Author's Notes: He he he. More evil. Actually, it's better than evil. It's the story of a Turk, an executive, a man, and told by those who loved them. Told in the final moments of their lives. Once more, brought about my the Dougan madness. Because it IS right for Turks, and this Reeve is a Turk. This time I added Left Me For Dead to Furious Angels and Speed Me Towards Death. If I had to guess I'd say that Speed Me Towards Death best suited my purposes for Vincent, Left Me For Dead was Rufus, and Furious Angels was for Tseng. But hey, make connections yourself. And you must pay attention, keep an eye on who is telling the story, because I tried to make the transitions smooth. It's pretty much the italics showing that movement is being made from one to another. Always in the pattern of Tseng to Rufus to Vincent. The gaps will grow larger and larger, until the final wonderful gap.

Theme: Who

Beast

A chill came with a breeze that played over his skin, and it was this that awoke the Wutain. Coming awake was slow at first, but after a moment, after his mind registered the fact that he had closed the windows before turning in for the night, he was up. Up and out of the bed. Up, out of the bed, and looking around the room for signs of movement as he pulled out his gun, Tseng almost didn't notice the slightest bit of light from a corner. A lit cigarette. He moved quickly and leveled the gun for the smoker. What he didn't expect was the smile that met his action, or the smooth chuckle that he hadn't expected.

"Reeve…?"

"That sounded almost like a question, sir. Surely you don't need to question if I am here. I'm always with you, am I not? Always at your side, a dog loyal to its master, serving blindly before betrayal. Tell me, Mister President, did you get off making use of a puppet in a new way? Was your bed not good enough for me anymore?"

"This isn't fair Reeve," Vincent sighed, frowning from his place on the bed. Nearly an hour ago the elegant, sweet, moronic commissioner had insisted that he only needed five more minutes to finish some of his work before he'd come to bed. And now Vincent was being forced to his feet, and after prowling over to his lover's desk the former-Turk frowned. More of Hojo's old files. While usually indecipherable, Hojo had always left records, of everything. Reeve was currently seeking out information on just what had been done to Vincent, but getting through everything else was hard, and taking away their private time.

But a certain aspect of the file caught Vincent's attention. It was in Turk battle code… "Just what is this?"

"Is it forbidden for me to visit you Tseng?" Reeve asked, slowly rising from the seat and putting the cigarette out in the flesh of his palm. There was no reaction to the what had to be painful action from the normally emotional man though. Something told Tseng that letting go of the gun just yet would be a foolish thing to do. Maybe it was the fact that Reeve wasn't a smoker, maybe it was the fact that he'd obviously come in through the window, or maybe it was just the smile in those eyes that just felt… wrong.

"No, but most people use the door. So… what gives me the honor of your presence?"

"I thought you'd be happy to see me," Reeve purred. Finally the former-Turk appeared, directly to Rufus's right. Before the President could react his former lover had removed the gun from his side, and smiled as it was cast to some dark corner, for now.

"Happy isn't the proper word here Reeve. You are, after all, planning to kill me, aren't you? How much blood have you spilled tonight? And after killing the best gunman in the world… What will stop this madness Reeve? Was it wrong of my father to try and stop it eleven years ago? You were uncontrollable… You shot my MOTHER."

"The bitch had it coming," Reeve countered, his arms wrapping around Rufus's body to restrain him, the Death Penalty coming to rest against Rufus's leg. He could try to kick it away, but he knew, knew too well, that were he even to try he'd be slain without remorse by this man. Vincent had become a legend among Turks only because of the fact that he went missing for standing against Hojo. Reno was a legend, and would be a legend, because of the wholly un-Turklike way he managed to be a Turk. But Reeve, given the chance, he would have been known for bloody reasons. Highest score ever on the entrance exam, best shot they'd ever had, absolute loyalty, absolute blood lust. Any perceived threats, true or not, lead to instant defense. It was how Rufus's mother had died.

"She only wanted me sent…"

"She would have made you soft. You needed to be strong Rufus. And you are strong now."

"How many have you killed?" Rufus demanded again.

"Just a few," Reeve responded at last. It meant just the opposite of course. Or at least it did in…

"Old Turk code."

"What was that?" Reeve asked, not looking up at his partner, too consumed by trying to understand the code.

"It's old Turk battle language. Hojo couldn't have written this. According to Tseng this specific kind of code hasn't been used in about twelve years. It makes no sense…"

"What does it say?" Reeve asked, handing the file over.

Vincent couldn't help but smile as he felt Reeve's eyes take him in while he read from the report. He was shocked by the contents though, and soon sat on the edge of their bed. What was written here… It changed everything. Blood red eyes rose to look upon Reeve, taking him in for the first time. How had he not seen it before? He'd been trained as a Turk after all. Something like this, even so subtle, so unexpected, he should have seen.

"Reeve… what is your full name again?"

The man blinked in shock, and rose to sit beside the dark haired gunner. "Reeve Evan Tuesti. You know that Vincent."

"So your initials would be R.E.T., right?"

Reeve nodded, but looked mystified. "What is going on here?"

"This file, is about a Turk, Reeve. A Turk put out of commission over ten years go by Hojo…"

"And?"

"He was called Ret, and if he was alive today… He would be…"

"You."

