A Day in the Life

Collection of drabbles.

l l l Part 12 l l l

As his lip throbbed painfully and blood dripped down his chin, Reno was reminded that being cocky wasn't that smart at all. In fact, it could get him killed. However, he was resolved to not let them see him break—he was a Turk, after all.

He was in the middle of a very small room, his hands duct-taped tightly and effectively to the steel chair he was sitting on. His EMR was MIA.

"I asked you a damn question—don't be a smartass, Turk." The man in front of him was wearing a sharp black suit, his black hair slicked back, and looked at him with dark black eyes. He was bent over, snarling in Reno's face, so close that Reno could tell he was a smoker. Hell, thought Reno, do I smell like that, too? He turned his face to wipe his mouth off on his shoulder, only causing the blood to smear down his chin and onto his neck. Suddenly, the man stood up and turned his attention to the other man standing in the far corner to Reno's left. He was bulky, not in a wasteful, lazy way, but in the threatening way—muscled and tough.

Reno tried not to look affected, so he grinned.

"I don't care for his fucking name. Find out what he was sent here to do. Shinra knows better than to send his men into my domain. He'll think twice before sending shit like this my way again." Turning toward the door, the suited man gave Reno a sickening smile—which gave him a very uneasy feeling he didn't want to admit having—and then left.

Just as the large man began heading towards him, the suited man popped his head back into the room and glared directly Reno.

"And wipe that damn smirk off his face while you're at it." Then he was gone, and the redhead was again left alone with the large man, AKA body-builder.

Eyes narrowed warily, Reno kept his gaze on him, waiting for the questioning to begin. Instead, his interrogator pulled his fist back and slammed it into the Turk's stomach, instantly knocking the wind out of him. He almost blacked out from the lack of oxygen, but he gasped in a deep breath and admitted to himself that he hadn't seen that one coming. So much for the questions.

"You know, I could use a drink right about—"

His head whipped to the side by the force of the violent blow, blood trickling out of his nose in a stream. Damn—this isn't going anywhere. His continued to throb painfully and he could taste blood in his mouth.

Suddenly, the body-builder disappeared from view behind Reno, but seconds later he was again in front of him—this time, he was smiling. Before, he was all stoic and statuesque, but now he was grinning at the Turk as if this were child's play. Then Reno spotted it.

Oh, hell no.

His opponent was holding Reno's Electro-Mag Rod as if it were the baton in a race and he'd just crossed the finish line.

"Look. That's not a toy—"

Fuck! Pain spread through his body in less than an instant, his body seizing uncontrollably for a few moments, his vision black, and he smelled burning flesh, but at least he hadn't passed out.

So much for conversation.

"Why did President Shinra send you?"

Or not.

Reno tried to speak but his tongue felt incredibly heavy and—is that drool? He tried to focus as his vision cleared, but the room was now spinning and he couldn't hold his head up anymore. His fingers felt numb under the duct tape that was most certainly cutting off his circulation, and his goggles lay broken on the floor, damaged by the impact of his EMR. Not wanting to seem rebellious by being unresponsive, he gurgled out nonsense for a moment, words too difficult to shape.

"Speak up."

He took a few much-needed deep breaths to regain his faculties and raised his head.

"I said," he breathed, "Fu—" Suddenly, his body was wracked by uncontrollable coughing, and Reno was disgusted to taste more blood in his mouth, knowing it was coming from his own lungs. At this point, he had a split lip, probably a broken nose, looked like a broken rib or two causing some internal bleeding, and his head hurt like a bitch. There was no telling how much damage the EMR had caused. It apparently hadn't been set too high or he'd be dead. Still, it had wrought enough damage to make him delirious—well, significantly more so than he had been.

His head was pulled upward roughly by a hand fisted in his hair—"I will not ask you again."

Reno smirked as best he could through the pain, through the blood covering his face.

"Fuck you."

And suddenly the lights went out. Not expecting it, but never one to waste an opportunity, Reno took to his feet, his hands still bound, and swung the steel chair around to slam it into the body-builder.

The large man stumbled a bit, but because of his size, he was able to correct his balance within seconds. He grabbed at Reno, but his hands closed around the metal of the chair, and he threw the redhead across the room. Hitting the wall, Reno's left hand was mostly dislodged by the violent twist of his wrist, which sounded and felt like an inappropriate angle for that part of his anatomy, but he muffled his groan of pain by biting his tongue. Not thinking, or rather, thinking too clearly, he wrenched his hand from the restraint, this time letting out a painful yelp as the bones in his wrist twisted again.

In no time at all, the man was upon him in the darkness and began pulling the Turk to his feet. Reno clenched his eyes, waiting for the next hit, but before he could expect to black out from the pain, his attacker let go of him and slumped to the ground in a rather large heap. Reno cracked his left eye open slowly. That's when he noticed he could see. The light hadn't been turned back on, but the door was wide open and Rude was standing in the doorway, his arm stretched forth, gun practically smoking in Reno's direction.

"It's about time, yo. I almost fucking killed him."

Rude lowered his gun, "Of course," and then turned around to leave.

"Hey! Wait—untie me, damn it! I think I broke my wrist." He was slouched over so the weight of the chair wasn't pulling on his other arm, and he had the most unconvincingly pleading expression on his face.

His partner walked back into the room, right up to Reno, and pointed his gun at the other wrist where the duct tape was still attached firmly.

Reno jerked back hastily. "Hell no! Don't fuckin' shoot it off, yo! I need that arm!"

He watched as Rude grinned, but holstered his gun so he could grab his knife and cut Reno loose. The redhead cringed as he felt the hair being forced from his arm, but said nothing. And as Rude turned again to leave, Reno snatched up his EMR and followed him out.

l l l

to be continued.