6. Feel
Reno's POV
My arm throbs with pain as the painkillers I was given in the medical truck wear off, leaving me gritting my teeth as I try to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Pain isn't new for me, I've dealt with far worse than this, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to be left tossing and turning as my arm protests every angle I keep it at.
It doesn't take long for me to give up on sleep for the night.
Cigarette ash drops onto my bare leg and I swear, brushing the heat away from my skin. I've got the television on, the reporter on the screen telling me an abridged version of shit I knew a week ago. The news is a helluva lot less interesting when you're part of the group that decides what should and shouldn't be public knowledge. Should the masses know that Deepground forces raided another farm outside Junon? Yeah, that's something they can worry about. Should they know that the only possible survivors of the raid are the three children of the couple who are being held hostage? Should they know that these aren't the first children Deepground has grabbed from their homes and started training since their normal recruiting methods are no longer available, seeing as they don't have SOLDIERS bringing half-dead men and women for sick bastards like Hojo to alter and swell their ranks with? No. No they really don't need to know that shit. Not yet. Not until we have some sort of solution to fix it.
I change the channel to some dumb ass horror movie, plenty of fake gore and plot holes, and grab a slice of cold pizza from the box on my coffee table. Pizza and cigarettes are a pretty good mix. I'd feel better if I had some damn narcotics, but I'm not allowed to have them outside of emergency situations. My dumb ass abused too many of them early on in my career. I still wish I had them though. I feel like shit.