The Wutain dropped the gun as it hit him. He knew that look, that smirk, those eyes. This wasn't Reeve. No, Reeve was sweet and gentle, and at this person's side was a gun. No… the Death Penalty. Vincent's only sacred possession these days. This wasn't Reeve Tuesti. At least, it wasn't anymore.

"Ret…?" Tseng asked, almost afraid of getting an answer.

"So you still remember me, rookie," Reeve purred, moving to close the space between them.

"How could I forget?" Tseng asked. No one had called him rookie in so long. He'd been only eighteen back then, and Ret, the amazing and unstoppable Reeve 'Ret' Tuesti had been known through all of Midgar. A man whose mere presence outside of the tower meant death to someone, whose hair had been every color of the rainbow at one point, who had more piercings than Rude and Reno put together. A man who hadn't just worn the dark suit of the Turks, but blood red shades, as if he wanted to see the world drenched in blood. The most dangerous man the world had seen save Sephiroth himself. He was THE Turk, even though Veld had called the shots. Everything one could have wanted in a Turk. Tseng's other role model…

"You seem to be the only one that would remember me," Ret purred as he finished closing the distance, as a hand came to rest on a bare hip, and another cupped Tseng's face. It was only now that Tseng remembered that he had never really been one to sleep in clothes, far too restrictive.

"Tell me this is a dream," Rufus said with a sigh. He'd had it before. Ret coming back, returning the favor for the betrayal he'd thought he'd suffered. Of course, it wasn't a baseless fear. He had, after all, lured his lover into Hojo's waiting embrace, so to speak.

"If it is, it's a nightmare my dear," the former-Turk purred, Death Penalty redirecting to press cold against the back of Rufus's head.

"Why now?"

"Like I said… Vincent put his nose where he shouldn't have. See, Hojo wasn't a fool, my Prince. He doesn't get rid of useful things. Made me more than what the President wanted, more than some little pawn Turk that he could possibly return in the future. No, Hojo made sure I was indebted to him. All I needed was to be restored, to do his work. I was, after all, always the loyal little fuck."

"But Hojo is gone."

"And I'm not," Ret purred, slowly forcing Rufus further and further back. Soon the blond was forced against a wall. Those cold green eyes were laughing at him as soft lips that he could only just remember pressed against his own. The hand that didn't hold his gun pinned Rufus's wrists to the wall, keeping him where he was.

"Ret, please don't do this…" Rufus said softly. "I can make it up to you."

"Oh, you will Rufus. I promise that you will… I've come for my pound of flesh."

"I don't understand."

"According to this," Vincent said, frowning, "you were a Turk, Reeve."

"That can't be right," Reeve protested, snatching the file and trying to understand the code. "I was never a Turk. I was in school at this time. I was studying to…"

"Hojo is good at creating false memories Reeve…"

"NO!" the kind man shouted, on his feet and pacing around the room. "NO! You're WRONG. This is a LIE! It's all a lie!"

"Reeve," Vincent sighed, moving to get on his feet and calm his lover. What he wasn't expecting was for the man to grab the Death Penalty from by the door and whirl on him.

"Stay the FUCK away from me Valentine!"

The options were obvious of course. He could fight for the weapon, possibly killing one or both of them in the struggle, or he could talk his lover down. The answer was obvious. His lover was rational after all. It would just take a bit of time. So both good hand and claw came up and Vincent backed away. Reeve needed a few minutes to think.

"Reeve, listen to me…"

"You don't get it Valentine. You got to DIE for your loyalty. You think it's bad to be betrayed by a fucking WHORE of a scientist? Lucrecia was small potatoes. At least you had a CHANCE to make up for all your fucking sins you whore. The only reason your name was even remembered is because you went missing!"

"Reeve."

"Shut-up," Reeve hissed, his voice low, cold. There was death in it. Then and there Vincent knew that he wasn't living through the night.

"Just tell me that you still care for me."

Ret grinned. "You were always smarter than the boss gave you credit for."

The lips of the other man pressed against those of the Wutain as the hand at his hip traveled lazily back, squeezing at his backside. He didn't much mind the fact that the older man was guiding him towards the bed, shedding clothes all the while. Hell, before he much cared about anything other than this moment, this time, right here and now, he was pinned to the bed, his body covered by the former-Turk, former-executive, the commissioner, the deadliest man left alive. There had never been a greater rush in his life, and he'd actually let Reno drive his car once.

For years he'd dreamt of this, of being in the arms of the former-Turk. Just to be here now…

"Oh God," Rufus whimpered as Reeve's hands moved over him in the old ways. And somehow, he wasn't surprised when Death Penalty went off.

And the silence was absolute, after the gun went off. Crimson painted the bedroom. Reeve, who should have been shaking in shock, was grinning. Vincent could see the madness in those eyes. The ecstasy that had come with the shot that had barely missed his head. He knew that the next shot wouldn't miss.

"I love you," Tseng purred, unknowingly echoing the final words of the first victim of the night. Echoing what Rufus had said when Ret had first been given to Hojo. Echoing all those empty promises form all of Reeve Tuesti's life.

He didn't live to regret it though. Reeve had always been an amazing shot. The final bullet in Death Penalty's chamber, delivered at just the right angle, just the right time, to pass through both of their hearts. The last thing they would ever hear would be the words Tseng had left to ring into silence that had always been between them.