Author's Note: Initially, this was just going to be an epilogue, but after much struggle, I decided the story just wasn't over. (That long break in updates – yeah, this chapter is why.) So, my epilogue turned into three more chapters…and then an actual epilogue. Enjoy the aftermath! :)
Chapter Eleven:
A Turk's Resolve
"Sometimes I feel so cold,
like I'm waiting around all by myself…"
"You all have your training assignments for today," the director concluded curtly, eyes not lingering on the rookies as they yawned; no one was a fan of the new conference time, deciding that six o'clock in the morning was much too early to feel anything to do with energy. "If there are no other questions, you are dismissed. Elena, I'd like a word before you leave." Two of the new recruits exchanged glances, somewhat nervous, somewhat mocking, as they stood and filed out with the other recruits. But Elena wasn't worried; Tseng spoke with her after meetings quite frequently, and usually about the same thing.
"…Are you coming with me today?" he asked quietly when the door closed. Glassy eyes avoided his gaze, instead glancing over her paperwork for another recruiting assignment.
"…I need to get over to Junon and start recruiting," she offered, dodging his question.
"Elena, your assignment can wait," Tseng argued pointedly. The blonde Turk fell silent beneath his stern gaze; dark eyes lingered over her, heavy and intrusive. Finally, she sighed, defeated.
"I…I can't…not after…not after last time…" she answered softly, biting back tears.
"Reno!" Suddenly, fluorescent eyes found her and she stepped back, knees buckling as she bumped the coffee table. Hollowly, it clattered to the floor, sparks popping as the wire on the lamp ripped. A step drew him nearer as he threw the director to the side; a throaty grunt escaped his lips as he slammed into the wall, plaster cracking and denting beneath the force, and leaving the Turk dazed.
"It's…it's your fault!" the redhead shouted, the words almost inhuman as they tore from his throat. In an instant, he lunged, hands wrapping over delicate flesh. They were nearly gray in comparison to the creamy flesh beneath them, and knuckles whitened…constricted…
"Re-Ren…no…" she managed over chokes as she fought for breath. Sweat soaked silken bangs, gold strands catching in her eye as she tried desperately to pry his hands free. Heat rose in her cheeks, and tears swelled in her eyes, vision blurring…fading…
"Elena," the director said, almost pleaded. "…Did Professor Hart tell you he asks about you almost every day?"
"I…" she sighed, turning for the door. "I can't…I'm sorry…" She snatched her papers from the conference table, anxiously tucking a golden tress behind her ear. He watched her go, shaking his head silently; after all, he couldn't protest, couldn't make her go.
He couldn't blame her.
*~*~*0*~*~*
Hands fisted the soft sheets, fingers trailing the smooth sateen cotton as he hugged his pillow closer, shifting almost silently against the plush mattress. His eyes found the single window, feet above anything he could hope to reach, and shades of gray and gold peeked through the narrow glass. It was almost morning, then, which meant the quirky scientist would be in soon, along with a shift change in guards. He chuckled darkly to himself, closing his eyes against the brightening room; at least he'd created a few more jobs for ShinRa.
Reno wasn't ready for the morning. Not yet. He hadn't managed to sleep, barely managed to keep his eyes closed for more than two minutes, and could quite literally settle for beating his head against the wall until he was unconscious in hopes of capturing a wink of rest. But it wouldn't work, and he knew well it wouldn't. It would just be a window for Sephiroth to take control and get him in to some kind of trouble. Again.
In the last few months, Sephiroth had proven that he was, in fact, a mastermind strategist and more deceptive than anyone but the knowing redhead gave him credit for. In that short span of time, he'd managed to get the entire kitchen blocked off, all of the furniture bolted down, anything glass – mirrors, windows…even the television – removed, a timer placed on his shower, sink, and toilet, plus automatic drains.
And Tseng had always thought Reno was a troublemaker.
Though, the redhead had to admit, the devious general seemed to be getting more restless – though Reno wasn't sure if it was just the isolation getting to him or not. The treatments were helping, a little, but still. Once a month he was sedated, and taken to the Forgotten City, bathed in those glassy crystal waters…granted, nothing like the first time had happened – yet – and Reno did feel stronger for a while after each…session, if it could be called that. Like a doctor's appointment, a refillable prescription.
