Disclaimer: Final Fantasy does not belong to me...however much I may like it to. I own no characters, places etc. etc. so please don't sue me! I'm a nice person :)
Author's Note: Chapter Seven...PLEASE review as I really enjoy reading your views and they inspire me to get better! It would make me very very happy! Anyway stop reading this and get on with reading the fic! Hope you enjoy! :)
Chapter Seven: Bandaged Conversations
The red head swiftly unfurled the thickened piece of textured white material within his fingers, allowing its previously tightly wound coils to roll freely down and over his trembling skin. His body seemed to be coping well under the sudden, rather pressured stress, though it didn't seem able to withhold the series of quick, twitchy movements or the rash of prickly goose pimples which had spread like an ice cold wave of fear and uncertainty upon his form.
He slowly reached up five of his slender fingers to the inter side of his fellow Turk's left arm, and curled the tips of them around the now, rather darkened stained cloth, which was seemingly held in place by in invisible vacuum force, in between his arm and the side of his ribbed chest, and carefully began to peel it back, revealing the full extent of the damage caused upon his oh so silent friend, by his own, subconscious command.
It wasn't a pretty sight to say the least, the area surrounding it was both reddened by soreness and the overspill of burning bloody fluid, causing it to irritate and inflame the once calmly comfortable skin, whilst the slice of torn flesh looked itself, as if it was in pain, the opening, contracting and tensing, in angry response to the sudden release from its covered prison, to the attacking barrage of effecting oxygen which was forcibly intent on drying out the wound, while the wound itself seemed only intent on letting more blood break out from under the ripped tatters of skin which were trying with an almost unbearable desperation to hold on to their once perfect stronghold.
As his aquamarine eyes began to study the torn infliction, he was forced to narrow them into a sort of squint, for the dim lighting which hovered weakly above him seemed somewhat inadequate towards his needs, though it could not be helped, as the kitchen itself was barely usable to modern day standards, with its run down floor, and peeling wallpaper, not to mention the lack of space, though one thing he was thankful for was its cleanliness, which before now, had never seemed that important to him, but with to sudden and unexpected presence of such an infection drawing wound, well...it seemed like an all to essential requirement.
The small red box lay opened up upon the table on which the red head was leaning, in an attempt to position himself closer to his friend, its contents somewhat scattered, though yet with a strange sort of organised chaos, across the wooden, unpolished surface. The discovery of such a traditional, yet perfectly suitable first aid box had both quite surprised, and greatly relieved the young Turk, yet it had received no such response from its intended receipt, whose concentrated breathing had seemed the only thing he was able to focus upon, as though he needed to use every last smidgen of personal will powered energy to stop from crying out in pain at every slight, though necessary movement.
It was because of this noticeable restrain, that Reno took extra care when beginning the process of cleaning and redressing the obviously pain inducing damaged section of ripped flesh and torn skin, though the moment he allowed the sterilising liquid which coated the dampened material to make the slightest brush of contact with the raw surface, a rumbling groaned edged its way reluctantly from the wounded Turk's lips, making the red head's concentration levels heightened immediately, as he continued with his wrappings, in a somewhat desperate attempt to not cause any more unwanted pain upon his friend, and as he padded and worked his way around the slowly stemming flow he received various tense, gasping flinches, causing his brow to furrow deeper in an overwhelming flood of guilty unease.
* * * Flashback * * *
The young Turk's face drained of all heated colour, shading it an unhealthy white, as his once bright, aquamarine eyes, dulled and widened in a slow, fearful realisation, the lingering apprehension and unwillingness to accept what he already knew somewhere to be the damning truth, etched across the contours of his face, clinging on desperately in some sort of naïve attempt to make the problem which worsened with every passing moment, disappear from existence.
His entire form seemed to have been paralysed in shock, the frozen nerve waves inching their way through his insides almost painfully, forcing him to be still, with his very heart seemingly unable to beat for lack of desire to be heard, and yet his mind was consumed with silent screams of urgency, pleading with him to use the smallest upon of will to lower his gaze and come back to accept the reality.
