Pointless author's notes:

This section has some personal meaning to me, because this is where I began writing again last January, after taking, what, 3 years away from it? 4? Something like that. It might have a different tone to it, perhaps even a different style. Three years can change a writer.

This is also where I more or less figured out where I was going with this story, so pretty soon there should be something resembling an actual plot, I think. Or hope, anyway.

In this chapter: Reeve makes it to Cosmo Canyon, and Cid has a line which I'm admittedly proud of, because it still makes me giggle.

And, ahh, flashbacks. Don't ya love 'em? ;) Heaven knows I do. I sometimes think that I'd be better off writing a series of FFVII vignettes, but then I'd have a huge bunch of them scattered around. I like the idea of flashbacks in a longer story. I think that it offers insight into characters (or in fanfic, why the writer chose a particular route of characterization,) as well as adding some depth to the story.

All of which is total bullcrap, because the real reason for this flashback is that I'm a ShinRa fangirl and I was on a Reno kick when I wrote this chapter. Hackery at its finest. ;D I'm very fond of the idea of backstories on Reno, but I find that most of them are the same old fanon: Reno is a poor kid from the slums who's got some sort of traumatic backgroundusually abuse and often sexualand joins ShinRa to escape it all. Then he invariably becomes an alcoholic or a drug addict. Someone in powerusually Rufusexploits Reno's inherent weakness and rapes him, and then Reno runs to Rude and they make hotthott healing luuurv because everyone in the world is TEH GEI!1

I have no problem admitting that I'm sick of that story and I really wanted to go another way with Reno. He is a smartass; that's canon. He's a sloppy dresser, that's canon. But I think that Reno must also be smart and fun, too. And I don't necessarily think he's got some tragic past, either.

Oh, one more thing. Uhh, yah...I see now from the Advent Children screens, as do we all, that those are not scars on Reno's face as most of us guessed, but rather tattoos. But when I started posting this, I decided that I was going to keep it the way I had originally written it, before AC came along, and so damnit, I will. ;)

So, here we go.


Reeve

The sun was setting as Reeve descended the last hill before the stairs to Cosmo Canyon. It made the parched, red dirt all around him look like blood. An ill omen, Elmyra would have said. Blood on the horizon.

And sometimes he remembered her eyes, and how Aerith's eyes had always reminded him of Elmyra's, though he knew that there was no blood relation between them.

Blood relation...blood on the horizon...Goddamn blood on your shirt...

Reeve looked down at his tattered clothes and wasn't entirely surprised to see that he was bleeding again. He supposed it was the only time in his life since Meteor that he had ever wished that Sephiroth was around. The bastard could heal, damn him.

Talking to Sephiroth like a normal person again had been beyond strange. Cursing him to his face had been so surreal that a part of him wanted to wonder if he hadn't dreamed it all. But then, there was Sephiroth's cloak to consider. Reeve was wearing it. Perhaps he was still dreaming.

"Bastard could have gotten me something to eat," he muttered aloud. "Conjured some food...some water. Bastard."

He pulled his torn shirt and the cloak closer around him, wondering fleetingly if he wasn't symbolically trying to hold his insides in. He wondered what it looked like in there.

The sand was dry in his mouth. It took him a second to realize that, and another second to wonder why there was sand in his mouth. Reeve opened his eyes and saw that he was on the ground. He had no memory of falling. One moment he had been wondering what his insides looked like, and the next, he'd been eating this dry, red dirt.

"Jesus. It must be 'collapse at the entrance to Cosmo Canyon' day," said a voice from above him.

"It is," Reeve answered, though he had no idea whom he was answering or why they'd said that. "I like to observe all the minor holidays."

Someone turned him over onto his back. "Wow. Something made a mess of your shirt."

"Yeah..." Reeve said, too tired to open his eyes. The other person didn't sound like he was about to kill him. The voice sounded familiar. "A piece of NeoNeoMidgar and some kind of...of metal thing. Shame. Good shirt."

"You look like shit."

Reeve finally opened his eyes, because if he was going to make a snarky return comment to the person, he had to at least know what he looked like and maybe base it on that. He couldn't quite focus, but he didn't need to. The blond hair and the goggles were all he needed to see.

"Oh," was all he could think of to say in his relief. "Cid."

"I'd ask you how you've been, but I guess I already know the answer."

"I've been better but I've already gotten some help from..." With sudden panic, he remembered why he had come here. He sat up too quickly and had to grab onto Cid's arm to keep from falling back down. "Sephiroth... Christ, Cid, Sephiroth is back, it's really him, not just a clone, he's here to see Cloud, he seems..."

"I know, I know," Cid said, and took Reeve by the arm. "It's all good. That's why I'm here. They got your message through Cait Sith and they radioed for me while I was on the Highwind. Come on." Cid was slipping his arm around Reeve and trying to haul him up. "You gotta help me here; I ain't carrying you up all these stairs."

"Right," Reeve said, and stood up with Cid's help.

"So," Cid said in a conversational tone as he braced Reeve up the first step, "you've seen Sephiroth?"

"Seen him. Was with him. Talked a long time."

"Talked," Cid said, surprised. "Well that's different. He do this to you?"

Yes! Reeve wanted to scream. The murderous bastard came back and did this; we have to kill him!

"No," was what he ended up saying. But he refused to tell Cid that Sephiroth had helped him. That he had saved his life.

"The ShinRa's here," Cid said.

"ShinRa?"

"Well, the Turks."

"Oh," Reeve said. "Turks aren't ShinRa anymore. Anymore than I am. Anymore than you are."

And thank god they're alive, he added mentally. But he didn't want to say anymore about them, because he wasn't certain how much Cid knew about Midgar, or their possible involvement in its destruction, which he still didn't entirely believe. And now you're keeping secrets. Isn't this just like old times? he thought grimly.

"Right, well..." Cid said, "Anyway, they saw Sephiroth, too."

"No shit?" Reeve said.

"Maybe, maybe not. That's what they say. They're wanted."

Reeve turned his head so that he could see Cid's face. It was hard to read him by his voice. "Wanted? By whom? For what?"

