A/N: Chapter Two is here within a week! I amaze myself sometimes. Happy Cloud's Birthday week!

Stupid Things

Oh no I see

A spider web it's tangled up with me

And I lost my head

And thought of all the stupid things I said

Oh no what's this

A spider web and I'm caught in the middle

So I turned to run

The thought of all the stupid things I've done

Reno was a simple man. Who enjoyed the simple things. A good drink. A pack of smokes. Getting his dick sucked. And his job. A job that allowed him the pleasure of acting out his more primal instincts with a fatter paycheck than when he ran the Sector 8 Slums. The suit he sloppily adorned made him a symbol; one which ignited fear in the weak and respect from the vile. Every name in the book thrown at him from the pathetic; fascist, murderer, criminal, assassin, sexist pig from that one chick in Wall Market-which earned a rare laugh- and demon, and he wore each like a medal of honor.

But the job that had once given Reno everything he had worked for in his, then, twenty-eight years of existence on this dying planet, perished when a giant fucking meteor crashed into the city. And when the dust settled, the Turks were obsolete.

No need for shadow enforcers when Shinra had been completely exposed by the flames which ate away at the steel infrastructure- once a marvel in modern technology. And all the people who remained chomped their teeth searching for someone to crucify once the power was out. Now that suit, a symbol of decadence and destruction, became a target. Not that Reno was ever really concerned about any one of those idiots seeking retribution. They were complacent in the same sin-traded the planet for comfortability. Which made their lives easier. Reno played the same game as them, only he did it better. So, whenever one of the overcompensating tough guys demanded the Turk repent or face the wrath of their metal pipe, he taught them redemption was for pussies with no backbone and did it with his fists-and a smile on his face.

But when he ended up in his boss's office- which was now a closet at Healen Lodge- Tseng's black eyes narrowed and was formally reprimanded for his actions...Reno wanted to set the whole damn place on fire. Watching the last of Shinra turn to ash was better than watching everything he worked for become a shell of its former glory.

Still, he stayed. Ate the lecture. Took the "write-up" as if it meant anything. Forced something that would be considered a smile when Tseng reminded him of their new image. The Turks, the four of them left, would aid in the restructuring of the entire company, alongside their fearless president, Rufus Shinra. They would guide the world into the next Age of Technology. Teaming up with former enemies to find renewable sources of energy and paving the way for peace.

And what a crock of shit, Reno thought.

But still, he stayed. Put a tentative downpayment on Rufus' dream. Will give it a few years before he cuts his losses, gathers enough cash, to dip to some beach in the middle of nowhere-living out his days cock buried in some pretty face until his former allies find him and terminate him formally. If they even have the guts anymore.

That was two years ago, he took that bet and has yet to see the payoff. There's no money in charity. And his job was reduced to negotiations with bitchy delivery boys to get supplies or crowd management when the protest would erupt anytime Rufus showed his face- though he was quietly excused from that task when a suspicious lightning storm struck and electrocuted a good portion of people. There's nothing for him anymore. The job he signed up for vanished, and he's pent up with all the heat of a thunderstorm ready to tear apart the sky.

So, there he sat, feet on the small table in this pathetic recreation of Shinra's conference room, surrounded by his comrades. Rude across the table, sitting up straight as he listened to Tseng's blank reminders and updates on the status of the company. Elena somewhere behind him, leaning over a notebook as she scribbled the words of her superior-amateur hour...Turks know better than to put anything in writing. Reno scanned the two-hundred square foot room which seemed to hardly fit the four bodies currently occupying its space. The steel chairs were uncomfortable as he leaned against his. Walls scarcely decorated; faded silk tapestry to the right of Tseng, a map of edge to his left, and the mighty Shinra Logo crudely painted right behind their stone-face leader. The illusion of familiarity. It was a mirage.

"Patrols," Tseng said with a commanding tone, apparently to capture the red-heads wavering attention. "We begin immediately, per the President's request."

And Reno snapped his eyes to the man before him, "What was that now?"

"Our new duties. The Turks are now in charge of patrolling the city limits."

Reno shot his partner a vexed look, which Rude did not return from behind his sunglasses, before turning back to the agitated Tseng. "Patrolling for what?"

"There's been reports of break-ins in the area, drug deals, and other nefarious activities."

"Since when does Shinra give a fuck about dealin'?"

"Since now." Tseng's voice dropped as he narrowed his vacant black eyes at the redhead. But another argument threatened to fall from Reno's taut lips, so he continued. "You've never been one to complain about upholding the law of the land."

"Yeah, when the law ain't stupid," he countered, "Why do we care about how people make a livin'? Not like there's any other way to make money in this shit hole."

Tseng offered him nothing but a listless shrug. "We are looking at the fractured remains of a civilized society. Our President feels this task is beneficial to our efforts in maintaining order-keeping the peace if you will."

And Reno certainly will not. "John Nobody selling dope on the corner is going to dismantle society?" Reno asked incredulously, "Yeah, okay."