But despite it, three months…Hart was no closer to figuring out how to diffuse the DNA, Reno was getting nowhere controlling Sephiroth, though he could now more than he could before, and Tseng was M.I.A. for the whole thing. Like the director cared…the prick; he thought of Reno as a thorn in his side, a guilt trip, something to amend. If he had really cared…
Reno shook his head, tousling overgrown, unkempt tresses of red. Fluorescent jade flickered up to the window again, strands of bright orange and magenta now spilling from the glass onto the opposite wall, across the mirror and reflecting to the carpet; for a moment, he imagined it was fire. Warm, dancing embers, wavering, flickering over muted gray. But it was only light, he reminded himself, a light he couldn't even watch as it drowned out the darkness of the twilight before it.
He sat up from the mattress, and it rustled almost soundlessly as it moved with him. Like butter. Feet slung lazily over the side of the mattress, toes cringing as they tested chilled carpet. Winter had settled over the bunker, chilly despite thick walls, and he knew the anniversary would be coming around soon…too soon… Arms wrapped around his chest as he shoved his feet into worn slippers, shoving the reminder to the back of his mind; he needed a calendar. Absently, he crossed to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, not bothering to click on the warm vanity light, instead letting the green glow of his vision guide him. The professor would be in shortly, spending most of his work hours in the lab next door, whittling away at some new harebrained idea to unmutate his genes. Not that he minded; Reno appreciated the man's efforts. But…
Sluggishly, he threw on a pair of faded jeans, worn until the coarse denim was soft and supple, and a snug tee-shirt that hugged his slender frame. He threw himself back to the mattress, sighing as he propped his head against the wall, eyes lingering on the firelight that gleamed in smoldering trails over the other side of the room. He didn't know why he even bothered getting dressed, really. After all, he'd see Hart, who was more than used to seeing the redhead in his pajamas by now, and maybe the occasional guard, who he really didn't care about. Maybe he was holding out, he realized vaguely, swimming pools of Mako lingering over the mirrored sunrise. Maybe he was hoping Elena might stop by, say hello…or Tseng might check in, see how he was doing.
…Like that would happen. Not again… Not after what happened last time the pair of Turks visited.
The buzzer rang, and his mind snapped free. He didn't bother answering it, the guards would let the scientist in whether Reno wanted him in or not; Sephiroth had lost him that privilege within the first two weeks after throwing somewhat of a tantrum when he realized he'd been locked in an inescapable bunker miles outside of Midgar. So, they – and by "they" he meant "Tseng" – felt it was best to let the guards handle entry.
"…R-Reno?" the timid voice of the professor echoed over the speaker. The redhead sighed, pulling himself from the mattress and dragging himself to the communication device by the door.
"Yeah, you're good…" Reno replied groggily, mouth dry and sour with the taste of unbrushed teeth. He didn't know why Professor Hart insisted on going through the permission every day – asking Reno if he could enter the bunker and go to his lab…he supposed it was out of respect, knowing that Reno had few options to control anything aside from when the hell he drug his ass out of bed. But even Sephiroth had managed to narrow that small comfort; if Reno fell into much more than a heavy doze, he would sleepwalk. Well, not so much "sleepwalk" as "Sephiroth-walk." The general had a nasty habit of taking over in his slumber, so Reno had resorted to simply not sleeping. Insomnia wasn't so bad.
Fabric rustled and footsteps shuffled as the scientist passed by the secured doorway, and Reno frowned for a moment; there had been two sets of footsteps… He shrugged; maybe it had been the nicer guards on shift, and they'd offered to help him. Reno smiled to himself as he heard keys jingle. Hart would go to his lab, in the room next door, put down his computer bag and totes of files and notes and theories. He would be quiet a moment, sorting through them so that they were exactly where he wanted them for later use. There was a one-way window in there he would open, so that Reno had the option of watching him if he chose to – though Reno's blinds were closed at the moment. Then he would shuffle back over to the three-doored entrance and –
The bell rang, and Reno smirked to himself. Like clockwork. For a moment he considered teasing the awkward scientist, refusing his entry, saying to do his evaluations some other time. But…well, the fun had already sort of withered out of that joke, and instead he slunk from the bed and over to the stiff metal chair.
"Come in," he answered vacantly, fastening the restraints around scrawny ankles. Naturally, he could only restrain one of his hands, but he would toss the key near the door for Hart. These restraints had been enhanced, double layers of carbon-steel, infused with Mako. Even a full-strength Sephiroth would struggle with them, and so far, he hadn't managed to break free before Hart easily sedated him.
He knew the routine. Like a record, like a video on replay. He could hear the metal gate clank in the track as it rolled open before slamming back closed again. The sound repeated as the second gate opened and slammed again. The gate systems had been Reno's idea so that, should Sephiroth break free, it would be nearly impossible for him to simply slip out the door. Apparently, Tseng had been really fond of the idea, and implemented it both in the entryway and outside Reno's snug apartment. Not…that it was much of an apartment anymore…more like – no, he wouldn't say it, wouldn't admit it.
