jumped from the bar stool, amazing himself that he even held his balance. Spinning around Reno, he aimed his elbow for the other man's side, he missed. The wooden bar shattered in that area, splintering out from the impact. People who had been stupid enough to stay around ran at that point.
Reno flung the bottle against the wall, kicking their barstools away and spinning round, dipping his head and swinging his leg at the other man's neck.
He knew that if Reno managed to stay away from him, the other man's longer reach and better speed would win over his strength.
Solution: Get in close.
Cloud wasn't exactly fast, but he made up for it by being built like a Sherman Tank. Rolling his shoulder to the impact he tackled Reno to the floor. Then he stood up again, executing a snapmare, head locking Reno and tossing the lighter man over his shoulder into a table. Unfortunately, the momentum threw Cloud on the ground as well. The blonde stood up yet again, panting. He had no business fighting at this moment, especially with a trained Turk.
Reno sprang up off the table, having been in more than his fair share of barfights over the years, and used his own momentum to fly at the blonde man, bringing his fist back and nailing him in the jaw as hard as he could. Cloud made a small 'oof' noise before lifting from the ground, spinning, and coming to rest half on his side, at an angle. Reno looked down at him, feeling no accomplishment, and threw the nearest drink at his head, hearing it shatter just before he kicked the bar door open and stormed back toward his room.
Reno got back to the apartment quickly, still furious, and slammed through the door after unlocking it, not entirely sure he'd even touched the doorknob. He had planned to go directly to bed, but the mess on the floor caught his eye and he growled loudly, kicking the door shut and walking over to it, looking down at his unfolded pile of clothes.
"No good son of a bitch," he muttered, opening one of his large dresser drawers right behind him and throwing everything in, shutting the drawer with a bit of difficulty. It might have been due to the disorganization of it all, or at the fact his knuckles were throbbing.
"Out of sight is out of mind," he recited in a mock falsetto, walking to the kitchen and opening the freezer. He took out an icepack and applied it directly to his hand. If his knees hadn't gotten over the walk, he would have been an absolute mess right about then.
He was thinking about Cloud and all the trouble that came as his baggage for at least an hour, while cleaning various things with the hand he was still using, until his apartment looked as respectable as it had before.
He hated himself for being a closet neat-freak.
He hated Cloud for knowing just where to hit him to irritate him.
After enough time had passed to the point where he didn't figure Cloud was coming back, at least for the night, he locked the door and turned off all the lights, glancing at the clock and seeing it was only 11:30.
A bit early, but Reno was fed up with this.
He grabbed a rag to wrap around the icepack, and in turn his hand, and trudged off to bed, slamming the door behind him, despite the fact he was the only one there. He fell onto the bed fully-clothed, propping his hand a safe distance away, and buried his face in the pillows.
A moment later, he yelled into it, but then relaxed and started drifting off, his last conscious thought being:
They smelled just like Strife.