"By...I don't know, New ShinRa's authorities I guess, whoever the hell they are. For blowing the living Christ out of Midgar."

Reeve stopped putting one foot in front of the other and Cid had to catch him around the waist so he didn't fall backwards down the stairs. He was glad that his first reaction hadn't been to believe that the Turks had been out to destroy his city, but rather to wonder why other people believed it. Sephiroth had said that naïveté was endearing but useless. Reeve believed in hoping for the best while being prepared for the worst.

"How'd you hear about this?" Reeve asked.

"Saw it on the TV. Goddamned Scarlet with pictures of them, saying that they'd had their confessions on tape but the Turks had escaped and destroyed the tape she had..."

"SCARLET!" Reeve tried to bellow, but only managed to rasp. "Goddamned Scarlet? Scarlet?"

"Yeah, Scarlet. Reeve, settle down, you're gonna make us fall."

"Scarlet? Cid, Scarlet!"

Reeve wasn't exactly sure why he could do nothing but repeat her name in outrage, but the damned thing seemed to want to keep coming out. Of course she'd had something to do with it. She could only have been framing the Turks for one reason: she was responsible. He had sent the Turks on the mission without checking it out. And if, for some reason, the Turks really had destroyed NeoNeoMidgar, then he had destroyed NeoNeoMidgar, which would apparently have to be NeoNeoNeoMidgar in the future. Scarlet had played him.

But how had she gotten the power? How had she gotten the information? And even more appalling

"How'd she get on television!" Reeve said as Cid hauled him up the last step.

"Jesus, Reeve, calm down, will ya? Don't make me slap you! I don't know how she got on television. Had someone tape her is my guess."

"That bitch!" Reeve said. He realized with no small surprise that he was laughing. It felt great to shout, or at least to try to shout. It felt great to call her that. It felt great to be in Cosmo Canyon with Cid.

Cid turned him around and held him at arms' length, looking at him critically. Reeve found this even funnier.

Cid rolled his eyes. "Great," he said. "That's just brilliant. Your psycho ass will be a huge help. Glad to have you aboard."

Reeve laughed so hard that Cid had to catch him.


Cloud Strife

"Bitch," Reeve was muttering at intervals as he paced the small, dark room. His voice was quiet and even.

Cloud didn't like that voice. It sounded too much like his own, when he was fighting the good fight for control.

Tifa shifted uncomfortably on the sofa next to Cloud, while Barret and Cid sat on chairs across from them. Nanaki sat in the corner, occasionally watching Reeve with his one good eye. This was Tifa's office at the Shildra, and Cloud liked what she had done with it. It was warm, quiet, comfortable and clean. It smelled vaguely of scented candles and Tifa's rosemary shampoo. Sometimes he fell asleep on her sofa.

"We'll have to get the Turks' story, too," Cloud said. "I know that Scarlet is behind this thing with Midgar..."

"NeoNeoNeoNeoNeoMidgar," Reeve said quietly, and pivoted on his heel to pace the other way.

Everyone in the room turned to look at him, and Nanaki seemed about to say something, but Cloud thought it best to let Reeve work this out in his own time. He shook his head, subtly signaling Nanaki to keep quiet. Only he did wish that Reeve would sit down. The pacing was annoying.

"Cloud," Tifa began as she shifted to face him, "is Scarlet responsible for Sephiroth's return?"

Cloud felt a shiver run down his arms and back at the mention of the name; it had less to do with fear than with the cells that had acted up earlier. He thought it over before answering. "It could be, but I don't think so. If she was the one who destroyed the cloning facility..."

"That's only according to the Turks," Tifa said.

"Bradburn," Reeve said. "He came to me with the deal. I destroyed the city. I sent the mission to them."

"But you didn't know what the mission was, and you didn't know it was under Midgar." Nanaki said.

"Reckless as shit, Reeve," Barret said.

"Goddamnit, I know that!" Reeve was about to continue, when his PHS rang. He jumped back like a startled cat before he realized what the noise was.

Everyone waited expectantly while Reeve dug it out of his pocket and answered, and everyone listened to the one-sided conversation:

"Oh! Well, yes. Yes, I am. I can't tell you where, just that I'm alive and I'm doing what... I know that. I know that, too. Look, there was gil left over from the arcade, and you can still get emergency funding, and start the evacuation, that's very important... Well I know that, Fletcher, but I spent most of the day lying under a piece of NeoMidgar with a metal spike through my goddamned kidney!"

For a moment, they could all hear the other man's voice rise in panic; Cloud could make out the words, "Jesus Christ are you okay?"

"Yes, but I'm...Fletcher, I'm trying to solve this before it happens again. No, they haven't found who's responsible." He stopped and glanced around the room with an uncharacteristic challenge in his eyes as if daring anyone to refute this.

In spite of it everything that had happened, Cloud had to smile. Reeve could be such an idiot sometimes.

"Right. Continue with the evacuation, in that case," Reeve went on. "I want every last person out of there. The shelter outside of NeoMidgar is incomplete, but it'll do for now. Tell the press that I'm...Just tell them I was in NeoMidgar when it happened and I'm still missing... I know it's risky, just trust me. Okay. Yes, soon. Okay. Thanks."

And with that, he hung up.

Cid was smiling and shaking his head. "Quick politics, Reeve," he said. "'What To Do If My City Gets Blown Up, in ten words or less.'"

"Shut up, Cid," Reeve said, and shoved the PHS back into his pocket.

"Well, hate to move on after that, but...moving on?" Cid said.

"Bradburn," Tifa said.

"Sent by Scarlet," Cloud added. "And so far, that's all we know."

Reeve sat down heavily in the corner and ran his hands through his hair, which was stringy and caked with blood and sand. He clearly needed to wash and rest.

"Look," Cloud said in what he hoped was a gentle way, "why don't we take a break until everyone's..."

"The Turks will know more," Reeve said.

Everyone was quiet, waiting for him to go on. Cloud felt Tifa tense beside him, and he put his hand on her arm out of habit. He sometimes felt as if he had to hold her off. She could be dangerously defensive. He couldn't blame her for it.

"Let me go and talk to them," Reeve said.