Reno couldn't blame Tseng or Rufus or Hart for the measures that had been taken. He couldn't, he wouldn't. It was Sephiroth, he reminded himself. He wouldn't blame them; it only made his mind weak enough, vulnerable enough…
"How're you feeling today?" Professor Hart asked, and Reno pursed his lips thoughtfully, imagining the timid blonde's response to his snarky answer; deciding he'd rather not chase away the only person that could possibly help him, he shook his head.
"So far, so good," he answered nonchalantly, watching the scientist roll in his small metal table; it was scattered with supplies, neatly and precisely organized. Bitten nails pried the brass key from the floor as he set down his bag, and Reno shifted his gaze as the blond approached, knowing well that his striking gaze still managed to startle him. Instead, he let his eyes drift to the mirror that loomed a story above the door, reflecting the morning sunrise across the room, before finally letting them trace the high ceiling absently.
"That's good to hear," Hart said humbly, sounding somewhat impressed; Reno debated the tone distractedly, wondering if the scientist meant it sincerely, believing the "treatments" to be working, or if it was meant as a security blanket, to be grateful for the "good days." Warm hands fumbled with the other restraint, securing it loosely.
"A little tighter," the redhead offered, and the blond hesitated. He knew the routine; like clockwork. He was polite and nice, not wanting to fasten the bond too tightly. But leaving it too loose had proved costly once, though Hart had managed to sedate him relatively quickly, before anything drastic occurred. Hart pulled the restraint tighter, Reno nodding to let him know it was okay, and he would set the key across the room, out of immediate reach.
"Were you able to get any sleep with the medication I gave you?" he asked, reaching for his bag. Silence; Hart knew that meant Reno either hadn't tried it or had forgotten. Latex snapped as he put on gloves. "Reno, you need to get some rest at some point," he protested, giving his voice the best impression of Tseng's sternness as he could muster; a light flashed over the redhead's eyes, checking his pupils, and then in his ears…
"I've told you what happens when I go to sleep," Reno argued pointedly; Hart pulled over his table, tying a latex band over his bicep. "Medicated or not – I don't want him taking over me."
"…It might help," he suggested; two fingers felt for a vein, and he lined up the needle.
"It might not," the other retorted; pain pricked at his elbow as the needle sank into supple flesh, and he let the first vial fill.
"…You won't know until you try it," the blond stated, ending the argument as a second filled; as clever as the redhead was, he knew he wouldn't be able to counter the scientist. The vial snapped free, and he pulled the needle out, placing a cotton ball over the small wound. "And if it does help, the, er, treatments might actually be more effective."
'It won't stop me…'
"Yeah, yeah…" he sighed, slouching in the uncomfortable chair. "I'll try it tonight – if you'll agree to have me restrained," the redhead added. Hart frowned at the extreme suggestion, but had learned better than to argue; when it came to Reno, he was stubborn, determined, and would have his way one way or another. He put the cotton ball back on his tray, double checking to make sure the wound had closed, as usual.
"…If it'll get you to try something…" he said, gloves snapping as he pulled them off. He whipped out his phone, muttering as he pressed buttons. "Let me just…er…change some…plans…"
"Don't…don't worry about it," Reno mumbled, eyes sinking to the sleek linoleum.
"It's, er, really not an issue," the scientist protested hesitantly, eye flickering uncertainly to the redhead; pale features were solemn and distant, bright eyes even dimmed beneath the bleak façade that settled over him. Reno sensed his curious gaze lingering over him, the near silent taps of fingers typing on his phone disappearing.
"…She'll hate me even more if you have to change your plans because of me…" he finally admitted, voice hoarse and quiet. Hart scrutinized him beneath a furrowed brow, finally sighing as he stuffed his phone in his pocket.
"Elena doesn't hate you," the blond offered quietly, breathily.
"…Is that why she hasn't been by in three months?" Reno asked, chuckling half-heartedly. The scientist bit back any reply he wanted to make, and instead let an index finger find the carotid on the side of his neck, eye fixed on the second hand of his watch. "I know…it's my fault but…" He sighed; he wished he'd been able to control himself, take back the dark bitter words that lashed out like a whip, breaking over skin and drawing rivers of crimson.
