A/N: There is the possibility that this will be part of a mini-series focussing on Elena's early days as a Turk. She'll certainly be picking up a few of those many scars she's mentioned as having in On the Way to a Smile if it does.
Teensiest bit of implied Tseng/Elena because I just can't resist, but blink and you probably wouldn't notice.
It's been a good while since I posted anything (some of you might remember me as absolute_zero88). I'm not nervous at all.
Thank the gods this wasn't a game of strip poker, or she'd be seriously buck naked in the middle of the bar by now. Twice over. Instead, Elena had just gambled and lost her second week of statutory vacation allowance to Reno. If she carried on like this, the next few days spent here in Wutai would be her last vacation in a depressingly long time.
Elbows propped on the table, her gaze did another lap of the bar—the same locals and the same stools, tables and oversized pot plants as the last time she'd looked, none of which felt inclined to enlighten her in the art of winning at poker. They'd be getting bored soon. Knowing Reno, though, he'd be milking his winning streak until some kind of divine intervention… intervened.
The wooden door at the bar's entrance flew open with a bang and two Shinra soldiers barrelled in with a wave of humid heat, lips forming wordless shapes below their visors as they fought for breath. Elena sprang from her stool, body reacting on instinct. Bonus if whatever it was got her out of this poker game she was hopelessly losing.
One of the soldiers neared their table. "So our reports were right! He is here on vacation! We've finally found him! Get the Turks here for back-up!"
Yes! This was it. Finally, a chance to do something of actual importance. She'd already had to forgo the perfect opportunity to take Cloud and Co. earlier because, according to Reno, they were 'on vacation'. Technically they still were, but surely even Reno wouldn't pass up the opportunity to nab Don Corneo? He was always banging on about efficiency. Besides, he'd fleeced enough extra vacation time off her over the past couple of hours to make up for it and then some.
But no. Reno didn't so much as spare a glance at the soldiers, cigarette slanted precariously in the corner of his lips as he considered his hand a little too hard. The handful of other patrons at the bar were gawping at their little blue and navy crowd like they were expecting them to hold up the bar. Wutai and Shinra still didn't really mix even after all these years.
"… What a drag." Reno's voice was a little muffled by his cigarette. It would fall out and make a mess if he wasn't careful.
What a drag? That was a joke, right?
The soldier's mouth opened, and then closed. Elena had been amongst their ranks herself once upon a time, yet it was still odd having a conversation with someone whose eyes were shielded by those helmet visors. "Wh-what was that…?"
Reno's continued dedication to studying his hand to the exclusion of everything else was mind-boggling. Perhaps she should have been taking notes from him on maintaining the perfect poker face. Obviously the soldiers were just as taken aback as she was if their open mouths were anything to go by.
"Right now we're off duty and can't run off to save your butts."
Can't we?
The same soldier shifted his weight awkwardly. "We know you're off duty, but…"
Reno's voice climbed a notch. "If you knew that, then don't bother us! Lookin' at you is makin' me sober."
"But you all have orders from headquarters to look for him too!"
Yes, they did! And now Corneo had fallen into their laps, pretty much wrapped up in a neat bow but none the less repulsive for it, and Reno wasn't in the slightest bit interested. Surely Rude… Elena looked over at him, his name on the tip of her tongue. Or not. Lessons in the art of the perfect poker face would be even better from him than from Reno if his current expression, or lack of it, was any indication.
She looked back at Reno. Nothing.
What was wrong with them?!
"All right, that's it! We'll get him without any help from the Turks, just you see!"
Hang on a minute! Elena reached out a hand but both soldiers scurried out as quickly as they had come, door swinging in their wake. It stopped abruptly, bumping into something on the outside, and one of the pair reappeared, mouth in a tight, lipless pout.
"And don't think that headquarters isn't going to hear about this!"
And the door was swinging again, the sounds of their boots growing quieter as they headed away.
If headquarters came to hear about this, that meant Tseng would come to hear about it. And what was he going to think of her then? Her skin prickled as she envisaged him glaring at her across his glossy desk, disappointment written all over his fine face as he filed her demotion for insubordination.
