Chapter 32-

Silence Before Thunder

"Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions."

---Wallace Stevens

There was no moon that night, only an empty hole in the sky obscured by dark clouds. Shadows upon shadows hid the scattered tents, encompassing them in stifling heat. This, this was the blackest night any of them had ever seen, and it wouldn't end.

Elena, drenched in sweat and suffocating, could not sleep. She was exhausted beyond all words, but something kept her from drifting off. Maybe it was the memories that had resurfaced in the vision from the reactor that day. Little things she'd never thought she would have to face again: her childhood; her loneliness; her early days as a Turk; Tseng. Oh, God, Tseng! Hot as it was, she buried her face under her pillow so as not to wake Shera with her great gasping breaths. Another woman might have sobbed, but Elena could not cry now. She only cried when emotion overcame her suddenly, a brief storm that quickly passed. She had wept when news of Tseng's death first reached her, but never again for him. Here, now, with this great pulsating sorrowful weight of regret and dread, she could only hide her face and pant, waiting for it to pass.

At length it did. Slowly, she untangled herself from her bedding, flailing when it seemed she would be trapped forever among the sheets. When at last she was free she hesitated, listening to Shera's quiet breathing. The mechanic was asleep. Satisfied, Elena slipped to the entrance and opened the tent flap.

The jungle welcomed her, its heavy air clinging to her flushed skin. She breathed deeply and coughed, detecting foul smells. She didn't want to guess as to their origin. Gongaga lay silent in the distance, a great monument to unthinkable horror. She would face it tomorrow.

No more of this, she decided with resolution. When I'm through here I'm going to settle down, go to the beauty parlor once a week, paint my nails. Get married, for God's sake! I've had enough mucking around in the dark.

She didn't want to consider the improbability of anyone wanting to marry an unfeminine, bossy woman in her thirties, one who was a Turk besides. She didn't let it occur to her that beauty parlors might very well not exist anymore now that the world was ending. She stepped outside, shivered once though the night was warm, and padded in the dark to another tent.

"Rude!" she hissed loudly, sinking to her knees in the mud. "Reno!" She waited a fraction of a second. "Come on, you two!"

Another minute passed and she was certain they either didn't hear her or were maliciously ignoring her. Refusing to sound plaintive and admit she needed them, she raised her voice and cried, "That's it, I'm going to bed right now if you don't answer me!"

Her own voice had startled her and now she sat back on her haunches, abashed. All was silent. For the first time she noticed how heavy and oppressive this place was, the jungle. It would lure her in and devour her greedily, and who was she to fight it? What a ridiculously weak, frail thing a lone woman was. Some unknown terror could slip out of the night, snatch her away with Death's great drooling jaws, and none of them would ever know what happened to her.

Stupid. Incredibly so. And yet the more she allowed her mind to dwell on it, the more she certain she became that the night was full of ravenous eyes belonging to beasts whose insatiable hunger could only be quenched if they seized her now, tore her soul from her body and swallowed it raw…

"You guys!" she positively screamed, covering her head in her arms.

The tent flap opened and Rude crept out, rubbing his eyes with his fist. He closed the flap behind him. "For Christ's sake, Elena," he whispered. "Calm down!"

She sat up, forcing herself to stop shaking. She wouldn't excuse herself, tell him she'd been frightened. Now that another human being was with her, her previous fears seemed silly. Harmless.

"You okay?" he asked, looking at her carefully. He knew her well and it was an unusual thing for Elena to be silent.

She clenched her teeth and ignored him. "Where's Reno?"

"Asleep," Rude murmured, sinking slowly on the ground. He reached out, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward him. "Sit here."

She was surprised but understood; as she sat close to him she felt a certain comfort, the kind that can only be derived from a fellow person one knows and trusts. She was beginning to feel, finally, a little safe, even if she dreaded tomorrow.

"He's asleep?" she repeated, doubtfully. Reno hadn't slept more than two hours at a time for the past week.

Rude nodded. "Soon as the tent was set up. He went in and collapsed without a word. Like he was comatose."

She sighed, closing her eyes and reopening them. "I wish there was something I could do," she said softly. "I'm worried."

Rude said nothing, but she knew what he was thinking. He was afraid, not of some nameless terror like she was, but of something more tangible: losing his best friend.

"He'll be okay," she said hastily, to reassure herself as well as her silent companion. "He's made it this far, hasn't he? He'll be fine." When no acquiescence was forthcoming she grew angry. "Rude! Answer me! He'll be fine!"

"I didn't tell you before." Rude spoke suddenly, not looking at her, but somewhere out in the darkness. "While we were setting up the tents, he vomited blood." He paused, then went on, speaking faster, words rushing forth like waves spilling onto shore. "Not a little bit, Elena. A lot. He didn't say anything and neither did I, but he's really sick-he's dying! The best friend- the only friend- I ever had is dying, and I can't do a goddamn thing. All I can do is watch." His voice broke and he slumped, unable to say more, exhausted. And yet she could feel his resolution, plainly. If Reno could not go on the next day, neither would he. Rude would never go on fighting and leave Reno behind. It didn't matter whether she was there- she may as well not even exist! It was Reno and Rude who were linked, inexorably. If one fell, so would the other. She would lose them both.