"Reno, it's only temporary," Tseng explained sympathetically. "Just until Professor Hart can –"
"It's not temporary, Tseng," Reno interrupted tersely. The director bit back his words, knowing well that the redhead deserved to vent. "There is no way to cure what I am. This…" he added, gesturing to the apartment. "…It's a prison."
"Reno," the director protested weakly.
"No!" the redhead whirled, sudden emotion rising in him, heat and harshness fixing over ashen features. "I asked you to do one thing – one thing – as a friend!" Eyes narrowed, now shouting; the carotid artery in his neck bulged with rage as he stepped towards the raven-haired Turk. The blonde shrank away, pressing herself tightly against the door, but Tseng stood his ground. "But you couldn't do it. So no, I'm not okay. I'm not happy. And you don't get to pretend that everything's okay!"
"R-Reno," Elena began, attempting to smother the quiver that tugged at her meek voice. "Derik…he's confident that he can find a way to stabilize your DNA – if not revert it back completely." Suddenly, fierce eyes were over her, phosphorescent jade sharp as it pierced her mind.
"Your boyfriend isn't exactly confident about anything," Reno spat, and the blonde halted, taken aback by the harsh reply. "And he can't fix me – there's no 'fixing' what I am. You should have just let me die when you had the chance – when you found me in that tank!"
Well, things were a little fuzzy after that, when Sephiroth took the reins; granted, he hadn't exactly taken control, but he was sure something went wrong. Apparently, it had been bad enough to end their friendship. Not that he could blame her; after all…who would want to be friends with a jerk like him? That blamed the person that saved his life?
"How is she doing?" Reno asked finally, pulling himself away from the memory, biting back bitter tears that nipped at the corners of fluorescent eyes. His head reeled, looking to see where he had gone, though he couldn't see directly behind him.
"…She's okay," he answered vaguely, eye fixed on the mirror above the door. "Actually, I think she's heading to Junon to find some new recruits." Reno couldn't find an answer, suddenly finding himself missing being a Turk, being out and about, actually doing.
'She's afraid of you…of what you've become…' The thought pulled at his mind, and distantly he wondered if it had been Sephiroth or himself. Either way, he knew the statement was true, and sighed quietly to himself, the breath shuddering through the near-silent room.
"…That's good…" he murmured finally, settling for the half-hearted answer. A silence settled over them, awkward and hesitant; Reno absently picked at a peeling piece of metal or paint or something on the arm of the chair, ears catching the sounds of the professor as he finished his exam. "Do you…do you think she'll ever come back?"
"…She'll…she'll come around," Hart assured him quietly. A hazel eye flickered back up to the mirror, and he gave a quiet sigh; had the redhead not had enhanced senses, the sound might have gone unnoticed. Unable to answer, he merely gave a soft nod, head hanging lazily as his eyes traced rough cuticles.
The professor stacked his notepad underneath the samples he had collected, clearing his throat suddenly as he turned. Fumbling with one hand, he managed to undo one restraint. He backed away, tossing the key as he reached the door. Hart winced as he realized he had over-shot the pitch, a pale hand grabbing for the key; had the chair not been bolted, it likely would have toppled with the redhead's attempts.
"Er, sorry," Hart said, setting his pile down on the small table by the door. "Bad throw." Reno winced as he moved closer, the figure smearing into a white blur in his vision. A siren rang against his ears, becoming louder, louder, until the shrill sound blared against his mind.
"…Reno?" he heard the name distantly spoken, muffled as though spoken underwater. His gaze lifted, white flooding his vision as he moved closer. Syllables vaguely reached his ears, but they were indistinct as he tried to make himself focus. He tried to speak, to pry words from his throat, but they hung somewhere in his chest, and he couldn't make them come through.
It cleared suddenly, the haze lifting from his vision, the shrill dying into some unknown distance. He blinked, forcing his eyes to focus; he could make out sounds, like choked, wheezy gasps as they fought for air. Fluorescent eyes sought the source, finally landing on the crumpled professor at his feet. His face was red and blond locks were soaked with sweat. A hand clasped his throat the other trying to pry his weight from the floor.
"You…you should go…have the guards worry with me later," he muttered, understanding what had happened; the moment had been brief, the vulnerability, the doubt…he fed on it, used it, and controlled it. "I'm…I'm sorry…" he added, knowing well that the words were meaningless. Unable to make choked gasps form words, the scientist nodded hastily, opening the door. Reno could make out the sound of the gates opening, the raspy coughs as he left.
