Getting Caught
Tseng slept restlessly for the rest of the night after returning to his room. The interlude with Kariya—whatever it had actually been—was weighing heavily on him because of the realization of some of the things he'd never been able to—deal with his first time through. As such, he had little likelihood of fixing them this time around, and had only just realized it had, and it would, shut some doors to him forever. And when his mind had begun working on 'those problems' and what negative impact they had on his life, he was finding a lot more wrong than just issues with his sex life.
It also meant he was remembering things from his distant past which he really didn't want to remember, and which resulted in frequent nightmares.
And that was on top of the residual pain wracking his body and the incessant murmur of voices in his head which were driving him crazy, Aeris' advice or no.
He woke tired and still not really ready to face what his new situation entailed, but now that it was morning, he knew he had to. There were things he had to do, prepared or not. Opening his eyes to his new-old room reminded him again that this really wasn't a dream, he really was back in his old life. The walls were a faint cream, the floor brown with green edges—carpet in the bedroom, tile in the en-suite bathroom. The counters, cupboards, and bed frame were in basic steel gray, and the bedding Tseng had bought soon after being moved to the room was green—he'd had to replace the gaudy, red bedding with the Shinra logo in white on it which the rooms all defaulted to.
The living room and kitchen had the same floors and walls as the bedroom and bathroom, the former again with carpet and the latter with tile, and the guest bathroom (just a sink and toilet) and small storage and laundry room had tile. Again, any cupboards and counters were in steel gray. His furniture was the default furniture provided by Shinra—two couches and chairs across a metal coffee table, and a round, metal kitchen table with three chairs, all in clinical gray. There was nothing on his walls, any of them.
Every single apartment on the Turks' and SOLDIERs' floors (they were the only Shinra personnel who lived in the building, other than students at the Academy living in student housing) looked exactly like his other than the furniture they chose to personally replace. Veld was one of a very few known to have another residence...And actually, if what Kariya had said about 'sparing him two years ago' was right, Kalm had been firebombed around two years ago, so Veld didn't have a home besides the apartment anymore, either.
The first thing Tseng did after getting his bearings back was find his personal handheld system (or PHS for short) and open it to check the date—only to realize it needed a password, which he had to struggle to remember as it was one he'd used many, many years ago and had since changed multiple times. He couldn't even see the date until he could get the right password. As such, he had to search through his memory for several minutes until he thought he had the right one. The first try didn't work, but his second one did.
The date jumped out at him: September twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety-eight.
Very rapidly, he assessed several facts. Almost all the Turks he'd worked with against AVALANCHE hadn't even been hired yet—Illis, Emma, Ruluf, Freyra, Alvis, Quis, and Judet. Reno was only barely a Rookie, having joined back in April. Balto had joined them two years ago, but was still working with a different branch. Rude had joined three years ago. Maur had been hired about a month ago, and was working with a different branch. Cissnei was thirteen and still in training, but known to be—ready to join the Turks when she turned fourteen and legally became 'an adult' (maybe he should take some time to teach her money management before she joined the Turks?).
For that matter, Aeris as her living self would only be thirteen as well, and Zack's living self would be fourteen. The latter would probably currently be in the Cadet program for SOLDIER. Every other Turk currently working in his department would have been the old hands, and some of those would actually be pretty new hires.
After assessing those points, he looked again at the pile of Materia on his bed, instinctively reaching out to find Aeris'—Airmed's—shard and fiddle with it as he tried to decide what his best course of action was.
Would he even be able to handle seeing Sirra, Ansha, and the other old hands alive and well again? That was besides Kariya, a question he really didn't want to ponder, but it was fairly safe to say he wouldn't be meeting him again due to Veld's interference keeping them apart. At the moment, he was glad of it.
He was eighteen—actually, he was seventeen until November second. His body was younger and less damaged, but also less well-trained. Some of that 'training', he'd probably never be able to get back (then again, he wasn't sure he wanted some of it), but he'd have to work fast to get back into the shape he needed to be in so he'd be able to do the things he was used to being able to do. Combat especially—he'd instinctively do what his older self would have done, but some of those things, he knew his younger body wasn't yet capable of. It had been fourteen years, after all.
