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39. Rod – Not Quite Betrayer

Rod was aware of people in his peripheral vision. So was Alejandro, apparently.

"Stay back, boys!" he shouted. "This is between me and him."

Rod recognised faces, but not the looks of hatred twisting them. Had he really caused those? The Rage Riders had been angry at the world, hence their name, but not so hateful of it. There was pure malice in their expressions. Alejandro had chosen to join with a bigger gang, but apparently Rod's departure had prompted the decision, which landed him with a portion of the blame.

He shook off the thoughts. Visions of Naifu, strung up like a bloody side of meat, filled his mind. Whatever his personal culpabilities, she hadn't asked for that. Nobody asked to be slowly tortured that way. Until tonight, he never would have thought Alejandro capable of that kind of vindictiveness. Had he ever really known his friend at all? Or had he really caused this change in another person by his own selfish decisions?

"We all wanna piece of him," snarled a boy with hollow eyes and a recent, still-pink jagged scar across his forehead. Rod did a double-take. Was that Suarez? Since when did Suarez know how to handle a flick-knife like a pro?

"Leave off, Suarez," said another boy, confirming the identification. "Alejandro got the bigger claim. We all stay back," he added, raising his voice. "This is his fight."

Rod stared. "Javier?"

Whatever he said about staying out of the fight didn't stop the boy spitting at Rod's feet. "Oh, so now you remember who we are?"

A chorus of insults rained down on Rod. Alejandro's expression became triumphant.

"Time to pay the piper," he crowed. "Time to pay the piper, Rod."

"Back atcha, Al. You hurt my partner. You got your own piper to pay."

"That whore?" Alejandro waved a knife, but not like a fighter. He was more like a conductor in front of an orchestra, jabbing and undulating to make them understand what he wanted them to know. "That was just … remuneration."

"Payback? I know. I got your note, you sicko."

Alejandro grinned. He was wild-eyed and blood-streaked. The knife in his hand was clean, freshly picked out of the line-up he had gathered for this event, but his clothes and face told the grisly tale of what he had been up to prior to Rod's arrival. "You and I, we got a score to settle. You abandoned us, Rodriguez. You sold us out so you could get in with Shinra."

"Oh, change the record. You think I screwed you over."

"We don't think!" Suarez yelled. "We know!"

"Can it!" Alejandro snapped. "But he's right. You did screw us over."

"And you fucked up my partner."

"You think that makes us even?" Alejandro laughed. "She just paid for her own crimes. Your debt is still owed."

"Her crimes? What the fuck are you talking about? She had nothing to do with anything. We just work together."

"Hm, yeah, she said that too. I didn't believe her, either." Alejandro pointed the knife at Rod, rotating it slowly from side to side. "You two cooked up a scheme together, but it won't work. It won't!"

A faint susurrus went around the circle. Rod risked a glance and caught the tail-end of a shared expression that told him what he needed to know: the Rage Riders, what was left of them, knew their erstwhile leader had gone off the deep end, but they felt responsible enough for his mental state that they wouldn't reprimand him for anything. Alejandro had put himself between them and a lot of bad things and bad people. That had earned him moral leeway in their books. They knew Rod and Naifu weren't lovers. Probably they hadn't wanted to see her tortured either, but they had let Alejandro carve her up because he was theirs, she wasn't, he was hurt and they wanted some kind of retribution to make him feel better. Naifu was collateral damage. Rod wasn't sure if that was better or worse than if they had actually hated her as much as they hated him.

Abruptly, against all expectation, Alejandro threw down the knife. It clattered to the floor. He raised both hands above his head, palms outward. If Rod had pulled a firearm at that moment, he had a clean shot – head, chest, knees, anything he wanted. Of course, ten seconds later he would be fighting his way out of a mob of very pissed off, armed gangbangers, but that was beside the point.

"Get off the bike," Alejandro ordered.

Rod responded by hunkering lower over the handlebars, like a dog growling over a bone. He had brought the bike in case it was possible to grab Naifu and make a quick getaway. That option was gone now, but he was still reluctant to give up the motorcycle. It was a bike that had tempted him and started this whole thing. It seemed fitting that one be here at the end too.

