Chapter Three
A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers! Quick note; chapter four might take a few days to show up, as I've got several HSC major works piling up that are due soon. So apologies, and hopefully it will be up soon.
I don't own any of the following characters/places etc.
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Rude wasted no time in gently arranging Reno on the gritty chopper floor and searching for the light. Tseng switched it on and dropped to his knees at his side, surveying the damage.
The young Turk was literally covered in blood, although Tseng suspected that some of it was not his, and belonged to downed Red Knuckles members. His hair was drenched in it, and further investigation into that revealed an ugly head wound; probably his down fall. He snatched up a cloth and some bandages from an open box at his side and passed them to Rude, and signaled to do what he could for it. More to give him something to do than anything else; the big strong man at his side looked about ready to jump back out of the helicopter and dive back into the building.
Reno's pale face was slick with the blood, but he ignored it for the moment, checking just for any unseen gashes, and, finding none, moved further down to feel at his neck. He found a pulse, weak but steady enough, and was satisfied.
Pulling open his torn jacket and dress shirt, he winced as he revealed Reno's chest; criss crossed with boot sized, forming bruises, and the occasional blade wound. A bullet had grazed his right shoulder, which was bleeding profusely down his side, and another had lodged above his left hip; appearing to be the most dire of his injuries.
Quickly analyzing his second's legs, and deciding that one was almost certainly broken but out of his control, he snatched up a second cloth, and pressed it gently but firmly into the young man's hip wound.
"Thought you said they wouldn't kill him, boss," muttered Rude, glancing up as Tseng dragged across a big first aid kit and rummaged around inside.
"Good thing I was wrong," he answered, sighing. "Or we would have been in the wrong place." Rude winced at that and went back to gently mopping the excess blood off his partner's face.
Tseng set about doing what he could for Reno, but ultimately knew the best thing he could do would be to get him to the infirmary quickly. Rude assisted where he could, but Tseng could see the man's hands faltering, and eventually swatted him away, wrapping padding over his bullet wounds himself. He was almost glad he had something to keep himself busy as well – it was plain unsettling to see the kid so quiet and still. He'd seen Reno sleep whilst on long missions, and he seemed almost to move about more in his slumber than he did when awake. Reno called it 'battling the bed sheets'. Tseng called it 'hyperactivity'.
He sat back eventually, eyeing his work gingerly. It would have to do. Reno still looked like he'd gone bathing in a blood bath, but now red-soaked bandages concealed the worst of his injuries, at any rate.
"Keep him still, and-"
"Plenty of water if he wakes, I know," cut in Rude, evidentially having mastered himself somewhat. He looked across, nodding at Tseng. "Thanks."
"Just doin' my job," he replied, picking up on the other Turk's meaning.
"Endangering the mission?"
"Looking after my own." Rude looked down at Reno at that, and Tseng smiled faintly, despite himself. "Hold tight Reno," he said fondly, climbing to his feet and leaving Rude alone with him. He climbed carefully over the mess of clothes, boxes and equipment that Elena had stacked in the compartment and sank into the passenger chair, offering a weary smile.
"Where the hell did you come from?"
She grinned weakly, glancing over.
"Nice to see you too. I got back early. Just landed in the hanger when you called and got Spencer. I took over. Details?" Tseng nodded, plucking glass from his clothes and wiping his bloodied hands on the rag he found on the floor.
"Got the data. Reno was on surveillance and somehow they found him. We were going back for him when he literally fell onto Rude." He shook his head. "They must have kicked him off the side of the stairs. Can't believe our luck, they practically gave him back to us."
"Is he okay?"
"He's a mess," he sighed, glancing up at the sky as rain began to splatter softly on the windscreen. "I think there's a few broken bones in there, and a nasty head wound. Take us straight to the infirmary."
"Sure thing."
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Rude smoothed back the mattered, damp hair from Reno's face once Tseng had gone, and leant over him, continuing on in his efforts to rid his young partner of the sickening, sticky blood coating his clothes and clammy skin. He hadn't moved or made a sound once, and the silence more than anything else was gnawing a gaping hole in Rude's fragile hold on calm.
They'd both been injured before. Frequently. It was part of the job description. Reno had been shot before, come to that; several times. So had Rude. Fortunately Rufus ShinRa had a talented, skilled team of doctors at his disposal, and generally even bullet wounds were swiftly taken care of.