No way. "Reno, do you think that was really such a good idea!? I mean is that the way a professional, a Turk would act!?"
Reno lifted his head and swivelled on his stool, making a bit of a production of it as if to suggest she should be grateful for his attention. "Elena. Don't misunderstand. A pro isn't someone who sacrifices himself for his job. That's just a fool."
What? Hadn't he been banging on about pros this, pros that all week? And now…?
"Rude…?" She turned to him. Expressionless sunglasses shone back at her. Gods!
Of course they'd stick together. Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Or what if this was some kind of weird, reverse-psychology-style test? She wouldn't have put it past them.
Caught between defying Tseng's orders and looking like an idiot in front of Reno and Rude was not a comfortable place to be. And as far as she could tell, there was only one way to unstick herself. Pull this off, and she'd be golden, right? She'd be following orders and proving to Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum that she had earned her place in the Turks. How hard could it be?
Here goes nothing. "Well, I don't buy that! Goodbye!"
This was not how vacations were supposed to be. Unless you're one of those hippie trekker academic types who thinks slogging it up a mountain to look at a bunch of overweight, constipated-looking statues with more hands than than anyone could possibly know what to do with in Wutai's soupy heat is relaxing.
But Don Corneo had lit an unwelcome little fire under Reno's backside that was driving him through the pines at the base of Da-chao and up the dusty mountain path, Rude keeping pace behind him, like a man on a mission. Two missions, as it turned out. The executive-sanctioned, deal-with-Don-Corneo-mission, and then there was the unofficial but rather more pressing retrieve-Elena-and-make-the-bastard-pay mission.
And the bastard would pay.
Nearing the first statue carved into the pale rock, Reno came to a stop. His shirt was unpleasantly sticky at his back under his jacket, sweat beading a trail down his temple. He was regretting drinking that last beer back at the bar.
What the hell was taking Cloud and his retinue so damn long? Not that he and Rude couldn't handle it, but Corneo was a slippery bastard and there was more at stake than just the official mission. A lot more. But he and Rude would get her back. Probably not in one pristine piece if all the blood and disarray in that basement room under the gong were anything to go by, but two to three pieces would do. She was a Turk; she'd glue back together just like the rest of them.
Rude glanced at his watch, turning to look back down the path. His solid shoulders were tight, gloved hands flexing. So he was feeling it, too.
Reno shifted his weight, leaning back against the sculpture in the rock for a moment before pushing away again. Not a shred of shade to be had. "She'll give them hell, you know," he offered.
Rude's head turned to the side, his back still to Reno. If his partner had a tail, it would probably be wedged firmly between his legs by now.
So they'd both fucked up a little bit on this one. They had. But like he'd said back at the bar when Elena had charged off after the soldiers in pursuit of Corneo, leaving him and Rude to their vacation, she wasn't a child. She was a fully fledged Turk who could make her own choices. The whole experience would probably be character-building for her in the long run. Why, then, could he not shake the fist that had twisted his chest into his throat when he'd seen the blood—Elena's blood—in that basement?
A movement at the edge of the pines caught his eye.
"You're finally here." Reno looked back down the path, beyond Rude's shoulder. Cloud scratched his spiky head, hard blue eyes not giving anything away. They didn't seem to be in much of a rush to get Godo's sticky-fingered daughter out of Corneo's clutches. The apparent lack of urgency was starting to grate. "We're gonna split into two."
Reno's gaze drifted over Cloud's friends—the hot chick Rude liked, and the ex-Turk who was definitely overdressed for this kind of heat—before settling back onto Cloud. He narrowed his eyes and stared hard. "You do whatever you want. But don't endanger Elena."
Cloud blinked back at him. Man of many words, that one. He even gave Rude a good run for his money on that score. Tifa stepped forward, obviously about to make up for the shortfall in two-way conversation.
