Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII does not belong to me. It, along with all associated materials, belongs to Square and Enix. The song "Metal Heart" belongs to Garbage.

Metal Heart
By: Nanaki BH

The room reeked of alcohol. It wasn't Rude's fault. Reno was the one drunk and coked up, passed out on the floor. There was the possibility he wasn't unconscious at all though. It was just odd for him to be so quiet. He might as well have been. He was lying on the floor, idly watching cartoons which must have seemed like serious dramas in his bloodshot eyes. He was expressionless, almost docile looking. Some stray strands of red hair fell in front of his eyes but he didn't move to push them away. He didn't even blink. It was odd for him to be so calm, Rude thought.

Reno sniffled and coughed quietly. His nose felt raw. His eyes were watering... perhaps he'd been crying. The cartoon people with happy faces disappeared and were suddenly replaced with the disinterested stares of new reporters; the Shinra News. "These people don't know shit," he muttered. He listened anyway. It had been a long time after all, since the Shinra News had last interrupted a show; let alone his favorite Saturday night cartoons. Geostigma, they said; something about a cure. "That's impossible," he said. "There is no cure. Bunch o' bull." He weakly threw an empty beer can at the television set. "Bullshit." They kept talking their nonsense; their lies that were made to keep the people calm.

"Why don't you just turn it off if it bothers you?" Reno rolled over to regard his partner blankly. It was as though Rude's suggestion was the most asinine thing Reno had ever heard. He huffed in feigned annoyance and rolled over again to listen to the reporters.

They started showing video footage of Healin Lodge. Reno grinned, feeling clever because he was currently lying on the floor of a room on the upper floor of the exact same building. They made it look beautiful, like they had managed to film on a day the sun was shining above it. Reno knew it was false advertising. He knew that if he stood up and walked to the window the dark night would greet him with an ominous grey sky. They're liars, he thought. This place is death.

Rude liked Reno on cocaine. He was jumpy, a little anxious, but always a lot of fun. He knew there would be trouble when Reno started mixing drugs. It didn't matter how low grade they were. Certain ones just didn't go well together, no matter how cheap they were. "Yo, Reno," he said to get his attention. His partner snorted, rolling over to his other side again. "If you're thinking of drinking next time, go with marijuana instead." Rude had only drank a few himself, but he was nowhere near as wasted as his pitiful friend.

Reno may have looked tired, but Rude knew there was still a lot going on behind his eyes. It was unnerving the way he stared at him. There was no telling what he was thinking. He was expressionless and too uncharacteristically calm. All of a sudden he found himself feeling inexplicably uncomfortable. He suddenly realized the TV was still on. When had he stopped hearing it? The cartoons were back and Reno hadn't even noticed for himself. He should have noticed. "Reno?" he muttered warily. He would have taken him by the shoulders and shaken him if he hadn't known he was so far gone.

"Rude," he said softly, lowering his eyes. He sat up; his legs were tucked underneath himself, his hands folded neatly in his lap. "Rude, listen."

He raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

"I... miss him."

He was undoubtedly speaking of Rufus. There was no way of telling if the expression on his face was genuine sadness or alcohol though. He'd seen his friend sad before. Their job occasionally got him depressed. But he had pills for that. His latest concern was Rufus. He watched him as he struggled to protect their president from the devil known as Geostigma and failed again and again. And there he sat before him, hopeless and missing a man that wasn't even gone.

"He's going to be fine," he said reassuringly. He got up from the couch and came to kneel in front of him. Gently, he put a hand to his shoulder.

Reno jerked away instinctively, lowering his head to the floor, linking his fingers at the back of his neck. "No," he whispered adamantly. "No he isn't, Rude." His voice cracked. "That's all they keep saying and all they say are lies."

The people on the news, paid by Shinra. Rude took a deep breath, silently conceding. He was right. He didn't know what else to say. The hopelessness of the situation was beyond him. Did Rufus believe the lies now? Was that what was breaking Reno?

Rude removed his sunglasses, slipping them into a pocket hidden in his jacket. He rubbed his eyes, wondering briefly what he should do about his friend. "Reno," he said — no response. He refused a sigh. He didn't dare sound bothered; not with him like that. "Reno, he's only going to die if you lose faith in him." It wasn't the best choice of words, but it picked Reno's head off the ground.

"But it's not me," he insisted. "He's the one who's given up!" Tears appeared in his eyes, but they did not fall. A breath was drawn to his lungs and was hesitant to leave. He turned away.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is he giving up?"

He looked away again, tears still glistening on his eyelashes. "I don't know. I guess he's had enough."

Rude wasn't typically a man of condolences, but he could still recognize Reno's need for comfort. Feeling a little ridiculous, he leaned forward to wrap his arms around the grieving redhead. "You're the only person who would mourn his death, you know."

Reno propped his chin up on his shoulder, eyes staring blankly ahead at the wall. He heard him sniffle, felt his soft hair as he pressed their cheeks together. He didn't see the tears fall until their lips met.