Everyone looked at Cloud, and it amazed him that they still somehow thought of him as their leader in these sorts of decisions.

He didn't have to think twice about his answer. Reeve meant well, could be shrewd when it suited him, and could take care of himself. "I trust everyone here," Cloud said.

Tifa dropped her head into her hand in exasperation. "Last time you said that, Cloud..."

"Last time I said that was two weeks ago. If you mean the first time I said that when we were all together, then just remember how different things were back then." He waited for her to look up at him, and then gave her his most confident smile. He could never understand why, but no matter what else was going on with him (or in him,) his confidence in something was enough to win her over. He was both amazed and incredibly guilty over this. As usual, she smiled back.

"Go on, Reeve," Cloud said. "Then get some rest, and let us know what you know. We're going to have to deal with the Turks sooner or later, and deal with them neutrally. I'm okay with that. If anyone's not okay with it, then they don't have to be there."

Everyone nodded tiredly. God, again, their little group was so tired. Cloud was tired, too. It had been a long, lonely day. But for then, The Bitch was gone. He didn't want to think her name, because sometimes that was enough to call her voice back into his head. The Bitch was gone, and maybe he could rest for a while.

Reeve got up slowly, bracing himself against the wall as he did so.

"They're on the bottom floor," Nanaki said. "I'll take you to them, Reeve. When Reisei shows up, we might have to leave."

"Reisei?"

"Healer. You should see her, too."

"Don't you have, uhh, any doctors?" Reeve asked.

"I don't like doctors," Cloud replied. He smiled as well as he could to try to offset what he had said, and left it at that.

Reeve looked startled, and didn't seem to know how to answer that. Rather than flounder awkwardly for a way, he just nodded and turned to follow Nanaki.

Reeve closed the door behind them, and Cid, Barret and Tifa were silent for a moment.

"Well," Barret said, but didn't follow it up with anything.

Cloud would later remember that it was Tifa who said the last thing he heard before it hit him. Before The Bitch hit him like...Well, rather like Meteor, he thought.

"We should call Yuffie," she said.

And then Cloud thought about the other person who wasn't here, and whom she hadn't mentioned. He was the one no one mentioned, because mentioning him made Her want him to come back.

(To regroup.)

This one person and Cloud were better off far apart, shame that it was.

But Sephiroth was likely on his way to Cosmo Canyon, for whatever reason. Cid had flown in, and Tifa was going to call Yuffie. Cloud knew there was going to be a confrontation; he just didn't know who would be confronting whom (or what,) or what they would use to fight.

But he wasn't getting better, and suddenly he knew that it was time.

He'd broken out in a sweat, but was determined to say it calmly.

I think it's time to call Vincent Valentine. I think it's time to ask him to come here. I think we should be together and see what She can do, and what we can do to Her.

He opened his mouth to say these things, but She had heard him, and he felt Her joy and her triumph.

(reunion)

No, he tried to say. He put his hands on his head in a futile effort to block her out, but all he could hear was the high-pitched, blood pressure ring of her presence.

(REUNION)

She pushed him to his knees. He felt Tifa's hands on his back, and what might have been Cid's hands on his arm, trying to pull him back up.

He knew that somewhere far away, Vincent Valentine was likely feeling the same call. He would probably try to block it out. Cloud had to tell Tifa that it was time to bring him here. He hoped she would believe that it was him talking, and not Her, but he could feel the light burning in his eyes and he knew she wouldn't trust his words.

"Vincent," he said, as he turned his face up to her, hoping that she would see that he was still here, still in possession of his will and his voice.

Through the overbright haze of light between them, he saw her shake her head "no," a desperate look on her face. Cid was kneeling before him, and in what seemed like the far distance, Barret was trying to pull Cid away. He couldn't hear what they were saying.

(REUNION!)

"Vincent," Cloud managed again.

Tifa looked afraid, and he knew what she was thinking. He had to convince her that it was him talking.

"The well," he managed, before She wrapped her cold hand around his throat and squeezed. She didn't want him talking. She wanted to be the one doing the talking. With a snarl, he pushed Her back. "The stars," he said.

Tifa put both hands on his face, and Cloud saw that she was crying. Finally, she nodded.

"Call Vincent," he said.

As She covered his eyes and he fought to keep Her away from the others, he hoped that Tifa was armed to cast Sleep on him before She made him do anything bad to anyone.


The Turks

Nanaki led Reeve to the door, then backed away. He hadn't said a word to Reeve on their way to the room, and Reeve was so tired that he hadn't even noticed. He'd almost felt as if he was walking alone.

"Thanks," he said to Nanaki, who had already turned to walk away. Nanaki turned back and acknowledge him with a nod.

Reeve stood at the door for a full minute, ready to knock but hesitating. They were probably asleep.

And Tseng was in there. He had no idea what he would do when he saw Tseng, but he felt strangely calm about the whole thing. Perhaps more numb than calm. He knew he couldn't wait until morning.

He shifted his weight and heard the floorboard creak beneath him. Immediately after, he heard a floorboard in the room creak, too.

"Who's there?" Elena said from the other side of the door.

Reeve tried to speak, found his throat too dry, and managed to rasp his name. He was dismayed to note that he sounded as pathetic as he felt.

Elena opened the door and stepped back. In a light blue, cheap robe with the words "Shildra Inn" embroidered next to the lapel, she looked pale and tired. The lights were dim, but he could discern a scrape across one cheek and a bruise across the other.

However, Reeve quickly saw that she wasn't the worst off. Rude was asleep on the sofa, and he looked just as battered as she did. Reno was clearly shivering under a pile of blankets on one bed, and Tsengwho had seemingly not aged since Reeve had last seen himlooked more unconscious than asleep on the other bed. His hands were tied together and bound to the headboard. Reeve could only stare and wonder what the hell had happened. Which brought him back to why he had come to see them.

"Elena," he said.

She responded by putting her face in her hands and weeping quietly. "Midgar," she said between sobs.

"Oh," Reeve saidand quite stupidly, he thought. "Yes. Midgar."