What would really catch him up was his new knowledge and how he wrote out his mission reports. Veld would notice something 'not right' immediately, because the man had periodically been checking up on him, almost mentoring him, since he'd been ten. After eight years, the 'fatherly' man knew him very well, and he wasn't going to be seeing a transition of skills or presentation, he was going to see an instant and large shift.
As much as Tseng was good at his job, and at hiding the full extent of his skills, he legitimately didn't remember how to act like he had back when he had been eighteen—and therefore wasn't capable of acting as he had back then...right now. It was enough just for him to try to get used to wearing his hair up again after he'd taken it down to show his shame at failing dismally to protect both Midgar and Cloud and Zack, nearly at the expense of all the Turks.
On the other hand...that event hadn't happened yet, so technically, he hadn't failed to save them. Was his train of thought enough to overcome the mental and emotional impact those few days had had on him?
:You had better, big brother,: Aeris—Airmed—told him in a dry tone. :Remember, you'll still have to check up on my younger self, and you'll have to meet Cloud and Zack again. Put your hair back up—you've more than repaid the shame, anyway.:
He had to sigh at the words from her, knowing on some level that she was right but not really willing or able to face it yet. Either way, willing, able, or otherwise, he had to put his hair up, or everyone in Shinra would know something was wrong with him.
Dropping the red orb back into the pile, he went and got ready for work, realizing he'd be late if he didn't leave soon—and he was going to miss breakfast as it was. Oh, his day was going to be a good deal of fun without food and as little sleep as he'd gotten, not to mention the ache...Paperwork it would be. At least he didn't have to try to 'decide what to wear' because the Turk uniform was unchanging, a fitted black suit, white shirt, black tie, and brown shoes. As he had always worn it to the letter, it was most definitely the most familiar thing to him in the time he was now living in.
The last thing he did—after drawing in a deep, steadying breath—was to gather his hair into the high ponytail he'd worn it in back then, and reached into his pocket instinctively for the tie he'd always kept in it. As he was tying it off, he paused as he realized the action had truly been instinctive, then finished tying the ponytail. Putting his hair up had felt right, and he now felt better, stronger, a little more able to face the situation he was now in, no matter how it went (well, unless it went entirely badly, and there was potential of that). The realization was—enlightening, if delayed.
Once he'd changed, he looked at the Materia again and decided he'd need more time to do something about them—sort them out properly—so initially, he just did a quick switch with a few of them, making sure the more advanced Full Cure was there (though, with it nearly Mastered suddenly, some of the Turks who knew what it was would probably raise brows), as well as Airmed paired with a Final Attack, and on a whim, the Underwater Independent Materia. With those on his wrist bracer-like 'armor', he knew no one would be able to see them unless he showed them, because his sleeve covered it. As he'd mentioned Leviathan to Kariya, who had probably mentioned it to Veld after—leaving for or returning from—a mission, he shoved it in his pocket.
It absently occurred to him as he prepared to leave that trying to hide anything from the Turks was a lost cause, and everyone was going to notice something different about him within the day. Or a lot of things different. Rather than even trying, which would lead them to actual suspicion of his betrayal of them and of Shinra, it would be better to just face it and get it over with. Ultimately, that was also the only reason he should even be going in to the office in his current state, 'planned' or not.
Finally, he headed out to the Turks' offices on the fifty-sixth floor of the Shinra building. It was almost surreal to be walking through the plain, uniform, steel-gray halls of the building, stepping into the glass elevator, and even walking into the large main office his branch of the Turks worked out of. He remembered which one was his desk, even at eighteen, and knew the door in the back of the room led to Veld's private office. The door was shut, so he had something confidential to work on.
What he didn't remember was exactly which missions he was currently working on right then, so was glad there were folders on his desk. Reno's red hair was very visible as the sixteen-year-old from the Slums pouted over a folder on his desk near the front door, and Tseng had to hold back a small smile at the familiarity of it. He'd found something which hadn't changed, and probably never would. Of course, what had changed was that the red haired teen made a sneering face at Tseng as he passed (which hadn't happened for at least thirteen years), but the sneer vanished abruptly for some reason. As a new Turk, he and Reno hadn't been close...