Fluorescent eyes focused on his feet, the dingy gray stains on his socks. Finally, they closed, and he exhaled long and slow, releasing the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He could hear a dark chuckle in his mind, and brows furrowed as he smothered the sound beneath his thoughts, instead letting his mind focus on the distant drone of chopper blades; the sound came louder and louder, finally fading as they passed over and flew somewhere into the distance. Reno sighed, gaze drifting away from the high window, the shades of gold and blue he could never reach.
*~*~*0*~*~*
The deep indigo had nearly completely faded from the sky, shifting into a pale morning blue. Clouds hung lazily over the distant mountain peaks, streaked with golden rivers of sunlight that casted a warm glow over the city. Vaguely, she could make out the sun, burning a fiery shade of orange, as it tried to peer over the jagged horizon. The hum of the chopper blades was blaring, even despite the ear-protecting headphones, and she let it drown out her distant thoughts as the steered the vehicle over Edge.
Cerulean eyes hesitated as they caught on the building, the tall barbed fence that surrounded it. Her gaze lingered, focused on the bunker and she vaguely imagined the redhead, ears pricked as he heard the chopper fly over; wondered if he knew it was her. Teeth dug in to her lip, and she hardly noticed as a salty tang pricked her tongue. Finally, she tore her gaze away, instead focusing on the hills and plains and mountains that were glazed with the morning sun.
She closed her eyes against the blurred glare, fighting back the heat that nipped at her eyes, tears stinging against her eyelids. A hand left the controls briefly as she swiped her eye with the crisp sleeve of her blazer, swallowing against the lump in her throat. Elena sighed, brushing her fingers through golden tresses as she hesitantly steered the chopper.
*~*~*0*~*~*
His whole body was still shaking when he opened the door to the lab, and the door hardly made a sound as it closed behind him. Hart sighed, but the breath hitched in his aching throat and he coughed roughly. The fit passed, and the professor crossed to the window. His hand paused, trembling as it hovered near the switch to the blinds. He thought about the redhead, maybe still sitting restrained in the chair and he could see the bruises already starting to darken his swollen skin…Hart let his hand fall away and sauntered to his desk, rubbing his throat as he coughed again.
Trembling hands nearly fumbled the mass of files as he withdrew them from his bag, which he'd set on the floor before he'd gone in to visit Reno. Suddenly he realized he'd left the vials of blood he'd drawn in the other room. He hesitated, looking from the door to the window, and then turned back to the files, deciding he would get them later. An itch caught in his throat and he coughed again, strained and painful against the aching muscles. It happened occasionally, mostly right after Reno had been moved to the bunker and they were still working out all of the kinks. But it had been a long time since Sephiroth had managed to catch him so off-guard…
Hart had barely gotten himself seated before a knock echoed from the lab door, and he sighed, standing. But before he could cross back to the door it was already open, and Tseng's steeled expression couldn't hide his obvious concern as he closed the door behind him.
"Are you alright?" the director asked quietly, offering the scientist a cup of coffee.
"Yeah – yeah, I'm fine," Hart replied, gratefully taking the cup. The heat felt good against the sore, strained muscles.
"How often does that happen?" Tseng questioned finally.
"Sephiroth still has outbursts occasionally," the blond explained, turning to find a coaster before placing the cup on the table, away from his notes. "But this is the first time it's happened in, er, several weeks."
"So is this something to be concerned about, or –"
"I think it's a good thing," Hart interrupted. Tseng didn't respond, but cocked an eyebrow as the professor continued. "The fact that it's happening so rarely either means Sephiroth's strength is progressively waning, or that Reno is learning to keep him in check more successfully."
"That's good to hear," he replied. "So it appears the treatments are working, then?" Hart nodded, then turned back to his desk, pulling more files from the bag. "How close are you to finding a permanent solution? We can't keep putting band-aids on this, Hart; we need to find a way to fix this. Reno needs –"
"What Reno really needs right now are his friends," Hart interjected curtly. Tseng blinked, and when he didn't respond, the professor slammed the stack of files against the desk. He wheeled around, his fierce glare catching the raven-haired man off guard. "You heard him in there – he thinks you and Elena both hate him. Did you realize that he almost always asks how you're doing – since you've clearly not been paying attention? He – he just feels so alone here! And the only time he does this is when he starts to feel alone – or when he thinks about what happened with you and Elena, because he feels like it's his fault – like you hate him, or else you're afraid of him! I mean, would it kill you to stop by on your way out every now and again and if nothing else just say hi?!" Silence filled the space around them, and Hart realized he'd been yelling – at the director of the Turks. Wonderful.