Elena looked up and, in a surprisingly unsettling gesture, bit her knuckles to keep from sobbing again. She looked at Reeve with bright, shocked eyes. "I didn't know," she mumbled. "I'm so sorry."

He knew that Tifa would have sneered, and, hell, probably Sephiroth would have, too. Cloud, on a good day, might have weighed the situation carefully before deciding what to believe and what to feel about what he believed. But Reeve believed her right away, and to hell with what anyone might have thought about that. The Turks had destroyed a part of his city, and likely killed a number of innocent people. But they hadn't known what they were doing, and even though it didn't put things right, he couldn't condemn her for it.

Not in the place they'd come from, where activists blew up Mako reactors in the name of saving the Planet. He hated destruction, but he understood sacrifice just as well as she did. And after having designed the plate over Midgar, and having spent years both working for ShinRa and in the acquaintance of Cloud Strife, he understood mistakes very well, too.

Reeve took a few stumbling steps across the room and put his arms around her. She was so small. He'd never noticed before how small she was without her ridiculously high (yet ridiculously functional) shoes on. She smelled like cheap bar soap and hotel shampoo.

"I didn't know," she said again.

"I know you didn't. I didn't either. But I sort of needed to hear you say it."

She nodded against his shirt, wiped her eyes, and pulled away from him. As she did so, she looked at his shirt for the first time.

"Jesus, Reeve," she whispered. "What happened to you?"

Reeve cringed. He knew that the truth would hurt her, and there was no sense in lying. But he still had to shift his eyes away from her when he said it, as if, for some reason, it was his fault. "I was in Midgar when it happened."

She stared at him as she pieced it together in her exhausted mind. "And you were hurt? How were you hurt?"

"It's not important."

"I want to know," she said. Her voice had risen above a whisper, and Rude stirred on the sofa.

Reeve stared at the floor, focusing on a water-stained board. He guessed that the pipes above must have leaked at some time. He decided that Tifa should put rugs down over the hardwood floors. Yes, that would look nice. Light blue rugs to match the robes, and...

"Reeve?"

Reeve snapped back to attention. "I, ah... The ground caved in, I guess. I don't know. Something went through my back. I'm okay now."

Tentatively but resolutely, Elena reached out for Reeve's shirt. When she grabbed the bottom of it and started to lift it, he realized what she was doing and stopped her hands.

"It's okay," he said.

She nodded and withdrew her hands. "How did you get here?"

Midgar concrete nightmares Sephiroth airship...Sephiroth...

He found that he couldn't tell her. He was too tired to go over it again. "That's a long story. Tell you later."

She nodded again and backed off. "Reno figured it out at the last second. Reeve, he tried to defuse the bombs. They were Scarlet's bombs and they were only supposed to take out the body factory, they didn't look capable of much more, but god, we should have recognized her work." She glanced at Reno, then looked back to Reeve. "He just went insane when he realized, Reeve."

Reeve looked at Reno, who seemed to be no more than a pile of moving blankets with a stream of red hair on top. Reno had been sick after the first time he'd destroyed a section of Midgar, too, only at the time, Reeve had figured he deserved it. This time, knowing what he knew, he could only imagine the guilt of having done it twice. Reno's home had been there, too.

He looked from Reno to Tseng. There just had to be a reason why Tseng was tied to the bed, and he didn't think it was a good time to tease Elena about it. Though an admittedly immature part of him wanted to.

"Um, Elena?" he said as he looked at Tseng.

"Oh. Right." Reeve looked at her and saw that she was smirking. "It's not what you think."

He had to smile back at her. His smile faded, however, when she explained it to him.

"Tseng's been working with Scarlet, and..."

"What?" Reeve hissed. He was aware that he really had hissed, but he couldn't help it. Just the sound of her name made him angry.

"Well...Well we don't think he meant to. I mean, what I'm saying is, he's not himself. He doesn't remember anything. Well, for a second he remembered Reno, but I'm not even sure if he knows his name. He really is Tseng and he still sort of acted like himself, but it was like he was"

She had stopped abruptly, and she stood in the center of the room looking startled by something.

"What?"

"It was like he was confused," she said.

Reeve stared. Obviously Tseng was confused if he didn't even remember Reno, but Elena had just had a revelation of some sort. He waited patiently to hear what it was. "And?" he prompted when she didn't seem inclined to tell him.

"No, Reeve," she said quietly, walking up to him again. "I mean, it was like he was Confused. Confused, you know? Status Materia?"

It took a full second before Reeve got what she was saying. "Oh!" he said. "But, you know...for all those years?"

They walked together over to Tseng's bed. Elena sat on one side of the bed and Reeve sat on the other as he took his first good look at Tseng since finding him in the Temple of the Ancients. If he was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that Tseng didn't look different at all. He looked just as wasted and just as young.

But no matter what he looked like, Reeve couldn't quite believe he was seeing him again. He'd suspected Tseng to be alive all these years, and hadn't considered the possibility of not seeing him again, and yet actually seeing him was a surprise. Even in the present situation, he found he was glad.

Elena shifted her weight to turn to Reeve, and the bedsprings creaked. She didn't see Tseng open his eyes.

"Reeve, do you think"

"Wait," he whispered.

Tseng's irises were a murky, bright green, as if he'd recently been hit with a tremendous blast of Mako. Reeve could hardly see their natural color underneath, and his pupils were covered, too. Tseng looked at Reeve for a long time, but didn't show any sign of recognition. Elena kept quiet beside them.

After a long moment, Tseng left off his unsettling perusal of Reeve's face and looked up to where his hands were bound. Then he looked again at Reeve.

"Did you do this?" he asked in a whisper.

"No," Reeve said. "Tseng, sir, do you remember me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Reeve, what happened? Where's Aerith? Did she make it out safely?"

Reeve had no way of answering that. All at once he felt regret, pity, and guilt about not having known where Tseng had been all these years, and not having bothered to look for him. It had never occurred to him that he might be in trouble. Though "trouble" didn't seem to cover it.

Tseng pulled down on the rope that bound his hands, grabbed the loose end, gave it and his hands a twist, and freed himself. Reeve heard Elena gasp.

"Tseng, sir," she said. "I'm sorry I had to do that."