Elena's eyes were burning and she realized she was clenching her fists so hard her nails dug into her sweaty palms. She took a great gulp of air and found it scorching, suffocating. "He's not dying," she insisted in a strangled voice. "He's not, so don't you dare say it again. Do you hear me?" She was yelling now, half-hysterical, trying to stumble to her feet, but she was too weary and nearly fell over. "Do you hear me, Rude? I won't let you give up! Understand? He's not dying, and neither are you!"

From a few yards off an exhausted Cid Highwind hoarsely shouted, "Shut the hell up!" Otherwise, no sound broke the air.

Rude stared at Elena, at her heaving chest, the tears coursing down her cheeks. Her brown eyes wild and her lips trembling- this was Elena! He blinked once then, covering his astonishment, reached up and took her hand.

"Come here," he said roughly, and she finally allowed herself to give way, sobbing now, burying her face in his shoulder like a child. She had no idea why she was so distressed- in fact, she was crying harder now, and she was so ashamed! Whenever before she had been upset, it had been Reno who comforted her, not Rude. At least, not like this. A large awkward hand running over her knotted hair, his breath hot and fast close to her ear, the muscles in his chest tensing beneath her body. No, Rude had never before touched her like this, and she knew he never would again.

He wasn't like Reno, who knew how to be gentle. No, Rude, who was unused to women, held her clumsily, too tightly, unable to see because of the dark. And he was less than calm himself; his voice sounded strained and abnormal. "Reno will be fine," he croaked, obviously disbelieving his own words. "You'll see. You'll see, honey."

Rude saying "honey" in so harsh and unnatural a tone almost made her laugh, but she was breathless and could only squeeze him more tightly, mutely grateful. Here, she didn't have to be strong. Here, she was a woman, not a Turk. Just a woman. She wanted to stay like this forever.

But as soon as he felt her relax Rude released her and pulled away, wiping a hand over his face in a valiant effort to regain composure. He had to swallow repeatedly before speaking.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Elena."

She wanted to shout at him for being sorry after he had made her feel, for a few seconds, so inexplicably happy. But a wall had come between them; she couldn't speak. Rude was looking at her, uncertain, and she felt she had to justify herself, so she made an effort and said, "I think this was the worst day of my life."

He nodded slowly. "You can say that again. We never should have gone through the reactor."

She shuddered, remembering.

After falling through the door in the reactor, they had been in a clearing, a place she didn't recognize, a memory that wasn't hers. There were two strange men watching them, and one of them placed a gun in Rude's hands and told him to use it.

"Again?" Rude said softly, with a look in his eyes Elena would never forget. "Wasn't once enough for you, you bastard?"

Elena, bewildered, started to ask what was going on, but her voice failed her. Then one of the men grabbed her and began to haul her off. She tried to fight, tried kicking and biting, but her arms were immobilized; she could not move. "Rude!" she'd screamed. "Help me!"

He just stood there, staring at her as though she was a stranger. He was shaking, she was shocked to see, sweat shining on his face. Some kind of internal struggle was going through his mind, but she would never know what. As she watched, paralyzed, the man holding her prisoner smiling diabolically, Rude suddenly raised the gun in his hands and fired. She felt warm blood gushing down her throat and was terrified.

"Elena!"

Rude ran up to her, an expression of horror on his face, but it was the man behind her that he had hit. She turned and saw him slide wetly to the ground, a hole in his forehead.

Rude didn't look at him, though, and ran his hands over her body, checking for injuries, ignoring her rapid questions. When he was sure she was all right he embraced her tightly, and she was appalled to find he was still shaking.

"I missed," Rude kept saying. "Thank God I missed!"

Elena coughed softly, wishing she hadn't brought it up. Rude hadn't wanted to talk about it when she questioned him. "It happened a long time ago," he had told her. "It doesn't matter."

It did matter, she knew now. Any memory that could make staunch, implacable Rude visibly frightened had to matter. Reno's illusion had mattered- a person had died because of it. It was so hard for her to believe it was true, but it was. "Aeris is gone," she said aloud, trying to distract herself. "I don't understand it."

Rude cast her a wary glance. "I stopped understand things a while ago."

He didn't want to discuss it, but she did. "It just seems strange," she whispered. "She's gone, but it didn't happen here. It's like she never existed."

"Drop it, Elena," Rude said warningly. "I mean it."

Frustrated, she snapped, "You never want to talk about anything, Rude. She died today! She died, and you want to pretend it didn't happen! Why don't you stop pretending, for once?"