"I-I apologize, for – for shouting," Hart stammered, taken aback by his own brazen outburst. Tseng blinked, then onyx eyes fell to the floor. The scientist turned back to his desk, hands trembling as he shuffled through his files. "And no, I-I haven't found a way to alter any of the invasive factors in Reno's DNA. But, er, I…i-if you'll excuse me now, I-I really need to get back to work."
"Right," Tseng said flatly, and he turned to the door without meeting the scientist's gaze. "Just call me as soon as you find something." And with that, the director left, footsteps quiet and careful as he crossed to the door.
Hart dropped the files and sighed with relief as soon as he heard the door whisper closed. His heart was still pounding with adrenaline, and shaking hands gripped the edge of the desk as he supported himself.
'I'm such a wreck,' Hart thought, realizing he had nearly fainted just because he'd chewed someone out. Admittedly, it wasn't just a random person on the street he'd yelled at, like a parent scolding a disobedient child; it was Tseng. The director of the Turks. Although…to be fair, he did deserve it, Hart supposed. He inhaled slowly, deeply, willing his heart to steady as he finally returned to his seat.
The scientist poured over the notes, test results, DNA analyses, theories; reading, analyzing, making more notes, reading again…he felt like he was missing something, something obvious. So far he'd managed to identify each component of his DNA. But no matter what he tried, every attempt to isolate and alter any of the components had resulted in a genetic meltdown of the sample. Which would mean either killing the Turk or forcing him into a vegetative state. And, though Reno had said many, many times that he would welcome death at this point…
Guilt rose inside him suddenly and he fought it back. Hart hadn't mentioned that he'd found a way to alter any of the components…he hadn't told anyone. Not yet. If it somehow got back to Reno…he couldn't tell anyone. He had to find a way to save him…
*~*~*0*~*~*
The director sighed as the door closed behind him, the audible click echoing in the corridor. Soft footsteps resonated sharply through the hallway, and he briefly wondered if enhanced ears could pick out the heel-toe chorus – could tell they were his. Tseng shoved the empty thought back to his mind as he reached for the stairwell door, hinges whispering as it closed behind him.
The words of the scientist lingered over his mind, replaying, rewinding, shouting at him again. It was true; the way they'd left, not come back…it was no wonder the once-Turk assumed the worst. But he wasn't ready for them to be back in his life. He'd made that clear.
"Wow, this is nice!" Elena beamed enthusiastically, brilliant cerulean eyes fluttering over the bunker. "You have a king-sized bed?!."
"…Yeah…" Reno answered half-heartedly. Bright eyes watched impatiently as the over-eager blonde plopped onto the oversized mattress, sinking into the deep, plush surface. The director chuckled softly, but the redhead only exhaled breathily.
"How are you feeling?" Tseng asked him quietly, obsidian eyes glancing over to the once-Turk. Fluorescent jade hardened, pointedly avoiding, focusing instead on the blonde.
"…Peachy," he muttered curtly. The Turk hesitated, studying, scrutinizing him as he cleared his throat uneasily.
"How is the apartment?" he tried again, feigning sincerity in the curious tone. Phosphorescent eyes still refused to meet his, unwavering as the blonde stood from the mattress, beaming to herself.
"I'm extremely jealous, Reno," she said, and he threw her a weak smile that he was certain she caught as fake.
"…Fine," he retorted blankly. The blonde rejoined them as the director sighed.
"Reno, it's only temporary," Tseng explained sympathetically. "Just until Professor Hart can –"
"It's not temporary, Tseng," Reno interrupted tersely. The director bit back his words, knowing well that the redhead deserved to vent. "There is no way to cure what I am. This…" he added, gesturing to the apartment. "…It's a prison."
In a lot of ways…he was right; true, he and the president had gone to great lengths to ensure the bunker was as cozy as it was secure. But despite the lavish furnishings…he was still gated in. Locked behind a system of doors that made escape virtually impossible and a sense of normalcy something entirely foreign. It was a prison, at least until Professor Hart managed some sort of progress that could keep Sephiroth at bay for a decent amount of time.
A breath brushed pale lips as he sighed almost soundlessly, and he tore his mind away from the reality of the redhead's situation. Distractedly, he entered the upstairs office, slinking back into his overstuffed office chair. Eyes winced as he peered through the sunlight, dimmed by the tinted glass, but still glaring all the same. It was like a giant fish bowl, he mused absentmindedly, the thought fleeting as dark eyes lingered over the redhead.
…Maybe the timid professor was right…maybe they'd let him simmer long enough.