"Don't worry," Reno was still glaring at Cloud. It kind of went without saying, but maybe they still needed to hear it. The agreement they'd made not to bother each other still stood as far as he and Rude were concerned. And they were the ones calling the shots around here. "We won't do anything to that girl, Yuffie. For now…"
Tifa visibly relaxed and nodded; that seemed to answer her question.
Reno nodded in return, his feet carrying him into a brisk jog up the trail, Rude a short distance behind until he split off up a fork in the path. They would be baking alive within ten minutes. But there was no other choice. No one messed with the Turks and lived to tell the tale.
Gods, it was a hell of a long way down. Elena's heart was hammering in her chest, pounding its way up her throat and roaring in her ears.
"Elena, don't act so weak."
The words had cut, despite that Reno hadn't held back in expressing his obvious disdain for her ever since she had been promoted. She swallowed, fumbling out another apology as she metered her breathing in an attempt to get her jack-hammering pulse under control. Her tie was dangling, brushing lightly against her cheek as the blood drained to her head. Her battered face—nose, lips, side of her forehead—throbbed nauseatingly under the pressure, and she could feel the tickle of blood running across her skin, a courtesy from Corneo's heavies. Sweat was seeping from every pore, Wutai's humid heat as responsible as the sheer drop below her head. As for the slick, agonisng mess that was her left shoulder blade, the less she thought about that the better.
Yuffie was still struggling violently to her right, her body wriggling as she tugged at her binds. Elena had become deathly still since they had been flipped upside down. It wasn't as if you could trust these bastards to use quality rope or tie it properly—what if something snapped? Or came undone? Then the whole shameful ordeal would meet a messy end with her body splatted alongside the Don's. Even dead and smithereened, she had no desire to exchange bodily fluids with that lech.
"Easy now." Elena blinked, Rude's calm, deep voice cutting through her silent panic. She felt his hands at her left wrist that was closest to him. Looking at him, all she could notice was how unfazed he appeared despite that the tip of his dress shoe was poking over the narrow ledge too many hundreds of feet above secure ground. Gods, she really wasn't cut out for this job. Clearly her colleagues all had balls of steel. And what did she have? Balls of jelly. A snarky little voice in her pounding head added that, technically, even those balls were proverbial.
"Come on, what's taking you so long?! Don't you want to get your materia back?!" Yuffie shrieked from her right. Elena glanced over. Cloud was fussing at her restraints from the opposite ledge, also standing close to the edge. Too close. She blinked back a prod of nausea at the sight.
"How about you tell us where it is and then I get you down?" Cloud mumbled in that sour, low monotone of his.
"Cloud!" Tifa Lockhart. Cloud shrugged and continued his work under that same sullen expression.
Elena's attention jerked back to Rude as the rope on her left wrist fell away and air hit her raw skin. Rude was reaching across her for her other hand, inching out further, when Elena decided it was time to join the steel balls club. Or at least, nudge a foot in the door.
"L-let me." She could have cringed at the weakness in her own voice. Stop it, damn it. Stop shaking. Rude looked at her quizzically. With her freed left hand, she closed her trembling fingers over the hilt of the utility knife Rude was holding. "Y-you can't lean out that far."
Rude hesitated a moment, then gave a nod and relinquished the weapon to her. Elena's fingers were frustratingly stiff, her wrist sore and bleeding after being restrained for so long with her body weight hanging off her binds. But brutish tenacity was one thing she could rely on herself for.
Elena started to saw at the rope on her right wrist, reaching her left arm across her body and twisting in a way that painfully aggravated whatever damage Corneo's lackeys had done to her as they'd wrestled her into submission. Not forgetting her little tumble down the mountainside complete with an invigorating electric shock somewhere amongst it all. She wilfully forced herself to ignore the growing squeeze of fear that the binds on her ankles might not be enough to hold her full weight. As if reading her mind, strong hands closed around her legs.
"You got her, Rude?"
Reno. Elena had almost forgotten about him, but the sound of his voice sent another spear of embarrassment through her.
"Geez! You trying to make a Yuffie pancake here or what? This is so not going well for your materia recovery prospects, soldier boy."
