The coffee machine filled its corner of the workshop with a pleasant aroma as it sputtered dark liquid into the pot. I drew in a deep breath of the mocha-scented air, but my moment of reverie was interrupted when Reeve waved me over to his computer.
"I'd like your professional opinion on something."
He brought up an image on the monitor just as I came up beside him.
"What's this?" I asked, peering at some kind of aerial map.
"Midgar and the surrounding landscape."
My curiosity aroused, I bent forward to give the photo a more careful examination.
"Huh, okay. That's the city there, I suppose, but all this...?"
I gestured at the large, dark area surrounding the irregular dot in the middle of the picture.
"Wasteland, basically."
I sent him an odd look when he didn't continue, but the man remained silent, watching me with an expectant expression.
"And?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"What are your thoughts?"
I returned to the picture, scrutinizing it with more care. Something occurred to me as I compared the barren area with the green landscape that surrounded it.
"I'm thinking the founders of Midgar didn't decide to build a city in the middle of a wasteland."
Reeve nodded.
"This was a grassy plain thirty years ago and it stayed that way for a decade or two after the city was built. The first changes were slow, but now it's spreading faster every year."
"Nobody has a problem with this?" I wondered, alarmed by the implication that the desolation was allowed to escalate unchecked.
"I wouldn't say that," he said with a small, surprisingly sly smirk. "Why do you think AVALANCHE is so hell-bent on bringing Shinra down?"
"A group of eco warriors? That's it?" I shook my head, folding my arms over my chest. "Back home, the sudden appearance of a barren area on this scale would be a huge red flag. The world in general would be up in arms, not just the scientific community. We take land degradation very seriously these days. We can't afford not to."
Reeve hummed in acknowledgement, then fell silent and stared at the image.
"The official Shinra stance is that it's nothing to worry about," he said after a few moments. "Any claims to the opposite get dismissed as unfounded rumors spread by ignorant hysterics or scare tactics used by enemies of the company."
Something in his tone, combined with the little creases between his eyebrows, made me suspect I was in the company of a voice of dissent.
"You don't sound convinced."
"There are those who hold a different opinion. They say the Mako reactors are to blame and will eventually destroy the Planet."
"'They', huh? Are you one of 'them'?"
He folded his arms over his chest and was silent for a while.
"Not exactly, I suppose. Certainly not back when I designed the new reactors, but over the years I have come to suspect that something isn't right. Recently, that suspicion has only grown stronger. The part about the whole Planet dying, though... It's hard to imagine that could happen."
"It can be hard to accept," I said quietly.
"Yes. Your descriptions of Earth's problems have been eye-opening. Combined with everything else I've seen and heard lately... Well, I think this needs to be looked into."
I took in the damage surrounding the metropolis. As far as I could tell I was looking at a photo with natural colors, which made the image all the more disconcerting. It wasn't the beige or brown might expect from the desiccated soil of a developing desert. The ring around Midgar was a filthy dark grey, like a taint consuming the landscape.
"I think you're right."
"Is the damage reversible?"
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
"Shouldn't you be asking someone who knows your planet?"
There was a pause before he answered. The creases on his forehead deepened.
"I talked to a highly regarded scholar of the Study of Planet Life recently. He claims the Planet can't be saved."
My stomach lurched, much to my surprise. I hadn't expected that such a phrase would faze me much these days. As my personal long-term survival was uncertain, I hadn't thought much about Gaia's situation, but the notion that this planet was in a better state than my own must have seeped into my awareness nonetheless. Deep down, some hope had taken root.
"Well, that's reassuring," I remarked dryly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. "And now you're hoping a different scientist will give you an opinion you like more?"
A cynical smirk, mirroring the one on my own face, softened the man's somber frown.
"It's the Shinra way."
I chuckled. "A for effort, I suppose. If you want a different point of view, you can't beat one coming from another world."
His smile widened, but soon his features grew solemn again.