Sitting at his desk, Tseng opened the top folder to scan the data on the first page—and almost groaned as he remembered the mission. It had been completely insane when he'd first worked on it, and had ultimately resulted in a break-out of some of the monsters in Hojo's Labs on the sixty-seventh and sixty-eighth floors, which the Turks had needed to stop somehow. In that case, they'd had to call in a few SOLDIERs, and had just gotten whoever had been handy at the time—Genesis, who had been a bloody arrogant sod then. Until he'd almost gotten plastered by one especially stubborn, regenerating monster. Tseng hoped that if he couldn't change the result of the mission, Genesis wouldn't be either so arrogant or so stupid this time around.
Checking the other file made him wish he could just tell them who the leak was, but if he did something so obvious, things would go downhill very fast. Especially because he'd have to accuse someone currently in President Shinra's favor and he himself would probably end up being accused of being the leak due to being Wutain.
As such, on both of the files, he just made some preliminary notes—probably similar to what he'd first done fourteen years ago as he was basing the notes just on the data in the files—then went to his filing cabinet to file them. He used the excuse of filing them to quickly flip through the codes for the other missions and investigations which weren't complete, mind working on what each one was. Some came to him quickly and easily, but others didn't. His best bet was to start with the most urgent ones as far as working on them went, so he pulled a few of those out, ones he wasn't remembering easily, and returned to his desk with them. Since it wasn't unusual for him to work on a few of them at a time, he could easily take three, and hopefully jog more of his memories.
It worked, but in his exhaustion, he kept having to re-read the files, or even re-write his notes. He'd lost a night of sleep, not eaten a meal before work, or both, before and had still gone to work and done his job as normal, without these kinds of issues. It wasn't a unique situation, so he should have been able to work like normal.
:Except you spent a large part of the night in pain, which saps a huge amount of strength just not sleeping or missing a meal doesn't. And the voices are still distracting you, whether you want to pretend you can't hear them or not,: Aeris put in, her mind-voice amused.
:You're saying I'm having so many issues because Minerva decided to stuff herself in my body, basically?: he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.
A sudden feeling of being watched made him look up, quickly glancing around the room—and the only one who wasn't absorbed in their own work was Reno, whose bright, blue eyes tinged with green met his gaze. They were narrowed and intent on him, but for the life of him, Tseng couldn't read the look in those eyes, and that worried him. The only time he couldn't read Reno these days was when he was planning something Tseng was probably not going to like.
:Yes. And you didn't get a good rest after that, so if you pay attention to your body, you'll find you're actually still feeling phantom pains. Your lack of rest meant your body wasn't allowed to recover, so neither was your mind,: she explained.
The Wutain returned his gaze to his file abruptly as he caught a glance of orange when the door to the office opened.
It wasn't Kariya—it couldn't be Kariya. He'd just go back to work and pretend the man 'wasn't' there, probably to give his report to Veld.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Black-gloved hands landed on his desk as the older man leaned close and told him just loudly enough for him—but no one else—to hear, "No, not happening, Baby Turk. I'm not gonna let you ignore me now. Things aren't gonna go the same way again."
This wasn't supposed to be happening.
With a small sigh, Tseng answered as softly, "I thought we had established the situation—and that it wasn't going anywhere—last night." He refused to look up.
"I said I wouldn't be one of your conquests, not that I wouldn't support you as much as I could. That's why I'm not gonna let you ignore me—not when I know damned well you're gonna need support and someone to cover for you with that Blessing."
"In exchange for what?"
"I'm not asking for anything except a chance for us to get to know one another properly—and maybe a chance to try fixing whatever screwed up your head so badly."
"I already told you, I wasn't able to fix that, even after fourteen years, Kariya," Tseng sighed again softly as he realized Reno was still watching them—and probably lip-reading both of them. And if that was the case, he was already screwed.
"Look at me, Tseng," the older man ordered softly, but in a fierce tone which prompted the younger Turk (even at his older age, this Kariya was still older than him) to look up slowly. When he met the man's eyes—not his shades, but his bright green eyes—Kariya went on, "You never actually tried to fix it last time." As Tseng opened his mouth to protest, the older man went on, "No, don't bother denying it. You never tried last time, or you'd have at least fixed enough of it that you wouldn't have run away last night. If I've got any chance to be even your friend instead of barely an acquaintance to you, I'd rather that than to let things go the same way. You need people close to you who you can trust, and I'll tell you right now—you're the one I'm loyal to, not Veld. I've never been loyal to Veld."