Tseng finally looked at her. "Elena," he said. "If you had pulled the loose end out of my reach I wouldn't have been able to do that."

Elena smiled. "You remember me?"

Tseng seemed about to answer, then remembered that Reeve had asked him the same thing. There was confusion in his eyes as he looked quickly between them. "Why do you ask?" he said.

"Tseng," Reeve said, seeing that Elena couldn't seem to think of anything to say. Elena could probably hand Reeve his ass in a fight, but talking things through was his strong point. "Tseng, there's a lot you don't know. It's going to take a while to tell you everything."

"Who's dead?" he asked. He braced himself on his palms and pulled himself up. Elena put her hand on his shoulder to push him back down, but he swatted her away and leaned up against the headboard. He looked around the room, at Rude, at Reno, and at Elena, in an obvious, well-practiced head count of his Turks. Then he sat back, a bit more at ease. The fact that they were his first priority was a good sign.

"Tseng, I don't even know how to start," Elena said.

"Just tell me straight out. Someone's dead. I've been injured somehow and I have no memory of what came before this. So just tell me straight out."

Reeve thought it best to start with the most obvious question. Apparently Elena did, too, because they simultaneously asked him, "What's the last thing you remember?"

And that was good; it forced him to think instead of just listening to them babble.

Tseng thought. He took his time, staring at the opposite wall. His eyes glowed in the dim room, more vibrantly than any Mako eyes that Reeve had ever seen. He looked inhuman, and the effect was made worse by the fact that he didn't know how frightening he looked. For that moment, in the cold, dark room at the Shildra, Tseng was a nightmare who inspired pity and fear. Reeve would never forget the solid green of his eyes.

"I remember a lot," he said, "but I'm having trouble telling reality from dreams." He looked at Reeve, shaken but determined. He blinked, then looked again. Narrowing his eyes, he put his hand on Reeve's face. Reeve was too surprised by this gesture to move.

Tseng turnedwith a speed that Reeve should have been ready for, but wasn'ttowards Elena, making her start back. He stared at her, and then touched her face, as well. Then he held his own hand in front of his face.

Reeve understood, and Elena must have as well, when Tseng stared at the green glow on his hand.

"Mako," he whispered. "I have Mako poisoning."

"Yeah," Elena said. "I'd say you do. I suspect that you've been hit repeatedly with Status Materia."

Tseng dropped his hand and looked at Elena. "Of what sort?"

"Confusion, is my guess." She tucked her leg under her and held his gaze, tiredly but with determination that matched his own. "When I say 'hit repeatedly,' sir, I mean, for long periods of time with no comedown. That's just a guess, sir."

"I see. How long do you suspect this has been going on, Elena? And do you know who might be responsible?"

Elena took a breath. She glanced at Reno, still sleeping fitfully under the blankets. She glanced at Rude, still sleeping quietly. Then once at Reeve, who nodded for her to continue. It seemed she was doing well enough without his help, and anyway, it might be better coming from Elena. It would be more like an official report to her boss.

"Scarlet, I think," she said. She didn't give him a chance to figure that out or react before going on. "And, it's been years, Tseng. I don't know if she had you with her the entire time since the last time I saw you, but I'm sure it's been years."

"How long since the last time you saw me?"

"Ten years," she said. Her eyes were dry and her voice was steady. "You're forty one years old. Aerith has been dead the entire time."

Tseng didn't show any surprise other than a slight parting of his lips. He looked away from Elena and down at the bedspread, where green light pooled in the creases. "I see," he said.

Reeve didn't think it was a good time to tell him everything that had happened since, and what was going on now. He knew that Tseng should know as much as possible before anything big started to go down (and he had a feeling that would be soon,) but it would take too long to tell. It looked to him like everyone needed sleep more than anything else.

"Tseng, sir," he said, "maybe for right now we should all get some sleep."

Tseng continued staring at the bed. After a moment, the green light disappeared, and Reeve could see that he had closed his eyes. He wondered if he'd already fallen asleep.

"Tseng?" he said.

Elena was already getting up, and Reeve saw that she looked uneasy. "Reeve, you'd better"

Before she could finish, Tseng had grabbed her by the throat. He was on his feet before Reeve could react, and had pinned Elena against the wall.

"What part of my orders was unclear?" he asked.

Reeve jumped across the bed and grabbed Tseng by the shoulders, trying to pull him away from Elena. When that failed, he grabbed Tseng by the arm and tried to at least get his hands off her throat. He knew that he was saying something urgently to Tseng, trying to get his attention, but he wasn't clear on what he was saying. Elena raised her knee and caught Tseng right under the sternum, but it didn't seem to have any effect.

Reeve felt himself being shoved aside, and a second later, Reno was on Tseng's back, trying to fight his arms down. Rude had taken Elena around the waist and pulled her away from the wall. Tseng had nothing to brace himself on and sprawled under Reno, who had one knee on his boss's back and one hand on the back of his head, while his free hand tried to grab hold of Tseng's arms.

Tseng rolled over, taking Reno with him, and then turned around, pinning the slighter Turk. Reeve began to climb across the bed to reach them, thinking only to stop Tseng from doing whatever it was he was about to do to Reno. Rude, who was holding Elena up as she gasped for breath, frantically waved for Reeve to stay where he was.

Reno was still. Reeve suspected that he didn't even have it in him to fight anymore, if Tseng seemed inclined to continue. Even his lips were white.

Tseng had one hand on Reno's chest while the other hand gripped both of Reno's wrists.

"Reno?" he said.

Reno allowed himself a sigh of relief. "Yes, sir."

"This is not an attempt on your life," Tseng said. "Stop fighting. I took them both out."

"Yes, sir." A pause. No one moved. "Tseng, sir..."

Tseng hesitated, looked up to the ceiling, then looked back at Reno and gave him a shake. Reeve heard Reno's head hit the floor with a sharp crack. "That's not right," Tseng said.

"Oh, ah" Reno began. He thought frantically for a moment. For some reason, he seemed to have a kind of revelation just then. He composed himself and said, "They're from SOLDIER. They're ShinRa."