"Not just sellin' dope, Reno," Tseng gave an exasperated sigh, "You are listening for any chatter that could be deemed hazardous to our operation. Selling of narcotics funds anarchist groups. The robberies have been putting citizens on edge-made them more untrusting of each other and a danger to themselves. And the orphans have proven to be quite a nuisance. Patrol your designated area for any illegal activities and report your findings back to me ."

Reno rapidly tapped his fingers on the table. Growing up in the slums, he learned few lessons: always check your six, don't make eye contact, and snitches get stitches. Or worse. And he held those lessons like a gun against his chest and they forged his code of dishonor. A code which he took along as he climbed the ladder out of squalor. A code shared amongst the rest of the suits-or so he thought. Drugs, prostitution, petty thief-not even on their radar. They were phantoms. Blended in with their surroundings and neutralize the big fish before they became a problem. Wutaian spies. Extremist groups. Rogue super SOLDIERS with a narcissistic complex. Now, those were the days.

But Reno could also see past the curtain. This wasn't patrolling, This was a vain attempted to make the Turks useful again in the eyes of the population. Patrols? That was for troopers did who couldn't cut it. Sent into designated areas to pretend they had a purpose, then squeal like a pot-belly pig about grandma selling psychedelic mushrooms to the teenagers in the yard. All for a pat on the head and a fucking treat. Like the dogs they were.

And Reno was no one's fucking pet.

"So, I'm a narc now?" he gritted his teeth.

"I'm sorry, Reno, was there a time you weren't a narc?" Tseng coughed through a demeaning chuckle.

And the red-head curled his lips shut. Bit his tongue until he tasted metal and turned bruised knuckles white as he fought through every feral instinct charging through his core. But Tseng just looked on at the younger Turk, with his mocking lips flicked upward like a switchblade as he waited for another disparaging comment. But the chord he struck rattled through Reno's nervous system... and died…

And once the red-head sat firmly in his place, Tseng addressed the rest of the small team. "Any other objections? No? Well, then," he straightened his tie, regaining his composure. "Rude, take the South of Edge, Elena the East. I'll take the West. And Reno...you can have the North. Dismissed."

"Sir!" Rude and Elena said in unison.

All three rose from the chairs-Reno tossing his into the table with a loud clank. Which didn't go unnoticed by Tseng, who squinted at the redhead, but elected to give him one win for the day. How generous. And Reno only returned the favor with a scowl as his boss took the seat at the head of the table. They exchanged a silent look. A flash of a dare in the leader's eyes. And a reluctant, crushing, retreat from his employee. Tseng's been strumming this nerve for two years; and one day, it's going to snap.

But not today. Today, Reno relented. He knew there were worse things in this pathetic world than patrolling for imaginary enemies. And it usually came from Tseng's hand. He glared, instead, at the image ahead of him before taking his leave-

The leader of the Turks at the center of a closet-sized stark white room at the rotting skeleton of a steel table and chairs, they scavaged liked rodents. And behind him

The map of Edge.

The fantastic Shinra symbol in red.

And the tapestry…

Silk the hue of sienna. And patterned with an ink-black snake baring glasgow smile and scarlet fangs, coiled around the feathered corpse of a broken bird. Wings torn. Purple bone gutting from torn skin. And the face. A beak in the midst of a silent scream. And black eyes-empty-staring into Reno like it knew all the codes of honor the Turk shattered in his fists.

"Something else, Reno?" Tseng inquired with a curious tilt of his head.

"Nah," Reno shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the image. "...Sir."

He turned to take his leave and burn his anger with his smokes, but Tseng continued without lifting his eyes from the paperwork in front of him. "Reno, I know I struck a nerve there, but I trust you to use your discretion on what is worthy of my...interest."

The red-head shrugged; this was the closest he was getting to an apology from his superior and he knew when to drop an issue. "Yeah, boss. You got it." Even if it ate him alive.

Reno leaned against the banister on a small balcony overlooking...nothing. Cigarette plugged firmly between his lips, blocking the string of curses he wanted to spill onto the concrete entrance to the lodge. The sun peaked over the horizon and ignited the view of a thick forest with a single dirt path perfect for certain motorcycles. The wind hummed through the lush green leaves and merged with the sound of waterfalls in the distance. The canyon seemed so far removed from civilization. The wildlife overpopulated the humans who found themselves lurking through small paths. That's what they were doing, after all, the five of them. Wandering through this man-made paradise in the middle of nature, searching for a semblance of purpose.

Limbo.

Maybe that's why no one else came back. Once the tower fell and communication went dark, anyone still stupid enough to work for Shinra bailed. Turks, SOLDIER prospects, administrators. Hell, even the cafeteria workers refused the call to return. What else was left for them in the ruins? And who wanted the stigma of working for this company attached to them like a virus? Shinra took full responsibility for the crimes committed against the planet and her children. Acknowledged Sephiroth, the famous War Hero and First class SOLDIER, driven mad with power, caused the chaos. And Rufus Shinra's impassioned speech detailing some of Shinra's crimes against humanity and almost sincere apology did nothing to sway public relations in his favor. He didn't have the same charisma as Scarlet's tits and mouth which spun gold.