Yuffie was now restrained by one leg only, with Cloud gripping her free ankle in one hand and slicing at the remaining bonds with the other, Tifa holding her by the forearms. To think that Elena, too, had such indignity to look forward to before this was all over. If she didn't go splat first. She grimaced at the thought, the gesture pulling painfully at her split lip.
"Hey, concentrate," Reno snapped. She blinked.
"Sorry, sir." She redoubled her efforts and, suddenly, the rope dropped, twisting and writhing this way and that as it bounced down the body of the statue to the ground many, many feet below.
The knife was eased from her fingers before hands—hands that were fingerlessly gloved and therefore not Rude's, as if that really mattered when suffocating panic was clambering through her body once more—took hold of each of hers. Elena glanced over to see Reno kneeling down beside Rude, bracing his weight. He was effectively holding hands with her. It warmed her a little to feel how tightly he was holding on, pulling her upper body over towards the ledge as Rude worked on the last of her binds. She caught his eye hesitantly, not even bothering to hide how mortified she was. Was that the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth? Bastard. He was probably enjoying this. It would just go to prove his point to Tseng that she wasn't good enough to be in their ranks. Gods damn it all to hell.
And then she was falling. Her senses freaked and she gasped. Her eyes were screwed shut when she felt her weight catch between the hands holding hers, and a firm, stalwart grip on her left leg. To her credit, she did not scream despite that her stomach was still plummeting into oblivion.
Between them, Reno and Rude manoeuvred her smoothly, if a little awkwardly, back onto the ledge and along to where it widened, placing her gently down on her back. Elena scrambled to sit up before her left shoulder blade could take her weight, her head spinning as she moved faster than her body was ready for. But she would take this whole embarrassing affair in her stride. She would even if it killed her. Nothing to see here.
"Whoa, just give yourself a minute," Reno's voice came from behind her, his hands appearing on her shoulders as her upper body wavered. She held back a flinch, hyper aware of how close his hand was to the wound not far below his grip. She was sitting with her legs out in front of her, and only then did she realise that the rope was still stuck to her ankle, partly embedded in the flesh. That would explain the searing soreness just a little.
"We should get going." The words fell out of her mouth as if on automatic, and she reached forward to remove the rope. Rude dropped to his haunches in one fluid motion, his hands coming out to stop hers.
"What's the rush?" Reno squeezed her shoulders twice in quick succession. She could practically hear the glazed look of relaxation on his smug face. "I keep telling you we're on vacation."
Elena stopped, mouth opening and closing in startled, silent protest. If she sat there for too long, she might never get up again.
"These wounds are deep," Rude said quietly, one hand lightly touching the back of her calf. He lifted her trouser leg to take a closer look.
"It's fine, really." Elena tried to sound convincing but couldn't help a wince as Rude brushed his fingers over the rope stuck around her left ankle. But a fuss was the last thing she wanted. "I'll clean it up when we get back to the hotel. Just pull it off."
"Are you sure?" Rude raised his eyebrows above his pristine shades. He couldn't have looked more out of place on Da Chao if he tried.
She wasn't sure in the slightest but she had ground to make up in the unspoken contest of toughness she had decided this was.
She gave a tight nod. The look exchanged between Rude crouching in front of her and Reno hovering behind her didn't escape her notice. She had already decided that screaming, yowling or any other form of complaining was off limits. She would be damned if she would give Reno an excuse to call her weak ever, ever again. Elena bit down on her lower lip and locked her jaw. For good measure, she imagined Tseng was watching; if there was one person she hated to appear as anything other than competent and unbreakably capable in front of, it was their boss.
Rude separated the nylon climbing rope from her skin with the utmost care, the corners of his mouth twitching as she flinched and hissed. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears but she schooled her breath as dots danced across her vision. By the time he had finished, Elena was fighting to refrain from squirming and had broken into a sweat. Although, when the previous episode of sweating had finished and this one had started was anyone's guess.