Usually patient, Rude finally lost his temper. "Shut up!" he yelled, looking furious enough to strike her. "Goddammit, don't you ever stop talking?" Abruptly he fell silent, ashamed. His face drained of emotion and became a mask again. "I'm sorry, Elena," he said for the second time that night.

She nodded silently, unwilling to speak. Rude was rarely angry with her, but when he was, it affected her.

Rude coughed, then suddenly started talking. "It's not your fault. It's- it's just this. When Reno told us, I couldn't believe it. Up to now, I never really thought anything could happen to any of us. But Aeris is dead, and now I'm starting to realize Reno could die soon, too. Tifa…" He broke off, hesitated, and continued, "Something's happening to us, and every day I wait for the ax to fall."

"Rude, please," she pleaded, wanting him to stop talking. His voice was awful to hear- toneless and empty. "That's enough."

He shook his head. "Don't you see? After I found out Aeris was gone, I realized I could have lost you just as easily. I could have killed you today, by accident, just like Reno did with Aeris! A couple of inches was all that saved you."

"It was you," she countered, trying to forget Rude's frightened look after he'd fired the gun. "You saved me."

He was still shaking his head. "Let's just…not talk about it anymore."

"Okay."

The day had been far too painful, for all of them. And she kept forgetting that Rude was not like her, that when he was disturbed he became taciturn and stoic. Elena, on the other hand, suffered if she didn't talk about things that bothered her. As though he'd read her thoughts, Rude said, "We'll talk about it someday. Just not tonight."

Because tonight might be our last, she couldn't help thinking with a shiver. How morbid, but how completely true. This could be the last time she talked quietly with her closest friend in the shelter of night. Thinking of this, she put out a hand to touch his shoulder and her fingers encountered rough cloth, tightly coiled over the entire upper arm. Rude's wound from the monsters in the reactor. "I completely forgot," she said in astonishment, remembering the agony he'd gone through mere hours ago. "Does it still hurt?"

He stared at her for a long moment, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Finally he smiled, such a rare thing for him. "Not so much anymore."

She shook her head. "You were nearly delirious before we went through the door," she murmured. "I was scared to death!"

He was still staring at her, and she suddenly felt warm, too warm. Turning her head away slightly, in order to breathe, she made herself force a laugh. "It has been a shitty day," she reemphasized, as though he'd argued with her. "Hey, you still have that flask? I really could use a drink."

She turned back to him and saw he'd frozen. He was looking sightlessly away from her again.

"It's been empty since yesterday."

She should have been angry, infuriated beyond words. But now she only felt a deep, profound weariness and regret she couldn't place. She had, in a brief moment of forgetfulness, allowed herself to nurse a slight, desperate hope. Never would she consciously formulate this hope into words and thoughts; it was far too precious for that. But it had been there, and when Rude said those words it fluttered for an instant, then fell and died.

"So," she said in a tremulous voice, "you're still thinking about her…Tifa?"

Rude hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.

He was embarrassed, Elena realized. He wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else, not even Reno. Everyone knew that Tifa had been torn between Cloud and Zack, but she belonged to one of them, that was certain. And still Rude pined after her, even though she noticed nothing! The hopeless yearning for a woman far beyond his reach had been with him for so long that he did not know how to let it go. It was an integral part of him; maybe he couldn't. Tifa was all he wanted, and thoughts of her plagued him at night. That was why the flask was empty.

Elena understood all this in an instant- she knew him so well! And she pitied him, for she could understand, better than anyone else. Hadn't Tseng haunted her for so long until she finally, finally was able to let him go? She pitied him- what else could she feel for her friend?

Sighing a little, she slid down and leaned her head against the shoulder she had wet only a few moments before with her tears. After a minute, Rude put his arm around her and they sat still like that for quite a long time. Before meeting Rude, it would have been unthinkable to Elena to sit quietly for more than a minute or two. But after becoming a Turk, she had learned to endure and finally enjoy companionable silences with Rude. Likewise, Rude had learned to become less taciturn and actually volunteer sentences while spending time with the sociable Elena. They understood each other.

"Rude?" Her voice was thick. She was almost asleep.

"What is it?" He'd been thinking; his voice gave it away. He was always slightly testy when his thoughts were interrupted.

"I'm glad I can talk to you."

"Me, too." And, gentler than his words, he squeezed her hand once, then let it go. She was asleep.

A Note from the Author

A mini-chapter that, I believe, helps remind us all of the central themes of RtP. Please let me know how you interpreted this- I worked very hard to make it symbolic of the whole story. Why choose Rude and Elena? They're complete ying and yang when it comes to coping, but they're still there for each other. Plus they're two favorite characters I haven't had a chance to work with much.

Oh yes- the flashback of Rude's illusion was a nod to Wasted, my other story. (Sorry, couldn't help myself) But it fit, so I threw it in.

Obviously this chapter is a mere prelude to the soon-to-come major battle crazy scenes; hence the title. If I bored you, I'm sorry- it's a mini-chapter.

Thank you all for the patience, and let's bring this sucker home!

Lila