A spluttering gasp escaped into the room, and sounded around the red head, airing the sparking distress of its owner's, whom seemed still rather too stunned from the unexpected impact to actually form any sort of worded communication, though luckily for him, he didn't need to, as the sound he had managed seemed to be enough to bring the young Turk around, and back around to the plight at hand, which longed desperately for his unfaltering attention.
Reno's previously parted lips drew softly together, bracing as if bracing themselves, as he finally lowered his gaze, and although his face flashed with more than a hint of unwanted avoidance, he finally allowed the pupils surrounded by rings of aquamarine to focus upon the thing joining him and his fellow Turk together in one of the most shattering of ways.
His body gave a sort of collapsed tremble as he studied the image between them; five of the red head's slender fingers were wrapped, far too tight to be bearable, around a rather thick, jagged shard of clear, reflective glass, its razor sharp edges cutting into his own palm with a strange sort of ice blade pain, as though the nerves within his hand were attempting to mute it somewhat, but his own permissible infliction was the least of his worries, as his gaze moved along the glassy surface, towards the body attached to it.
''Shit...'' His voice was no more that a hushed wisp, his speaking abilities also seemed to have evaporated at this point, as the vision of red, glistening flesh took over him completely.
The makeshift dagger's supposedly pointed end, could no longer be seen, as a large amount of its dangerous peak, lay embedded within his co-worker's side, though the veils of dark crimson which covered the area with a spreading control, made it near impossible for the young Turk to tell whether the piece of glass had pierced the male's chest, arm, lung, or all three.
He wasn't even sure of the deepness, or lethality of the wound he had unconsciously created, after all, he had know honest recollection of receiving the shard, or even seeing it before this moment, and even the action of accidental violence had gone unwitnessed by his own eyes, as they had been in the process of their own sharp awakening, and as he searched his victims shaded eyes, and facial stillness, he was fairly certain he neither had been aware enough to realise the shard was even there, before it stuck, leaving him unable to observe its entrance.
In an almost impulsive suddenness, the young Turk sprang into action, allowing both his mind and body to change settings from his own, real, confused distress, onto 'Turk autopilot', and with the beads of cold, prickly, fear produced nightmare sweat still present upon his brow, Reno pressed a gentle, yet firm hand around the wounded area, holding the skin taught, and in one swift motion, pulled the shard out from inside his friend.
As the rip became free from the masking plug of thick glass, fast trickles of dark, crimson blood flowed down, through the red head's fingers, and over the wounded Turk's shirt, causing it to spread within the material like dye, and soon it had made a surface pool upon the cotton sheets below.
Reno threw the sharpened item to the floor with a delightful breaking clatter and let out a muffled grunt, his own hand now also reacting at its sudden freedom, as a rush of headed liquid swam between the bloody lacerations.
He quickly grabbed the worn pillow from behind him, ripping at its fraying cover with a determined control, which allowed a large fold of material to be torn away completely, the buckle of broken threads causing a strangely satisfying sound, and soon he had forced the absorbent piece upon the slowly draining wound with a closing pressure.
After he was secure in the knowledge that, for now at least, the bleeding had been halted, the red head wrapped his arm around his co-worker's waist, and gently hoisted him up, before proceeding to walk him from the room and rather awkwardly down the rickety, splintering stairs, though if someone had been viewing the played out action, they no doubt would have believing that Reno was doing quite well under the circumstances, after all, Rude was both tall, and well build, both factors adding up to him being rather weighty.
It wasn't long after the pair had reached the ground floor, that they had managed to successfully hobble across the entrance to the kitchen, and soon after the young Turk had positioned his friend carefully upon one of the peeling chairs, before grabbing a nearby drying up towel and proceeding to run over the the tap, allowing the sputters of water to seep into the materials fibrous structure.
As soon as he was satisfied with the amount of water consumed, the red head bolted back over to the bleeding Turk, quickly replacing the makeshift bandage with a new, dripping piece of kitchenware, and whilst it seemed to bring a cooling sensation, it also helped to wash away a large quantity of the lost crimson fluid, allowing for the first time for Reno to study and diagnose the seriousness of the inflicted wound.