He practically hit him. It was a shove at most, but to Reno is was a full-force punch. He fell back on the wood floor. Messy hair fell across his face, but the rest of him was kept tight. His whole body, his chin and his knees, met at his chest as he curled up. His arms, like shields, conveniently obscured his face.

His friend found it hard to call himself such at the time. But he wasn't flat out drunk like Reno. He knew it wasn't right. But he sat there and watched his anguish, as his shoulders shook, as the suffering collected in his chest and ravaged his heart. It was a disgraceful sight that reminded him that not all things in life are as they want them to be.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked softly.

He was silent.

Rude stared at him from across the floor, waiting for him to reply. There was no response; the least he expected was an apology. Perhaps Reno needed some encouragement. "Fine," he said standing, "are going to get up?" Reno ignored the subtle encouragement.

"I'm sorry, Rude," Reno said pushing himself up off the floor. "I didn't mean to… I mean… well…" He groaned hopelessly and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Clearly, Reno was sorry and aware that he did it on compulsion but that didn't make punching him right. He put an arm around Reno's waist and helped him back to the couch. Rude knew why he was annoyed with his aibo. He wasn't acting like himself – and it wasn't the drugs. Lately, he'd been whining nonstop about Rufus's condition; about how he wasn't improving. And like every other Shinra employee, his heart went out to Rufus. Nobody wanted to see the company live if Rufus didn't which made them hope for an even quicker recovery that much more.

He looked at him, searching for hope in his eyes. After seeing that Geostigma indiscriminately took lives (adults and children alike) Reno feared that Rufus would never come back to him alive. Likewise, if Rufus were to die, Rude feared he would lose them both.

"Go to him," he said. The words escaped his lips without ever passing his mind.

Reno, looking very much like a man who had stepped in from the rain, picked up his head languidly to question his partner. "Go…? To Rufus?"

"Yeah, it's okay," he said, ruffling his red spiky hair. "Go. Run to him. He needs you now. Even a glimpse of you is like a gift to that man. Make his day." Make his life, he thought.

"But I'm drunk." Reno: The King of Obvious… at least when he was intoxicated. "Why would he want to see me like this? He probably wouldn't even care to see me when I'm sober. Not now…"

"That's the alcohol talking, Reno. I know you aren't the kind to get violent or anything. Just go see him."

Reno stood with no question. Instead, he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around him. There were no words exchanged and the embrace was not returned. It was a simple thanks that required no response.

"I don't know how you deal with me," Reno muttered quietly.

"I don't know either." He eased himself away from Reno's hold so he could look him over before he left. He straightened the glasses on his forehead and touched up his hair. Then gently, he patted down his suit in a feeble attempt to remove some wrinkles. It was impossible to fix up Reno. When it came to being presentable, Reno was a nightmare. But was he ever presentable? Why try, right?

Though, after the pat-down, Rude received a blank stare; he assumed Reno would have jumped for the door. "What are you waiting for?" Rude asked, playfully reprimanding him with a gentle push to the shoulder. "Get going!"

Reno grinned. "Why, Rude, it almost sounds like you want to get rid of me."

His friend gritted his teeth. "You know that's not what I'm saying, you ass! Get outta here!" A strict finger was shoved past Reno's face in the direction of the door.

With no further to do, Reno headed (more like drunkenly staggered) for the door. When he reached the door he stood there for a moment, his fingers lingering on the doorknob. After a while, Rude began to worry that Reno had perhaps reconsidered. Reno tilted his head back, eyes closed. There was a slight gasp and Rude knew his aibo was crying.

He turned around. "Really," he said, "thank you!"

"Reno," he laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't even do anything. Just get out of here."

Reno smiled (something rare those days) and finally let himself out. Rude watched him leave with his own mild smile. And even though he had already left, he whispered a soft "Good luck".

The young Turk began his run down the hall, stopped midway, and looked behind him. "I've… wait…? What room did I just come from?" He scratched his chin thoughtfully and contemplated it for a moment. "Back there?" he wondered, pointing to his left. "Or maybe…" He looked to his right down the long, seemingly endless dark, dimly lit hall. Hopelessness sunk into his chest. He swallowed, fearing that he would never find Rufus in his state of distraction.

"No." He closed his eyes and thought. "I know where he is." He opened his eyes and the path was set out before him, clear in his mind.

Rufus…

Author's Notes: Angst. Really, I hope that was okay. It got effed up when I passed it through my networking and I had to gather it all back from old files, notebooks, and printed papers. It's not that often that you hear about "crack-addict Reno" anymore. It was a popular stereotype of him long ago and it went extinct. I kind of missed it; hence the fic.

I hope you enjoyed it! Since that was number nine for 30kisses, you'll be sure to hear from number ten pretty soon! And, because this fic kind of sounded incomplete to me, I may or may not make a sequal for it. Tell me what you think about that...