Whatever happened to her? Reno thought, ashing the cigarette on a squirrel. If the explosion didn't get her, maybe she blended in with the rest of the wraiths. Though that bitch never really blended in…"

Reno saw some office grunts in the rebuilding of Edge. And all of them averted their eyes. Pretended to not know the red-headed Turk tapping his shoulder with his weapon as he strolled the streets. Denied having any knowledge about the workings of Shinra. He hated them more than the ones who scattered across Gaia. Leaving nothing in their wake. Not even a shadow. At least they accepted they couldn't hide from the glaring truth.

He figured the other Turks took to the wind; and sliced their tongues on their way to ensure all the secrets which laid just below the surface were never whispered from offending mouths. It would be the right thing to do. See nothing, hear nothing, speak nothing. Stay in the shadows, die in the light.

Those words meant something once. But now when they toiled through his head, they were empty glass bottles he wanted to crush in his fist. Turn them into dust and bury them with the rest of Sector 0.

The creak of the door opening cut through the soft silence, and Rude stepped into the afternoon light. Reno didn't acknowledge the taller man as he stood next to him; removing the cigarette from his mouth and blowing all his black regrets into the clear sky.

"Are you trying to piss him off?" Rude asked after a few long seconds.

"I call out bullshit when I see it," the red-head countered, "Tseng's used to it by now."

Rude removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He seemed downtrodden in the recent weeks, and Reno took noticed. Shoulders hung heavy as if tied to slabs of concrete, which he dragged along this battered life.

"You just like hearing the sound of your voice," his partner lamented.

"Are you tellin' me you ain't gotta problem fuckin' around trying to 'find intel' on some jack-off sellin' drugs?"

"At least we're doing something. Sometimes I think you complain for the sake of complaining. And since when do you give a shit about those people?"

"I don't. It's the principle."

"You have principles?"

Reno glared at his partner with indignation. These people have jokes all of sudden and it's at his expense, apparently. He didn't recall putting on clown makeup when he walked out the door-but Rude wasn't laughing. He stared off into the same abyss which had captured Reno. His face blank as he returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, and steadied them with a single gloved finger. He dropped his arms, which hung like nooses. And those slackened shoulders pissed Reno off more than the comments spilling from his partner's mouth. Like he was holding onto something on his back; moments before breaking.

"We owe the planet a great debt," Rude quoted, "That's when the boss said."

"Tsk, we don't owe the planet shit. We just did our jobs."

"Rivers run red with the bloodshed from those just doing their jobs."

Rude finally brought his eyes to Reno-but the red-head looked at him like he sprouted a dick from his forehead. A cross of disgust and intrigue. "Gods, what is with you and the philosophical bullshit, today?"

The bald Turk went to open his mouth but turned away instead and cursed Reno through his disapproving sigh.

"Seriously, you good?" Reno continued, "Heard there's this virus causing fellas' balls to drop off. Need me to check for you?"

"I'm just saying-"

"What happened to everyone?" he bitterly laughed, "What have we done in the last two years? Build a monument? Sat 'round? Jerked off? We listened for chatter on any extremist groups-nothing. We're fuckin' workin' with what's left of AVALANCHE. They really got nothin' else for us? Looking for junkies to fuck with? I ain't some trooper with a small dick who needs to overcompensate. And spare me the lecture on whatever misdeeds have your guilt button pressed. Since when did we have a conscience we needed to settle? Miss me with this bullshit."

It's all a farce, he wanted to conclude, but admitting that would make it real.

Rude didn't react- but Reno was used to his partner's chill demeanor. And he figured Rude was shaking his head at those sharpened words. Both finding each other acting just so typical, it was growing tiresome. And Reno wondered if this distance between them was a side effect of a decade-long partnership or just another nail in the coffin, but they hadn't seen eye to eye in months...and not just with work matters anymore.

Reno flicked his cigarette into the woods. Now he had a pinched nerve in the middle of his back, and his tense shoulders didn't help the subtle throb of frustrating pain from running down his spine. Between Tseng's bullshit and Rude's melancholy, he needed a release in the form of either a fistfight or fucking the life out of someone. And if his calculations were correct, Cloud Strife probably had just loaded up his motorcycle for the first leg of his trip back to Edge. And that's only if he started his trip right after pulling away from Reno's place. Not that he was keeping track, of course.

"I'm gonna go to the gym," Reno announced; he needed to punch something. And Rude silently nodded.

The redhead didn't move immediately, as if waiting for Rude to say something else. But he was met with only the sounds of birds chirping in the breeze and the sway of leaves as they caressed each other like forgotten lovers.

He turned to leave and Rude called out once more, "The times are changing, partner. Either move with the current or drown staying still. Up to you."

Reno halted. Considered the analogy. Felt that pinch in his back grows into a sharp ache right between his shoulder blades.

"Hey Rude, If I want any more of your psychology cliches," he growled, jerking the door open aggressively, "I'll go talk to the barrel of my gun instead." He slammed the door behind him like an exclamation to a point he wasn't sure how to make.