"Thanks," she mumbled, breathless. All she could think of now was getting back down the godforsaken mountainside with all its godforsaken statues and locking herself away for a much-needed private cry in her hotel room. The pressure building in her chest from a combination of physical pain, humiliation and degradation had exceeded safe levels a good while ago now, and Elena had no desire for an audience when it found a release.
She was stumbling awkwardly to her feet when she felt Reno's hands on her again.
"You sure seem keen on taking the quick way down, yo." His face slid into another one of those smirks, head tipping towards the edge and the vast drop below. Well, that would be one way of achieving the equivalent of evaporating on the spot, which wasn't without a certain appeal. At least she wouldn't feel the painful, repetitive throb of humiliation; she'd be too dead to care.
Something that sounded rather like a sob came from the other side of the statue, and Elena looked across to see Tifa with an arm around Yuffie as they began their careful descent. Yuffie was spouting another tirade of complaints and indignant curses, but her shoulders were shaking beneath Tifa's protective arm. For a moment, Elena felt a tug of envy and tears burned at the backs of her eyes. A breakdown in someone's arms would have been really, really cathartic right now. But she couldn't, not if she ever wanted to look Reno and Rude in the face ever again. And if Tseng came to hear about it, which Reno would make sure he did…
She clenched her jaw and bit back hard on the annoying need to be pathetic, which only made her face ache more and the urge to cry burn even harder. But she was a Turk and Turks were tougher than that. She had never been one to break down in front of others anyway, not just her fellow Turks. For that, she couldn't hold Reno and Rude accountable. The tight lid her pride kept on those sorts of emotions was on her, not them.
And they had come to fetch her in her hour of need. Not everyone could say that about their colleagues, or even their friends. They, the Turks, had actually come to fetch her. But then Reno had reproached her weakness, and the sobering thought occurred to her that they had probably only come to rescue her to save face and complete the mission to find Corneo. Turks were efficient like that.
The descent down Da-chao was slow. But Reno was in a slow mood appropriate to their vacation in warmer climes, so he wasn't inclined to start complaining. And they were still moving faster than he believed Elena ought to have managed with the wounds he knew about; he suspected there were more lurking under her ripped and dishevelled suit if the careful, awkward way she was carrying herself was anything to go by. Tseng wasn't going to be pleased with him for allowing harm to come to the rookie. But that was a matter for later. Later hopefully meaning after their vacation. Shiva, he wasn't exactly pleased with himself, either. As much as he couldn't be arsed being saddled with a rookie, she was sort of growing on him. Sort of.
Elena seemed adamant to avoid a fuss, having waved away his and Rude's offers of assistance as they had started their trek back. The further they got, the more she limped and the more laboured her movements became. They still had a way to go and it would only be a matter of time before she was forced to accept support. There might even have been a way to hurry the process up a bit, if he was clever about it.
Reaching a fork in the path, Elena came to a stop. Her shoulders were heaving from the exertion, her left arm folded across her midsection. Rude was at her elbow, maintaining a watchful distance. He glanced back at Reno, who had been ambling along at the rear.
"Right fork," he supplied. Elena released a breath and nodded in silence, setting off to the right at a slow shuffle, boots scraping on the sandy dirt track. "If I remember correctly, that is. But hey, we're on vacation so I'm game for the scenic route if you are."
Elena stopped. Rude turned to Reno blankly.
"Wh-what?" Elena was looking at him now, her voice barely there but steeped in incredulity all the same. Her bruised and bloodied face was glistening with sweat under Wutai's suffocating sun. Reno's eyes darted mischievously to Rude, whose mouth quirked with disapproval. Okay, so perhaps it was a little tasteless to be teasing the rookie just then. But she would come to appreciate that his expressions of care and affection took many irregular forms.
"Okay, you got me," Reno held his hands up in mock defeat. "We raced up here like our butts were on fire, so I can't really remember."
Reno had to grudgingly acknowledge the small snag of sympathy he felt as he saw her expression sink. She was probably too tired and too sore to even be angry with him. Which made the snag jerk a little harder. He paced up to her, shielding his eyes from the sun as he took in their surroundings.