After a few moments, the young Turk came to a stable conclusion that, although bad, it was definitely not fatal, though the realisation only brought the slightest twinge of relieved comfort to him, and as he left his friend with the pressured material held against him to search the cupboards for some kind of basic first aid kit, Reno let out a silent, trembling sigh, the present happenings finally overwhelming his autopilot, and once again forcing him back to face the guilty confusion which was rampaging within his mind.
* * * End Flashback * * *
The young Turk gave the twisted bandage one final tug as he pulled it to the maximum tautness, being both firmly stable and comfortably unpressurised, so as not to allow any more blood to leak, but so rather stemming the flow completely.
As he leaned back, Reno gazed down at his handy-work, though not with pride, but rather with an almost frozen, mesmerism, his aquamarine eyes still, yet flashing wildly, with a painful mix of apologetic embarrassment, angered shame, and a growing degree of fear apprehension, with the realisation of what he had done.
In an almost desperate attempt to remain within the realms self-sanity, the red head quickly rose from his seated position, and darted across the room, leaving echoing taps upon the flooring's tiles reverberating softly about the room, and as he arrived at the sink, Reno soon turned the loosened knobs, allowing the release of clear, prickly cold water to flow down in dribbles upon the metallic basin, before thrusting his own palms between.
A small, half smile of calm played upon the corners of the young Turk's thin lips, as he enjoyed the numbing consequences of the icy droplets, whilst his blood stained palms cleared, as the crimson thinned liquid began to dissipate, falling away as it dropped to the bottom of the sink, not mixing but almost separating the free water apart, creating it's own line of flow.
His head turned, though not completely, towards Rude, proceeding to give a nervous cough, before speaking, in a tone of rather fake calm, as though play acting, ''Did you want some water or something?''
Although he did not respond with any sounding words, the red head could see him shake his head with the outermost corners of his aquamarine eyes. He was about to turn away when he saw his fellow Turk give a sudden tinge, whilst his face tightened in pain, and as his body tensed, with Reno almost able to feel the sharp intake of paining breath.
He looked away quickly, completely unable to meet the bald Turk's shaded glare, and then, almost subconsciously, and through a remaining silence, his own hand slammed down upon the sink's soft, metallic edge, forcing his inflamed palm to rage with a roughened burning, and with the skin's upper layer having seemingly been torn by his tight grip upon the shard of glass, his under layer was subject to easy opening, and with his rather self-directed outburst, he had allowed the blood to once again surface, and break upon his palm, leaving it to flow like map seen rivers between the skin's tiny crevices.
''Reno.'' The red head turned to view his friend, whom for the first him since his infliction had been caused, had chosen to offer some sort of spoken commutation with him, and although his shades remained on, Reno could still somewhat imagine the concerned look which had been growing behind them.
The young Turk's brow furrowed, as he began to approach his co-worker, ''What...I mean...how did it happen?''
Rude didn't seem at all surprised by his question, and with the knowingly light chuckle which proceeded, he in fact seemed to have been somewhat expecting it, ''I came up because I heard the sound of glass shattering...I thought you might have been in trouble...when I came in...you'd hit out in your sleep, smashed the tumbler beside you...your body...well...you where thrashing about on the bed quite violently...'' He stopped now, and looked at Reno with a questioning sort of interest,''Nightmare?''
The red head nodded slowly, whilst letting out a sigh of tired dismay, as his friend continued, ''Well, then I sat down, I couldn't see the shard in your hand...I tried to wake you up and...'' a small smile crept upon his lips, as both shock and amusement blended together, ''Well you know the rest...''
A lingering silence fell between them, before once again Rude chose to fill it, ''How are your hands?''
''What?'' Reno's eyebrow lifted out of dazed disbelief, both touched and ashamed at his co-workers degree of concern for his tiny wound, when his own was so much greater, ''Oh, they're fine- but that's not important, I stabbed you for Gaia's sake! Isn't that registering with you at all?''
''I had noticed it yes.'' Rude smiled again, both easing the younger Turk's nervous dismay, and heightening it, all in one swift motion, ''It's ok Reno...''
''Hm...I don't see how-''
''Don't worry about it...all your embarrassed twitching is much more painful to endure than any flesh wound.''
A smirk tugged at Reno's own lips, though it soon relaxed as quickly as it has attempted to appear, ''Still...I'm sorry.''