*~*~*0*~*~*
Eyes were closed, but ears pricked as they caught the sound of the front gate opening, the long, low buzz and rattle of metal as the door slid across the tracks. He could make out voices, a man's voice, though the words were too distant, too vague to make out. Hesitant footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, a distinct heel-toe rhythm that was broken and unsure, and he let his attention focus on the sound as it neared. It stopped suddenly outside his door, he realized.
Finally, he heard a loud clank, the clatter of the gate as it opened, the hiss of the tracks, and the repeated clank as it closed. It repeated, slow and drawn, but silence settled back over the room. Someone was outside his door – he could hear the heartbeat, the shallow, shaky breaths, nervous but determined over parted lips, the distinct smell of perfume, slightly floral but slightly sweet…
A soft knock finally rapped at the door, quiet enough he might not have heard it without his enhanced senses.
"C-come in," he answered, curiosity getting the better of him, despite himself. There was a hesitance, and for a moment he pondered the possibility he hadn't been heard over the thick metal door and the low drone of the heating unit that kept the bunker temperate. The handle jiggled slowly, the person on the other side fumbling, hands likely quivering as they forced themselves to open the door. It opened silently, slowly, and eyes settled on the blonde as she entered.
"…Hi…" she managed hoarsely, the single syllable sticking to her mouth like gum.
"…H-hi," he answered, fluorescent eyes wide like moons as they scrutinized the Turk. Cobalt eyes sank to the floor beneath his gaze, and he quickly averted his. As she closed the door behind her, she tucked a golden tress behind her ear, sensing the redhead's gaze tugging sideways to glimpse her. Finally, he cleared his throat softly. "Hart's…probably in his lab," he informed her quietly.
"…Okay," Elena said, nodding soundlessly. Her gaze lifted, slowly, hesitantly, scrutinizing the lush apartment before finally finding the redhead. She opened her mouth to speak, closing it quickly. She whirled, a trembling hand reaching for the door knob, but it stopped as a finger grazed cold metal. A breath escaped her lips, long and slow as she tried to muster her courage, or some other emotion that would turn whispers of breaths in to words. "I'm sorry I –"
"I'm sorry about –" They both cut short, quickly realizing that they had started speaking at the same time. A smile tugged at rose petal lips, and she cleared her throat. "…You go first?" he offered politely, gaze still forced to the floor. She hesitated, suddenly words trapped in her throat, but she cleared the lump free and forced her voice to work.
"…I'm sorry I haven't come to see you," she managed weakly, voice dry and quiet; vibrant jade eyes flickered up to her, brows furrowing as he studied her. Finally, he shook his head, his free hand tousling auburn locks.
"You…you don't owe me an apology…" he muttered quietly, averting his gaze. Instead, he let it drift to the window, where sunlight poured through and reflected in the mirror opposite, casting the room in a vibrant light, the shades of blue and tufts of clouds as they drifted by… "…I'm…I'm really sorry about…what happened before…" She was quiet, and he shifted uncomfortably against his restraints. A heel tapped quietly against the hard floor as she moved to retrieve the key, but he shook his head quickly. "Don't…I…I'm fine," he said as she cut her movement short. A moment settled over them, tense, awkward, and somehow loud with the drone of the heating unit. Neither of their eyes met the others, instead both fixed on the floor, the walls, or anywhere else in the room.
"Derik told me you've been doing better," she finally said. He chuckled darkly; granted the scientist hadn't lied – he had been doing better, finally able to fight of Sephiroth after he managed to take control. After. After he'd managed to do something stupid, or hurt someone – or in most cases, both.
"…It's…it's getting there," Reno answered.
'Don't flatter yourself.'
"Shut up…" he mumbled. Cobalt eyes struck him, and he swallowed against the lump that rose in his chest. "S-Sorry…not you…" he offered meekly, and a sympathetic expression tugged at delicate features. He looked away; he hated that expression. Heavy with pity, regret, some deep longing emotion that couldn't be forced into words. He hated it – being drowned with sad eyes and gentle words. Quickly, Reno cleared his throat.
"Hart said you were going to Junon…to look for some new recruits," he offered, changing the subject.
"Yeah…" she trailed, not sure how to respond.
"…How're the rookies?" Elena snickered, lips curling as she smiled.
"Hopeless…" she muttered. "They're lazy, unmotivated, and completely incompetent. I can't even get them to file their investigation reports correctly!"
"Sounds rough," the redhead remarked, grateful the blonde was opening up to him.
"It's infuriating!" she replied, laughing. "I mean…was I this bad when I was a rookie?!"
"Well, that's a loaded question." He felt his face contorting, lips tugging as a grin slid over his features, and he chuckled. Quiet settled back over them, the conversation short-lived, and suddenly awkward. Finally the blonde cleared her throat.
