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Furious Angels
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Chapter 3
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Replaced.
Of course.
Why not? He was gone.
He, who?
The man, once called Reno, now with no identity, who had been replaced.
Could he even be called a "he" anymore?
No data. An unknown. Zero.
Replaced.
It was only logical. They were a man short. The replacement was the best of the prospectives. Strong, smart, clever. Good with guns, good with his fists, all-around better-than-average. And on top of that, funny. A generally likeable guy.
Rude still wanted to kill him.
That's what he thought of, now. That's what he thought of, now, running on the treadmill. Set to a crazy speed.
Guns, knives, fists, bats. Reno's old EMR, which he'd left behind. He wanted to kill him. Tear him apart. Leave that once-was-Reno space as a once-was-Reno space.
But it never would be. To live, burn out, die. Nothing held sacred, not even the Self. Reno had filled a once-was-someone-else space. So had he. They were all once-was-someone-elses. Even Tseng.
Replacing someone. Oh-so-easy.
Who had he once-been? Who would be once-him?
Don't think. Words in his head, a voice of logic. Don't think. Don't think. Just move.
Move.
Running. Running more. Then still more. Counting by minutes at first, then half-hours, then hours. Gazing without seeing into the giant mirrors along the wall. The other him, gazing without seeing back at himself. Mako-fueled muscles screaming in his mind.
Screaming was good. Maybe they'd drown him out.
Wait.
Him, who? Him, which? Him, Rude? him, Reno? Or him—
"Hey, man!"
The replacement?
A smash of a hand on a few buttons. Bleep. Slowdown. No more running. Barely out of breath. Not bothering to even turn to face him. "What."
"Nothin', just y'know, surprised to see ya here."
He even talked like Reno.
"I mean I never see ya around, man. It's like ya don't exist, or somethin'."
Rude hated him. Silently. Secretly.
"Shit. You got that 'unfeeling' shit down. You're like a robot, man."
Twitch. Reno had called him that, too.
"I never even see ya in the cafeteria… ya even eat?"
With you? Never. "No."
Eyes, widening. A blink. "You… serious?"
Always. "No."
A pause, then a laugh. A grin. "Hey, man, that's kinda funny."
Gritted teeth. Hands, tightening their grip on the handrails of the treadmill. Thoughts of grinding stones to sand. And possibly flesh and bones, too. The same expressionless gaze.
An awkward pause.
"Um." A stammer. "Y'know, so, I thought like, since me and 'Lena are starting to be friends and all, maybe you—"
NO.
"Screw off."
Another blink, then a flash of anger. "Hey, man. I'm just—"
A smash of a hand on a few buttons again, different ones this time. The hum of the treadmill starting back up. The track, beginning to move beneath his feet, his legs, beginning to move again too.
Running again. In place, like always. Gigantic, deadly hamsters.
Not funny.
His own breathing, filling his ears. Pounding. His heart? Maybe. Maybe just his feet on the machine. Maybe both.
Just move, just move, just move, don't think. Just move.
Just move.
A murmur of words beside him.
Ignored.
Another one, louder.
Ignored as well.
Then an angry arm, clutching at his, pulling him sideways and off the treadmill. Pitching forward as his feet kept moving, stumbling into one of the exercise bikes. Getting up, slightly dizzy. Turning around—
First, confusion.
Second, pain.
One split-second.
Fury.
"What the hell—!"
The replacement yelped as he smashed into the wall, pinned to it by one hand at his neck, thrashing about and trying without success to break free.
Fury.
Rude's face staring down at him, still expressionless as ever. No movement wasted, no extra energy spent, all efficiency. Business, even now, with anger held only in the hand cutting off his voice and his respiration and the other hand reaching into his jacket, confiscating his gun.
Then, only the gun, right between his eyes.
Fury.
Terror, reflected in dark, mirrored shades.
"Screw," stated Rude with infinite calmness, "off."
The hand at the replacement's throat tightened, painfully. The end of the gun stamped a little red circle between his eyebrows. Held one moment, there. The edge of death. Then—
Release.
The replacement, falling over onto the floor, bruises already forming along his neck. The replacement, gasping for air. The replacement, throwing him a quick glance of fear before scurrying off, running in a way Reno never would have. Footsteps pounding down the hallway.
Once-was-Reno.
And if it hadn't been against orders, what would now be once-was-once-was-Reno.
Warmth from the replacement's neck, still tingling in one hand. Wishing it were blood. Rude threw a disgusted glance down at the cold gun in his other hand, gritting his teeth.
Safety still locked. Not even dangerous. That idiot.
Reno would just have laughed, in his place. And maybe kicked him, too.
Damn it.
Stop thinking.
A careless toss sent the weapon sliding across the floor. Screeching of metal on metal. Sliding, sliding, then stopping.
Momentum and noise broken by a polished brown shoe.
Elena's shoe.
Her voice, as he climbed back onto the machine, stopping him in place right before he started up his running again.
Breaking the silence. "Rude…?"
Turning, a casual glance over his shoulder.
Blue eyes staring at him, hands halfway up in the air, frozen in place. A small mouth slightly open in shock.
So she'd seen.
…who cared. He'd never been… nice. She knew that.
Breaking the new silence. "What."
Confusion, hesitation, a shake of a blond head. "No…" Disappointment. "Nothing."
Fine. Turning back to the machine.
"Rude…" A quaver in that voice.
Turning back around again.
One hand at her side now, the other tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "You know… it's… I don't know if… give him a break, he's just…"
A blank stare.
"No." Corrections. Taking words back. "No, nothing." A wave, turning away. "No, nothing. Sorry."
Watching her go.
Then: alone.
Currently-is-Rude went back to running.