The wounded Turk gave a silent shrug, making sure it was light enough, so as not to cause further ripping towards his already painful damage, ''It's my fault...I should have been more observant...or just left you to it.''
An appreciative expression soon graced the coutures of the red head's face, ''Well...I'm glad you didn't.''
Rude raised a eyebrow, both hinting at concern and interest, ''Scary monsters?''
''...Something like that.'' The younger Turk seemed to tense up, as his gaze shifted uncomfortably to the floor, ''I should warn you, this isn't the first time I've had this kind of nightmare...'' An unseen eyebrow twigged slightly upon his co-worker's face, ''And with us going on this mission together...It might happen again and-''
He was cut off by a voice filled with a mix of curious confusion. ''Are you saying I should be frightened of you?''
It was Reno's turn to raise a single side of his brow, ''Just when I'm asleep.''
Their conversation seemed to come to a sort of halt, as a tense, yet not uncomfortable pause began to proceed, though once again that evening, it was the wounded Turk whom seemed most happy to fill it, as his own quiet fascination got a better hold upon him,''These dreams...I don't suppose they have anything to do with Tifa?''
A low chuckle rumbled within the back of Reno's slightly dried throat, ''Am I that obvious.''
''Well, I couldn't imagine you getting so shaken up by anything else.''
Another, less hesitant expression of amusement sounded, though it ceased almost with a blunt suddenness as the red head's body tensed, ''I think...I think something may be happening to me.''
''Like what?''
''I don't know...I just keep getting these images...they're so vivid...it's like they're real...playing out like a piece of theatre inside my mind, and-''
He was stopped mid sentence by a rightly assuming Rude, ''You're starting to wonder if the things in your dreams will manifest into your reality?'' The younger Turk nodded slowly, which received an almost sigh of tired desperation from his co-worker, ''They're dreams Reno...''
''But...I stabbed you.''
Rude sighed again, though this time he did nothing to hide his frustration, ''I thought we'd already covered that subject?''
''In my dream I mean...not the one I had tonight but...before the ball...'I didn't see it happen but...you were there and...'' Reno's voice trailed off, as though he couldn't bring himself to say it.
The bald Turk looked on, more than a little unconvinced, though his interest seemed to have perked up a bit with his added inquiry, ''Coincidence?...It wasn't under the same circumstance right?''
''No, it was with a knife, and...it looked a tad bit more fatal..''
''Well then...like I said, coincidence.''
They sat in silence for a short while, before Reno slowly allowed himself to lean back against the kitchen surface, and soon locking his own aquamarine gaze, with Rude's own hidden one, ''Are we bad?...Because we choose to be Turks?'' The question had come out a little more distracted that he had intended, making it seem more rhetorical, though luckily for him, his co-worker understood his intended delivery.
''It's not the job title that deciphers that Reno...it's the person.''
The red head's brow furrowed in a curious sort of baffled wonderment, ''How do you mean?''
''We killed people for money Reno, we went into peoples homes, and took what was needed, we spied on them...their lives, invaded their privacy, we worked for a company that, for better or worse, used the planet for its own personal gain, and we did it all without thought, or conscience... we didn't care.''
Reno's brow dropped even further, ''This isn't really helping Rude...''
The bald Turk held up a hand to quell his unimpressed co-worker, ''But now...we've been trying to save the planet, save lives...though the question is...are we only doing this because they asked us to? Or is it because we want to...and if they commanded it of us...would we do it all again? Kill like we did...live like we did?
''Rude...'' The younger Turk had edged closer to his friend now, with an almost apprehensive glint flashing within his narrowing gaze, ''...What's going on?''
''I just want you to be certain of what you want...and who you really are.''
A slight smirk played across Reno's face now, displaying a somewhat missed trademark, which had been lost since the mission's starting moments, ''Are you getting mushy on me?''
''No...but it's just that...there are things going on in Shin-Ra...I don't know exactly but...things are getting complicated...I think there might be a few less...desirable...intentions activating within the company...''