He dug into his trouser pocket, his fingers rattling a few gil coins. "We could toss for it?"
Elena stared at him, and then finally, finally she gave in. Although, perhaps a little more than he had really bargained for. But that was typical Elena, he was coming to realise—all or nothing.
In almost slow motion, her eyes rolled back in her head and her legs folded.
"Shiva!" Reno darted forward to close his arms under hers as she crumpled bonelessly. Her lower legs resting on the ground with him holding her upper body in a sort of bearhug, he manoeuvred her to the side of the narrow track and sat her down against the bulge of a cheek carved into the rock. Completely out of it, her head lolled. Crouching in front of her, Reno placed gentle hands over her ears and guided her head to rest back against the rock. Her nose and split lip had leaked trails of now dried blood. Bruising was spreading under her eyes and over one of her cheekbones. More dried blood stained the side of her forehead and temple, matting a few strands of her pale hair. She obviously hadn't gone down without a fight. Damn straight she hadn't. A twinge of pride rippled through him.
"Had to happen at some point." And not a moment too soon; the sooner she let them help her, the sooner they could get off this poxy mountain.
Rude was bending over his shoulder to scrutinise Elena's slack face. "That was…"
"Efficient?"
Rude closed his lips for a blank beat. Yeah, he wasn't going to buy that but it was worth a shot.
"Mean."
Straightforward and unflowery; so very Rude.
"Yeah, I know," Reno sighed. "I just thought I'd hurry the process up a bit so we can, you know, get back to enjoying our vacation."
He pressed two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was thready and probably too fast, but there.
"And yes, I know you're thinking something about minds and single tracks, before you say it." He could almost feel the judgemental stare penetrating his back through both his jacket and Rude's sunglasses. "Not that you were going to." Life with Rude was good like that; after so long working with him, he was pretty much fluent in Rude.
"She needs water," Rude said instead. Now probably wasn't an appropriate time to proffer the hip flask tucked inside his jacket for… emergencies.
But Rude was right. "The sooner we get down from here, the better."
He was about to haul Elena up fireman style when an incoherent sound escaped her. A rush of relief washed through him. Relief on Rude's behalf that his partner wasn't going to have to heave her back down the mountainside in the blistering heat, of course. Delegating was one of his favourite things about his position as second-in-command to Tseng.
"Hey." He squeezed her upper arm as she struggled her way back to consciousness. "Snoozing on the job, rookie?"
"Wh-wha?" Her eyes couldn't quite focus. "Where're we?" she slurred. Delirium, or close enough. It would probably have been amusing if it wasn't so unexpectedly concerning.
"Big sunny mountain in Wutai. Lots of statues with chubby cheeks and questionable hand gestures. Ring any bells?" He grimaced, torn between frowning and smiling with an odd need to reassure her. Elena looked at him with dazed bewilderment. There had to be something he could do to ease her obvious discomfort. He slackened the knot of her tie and unbuttoned her collar.
"What're you doing?" she breathed, swatting at him weakly.
He brushed her hand aside. "You're a bit over-baked and need to cool down. We've purged the mountain of perverts, so fret not."
Reno slid a hand between Elena's shoulders and the cheek he'd propped her against, planning on sitting her forward so he could lift her, when her body went stiff as a board and she cried out in obvious pain. Reno retracted his hand, feeling moisture on his fingers.
Blood. What on Gaia?
"Lean forward."
He glanced at Rude, who switched his dark gaze from Reno's bloody hand to his face.
"I'm fine, really." Elena's voice was shaking and a sob caught in her throat. Fine his arse.
"Elena." Her eyes found his, and Reno jerked his head, eyes widening at her. He wasn't messing around, and she appeared to know that well enough to reluctantly do as she was told, slowly moving her torso forward, face tight with pain.
Now that he was looking for it, a dark area about twice the size of his palm on the back of her left shoulder was more obvious. How had they missed that? She was pretty messed up, granted, but he should have noticed. It was his job to notice. On closer inspection, the fabric of her jacket was torn, scorched and damp with blood.