"Get off the bike and fight me like a man," Alejandro said. "No weapons, nobody else, just fists, you and me."

"Why the hell should I trust you?" Rod demanded.

"You mean like I trusted you?" Alejandro started unbuttoning his jacket. He threw it to the floor and yanked his tee-shirt over his head. His bare torso was far more scarred than Rod remembered, studded all over with odd shapes that told stories without words. Rod also saw the numerous needle-marks and flicked his gaze away. "See?" Alejandro insisted. "No weapons." He took off his shoes and socks, shaking each to prove there was nothing extra in them; no knives, no shivs, no firearms, nothing. When he made to undo his belt, Rod stopped him.

"You really wanna do this old-school?" he said.

"Only way to be sure it ends, man." Alejandro's eyes glittered. "One way or another, it ends tonight."

The statement was so close to the one Rod himself had made earlier tonight, a shiver went through him. "I need confirmation you ain't gonna pull a fast one on me." He looked around. "Any of you."

Alejandro nodded. "Boys?"

One by one, they put down their weapons and stepped back to the walls. Two peeled off and headed for the exits, presumably to keep watch for intruders or any back-up they thought Rod might have brought with him. The note had said to come alone, which he had already negated by bringing Legend along, but it was obvious Legend hadn't come on Rod's behalf. He had been here for Naifu. Now she was out of the picture, Rod was on his own.

"One more condition."

Alejandro's expression flickered into annoyance, but he said, "Go on."

"The guy who came to get my partner; you leave them both alone. He ain't got nuthin' to do with this – I don't even like the bastard – and you already got your pound of flesh from her."

"I ain't sure it added up to a full pound, but okay." Alejandro's expression solidified into malicious glee. "Although there were times I added some flesh to her instead of taking it away." He rocked his hips back and forth suggestively. "I really don't get what you saw in her. Oh, wait, yes I do: yourself." He howled at his own joke.

Slowly, showing no hint of the anger and disgust churning up his belly, Rod got off the bike and wheeled it out of the way. He removed his jacket and tie but not his shirt. The fabric was thin enough for the lack of weapons beneath to be obvious. Even slower, he placed his trademark weapon aside. It wasn't that he couldn't fight without the rod, just that he preferred the security of it in his hand. Only an idiot thought going without a weapon made you worth more than everyone else, and idiots died quick on the streets.

"Gone all classy on us," Alejandro mocked. He pointed. "Footwear off. No shivs for you."

Rod obliged. "You want I should moon you to show I ain't concealing no more weapons?"

Alejandro raised an eyebrow. "An offer you shoulda made a long time ago. Too late now. You got your Shinra whore now." He sniggered. "What's left of her."

It was as if someone had rung a bell. Rod and Alejandro circled each other like wolves. Rod half expected the other Rage Riders to whoop and holler, but they were deathly silent. There was more to this than a simple fistfight. They held themselves absolutely motionless, while he and Alejandro moved like stalking predators.

Alejandro gave in first. He had set up this elaborate scheme, but he had no patience now it came down to the wire. Using darting, fast movements, he feinted to Rod's left but struck to the right. Rod blocked it easily with his forearm and gave as good as he got. Both men fell back, undaunted. Alejandro came at Rod again, this time with a series of jabs followed by a kick that actually moved him sideways a couple of inches when he blocked it.

"You've been practising," Rod grunted.

"I learned a lot since you left," Alejandro growled.

"You learn how to protect your blind spot?"

Rod took the offensive so fast he was a blur. He swung and Alejandro ducked without thinking, which left him open for the kick Rod had been planning all along. The blow struck mid-thigh, eliciting a moan. Rod thought it was of pain, but in a second he realised Alejandro had moaned with pleasure.

"Feels good! C'mon, bro. Is that the best you got?" Alejandro was dragging his leg. The strike had numbed it, but you wouldn't have been able to tell from the way he acted. "C'mon. Come on!"

