Disclaimers: Final Fantasy VII © under Square-Enix, as well all other Final Fantasy references. Everything else under their respective owners
Through Forest and Grove
Jason M. Lee
Chapter 9: That Which I Fight...
"BP 85/35. Radial pulse weak but present. 1, 2, 3, up."
'Why?'
"Clean shot? I feel a broken rib. Set up an IV and someone set up a chest tube."
'Not again...'
"I don't see an exit wound. Might have gotten lodged in there." A high-pitched wail. "SHIT! She's going into shock."Organized chaos. People acting as if no leadership but all are playing their parts with an air of practiced ease. Nurses and paramedics danced around each other, sometimes looking about to drop the precious equipment yet never spilling the necessities.
"BP's dropping. Going into cardiac arrest."
'It wasn't supposed to happen this way.'
"Crash cart. Starting 200 joules."
A flurry of white coats, blue and green scrubs blurring alongside. Gurneys and cart wheels squeaking as the Trauma Center and ER kicking into high gear. The overpowering smell of antibiotics and anesthesia. Sickness blending with a multitude of chemicals, causing the most sensitive of noses a hell of a time.
"Setting 200, set."
Arguing, cries, yells, clicks, everything slowly became muted.
"Clear."
Honey eyes sparked angrily, wine orbs nearby widening in surprise. She had never seen her friend lose his composure, not even when he was threatened.
"Again. Going for 260 joules."
"Find some way to keep them under control and keep searching! Don't argue with me, Elena. THAT'S AN ORDER!" Fingers nearly crushing a black PHS from stress and bottled anger. Even his mechanical alter ego was in disbelief.
"260, set."
'I don't want it...'
"Clear."
Unnatural navy azure and crimson watched dimming aquamarine with worry and tension.
"We're loosing her!"
'I don't want to fall alone anymore...'
x x x x x x x
/"Son of a bitch! That moron is SO asking for a good ass kicking when I get my hands on him!"/
Reno laughed dryly into his mike, listening to his fiancée's ranting over the radio waves.
"Get in line, princess. A lot of us have dibs." A flicker that would've been easily missed by normal human eyes. "Spike, three o'clock! Above!"
An Ice3 was what the thug got for his efforts, specially powered with the rain. Cloud gave a wave before he disappeared further into the darkness.
A sigh briefly escaped the redhead, ignoring the trickling wetness. Almost immediately, he frowned, grip on the EMR tightening as he continued the hunt. The burning adrenaline was singing in his blood, shoes tapping close to a matched heartbeat. In a funny way, it kinda felt good to be back on the streets tracking down targets and dishing out electrical pain.
The main reason why Reeve called nearly everyone back to Midgar was that one of Don Corneo's second-in-commands began what could be a little coup. Not so much a full blown revolution since it was easily handled by the Midgar PD at the beginning. Now, the guy was causing enough trouble that not even the remaining Troopers, Soldiers and local law enforcement could handle. Started in Sector5 slums, now moved to Sector 2 slums as one would find more men willing to fight just anything for a price.
Police dossiers showed the man's name as Worden Nente, originally heading one of the larger groups that was involved with a major gang war in Sector 4 several years earlier. Beady, dark and narrow eyes with a lanky frame belayed the anger and hatred at the loss of the Hyenas in his mug shot. The conglomerate was taken down by a then much younger Reno sometime after his Turk initiation. After Worden got out of jail, he started working under Corneo and everything else was history. Following the death of the fat man, most of the second-in-commands went into hiding until now.
He tapped the transmitter twice. "Rude, 'Laney, report."
/"Rude here. Some problems..."/ Muffled yells of horror as several Quake2's were calmly cast, tossed in with those using Bolt2. /"...taken care of. Over."/
"Good. 'Laney?"
Sounds of automatics echoed over the line. /"Ah, taking heavy fire here but under control! Talk to you later! Over!"/
A crimson eyebrow raised. "Huh, guess she's getting better. How's the weather up there, Highwind?"
/"Ain't no military or top Elites like you guys but if this storm kicks up any more, we're both gonna have ta pull out. This is one of the worst I've ever seen, even Reeve's worried by the weather reports."/ Cid barked an order that was lost when the signal almost disappeared. /"Looks like the little bugger's headin' toward the Sister Ray with several vans or trucks. Got a bunch of thugs with him, 'cept those vehicles reminds me of those used by SOLDIER."/
"Anything out of place?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. Scarlet and Heidegger's annoying laughs still rang quite loudly.
/"Can't really tell from up 'ere. Save the fact that the idiot's looks like he's got plenty of machine guns. All I know that they're nasty lookin'."/
"Cool. Watch yourselves up there."