"All joking aside, Bugenhagen tends to think on a geological time scale. The end he's referring to might be who knows how many millennia from now. I'm more interested in the next few decades."
"Fair enough."
"I also brought this up with a few researchers from the Science Department, but none of them consider it an issue worthy of their time. So please, indulge me."
It was pleasant to discuss a problem that was more or less related to my field, for once. Shame, then, that I couldn't give him any precise answers.
"If this was a picture from Earth some fifty years ago, I'd be hopeful. If it was Earth today, not so much. But Gaia?" I shook my head and sighed. "I really can't say. I need to learn more about this world, especially on the properties of your magical Mako. I'd like to visit the wasteland with Sparky and talk to this Bugenhagen myself, but I guess that's out of the question."
"I could give you the reports on Mako analyses conducted at the reactors and get copies of Bugenhagen's treatises on the Planet," the executive suggested after a short deliberation.
My eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise. It seemed Reeve was serious about finding solutions to the problem. Better yet, he wanted me to help him discover them.
"It's a start, but I need to learn about Mako's biological effects as well."
My request was met with a discouraged grimace.
"That's trickier. Hojo and his team keep their research close to their chests and will become suspicious if someone like me even asks about it." He fell into another contemplative silence, stroking his trimmed beard into even neater perfection. "Maybe Reno has ideas."
"Reno has lots of ideas. Most of them bad ones."
I hoped my crooked smile would conceal the rattled emotions within. I hadn't seen the redhead since he had skulked out of the workshop the morning before. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for a day or two, but I couldn't help but worry that this time it wasn't just for work.
Reeve chuckled.
"True. I'll give him a call and ask him to drop by later. In the mean time, why don't you tell me about the efforts to restore Earth?"
A nervous twinge unsettled my gut at the prospect of seeing the Turk again, but I couldn't let my apprehension get in the way of the new direction Reeve had in mind for our cooperation. Forcing the jitters down, I focused on the present conversation.
"None of them have been successful so far," I reminded him.
"That may be, but I'm curious about the avenues you have pursued. It may give me some ideas."
I took in the serious eyes and the determined set of his jaw, hinting at a resolve I could relate to so well.
"Looking to fix your world, Reeve?"
"My reactors enabled Shinra's utilization of Gaia's Mako reserves on a whole new scale. I'd say the fame and glory comes with a certain degree of responsibility."
He offered a wry smile, but his voice held the same conviction I saw in his eyes.
"All right," I said, smiling. "Let's grab some coffee first, though. This could take a while."
I wasn't sure if Reeve's call would bring Reno in the same day, but as the clock was about to reach five in the evening, the Turk strolled into the workshop. Unfortunately, his demeanor hadn't changed. Reno remained aloof and distant, barely acknowledging me before engaging in discussion with the other man, yet I could have sworn I sensed his eyes on me whenever mine were averted.
"Reno, could you walk Tess back to her room?" Reeve asked once the two had come to an agreement. "We're done here for the day."
The Turk was already halfway to the door. Had I not been watching him leave, I would have missed the way he froze for a moment.
"Whatever, yo."
I bristled at his irritated dismissal, but Reno refused to meet my heated gaze. He leaned back against the wall by the side of the door and busied himself with his phone while I finished up and said my goodbyes to Reeve. He said nothing to me as I came up to him, just held the door open and fell into step beside me once I had passed through.
I'd had enough. Just as the elevators came into view, I stopped in my tracks. The Turk halted a couple of steps later and turned his emotionless face to me, only raising an eyebrow.
"Take us somewhere we can talk," I suggested.
"The fuck's there to talk 'bout?"
A prickly and uncooperative reaction, much like the man himself. Unsure of how to tackle this, I decided to play it straight.
"You're acting weird. I don't like it."
My forthright reply didn't go over well, though the only indication was a slight narrowing of the eyes. I was surprised that I was able to pick up on it, to be honest. I must have been getting better at reading the man.