Rod stared. "Be careful what you wish for."

The fight went on in earnest. No matter how many hits Rod got in, nothing seemed to faze Alejandro. Instead, he seemed to gain strength from his injuries, which was more than a little disturbing. He also got in a few good hits of his own. At one point, Rod punched him square in the jaw. While Alejandro fell back he used his own momentum to land a perfect snap-kick in Rod's stomach, lifting him off his feet with inhuman power. Rod was launched into the air and hit the wall upside down. He slid onto his hands and executed a somersault that took him back to where he started, albeit with bruised ribs and a ringing in his ears.

"Whoops," Alejandro said insincerely. "Is it all a bit much for the lil' Shinra lapdog? You've gone soft, Rodriguez."

"And you've gone crazy."

"Crazy?" He pantomimed deep thought. "Maybe a little. And hey, guess what? Guess whose fault that is?" He rammed into Rod, surprising him and knocking him back with the unexpected clumsiness of the move. "That's your fault too! Crazy situations make for crazy consequences and crazy people."

"Bite me."

"You wish."

They grappled. Rod took a blow to the back of the head that had him on his knees. Alejandro took both heels to the chest as he tried to pounce and press his advantage. He crashed backwards, hitting the metal trolley with a clatter of tumbling metal and crunching bone. His injuries were bad, but not life-threatening. Rod used the impetus to turn the donkey-kick into another somersault. A moment later he was back on his feet and bringing one leg around in a kick that knocked Alejandro to the ground. Forgetting the finesse Youhei and Kakutou had beaten into him in sparring sessions at the gym, he landed on Alejandro and wrapped both hands around his throat.

The Rage Riders started to move.

Alejandro coughed, "No! Stay outta it!"

They halted, clearly not happy but willing to follow his commands.

Rod brought his face in close. "Maybe what I did was wrong, and I can own up to that. Yeah, maybe I owe you guys for not thinking ahead and predicting the future, but you took this revenge thing too far. Your beef was always with me. Naifu and Eber had nothing to do with it. None of the Turks had anything to do with it."

"They took you away from us," Alejandro wheezed. In a lower voice, one only Rod could hear, he added, "They took you away from me."

"I decided to go," Rod replied. "It was time for me to move on."

"And what were the rest of us supposed to do, you selfish bastard?" Javier called from the side-lines. His fingers twitched, but he made no move to join in the fight. "Just sit on our asses waiting to get picked off or picked up? You left us in the shitter and then shat on us some more, with your fancy new life, and your fancy new friends, and your fancy new job! You softened us up and then left us to die!"

"No!" Rod raised his head, fingers tightening convulsively. Alejandro's eyes started to roll. Rod stared at him, knew he should just hold tight until the shaking stopped, but he couldn't. Some part of him, buried deep, refused to let him finish his betrayals with this final crime. He loosened his grip, though he didn't give up his hold. Alejandro sucked in air. "I never meant for you to die, or get hurt, or none of that. I didn't think …"

"You didn't think what? That we were fucked without you? I g-got fucked without you," Alejandro stammered dazedly. "Over an' over an' over …"

Rod's stomach was doing backflips.

"Lucid made the hurt good," Alejandro went on haltingly, "but humiliation's the bitch that keeps biting. Public, that's what they liked. No problem doing it publicly." He laughed, croakily and without humour. "I'm a bitch, Rodriguez. You made me their bitch. Now I'm biting back."

Rod's gorge rose. He tasted bile. Alejandro was broken; completely and utterly broken. He hadn't meant it to happen this way. He hadn't meant for anything to happen this way. "No –"

"I would've done anything for y-you," Alejandro murmured, all flippancy gone from his voice. He sounded lost and scared, the way he had years ago when Rod first met him. Rod had been the strong one back then. Alejandro had echoed that strength, but like an echo, it vanished when the originator wasn't around. How had Rod forgotten that? "But you never saw. You n-never wanted to s-see it … or me … or anything you had. You j-just wanted the next big thing. For a while that was us. Leader of a gang – brilliant, right? Then it wasn't enough no more. You gave us hope, Rodriguez. We were nobodies, but you made us think we were worth something. Then you took it all away, because whatever we did, however hard we tried, we couldn't compete with Shinra. We weren't worth as much as those Turks. We weren't enough for you anymore. You didn't care what happened to us, because just … weren't … enough …" His eyes fluttered shut and his body went limp.