"Yes, I know," Tseng said. "I'm from ShinRa, too."

"Shit," Reno said.

Reeve looked at Rude and Elena to see if they knew what the hell was going on. Elena still seemed to be confused, but Rude looked as if he had just understood something. Reeve was about to ask him what it was, but Rude shook his head and motioned for him to be quiet.

"I think I have...I think I have a job for you, Mr. Callaghan," Tseng said. "Are you interested?"

Then Reno came out with something that made Reeve wonder if he was dreaming the whole incident. "Sorry, commander," he said, "I don't go that way. Try third street."

Tseng laughed, and leaned closer to Reno. "They're going to kill you anyway. But you're free to go."

"Wait," Reno said. "I guess it won't hurt to listen. But make it quick."

"Good," Tseng said. "Because I...I can help you. I can help you help yourself."

Then he stood up, swayed, and fell onto the floor.

Reno groaned. Elena and Rude went to help him up.

"Good thing about your memory, Reno," Rude said.

He and Elena each offered him a hand, which he at first ignored. "This," he said.

"Come on, Reno," Elena said.

"This SUCKS!" Reno shouted. He pulled himself to his feet without help. "Oh," he said, when he saw Reeve. Then he sank to the bed with his head in his hands.

"Look," Reeve said quickly, "Reno, I know all about what happened."

"Yeah," Reno said. "Yeah, we've been here before, too. Sorry for blowing up your city."

Elena sat beside him on the bed and put her arm around him. Rude put his hand on Reno's shoulder, and looked Reeve over sadly. He looked oddly helpless. Then he moved to where Tseng was lying on the floor, checked his pulse, and set about tying his hands again.

Reeve stood in stunned silence, numbly looking over the four Turks. He'd never thought he'd see them like this, and he'd certainly never expected to see Reno cry.


The boy wasn't head and shoulders above Sephiroth, but he was tall, and his bright hair made him stand out. He was obviously used to the attention, so much so that he probably couldn't go long periods of time without it. He needed it in place of accomplishments. He probably hadn't had too many of those in his life; he looked like a classic underachiever. But everyone was capable of change, and anyway, that look seemed to be slightly feigned. There was something to this kid.

Sephiroth had stopped in front of the kid as he walked past a line of new SOLDIER recruits.

"Name?" Sephiroth said. He leaned elegantly on the hilt of his sword. It was standard SOLDIER issue, and not the Masamune that he only carried on missions.

"Reno, sir."

"One more time. Your name?"

"Oh. Callaghan, sir."

"Mr. Callaghan," Sephiroth said.

From his vantage point on the second story window about the courtyard, Tseng could tell that the general was just about to go into one of his very quiet, occasionally subtle tirades. Tseng had seen him insult people so delicately that they sometimes didn't realize they had been insulted. They would stare at Sephiroth in wonder, amazed that he had even shown them a moment of attention. Sephiroth's wit, Tseng thought, was something like the Masamune: sharp, dangerous, and a work of art. However, in SOLDIER, he rarely had time for subtlety.

"Did you have a mother?" Sephiroth asked the boy.

There was a very slight change in the kid's attitude. He'd gone from nervous to defensive. "Yes, sir. She's dead."

"I wasn't enquiring after her health."

The boy's eyes widened, but not so much in fear or sadness as in surprise. And just a hint of anger. That interested Tseng. This young man had just shown a tiny flash of anger to Sephiroth. "What were you inquiring after?" he asked. Then he added, "Sir," not trying to mask the fact that it had been an afterthought.

Sephiroth didn't have to move a muscle to show displeasure; all he had to do was stare. "I was going to ask you why she failed to teach you to stand up straight, actually," he said. "As most competent mothers teach their children."

None of the other cadets moved or even blinked. Tseng waited. What this kid did next would decide his future.

Sephiroth and the kid stared at each other for just a moment. The kid was the first to look away, and Tseng counted that in his favor. Courage and stupidity were two separate things. Sephiroth looked away from him then, and continued walking. Then the kid did what Tseng had been waiting for him to do.

"Fuck this," he said, and stepped out of the line.

He had no idea that, had Tseng not been interested, this might have been his last day on the beautiful green Planet. People didn't mouth off to ShinRa's general and then walk away from SOLDIER with the little bit of knowledge they had gleaned from ShinRa Inc.

But Tseng had been interested, and when the young man walked out of the courtyard, slouching away in his cadet uniform, Sephiroth hadn't watched him leave. Instead, he'd glanced for a fraction of a second up to the second story window.

Tseng held up his hand. Sephiroth nodded, and went back to his inspection.


"Rudolf," Tseng said, as the Turk passed him in the hallway, "a word with you, if you have a moment."

"Yes, sir," Rude answered, and followed Tseng down the hall to his office.

Once inside, Rude waited for Tseng to motion towards the chair in clear invitation before he sat down. Tseng didn't sit. Instead he paced. It helped him think. It also meant that he was always higher up than the person he was talking to.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your partner, Rude," Tseng said. He looked into the other man's eyes to check for his reaction. There was one. Good. It wouldn't do to for a Turk to become so inured to grief that he forgot how to feel it. Turks were valuable. Heidegger seemed to find them expendable, but Tseng knew their worth, and wanted them to fight always knowing that they had something to lose. "Lotte was a good woman; a good Turk."

"Yes, sir, she was."

"She had a partner. A girlfriend."

"Yes, sir."

"The girlfriend is being provided for."

Rude nodded. He looked as if he wanted to pull his sunglasses down over his eyes, but he didn't. He met Tseng's eyes steadily. "I'm glad," Rude said.

Tseng leaned against his desk. He didn't have to think this over; he knew it was time. Heidegger had been on his case about it for weeks, telling him to just find someone, any punk or reject. Anyone expendable. But Turks were expensive and Tseng felt that they should last. Still, that didn't change the fact that it was time.

"We are the only Turks left right now, Rude," Tseng said.

Rude nodded.

"So you know I have to find you a new partner, and soon."

Again, Tseng waited for a reaction, and again, he saw what he was looking for. Rude clearly wasn't ready for another partner, and that was also good. He had loyalty in his favor.