"Yeah?" he asked in a bored voice. "You're bein' pretty damn annoyin' yourself right now."
"And now you're being a jerk, too," I snapped.
Something flashed in his eyes, breaking the damnable apathy. My brain made an unexpected connection and reminded me of a similar situation in the past.
"Do I have to throw goddamn paperclips at you before you'll listen to me?" I asked, giving him a pointed look.
That had the desired effect. Reno tensed for a second, taken aback, then looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
"Come on, take us somewhere quiet," I said in a softer tone. "Please."
"Fine, whatever."
After a short elevator ride, we arrived at a balcony about midway up the Shinra tower. Used for smoking breaks, I surmised, spotting several ash trays by the wall and railing. About a third of the city – a third which didn't contain the gaping hole of Sector 7, I noted – spread out far below us. The neon lights were beginning to glow brighter in the approaching dusk, though they could not compete with the Mako reactors in the distance, or the greenish light bathing the tower itself.
It was a calm night, with only a slight breeze jostling my curls from time to time. I inhaled deeply, breathing in Midgar air for the first time. There was an unusual smell, faint but enduring, as if it was a part of the city itself. It reminded me of ozone, but with a strange undertone I couldn't place. Mako, I guessed.
Reno walked over to the railing and placed his hands on it, hunching his shoulders as he scanned the view. The man had literally turned his back on me, as if this wasn't difficult enough as it was. I was no expert on dealing with sensitive topics. I couldn't even claim to be a particularly good listener.
Why had I suggested this again?
I nearly planted my face in my palm when I made the connection. Curse that blasted Reeve and his subtle instigation! It had been deliberate, I was sure of it. Well, that answered the question of how the mild-mannered man had managed to land a high-ranking position in such a cutthroat environment.
I wanted nothing more than to flee back to the elevators, but I had pushed us this far already. I couldn't back down now. I steeled myself with a deep breath, then broke the uncomfortable silence.
"You seemed very angry that night..."
"Fuck yeah, I'm angry."
My voice was too timid and hesitant, his more like a growl. What a great start. I folded my arms over my chest as if to shield myself, then asked the first thing that popped into my head.
"Do you blame yourself?"
Reno scoffed and pushed himself up straighter.
"The hell kinda question is that?" he snapped, digging around one of the jacket pockets with jerky movements. "I dropped the damn thing, didn't I?"
Okay, maybe that wasn't such a great strategy. While the redhead lit a cigarette from the carton he had produced from his pocket, I pinched the bridge of my nose and gave the next comment some thought before opening my mouth.
"It couldn't have been just you, though. An operation like that can't have been a one-man job."
"Yeah, sure, it wasn't just me. Tseng planned it. Rude rigged the bombs. I set 'em off. It was a real first class team effort, yo."
The sarcasm in the last sentence was so thick I could practically feel it stick to my skin and draw out an irritated blush. With some difficulty, I suppressed the automatic aggravation and focused on what he had said. Rude's name I had heard before. I guessed Tseng was another Turk.
"And the President gave the order. It wasn't your idea."
"Yeah," he said, his tone flat. "Just followin' orders, like the good lil' Shinra dogs we are."
Why did I bother? I wanted to know more so I could understand, but instead of leading to answers, everything I said just seemed to give him more anger to bottle up. What was I supposed to do? Were there any right questions at all? What if there were no answers I would want to hear?
I almost jumped at the sound of his voice when Reno decided to continue without another prompt.
"It wasn't always like this, y'know. I mean, the job was never 'bout rainbows and unicorns, but that was okay, 'cause someone's gotta do what it takes to keep things rollin', yeah? The righteous pricks out there who cry 'bout the shady shit Shinra does would cry a whole lot louder if the Mako powerin' all their precious thingamabobs suddenly stopped flowin'."
He paused to inhale a lungful of smoke, which escaped gradually in sharp, agitated puffs as he spoke.