The red head had his gaze fixed upon Rude, whom had looked as serious and as steady as ever throughout his quiet reveal, and as he spoke, his own tone and demeanour seemed to match with his co-worker's, as though it was catching, and yet it still retained a sparking type of charming quality which only Reno could create, ''Our job...what we do, who we work for...it's never going to be simple is it?''
''Doesn't seem likely...''
Only a few measly hours were allowed to pass before the two Turks once again, found themselves having to set off upon the mission, whose seemingly never-ending journey only increased the build up of apprehensive tension around its still unknown subject intentions, not to mention the fact that, by this time, both he and Rude were physically and mentally exhausted, and now unable to rest any longer, with their clothes dirtied and bloodied before they'd even been allowed to begin their dangerous trek.
The wind seemed somewhat non-existent, and yet, as Reno stood leaning against the house's outside wall, his clothes still gently ruffled upon his skin with a refreshing chill, whilst the hard blood-dried patches which had unforgivingly appeared as a constant reminder, hit with a completely different feel, the rough, flaky texture complementing the soft cotton folds with an almost unexpected, flawless delicacy.
Both of the young men had seemingly spent the last dregs of their time within the darkened, slightly cracked, musty kitchen talking with one another; it was actually the most in terms of vocal response the red head had ever managed to get out of Rude, and while it was unusual, and somewhat surreal, it was also strangely comforting; to know his friend did pay attention to him, that he had views, and to knew, although he was somewhat reserved and imposing, he was indeed human.
Most of the chosen topics had strayed upon meaningless, and forgettable words, though some parts were certain to stick with Reno, parts he actually wished he didn't remember; the possibility of another change, another trick within Shin-Ra was rather unnerving, though not unsurprising, and although a few years previous the young Turk wouldn't have cared so much as a chocobo's arse about the concept, the idea now seemed somewhat more uneasy, because now there was something to lose.
Reno sighed lightly as he stepped forwards upon the gravelled pavement, which surrounded the house, but seemingly ceased to exist beyond a few metres, and crunched beneath his boots, whilst simultaneously scratching at his soles, yet leaving no damage.
His aquamarine eyes scanned over the horizon, as the grey, pale half night, half morning light crept across the land, which seemed to be inhabited to the blink by every type of life besides human, as though somehow barren to it, and after only moments of his observations, the young Turk suddenly felt rather cut off, and rather alone, with Rude's lone presence seemingly adding only the smallest of comforts.
A haunting string of bird calls echoed around the air, as the feathered creatures, presumably upon seeing the first glimpse of awaking light, began their routines which Reno had thought of as ridiculously planned, and yet still somewhat spontaneous, and along with the strange rustles of brushing leaves, waving grass and his own quiet breaths, the whole thing seemed idyllically peaceful.
It was within that perfectly still moment, that the red head decided; as soon as the hour was bearable and the mooring light bright enough to fool his mind into believing it should be somewhat alert, he would try and contact her again, and again...and again, until he heard her real, unrecorded voice, his need for her now larger than ever; he wanted to tell her every, and yet nothing, but it was the contact that he wanted most of all, to hear her, as some sort of reassurance that she was indeed real, their parting, along with the seclusion seemingly making his and Tifa's time together both feel and appear within him as a rather more than surreal dream.
A gentle crunching rumble sounded from behind the red head as Rude came out and joined him, in his silent, oh so steady way, his injury seemingly not important enough to be allowed even one more groan of pain, and before Reno could even registrar the movement within his legs, the pair had set off; the house soon becoming nothing more than a distant speck of memory, and the invisible path upon which they walked had begun to ascend with a steep tilt. It was only when the young Turk's gaze came to observe an all to seemingly familiar wooded area up ahead, and the higher, snow dusted mountain regions beyond, that his skin seemed to pickle with yet another sort of apprehension, though this time he truly believed his instincts to be correct.
A/N= Sorry for the lateness...if it's any consolation I've literally been tittering on the edge of mental exhaustion for the last four hours...(it's been a busy day)...if there are any spelling mistakes they were probably due to my half asleep form being slumped upon the keyboard...sorry about that and I hope you cane forgive me :)
I really wanted to get some development into this chapter between Reno and Rude, seeing as they are the only ones actually present and all...it seemed they should have a 'scene' together as such...