"I've got a few soldiers lined up, and I want you to go with them to oversee the testing of a potential recruit. I'm sure you know how delicate this operation is, Rude, and I want you to make sure they don't go too far. These men can get clumsy. And I also need you to report to me what you see close-up. The boy has already seen me, I'm afraid, so my surveillance is going to have to be from a distance."

"I understand," Rude said. "Do you have a file on him?"

Tseng smiled slightly. Rude was nothing if not thorough. He wanted to know exactly what he was looking for. Tseng reached behind him to a file simply marked "Reno." He flipped through the pages, then handed it to Rude.

"Reno?" Rude said. "That the kid's name?"

"It'll serve," Tseng said. "He's from Junon. Father was a construction worker and his mother worked for a newspaper. They're both deadhis mother most recentlyand he has no other close relations. He's got an uncle and two cousins, but he barely knows them. He's nineteen years old, and his psych shows nothing too terribly traumatic."

"In other words?"

"In other words, his past seems boring. I think he's strange, Rude, but he's not out of control. And he's smart. He tested really high, especially on analysis. He seems to have a vivid and accurate memory, too."

"Hmm," Rude said, and went back to his perusal of the file. He flipped through a few pages and read a little. "Red hair, six foot two...big kid."

"Scrawny," Tseng said.

Rude went on reading. His brow creased, and Tseng knew that he'd found one of the subtly interesting things in the file. He'd told Rude that the boy's past seemed boring. It was up to Rude to look past the surface. As usual, Rude didn't fail him.

"Identical scars on each side of his face." He looked up at Tseng. "That's not the kind of thing you get accidentally."

Tseng smiled. "That's the good part," he said. "No criminal record. He worked really briefly for a private detective. Surveillance and recon."

"Is that so?"

"It is. No one ever found out who did it to him or why. There are no police records of such an attack."

"Knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"Exactly. If someone was trying to get information from him by doing that, then chances are that they never got it."

Rude slapped the file shut and sat back. "When are we doing this?"

"Tonight. It has to be soon. He can't walk away from ShinRa. He was a SOLDIER cadet until today. Briefly, though. Five days."

"That doesn't sound promising. He get thrown out?"

"He's trying to walk," Tseng said. He couldn't help smiling about it just a little. The young man had no idea what he was getting into just by trying to leave it. But Rude still hadn't heard the best part.

"Just walk? He just walked out?"

"During inspection this morning," Tseng said. "He took a tone with his superioralthough that doesn't quite cover what he actually saidand walked out."

Rude stifled a chuckle. Then Tseng watched his face as he remembered which superior had come down to check new recruits this particular day. His mouth dropped open slightly. After a moment, he also couldn't help smiling.

"Holy shit," Rude said. "What an idiot."


And so, Tseng had set up surveillance from a window above an alley that Reno had to pass through on his way to his apartment. The fact that Reno lived in this particular part of Midgar and got home unscathed every night spoke of some kind of street knowledge, but more than that, it spoke of the message he sent out to others. It was a message that told people who might want to start trouble with him that it wasn't worth it: he wasn't a victim and didn't intend to be. Messing with him would be more trouble than it was worth.

Tseng saw it in his bearing as he entered the alley. He didn't look down. He didn't look either smug or anxious; he just looked aware. Whatever was going on in his mind after having cleared out his personal belongings from ShinRa, Inc. and (or so Reno thought,) left for good, it would wait until he was home.

Two soldiers were in position behind a dumpster. The kid didn't miss their presence, though he didn't see them. He could feel them intuitively. He was walking like a man who is aware that he's being watched.

Rude waited, unseen, in a doorway to an abandoned warehouse. As Reno passed by, Rude opened a switchblade. It made the smallest noise of metal rasping out of its sheath.

Without turning his head, Reno took a sly, sidelong glance to his side. Tseng was thrilled. Reno's hearing was good. His instinct was better.

Tseng felt the warm pull of intuition, and was glad for it. It told him that this boy would not fail his test. He was sure that he was looking at Rude's new partner. Already he was looking forward to training him. He hadn't trained a Turk in so long, and it was such an exultant feeling to watch them reach their potential. To see their surprise when they realized that they could do things they never thought they could do. He felt their joy along with them when they accomplished difficult tasks. He felt their pride when they saw the way their bodies were changing from weak to strong. He felt their astonishment when they realized that they had gained both physical and mental speed, especially in unexpected situations. He felt their fear when they realized that they would kill, and their horror when they realized that they could.

Tseng smiled. All Reno had done was shift his eyes in response to a faint metallic sound, and Tseng already had visions of him in the dark navy suit. He wondered what they boy's weapon would be.

The two soldiers stepped out from behind the dumpster. Reno now looked in the opposite directionagain, only with his eyes. Tseng knew that he was subtly looking for a weapon, but he didn't stop walking. He also didn't flinch away from eye contact with either man. They were strangers to him, and neither of them was in uniform.

They were blocking his path, and Reno veered off to the side, the better to avoid unnecessary confrontation. That was also good. He wasn't looking for trouble.

One of the soldiers stepped in front of him, and that was clearly a challenge.

Reno looked up at the soldier. Tseng could tell he was unused to having to look up at someone, and it occurred to him that he'd better get used to it. Rude towered over all of them.

"'Scuse me," Reno said. He said it without attitude, but he kept eye contact.

Tseng saw him tense his back just a split second before the soldier reached out to grab him. Reno leapt backwards out of reach and darted over towards a plastic bag on the ground. He reached down, bringing his hand in a wide arc (Tseng was aware of the useless expenditure of movement; he would work with him on that,) and came up with a glass bottle that had been behind the bag.

What made Tseng even gladder was that he didn't brandish it. Most people, when cornered, brandished their weapons, sometimes even announcing them: "I've got a knife!" or "I've got a gun!" or "I've got Materia!" In his head, Tseng heard the assailant's answering voice: "Yeah? Well now I've got it." But this boy held the bottle by the neck and turned around to run the other way. He was running for the street, where there might be witnesses.