/"Ha! You better watch yerself, or the brat's gonna find a way to kick yer ass. Over and out."/
Shaking his head, Reno stealthily headed toward his next target, a young man crouching under a fallen awning across the street. The gun tucked into the waistband dissuaded any concept of a regular Slum, as well the better quality of clothing choice. Thankfully, the lack of street lights and dark weather worked toward the redhead's favor, giving him excellent cover. When he was almost on top of the man, Reno smirked, long digits fingering the mastered Materia in the slots. Thoughts concentrated on the electrifying energy, envisioning lightning strikes during a huge storm (and of being electrocuted before). As the glow of the Magic Materia fully intensified, the red-haired Turk let loose the built up energy with a muttered "Bolt3".
Using Materia wasn't as simple as yelling out the command, namely the Magic and Summon types. One had to imagine up the effect as close to possible, concentrating only on that particular spell. If it was a Fire for example, thoughts of a bon fire would be a lot more effective a lit match. The Restore tended to be a little more tricky, requiring the user to think of putting the wound back together, as if assembling a puzzle. Using the Heal Materia was almost as bad if one need to figure out how to imagine getting rid of status ailments with Esuna.
A person invokes the wisdom of the Ancients held inside the Materia by using it as a focal point to channel his or her mana. In a way, like using a magnifying glass to focus the sun's rays into one spot to start a fire. The better knowledge the user has of the Ancients, the stronger the outcome. In some cases, it depends on the body of the one utilizing the condensed Mako.
A loud scream and a sizzling sound brought a satisfied fanged grin onto Reno's face. Eyes now able to see much more clearly through the light rain saw a twitching form, still emitting some sparks.
'Man, haven't done that in a long while. Glad there's rain and other stuff or the smell would really get to me.'
/"Turkey!"/
He winced, forgetting that his hearing was now much more sensitive. His little brother was probably rubbing his ears as well, wherever the spiky blonde is.
"What now, princess? You running into problems?"
A low growl. /"Bad enough when you have a group of ahou running around that think more with their pants than their brains. You want first dibs on this Worddy guy, then move your ass over here. Mazon and Linden. I don't know how but its like they've got their hands on some weapons that look like they raided the SOLDIER armory. There's what looks similar to Vinnie's Death Penalty but it could probably give Barett's Missing Score a run for its money."/
Reno frowned, dodging and leaping over debris like it was another day at the park. That wasn't in the files, as Don Corneo never had any real access to high powered equipment. Even if he did, the old ShinRa would've sent the Turks down on the fat man long ago.
"Is there a van or truck nearby?"
/"Little bastard!"/ she mumbled softly. /"Sorry, not you. Yeah, three of those black truck types. I took a peek and there's also enough goodies to take over Kalm if they're not too stupid. How much further are you?"/
Childhood memories turned into a map of covering Sector 2 inside his mind, calculations running at high speeds. While Sector 4 was his birthplace and foremerhome, the redhead often snuck into the neighboring Sectors to scavenge what he could find from junk yards. Everything else were from past assignments in other areas, mainly filed away thanks to a blessed photographic memory.
"Five minutes, maybe three. Don't pull any stunts until I get there, princess."
/"No promises, Turkey."/
"No promises, she says," he repeated, leaping clear of a fallen I-beam. "Like when she said she wouldn't speak of the time when I challenged Valentine to a drinking contest..."
Reno had just barely made it behind a wall when bullets from SOLDIER Mako automatics began pouring like a hail storm. Stronger than a regular Soldier issued gun, the metal projectiles easily turned the nearby dumpster into Nibel cheese.
Waiting for the telltale sounds of empty magazines being dropped, the redhead literally flew out of his hiding spot, promptly electrocuting the first man on sight. Without batting an eye, one hand snapped toward his right, trapping several in translucent-gold pyramids. Dodge rolling to avoid the Mako powered 9mm rounds coming from the SH-WP5s, Reno let looses few from his own Winchester. As Worden's underlings were not used to the strong kickback of the rifles, their slow reflexes cost them the waking world.
A shot from above was responded with a well placed bullet to the shoulder. His "people sensor", as Yuffie gleefully dubbed, was going haywire with the constant buzzing in the back of his head. Whenever Reno sensed someone trying to send him to the next world, his gun arm would automatically pulled the trigger. Never mind that he preferred the EMR to the gun, but half of the shots relied on trick shooting off the scattered debris. That kind of ability either took sheer luck or years to perfect, only which Vincent could match. On the other hand, the redhead wasn't considered an elite Turk of his generation for nothing.
With all his concentration focused on those at and near ground-level, not to mention the rush running through his veins, he had pretty much forgotten about snipers from rooftops. The red-haired Turk had did the one thing ANY fighter employed by ShinRa, SOLDIER or Turk, was never supposed to do.
He had slipped into tunnel vision, listening to nothing else but his heartbeat.