All the same, grave injuries never lost their shock or fear value. All four of them; Tseng, Elena, Reno and himself, operated as a form of dysfunctional family, given their profession and it's tendency to get in the way of outside relationships. Within weeks of working smoothly together, they became a team in every sense of the word. As Tseng had suggested, their job had eventually and unconsciously shifted aside in importance over the years, to the point where looking out for each other was their primary concern during missions and life.
He smirked a little, rolling his stiff neck. The whole concept had snuck up on him. He hadn't even realized it fully until tonight.
The movement was so minute that Rude almost missed it; perhaps just barely awakened by his lover's touch, Reno swallowed, and his eyelashes fluttered. Rude reached out and took his hand, leaning down.
"Reno?"
He watched with baited breath as the kid shifted again, head lolling slightly to the side as what limited fragments of his conscience that were awake searched for the familiar voice.
"R… Ru," he heard, murmured, and vague, wonderful relief flooded through him.
"Right here partner," he assured, wondering what Reno would say if he could truly see him now; hunched over the redhead like a mother hen. Probably tease him for being a woman and instruct him to grow something more akin to a manhood.
Apparently satisfied however, Reno just exhaled softly and lapsed back into stillness, fingers curled in Rude's hand.
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Elena landed the bird smoothly upon the rain drenched launch pad, peering out through the rain-drop speckled windshield into the black night. Tseng had jumped up as they approached, and now she heard him heave the cargo door open; an icy breeze forcing it's way inside and blowing her hair every which way. She killed the engine and jumped up, determining to help get Reno out first, before putting the helicopter away.
She clambered over the boxes and general mess of equipment in the back, and swallowed at the sight of her friend, covered in blood and limp and motionless on the floor, head pillowed by his torn and ruined jacket. Shaking herself, she hurried to help Tseng shift aside the medical supplies and make a clear path.
Rude smiled tiredly at her in greeting before unfolding his legs and climbing to his feet, gently sliding his arms beneath their injured co-worker and lifting him into the air; limbs and head dangling limply from his arms.
She jumped out ahead of him, shouting back for Tseng to leave the helicopter be, and went on ahead, holding open the thick glass doors for Rude to pass, carrying his burden as if Reno himself was made of glass.
Stepping inside after Tseng, the relative warmth of the infirmary washed over her, and she couldn't fight back a yawn, unable to recall the last time she'd slept.
Nurses sprang up to meet them almost instantly, and Elena recognized Doctor Jettison; the man who'd pieced her back together again once not long ago, when she'd come off worse in a fight with another chopper pilot. In fact the Turks were all almost intimately acquainted with most of the infirmary doctors, she mused, watching as a gurney materialized and was wheeled over, and Rude was persuaded to relinquish his grip on Reno.
Jettison stood by his new patient's head, checking his vitals expertly and running an eye over his prone body. Tseng, at Elena's side, quietly aided his inventory, and she tore her gaze from Reno, watching Rude carefully. He was no push over, and Reno had been in similar scrapes before, but she also knew that her two fellow Turks cared more about each other than either wanted to admit, and probably wouldn't dare to.
"We'll take him to emergency surgury," assured the doctor, glancing at Rude's tense form. "He's in good hands, don't worry. If you care to wait in the lounge area, I'll make sure you are updated."
"Thank you doctor," answered Tseng, eyes on the gurney as Reno was whisked away. Rude almost turned to follow, but Tseng halted him, shaking his head.
"Let them do their job Rude. In the meantime, go with Doctor Metfield and get yourself checked out."
Rude just glanced at the new man in scrubs, and shook his head, flexing.
"I'm fine."
"Rude, Reno is in good hands. I'm telling you to go."
"Tseng, I'm fine," he insisted, frowning. "No injuries, no blood, I'm good."
"Rude, Reno fell on top of you and almost knocked you out on those stairs," reminded Tseng, treating the man with a firm frown of his own. "From that height, the force should probably have broken a rib at the least."
Rude glowered at the reminder, but glanced down at himself, seemingly taking a moment to consider himself for the first time that night.
"Tseng's right, big man," she ventured, lightly touching his arm. "You've got a killer bruise on the back of your head, and from what I've heard, you need to get checked out. Wouldn't do to have Reno wake up and ask for you, only to have us tell him you've neglected yourself and got admitted too."
That did the trick, and she trotted after a reluctant but more agreeable Rude, leaving Tseng to call Rufus and wait for Reno's doctors to emerge with the news.
TBC, please R&R