"It's…it's really good to see you again." Sharp eyes met hers, but she didn't look away, didn't shrink away from the vibrant gaze; instead, she smiled, and he returned the gesture.
"…Yeah…you too," he offered. He swallowed, mind pulling suddenly to the scientist next door, hands probably caressing a bruised neck, breaths finally calming as he forced himself to sit, read, do something. "W-would you mind doing me a favor?" Reno asked, the words quiet and hesitant. She nodded uncertainly. "Would you…would you go check on Hart?" Her gaze hardened suddenly, fierce and demanding as they studied him. "I just…Sephiroth…attacked him…"
"Is…is he okay…?" she trailed, knowing the redhead wasn't sure.
"I…I think so," Reno muttered. "This isn't the first time it's happened, but…I just…I want to make sure…"
"…I'll go check on him." The blonde gave a half-hearted smile, though he could easily read the sudden concern that lingered over her expression.
"Oh – Elena? Could you take my blood samples to him?" Reno asked, head nodding in the direction of the small vials the professor had drawn earlier that morning. "He, er, forgot to take them earlier." She nodded, grabbing the samples off of the table and stuffing them in her blazer pocket. Fingers trembled as they reached for the door knob, the door closing with a silent click behind her. He hung his head as he let his focus drift to the chattering of the metal gates outside; as it settled, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, and eyes drooped wearily as he studied the fibers of the carpet beneath his toes.
*~*~*0*~*~*
A quiet knock shattered his thoughts, and he was so startled by the sound – having rarely had anyone visit him while he was at the bunker – that he forgot to respond.
"Derik?" He recognized the voice the moment just before she pushed the door open, and Elena stepped in timidly, like a doe stepping into a meadow.
"E-Elena," he stammered, nearly stumbling as he rose from his desk chair. "I thought you were on your way to Junon – I – what are you doing here?"
"I…I was," she started, "but…when I flew over, I…I just thought that…I couldn't stop thinking about – about Reno, sitting down here…"
"Yeah," Hart returned distantly, and there was an uneasy pause that filled the air of the lab.
"How – how are things?" she asked finally. Hart cleared his throat nervously.
"Er, actually, now isn't the best time," he replied. "I, er…I feel like I'm close to a – a breakthrough…I need to get back to work." With that Hart turned back to his desk. He had almost returned to his seat when Elena spoke.
"He wanted to know if you were okay," she said flatly; the professor hesitated but didn't turn. "Reno asked me to check on you and see if you were okay."
"Y-you've already talked to him?" His voiced trembled almost unnoticeably as he sat, suddenly sifting through his papers diligently. "What…what did he say?"
"Just…he just asked me to see how you were doing," she answered.
"Er, he was, uh…he was still sleeping when I got here," he explained, not looking up. "He, er, he's probably wondering why I haven't been back by yet." The Turk was silent, but when Hart didn't say anything else, she sighed and tucked a gold lock behind her ear.
"What happened, Derik?" He froze, and a wide hazel eye met her gaze as he glanced over his shoulder. "The truth," she added, drawing the vials of blood from her pocket and half-throwing them on the desk. The scientist hesitated, swallowing hard.
"Elena, I…it's nothing that you should be worried about," he said softly.
"Do you think I'm blind?" she asked sharply. "Do you think I'm a moron?"
"What? N-no, I – I just –" he started, but she cut him off.
"You just what, Derik? You think I didn't notice? You think I never notice?" He didn't answer. "I can see the bruises, Derik! You said he was getting better! You told me that Sephiroth hadn't…you told me he was getting better!" The scientist was quiet, and Elena was suddenly aware that she'd been shouting. Heat gnawed at the corners of her eyes, and she swiped at them. "How long…how long were you planning on lying to me?" she asked quietly.
"Elena, I…" he began, gaze averted to the floor. "I just…you're always worrying about Reno, and I just…I didn't want you to have to worry about me, too…"
"I do worry about you, Derik," she replied, forcing the words past the knot in her throat. "All the time. Any time you're awake you're making notes, running tests, reviewing files…trying, so hard…and…what if Reno – if Sephiroth –?"
"I really do need to get back to work, Elena…" he interrupted, his assertiveness betrayed by the tremble in his voice.
"…Right," she said quietly, unable to mask her irritation. "I guess…I guess I'll leave you to it, then." He turned to face her, but the door was already closing behind her.
"Loneliness gets so old,
I'm in the lost and found, sitting on the shelf."
Quotes from Forever, by Fireflight.