Thus, the saying "highway to hell in a hand basket" comes into play.
The faint sound of a round being chambered.
Pounding feet splashing water from a puddle.
One single click as the hammer dropped.
Another body slamming at full speed.
The booming crack as gunpowder exploded.
An echo of flesh being hit.
Jasmine and iron mixing in the air.
A familiar weight landing against him.
'Brat?'
The roaring of rain in his ears.
'Princess?'
Bright pupils dilated upon recognition.
More thumps of boots slapping asphalt, gunshots being fired.
The heart resonating a constant, slowing pulse.
Stillness.
Wind.
Silence.
Water.
Calling.
"YUFFIE!"
x x x x x x x
From the streets to the hospital in the Upper Plate was a blur. All he could remember were flashing lights, a rushed ride over potholes, and a slightly squeaking gurney as she was wheeled away. Both emergency sections were already a flurry of activity with incoming patients. Even a portion of the waiting room was set up for triage due to the constant flow of victims.
Reno had tried to follow the petite shinobi into the OR but a firm doctor forcefully warn him to stay outside. Protests quickly stopped when the female surgeon told him that this point would be one of the most critical period where the youngest AVALANCHE member would be between life and death. Any sort of disturbances could ruin any chance of survival with the paper-thin line. Blue and green fluttered as the medical practitioner left the red-haired Turk standing in the hallway.
Numbness was the first thing he felt before his fist clenched.
Cloud and Vincent immediately stiffened when the wave of near-consuming ire washed over them. The younger man exchanged a look with the former Turk.
"Reno--" A gloved hand reached out.
"Leave me alone," he snapped, bangs covering his eyes. "Just... leave me alone."
A frown from the elder man as the Turk turned his back. "I advise from taking any ill-fated actions, Reno."
The redhead growled softly, barely noticeable in the din unless one had sharp ears.
"Who said I was gonna fucking pull any stupid stunts?"
With that, he disappeared through the crowd and out the sliding doors.
"You think he's going to do it."
"...I wouldn't put it past him, as a former Turk myself. There's an unspoken rule that a Turk must deliver... correction should one of our own were targeted. If you were in his place, wouldn't you do the same thing had she been shot?"
The blonde pursed his lips, then twisting his head at the sound of Tifa's recognizable boots.
"Holy, where did Reno go!"
Vincent sighed softly. "Heading to the man who pulled this stunt. From the last reports, it seems like Nente is moving toward the Sister Ray."
Garnet orbs held confusion. "Why the abandoned Mako Cannon?"
"Possibly an advantage as a lookout base," Cloud answered, navy eyes darkening. "The height would give the guy close to a full 360 view of who could be coming. If you're smart enough with resources, you can actually live up there for quite a while."
"He's going there without protection? That idiot!"
"What do you mean, Teef?"
Fingerless gloves thrust out a familiar ShinRa Alpha still slotted with Mastered glowing spheres.
"Reno left this in Yuffie's hand!" Her voice cracked with near panic. "The only Materia he has left would be on his EMR and we know how many slots that thing contains! Holy knows that he's going to get himself killed! What are we going to--"
Solid arms wrapped around the martial artist, cutting off her babble. Tifa never really babbled like Elena unless the dark brunette was really close to her wit's end.
As Cloud stepped back from his embrace, he gave a small smile, pressing something else into her calloused hands. With a brief touch of his lips on her forehead, the ex-SOLDIER ran off toward the doors as well.
Blinking, Tifa looked down at what her significant other had given. Burgundy-brown eyes widened in horror when she realized that it was his Escort Guard. A red mantle flickered as fingers normally wielding a gun caught the fighter and gently set her onto a nearby seat.
"Tifa...?"
She looked up at Vincent, now cradling both armor pieces. "He's going to try and stop him."
The ex-Turk closed tired crimson eyes. "Aa."
"Isn't there anything you could...?"
He sensed her trembling voice, near breaking. "Considering their father's origins, there will be some difficulties subduing either one of them. Even if I were to transform into Chaos. Both at the same time would be much more... disastrous."
"So there's nothing we can do?"
A hand gently gripped her shoulder. "Hope."
A cross between a sob and a laugh. "That just sounds weird coming from you."
"I may have lost it long ago but now, it seems I have found it once again."
Tifa hugged the two close to her chest, now calming down. "It just that... There's something I should remember. Reiko gave me a warning but I can't seem to grasp it."
"It will come."
She shook her head. "You don't understand, Vincent. Reiko told me that her warning was extremely important because something might go wrong. I can feel it--something really bad is going to happen."
To that, he stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
As the clock on the wall continued to tick, only barely hours had passed in the span what felt like forever. Finally, one doctor still in greenscrubs and a hastily draped coat approached the dark haired duo.