"Sure, some of the shit we did wasn't pretty back then either, but at least it made some damn sense. Think I'm gonna feel bad 'bout breakin' some punk's fingers when he just blew a bunch of Shinra employees sky-high? Think again. You ask me, assholes like that have it comin'."
I was not as horrified as I would have expected by his casual admission of inflicting serious injury. The fact that I already knew the man was capable of it and worse was hardly an explanation; if anything, it would have been – should have been – a very good reason to leave. Yet instead I moved in beside him and leaned on the railing. That was perhaps the most alarming factor of all in this equation.
The Turk had fallen silent, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the muscles in his jaw working. I tilted my head his way, but kept my eyes on the cityscape in front of us.
"So, what happened?"
Reno took a long drag of his cigarette, followed by an even longer exhale while he stared at the city below. He showed no inkling of answering, though I couldn't tell whether he hadn't heard my question or had decided to ignore it. I was already wondering if I should try again, when he spoke up.
"I dunno. I can't even say when it changed. It just started goin' downhill bit by bit, y'know? You start out chasin' spies and terrorists, then before you know it, you're messin' up helpless scientists and goin' through with fuckin' mass murder 'cause the boss man says so."
His voice was rising, both in pitch and volume. Now that Reno had gotten some wind into his sails, he didn't need my help to keep going.
"Why'd they have to call 'emselves fuckin' AVALANCHE? These new guys ain't nothin' like the old AVALANCHE, but old man Shinra went off the rails as soon as he heard the name. Finally turned into a complete fuckin' nutjob. I mean, droppin' a goddamn plate just to wipe out a handful of terrorists? What the fuck is up with that?"
He was breathing heavily and his hands were locked tight around the railing, the knuckles whiter than his pale skin. I was uncomfortable being this close to him when he was so furious, but I forced myself to stay still. It wasn't aimed at me. He wouldn't take it out on me, either. I hoped.
"But what the hell could we do?" he scoffed. "We were already up to our eyeballs in shit with the old Prez. Fuckin' do or die, man. I'm no goddamn saint, so if I gotta choose, it ain't gonna be the Turks who do the dyin'. Not if I can fuckin' help it."
Reno was quiet for a moment, staring out at the darkening horizon with unseeing eyes, his chest heaving with labored breaths. Then he laughed; a high-pitched, mocking laugh that didn't sound like him at all.
"Best part is, it didn't even fuckin' work! Thousands dead and those AVALANCHE asshats are still runnin' around out there. Last time we saw 'em, we didn't even bother to fight 'em. Hell, we ended up workin' with the bastards!"
I chewed my lower lip as I listened. I had prodded and poked, driven by a need to understand, and now my brain was busy trying to reconcile Reno's side of events with the news reports and rumors, as if by analyzing everything thoroughly enough I could come up with a rational explanation. Something I could point to and say "the facts clearly show that this was wrong".
The more I heard and digested, though, the less inclined I was to let my mind continue its work. This wasn't science. It wasn't beautifully ordered black and white, but a chaotic mess of endless gray: subjective, flawed and very much human.
"It's all a joke, ain't it? Just one big fuckin' joke, only it ain't funny."
On an intellectual level, I understood that the Sector 7 incident was an immense travesty. Emotionally, however, it was harder to comprehend. Maybe my moral compass was damaged, because at that moment, this single, tangible instance of suffering was much more meaningful than the unfair fates of faceless strangers. This wasn't my world, my city. The lost lives were distant and abstract, while the anguish of the man beside me was very real.
I placed my palm between his shoulder blades. When he didn't move, I began to rub slow circles on his upper back. Even through the layers of fabric, I could feel the tension. I continued the serene motion in silence while Reno finished his cigarette.
Little by little, the rock-hard muscles began to loosen up. When he straightened up, crushing the stub under his boot, I heard him release a shaky sigh. Something about that sound, about the despondency it carried, struck a chord with me. Before I could think it through, my arms were wrapped around his waist. My heart jumped into my throat as soon as my brain caught up with my actions, but recoiling would just have made it worse. I stayed as I was, anxiously waiting for a reaction.