Rude stepped out in front of him. Reno didn't lose any points for not having been prepared for that. Rude was a fully trained Turk and Reno was a smart kid with no training. He tried to duck under Rude's arm but was too slow. Rude could be eerily fast for his size. He grabbed Reno by the neck, but didn't hold him. Instead, he pushed him down to the ground.

Reno tried to get his feet under him as quickly as he could, but the two soldiers were bearing down on him quickly. He rolled out of the way (the soldiers, who were both ready for this move, let him do that,) and got up.

All three of his assailants came at him quickly. Reno smashed the bottle on the wall behind himthere was no use in pretending that he didn't have a weapon at this pointand then brought it around in front of him.

He showed no hesitation about slashing with it, but Tseng was surprised and a little annoyed to see that Reno had twirled it in his hand once before swinging it. That was a stupid thing to do. Tseng was slightly impressed that he had done it so fluidly, but it didn't change the fact that it was a wasteful gesture.

The first soldier grabbed Reno's wrist and twisted his hand so that the broken bottle fell out of it. Tseng could see that the soldier was bleeding from his hand; Reno had at least drawn blood. First blood, no less. Reno dropped the bottle and kicked. He went right for the groin. That failing, he straightened the fingers of his free hand, and went for the soldier's eye. He missed by a fraction of an inch, and did manage to make the man lose his grip on Reno's wrist.

Reno hadn't yet noticed that these men hadn't hurt himthey had only disarmed him, while Rude stood behind them, watching. But it was wise to assume that people wanted to hurt you if they cornered you in an alley and pushed you around. Reno had no reason to believe that his life wasn't in danger.

Reno was trying to run, but the other soldier circled around to his front, balanced his weight in a fighting stance, and took a swing at him. It split his lip and Reno stumbled. He looked up from behind a curtain of straggly red hair. Tseng had recognized the soldier's move from his ShinRa training. Reno had, as well. It clearly marked Reno's assailant as a Soldier. Tseng saw revelation in his eyes, followed by fear.

"Oh, shit," Reno whispered.

It was his moment of distraction, and he didn't hear the soldier behind him. The soldier pushed Reno, meaning to make him fall to the ground again. Reno, though taken by surprise, still reacted quickly enough to save himself the fall. He landed on top of the soldier who was in front of him. The soldier fell with him, and started screaming.

Tseng couldn't see what was happening, but when the second soldier pulled Reno off, he could venture a guess. Reno already had blood around his mouth from his split lip, but now the soldier had blood on his arm.

"Bastard!" the soldier screamed, as he got to his feet.

The soldier behind Reno grabbed his arms and held them back, while the other one stood up, accessed his materia, and hit Reno with Ice. The sound of it was terrible, like icicles splintering his bones.

Rude shouted, "That's enough!" but as Reno fell, the soldier got back into his fighting stance and elbowed Reno in the chest. Tseng heard the unmistakable sound of bones splintering.

"Enough!" Rude said again, as he pulled the soldier away. The one who'd been holding Reno still let him drop. Tseng didn't have to see any more. He slid out of the window and climbed down the fire ladder. From the alley below, he could hear the soldier saying, "Bastard bit me! Bastard bit me!" Then he heard Rude throw the soldier to the ground.

Tseng landed silently and walked over to the scene. The soldier who had been holding Reno quickly looked away from him. The one whom Reno had bitten was on the ground, nursing his bleeding arm. Rude nodded to Tseng, knowing that he had seen the whole thing.

"Thank you, Rude, for calling them off. Apparently they're not good at following orders." He turned his attention to the bitten soldier, who had gotten up. He looked like a sulking bully who'd finally been pushed down on the playground, and Tseng had to wonder why he'd volunteered for this job of roughing up some stranger.

"Bastard bit me!" he said.

Tseng was easily the fastest Turk ShinRa had ever had, and he had stepped over Reno, grabbed the soldier by the throat and pinned him against the wall before anyone had time to react. "What part of my orders was unclear?" he asked.

He let the soldier struggle for breath for a minute before letting him drop. Reno was still on the ground, and Tseng walked over to him. As he knelt down beside him, Reno tried to kick and punch him at the same time. Tseng grabbed both of Reno's hands in one of his and put his other hand on Reno's chest, hoping to take the last of the fight out of him by threatening to compound fracture the already broken bones.

It didn't work; Reno thought he was fighting for his life. He had to have figured out by then that ShinRa would probably kill him anyway. He was still trying to kick. He was also still shivering, and Tseng knew that he was likely naturally weak against ice materia, and probably weak with it, too. He would use Ice defensively and probably both absorb and attack with a different element. Tseng's first guess was lightning.

"This is not an attempt on your life," Tseng said. "Stop fighting. You're safe."

Reno groaned and coughed, and blood flew from his lips. He stopped fighting and listened to what Tseng was telling him. "SOLDIER," Reno said. "ShinRa."

"Yes, I know. I'm from ShinRa, too."

"Shit," Reno said, and coughed weakly.

Tseng smiled and tried not to look too threatening. "I think I have a job for you, Mr. Callaghan. Are you interested?"

He saw the boy try to muster the last of his particular brand of smartass dignity. "Sorry, commander, I don't go that way. You could try third street."

Tseng laughed. He had to, because he'd just found his newest Turk and already he was seeing the challenges of training him, along with the accomplishments. He leaned closer to Reno, so that the two soldiers wouldn't hear. "They're going to kill you anyway," he said. He waited for it to sink in. What he'd told Reno was true, and it was out of his control. Once word got to president ShinRa that a SOLDIER cadet had walked out of his training after having learned some of ShinRa's secrets, ShinRa would have him killed.

All at once, Reno looked betrayed, disgusted, and resigned. He still didn't look defeated.

Tseng let his hands go and leaned away from him. "But you're free to go," he said.

"Wait," Reno said. He tried to sit straight up, found that he couldn't, then rolled painfully onto his side and pushed himself up on his palm. "I guess it won't hurt to listen." He wiped the blood from his lips with his free hand and made a point of looking at the soldier he had bitten. He looked back to Tseng defiantly. "But make it quick."

"Good," Tseng said. "Good, young man, because I can help you. I can help you help yourself."