"Alejandro?" Rod shook him. "Shit!" Had the earlier injuries he had inflicted done more damage than he realised? It had been difficult to gauge, given Alejandro's reaction to them.

Alejandro hadn't bothered trying to prise Rod's hands free; not even when he was about to pass out. The reason now became clear, as he rammed home the scalpel he had palmed when he crashed into the trolley. The movement was fast as a striking snake and found its mark, sliding between two of Rod's ribs. The blade went deep, through skin and tissue to the vital organs within. Rod arched in sudden agony.

"The thing about revenge?" Alejandro whispered. "Too far ain't never far enough."

It was like being kicked by a chocobo. There was a frozen moment in which Rod's body registered that something foreign was inside him and that, actually, it really hurt. His brain fought to catch up with the signals it was being sent. He stared down at Alejandro as tiny bolts of pain radiated outward from the wound.

"Time to pay the piper, bro." Alejandro smiled and ripped the scalpel free. It trailed a plume of red liquid like he was trying to paint the air with a rainbow one colour at a time.

Rod's spine instinctively arched again against the white-hot agony. Alejandro kicked him off, reversing their positions within a handful of seconds. Now it was Rod pinned, gasping, as blood pooled underneath him and soaked the back of his shirt. His breathing sounded like someone trying to inflate a punctured balloon.

"You could've had it all. Could've had everything!" Alejandro laughed hysterically. "I didn't want it to be this way, but you left me no choice. You took away all my choices. This was inevitable, Rodriguez. From the moment you decided to take up with Shinra, this was inevitable. You had to know it. You're not dumb. You had to know it would come down to this – to you and me, same as it all started. Bug circle, right? Snake eating its own tale or some shit like that."

Rod's whole body felt like it was on fire. He couldn't breathe. His muscles trembled. Had the blade been coated with something, or was this him going into shock? Surely a regular wound wouldn't hurt this damn much. He had been cut and stabbed before, but nothing had burned like this. Greasy pain split him apart at the seams. His fingers and toes were already going numb. His face tingled like bugs were crawling under his skin.

The light of madness shone in Alejandro's eyes as he raised the scalpel for one last two-fisted stab. "It had to come down to this. That doesn't mean I wanted it this way. I tried to give you an out, Rodriguez! I tried, but you wouldn't take it! I'm sorry." He was laughing so much he was nearly crying. Or was he sobbing so much he was nearly laughing? "I'm so, so sorry!"

"Me too," Rod managed to rasp.

Before he could no longer feel his hands he contracted his stomach muscles. They had been sculpted by hours of gym training and hard work. His long torso bent, giving him the extra extension needed to reach up, grab Alejandro's face and twist. Alejandro's neck broke with a noise like biting into an apple. The scalpel fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers. He slumped forward, pinning Rod further under his weight. Perversely, the way his arms fell made it look like was embracing his killer and one-time friend.

Rod's vision swam. He was vaguely aware of the other Rage Riders crying out and running forward. Dark spots crept in at the corners of his eyes, as if his eyelashes had come to life and made a break for freedom through his eyeballs. The pain from his wound was all consuming.

And then suddenly it wasn't. Numbness enveloped him. His eyes shut, but he was in no position to register the switch from light to dark.

I'm sorry, he thought fleetingly. He wasn't even sure to whom he was apologising. There were so many people whose lives had been screwed up by bad decisions and just plain being in the wrong place at the wrong time: Naifu, Alejandro, Eber, Carlito, Suarez, Javier, even Legend. Rod had never apologised for anything in his life. Weird how things turned out. I'm so… so sorry …

With his old gang baying around him, Rod's last breath ruffled Alejandro's bloody hair, and then they were both still.