Reno didn't return the tentative hug, but he didn't push me away either, nor did he tense up again. He just stood still and let me hold him. My pulse began to calm down. I closed my eyes. After a while, I felt him rest his chin on my shoulder.
"A guy tells ya he's an evil, selfish asshole and you give him a hug," he mumbled close to my ear. "There's somethin' wrong with ya, Fitz."
"You know, I think we finally found something we can agree on."
I could feel the vibrations as a quiet chuckle reverberated deep in his chest. He placed a hand on the nape of my neck and leaned his head against mine for a second, then pulled away.
Funny how such a small, brief acknowledgement of appreciation could feel so much more intense than grand gestures or dramatic words. I didn't know where to look. I faced the railing and grabbed it because I didn't know what to do with my hands, either.
The air felt cool after the heat of his body so close to mine. When I closed my eyes for a moment, I could still feel the smooth fabric of his suit under my fingers, could recall the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle touch on my neck. I had intended it as comfort for him. I hadn't known that a bit of physical human contact could ease the constant yearning for home in my own heart.
When I eventually glanced up at him, Reno was still avoiding my gaze. The anxious energy was gone, though, as was the anger. There was no smirk dancing in the corner of his lips either, no cocky facade. The thoughtful expression on his face made him appear older, yet at the same time much too young for that worn look around his eyes.
I looked out over the city. It was almost dark now, but the streets below pulsed with the artificial luminescence of street signs and headlights. By contrast, the thin gaps between sectors were nearly black, making it easy to distinguish the triangular slices.
Reno had pulled out the cigarettes again. After I declined the offered pack with a little shake of my head, he took one out for himself.
"Which sectors are these?" I asked as he lit up.
The man pocketed the lighter and leaned on the railing before answering, bending down to rest his elbows on it this time. The wind caught some of the strands that jutted out above his beloved goggles and made them sway back and forth.
"That's three," he said, gesturing to the left-most section, "four and five."
He used two fingers to point out the sectors; the cigarette sandwiched between them glowed like a small guide light as it indicated each sector in turn.
"Where do you live?"
"Five." He took a puff of his smoke, then leaned farther over the railing, craning his neck. "Can't see it from here, tho'. It's right behind that big pipe there."
He waved his hand in the general direction of one of several huge pipes that snaked their way down along Shinra HQ. I followed it down with my eyes, then began weaving a winding route through the brightly lit streets of Sector 4. A shy smile appeared on my face as I toyed with the thought of being down there, walking the streets of this strange new world and exploring what it had to offer.
"Do you think I'll get to see it some time?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting to hear the "no" I was expecting.
Reno turned his head to give me a bewildered look.
"Huh? My place?"
"No," I said with a small laugh. "The city. The streets of Midgar."
The Turk blew smoke out of his nostrils as he studied me for a few seconds, then let his gaze follow mine down to the lights below.
"Yeah. You'll see it someday." The cynical smirk returned, instantly making him appear more like his usual self. "Don't get your hopes up, tho'. It looks better from up here, yo."
My smile grew wide and I leaned over the railing to see more of the tantalizing view. A gust of wind took me by surprise and sent a chill down my back. Caught up in the emotional turmoil, I hadn't realized how cold it had gotten. Now that I had noticed, it was impossible stop shivering.
"C'mon, enough loiterin'," Reno said, taking one last drag before the half-smoked cigarette met the same end as his first. "You'll see it again soon. Midgar ain't goin' anywhere."
A/N:
Just FYI: this story won't go into detail about the trouble between the Turks and old President Shinra, mentioned by Reno here and Reeve in the previous chapter, but it refers to events in Before Crisis.
Thanks for reading! I wrote and rewrote this and the previous two chapters more times than I can remember before posting. If you have any thoughts on the final result that you feel like sharing, I'd really love to hear them!