"Is there anyone for a Ms. Yuffie Kisaragi?" Professional neutrality, although a hint of awe upon meeting two people who had helped saved countless lives.
Tifa shot straight up. "Tifa Lockhart. I'm her friend."
"No family?"
"Her father unfortunately is unavailable for now," Vincent replied softly. "I happen to be a... relative of hers. Vincent Valentine."
He tried not to smile at the surprise on the younger woman's face.
"I'm Doctor Yuna Zanarkand, a specialist regarding with firearm injuries. We ran into a couple complications during the operation." The surgeon wiped her forehead with a handkerchief, eyes nearly bloodshot from the ongoing chaos. "The bullet, one way or another, passed through the fifth right rib actually stopped right at the scapula. Add in the fact that this type of weaponry is Mako enhanced, it gets even trickier had it been in the old days. That would've made the operation much more difficult had there weren't any Restore or Heal Materia on standby."
Fear gripped the brunette's heart. "What are you saying?"
"They had to dig in deep in order to remove the projectile," the marksman translated, experience lacing his words. "Normally, they pass right through the body, even through bone."
The senior resident nodded in approval. "You know your bullets, sir. If we had left it in Ms. Kisaragi any longer, she would've been poisoned by the Mako residue. An average human body can handle tiny amounts of Mako without too many side effects, especially from something of that size. SOLDIER and Turks are exposed it gradually, although there are still various reactions from each person. However, for your friend's case, you have her smaller body, shock, and other factors is what can cause certain difficulties."
'Yuffie!'
An exhausted prayer, fingers scented with latex running through frazzled caramel locks. "We nearly lost her again due to blood loss and from the trauma. We were barely lucky on finding an identical blood type in all this confusion. The injury isn't just focused on entry and exit wound. If you've seen ballistic tests done on gelatin designed to mimic the human body..."
Tifa shook her head.
"...for an easier idea, toss a pebble into a pond and you get ripples. That's the other problem with bullets: like a tsunami after an earthquake (not that I've seen one before). There have been some reported cases where people get shot in the leg and the shockwaves actually killed them."
"But?" The candle flared just a little stronger.
Mismatched blue and green eyes shone brightly, despite the tired smile. "Ms. Kisaragi happens to be one very lucky young lady, praise Phoenix. Only the fifth rib needed to be repaired and a cast was required for her fractured right scapula--shoulder blade--so, we're quite optimistic on her having a full recovery. She had a punctured lung, although the other team were timely on repairing it from any further damage. We were fortunate to have an matching blood donor on hand for an emergency transfusion, despite all of this mess. Also thankfully is the fact that the bullet missed key neural pathways, otherwise it'd be a bigger issue. However, the next 24 hours will be critical. We have her down in the ICU so no visits until she's stabilized. I'd advise you get some rest, Ms. Lockhart. You look dead on your feet. That goes for you as well, sir."
With a farewell pat, the female surgeon walked off to deal with the next incoming patient. At least it wasn't as bad as the aftermath from Meteo; just on a much smaller scale.
The barkeeper had only sat down for a few seconds before jumping straight back up. Eyes wide, she began muttering curses that actually got a raised eyebrow from Vincent.
"Is there something the matter, Tifa?"
"Crap! Now I remember what Reiko told me!"
Black hair whirled as she spun to face him, panic seeping through. In a bold move, dark gloves latched onto scarlet fabric.
"You have to take me to Cloud and Reno!"
"Ti--"
"No time to explain!" With that, Tifa grabbed his hand and bolted down toward an elevator, stuffing the two wrist armors into her jacket.
Reaching the garage, Vincent wasted no time starting up the same Hardy Daytona Cloud had kept. Strong arms wrapped tightly around him.
"You sure you know how to ride these things?" Nervousness. Excitement. Anxiousness.
He tossed back a small smirk, revving the throttle once before quite literally shooting from the third floor on a conveniently placed board. Pouring rain literally slapped into them as he skillfully landed on the nearby highway. They almost hydroplaned from the slick mixture of oil and water but the gunman recovered easily, twisting the steering to correct his mistake.
Tifa silently peered through the dimness, lightning strikes and street lamps providing the only brightness.
'Leviathan... You're worried, aren't you?'
A/N: Medical jargon pulled from watching various documentaries, forgotten 1st Responder (below EMT) classes, and asking a friend who had spent some time in the military and a weapons fan. Med students, if I made any mistake, do point them out.
I'll admit, Tifa was a bit OOC here but it wouldn't have worked out any other way. Same thing with Reno and he's even a bit more difficult.
Materia usage varies between fics. The concept here was one where I thought it would be close to being realistic. On the SH-WP5, they're based off of the M16. In the E32005 trailer of Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core, the ShinRa Soldiers have something similar to that type of gun.