"Shit, Elena." His fingers grazed over the stiff edges of the tear. Definitely burnt.
"A Bolt spell." She sounded guilty as hell. But why hadn't she said anything? Stupid question. This tough guy—girl—act was beginning to get on his nerves. He could've strangled her if he didn't feel so weirdly sorry for her.
"You should have said something." She flinched at his tone. "Looks like you got fried good and proper." She was lucky to even have survived, damn it. It could still kill her if it had messed with her heart rhythm. And she damn well knew that.
"I did," she said. Reno looked from her back to her face. "Get fried good and proper. Didn't I?"
"Yeah, it looks that way." Bolt2, maybe even Bolt3 at a guess. No wonder she looked like she'd had the stuffing knocked out of her. "But you're gonna be fine. Eventually." Either way, there was nothing they could do about it now.
For a brief moment, vulnerability was laid bare in her glassy, tired eyes. She was afraid. Of course she was. He blinked and the moment was near enough gone as she visibly fought to maintain her composure.
When Reno made to lift her, she was adamant that she could walk—like Odin she could—but Reno decided it suited him and Rude just fine not to have to carry her so, positioning themselves either side of her, the two Turks hoisted her up into a standing position between them with her arms draped across each of their shoulders. Rude had to stoop quite a bit. Fifty gil said he wouldn't complain until he sat down to a cold beer later. Bets made by Reno with Reno were the best kind; it kept the gil circulating where he could see it and spend it on the finer things in life. Like cold beers and sunny vacations.
"Don't bleed on my suit, yo." He shifted her so that he had a comfortable grip.
"Sorry, sir." She was breathless and slurring, and sounded so earnest that he had to stifle a cringe.
"That was a joke."
"… Oh." The apology in her tone had Rude ducking his head forward and directing a lingering, reproachful glance in Reno's direction. Since when had his partner started siding with the rookie, anyway?
He let Rude's silent chastisement slide over him, but it caught a nerve somewhere and he broke eye contact, pretending to be interested in a bird squawking above them. The status quo in their little group of undesirables was changing, just as he'd known it would the moment Tseng entered the Turks' lounge with blondie here in tow. Perhaps he ought to childishly deposit Elena in front of Tseng, bruised and bleeding and barely the right side of conscious, and tell him that he had no need for a rookie and that he could take her back. Then things could go back to the way they were.
Except he couldn't, and they wouldn't—go back to the way they were, that was. Elena was part of them now.
His fingers tightened on her wrist, mindful to avoid the rope wound, and so the trio continued their ungainly way down the mountain at a blessedly quicker pace than before. Reno suspected Elena was only clinging onto consciousness by sheer force of will. She was uncharacteristically quiet, save for the occasional hiss of pain as he and Rude steered her along, taking most of her weight between them.
They were just entering the blissful shade of the pine trees at the foot of the mountain when her body sagged and she passed out again.
"Did well to get this far, rookie," Reno muttered, unhooking her arm from around his neck. He shot a look at Rude. "Don't tell her I said that."
Rude gave no indication of having heard his partner, and instead bent lower to sweep his free arm behind Elena's legs and lifted her. He hefted her a couple of times in his arms, eventually finding a comfortable position, her limp limbs dangling. But there was a quiet affection in the way the bald Turk cradled her against his chest, when tossing her over his shoulders would have been the easier, more practical option. So his wasn't the only heart softening towards the rookie. But then, he'd seen it in Rude's lost expression when they realised Corneo had taken her, in the way her name had fallen from his lips as the reality of it hit. Shiva, Reno had even surprised himself when he'd told Cloud and his buddies not to do anything that would endanger Elena, beset by an odd sense of muted panic.
Obviously they were both going soft. He knew having a woman in the Turks after all this time would be a bad influence. And to think Tseng had been worried about Reno's influence on her.
He glanced sideways at Elena, safely gathered in Rude's arms. Blood from where the rope had cut into her wrist was trailing down the hand that was dangling away from her body, dripping off one of her fingers. Gods, she was a mess. His mess. Their mess.
Elena was theirs, after all.