"You—last time—refused to re-join the Turks when I asked, but did when Veld asked," the younger Turk answered with a dark look. "You're not loyal to me."
"Wrong again," the older man answered with an almost-smirk. "I don't know that whole situation, but if it has anything to do with those 'beach bimbos', I'd bet I went back to help out after you asked, and only because I turned up there right then did Veld ask me. If I was already there—why would I have left again? But in that case, I did go back because you asked, otherwise I wouldn't have been there to start with. Am I right?"
"How the Hellfire did you manage to read that much in to what we talked about last night and just now?" Tseng had to blink in something like amazement.
"I told you, I know myself. And Baby Turk, I know myself very well."
"You don't even know what fixing the situation is going to entail," the Wutain said with a faint glare, trying another tactic after the previous one had failed spectacularly. "It's going to—require actions against Shinra."
Kariya looked amused at the words, asking in reply, "You think I—the Death God of the Battlefield—will care if I have to blow up some Shinra agents or whatever? Really?"
...He had a point. The Death God of the Battlefield had earned the name because he'd been particularly efficient at killing Shinra employees—SOLDIERs and Turks especially—so it was ludicrous to think he'd care at this point. With Aeris giggling into his head, the babbling of the voices he wanted to pretend didn't exist, and Reno's eyes (probably) on them, he really felt outnumbered.
With an exhausted sigh, Tseng dropped his head onto his desktop, not realizing how much attention from the other Turks the action drew—they all looked up at him, and at Kariya, at the motion, and he didn't realize it. At that point, he didn't really care, either. He really was too tired for this. His eyes had even closed as soon as he'd put his head down, begging for sleep.
"So even though I humiliated myself in front of you last night, you're not going to leave me alone to lick my wounds?" the now (almost) eighteen-year-old asked softly.
"You didn't humiliate yourself in front of me, you got your ego bruised because you've never had someone say 'no' before," Kariya nearly whispered in amusement. "And no, I won't, because if I let you lick your wounds now, you'll never get over it. I told you—not happening. Learn to deal with it instead of trying to pretend it didn't happen."
"Kariya, why are you here?" a bland voice suddenly asked, and both Tseng and Kariya looked in the direction it had come from—Veld's office door. At the door stood Veld with Reno beside him (when had Reno moved?), the red haired sixteen-year-old's eyes still narrowed as he watched Tseng. Brown haired, dark eyed Veld had no expression, a state he'd been in since Kalm had been firebombed and his wife and daughter had—supposedly—both died in it. There were some scars on Veld's face, and hidden under his uniform was a cybernetic fixture covering a good part of the right side of his chest and replacing his right arm. He'd lost those in the firebombing. White gloves covered his hands so he could hide the prosthetic limb for tactical advantage.
"I couldn't stay away this time since things went better than anticipated when we met unexpectedly last night," Kariya shrugged, completely unrepentant as he leaned his hip on the edge of Tseng's desk.
"And if that's the case, why does Tseng look exhausted and unwell?" Veld asked.
"That's not got to do with me," the orange haired man answered with a mild shrug.
The older Turk's eyes—Veld was easily the oldest Turk in the room, as a Turk's life expectancy was normally less than eight years of service—went to Tseng as he asked, "Is he telling the truth? Or perhaps at this point, I should ask if you'll answer me honestly."
A sudden yawn from Tseng caused Kariya to snicker as several other Turks blinked in surprise, and Tseng held a hand to his head tiredly. When Reno gave a single, very slow blink, the Wutain realized Reno was assessing him like a target for a mission—and the question then was—why? He had also obviously been the one to go get Veld (and Tseng was actually very worried by how he'd apparently missed the younger man moving), something Tseng didn't associate the sixteen-year-old Reno with. At that time, the younger Turk had pretty much hated him and would be happy to see him suffer...but at this moment, he clearly thought he was helping somehow.
Finally, Tseng answered, "That would best be discussed somewhere—private."
The phrase basically meant 'not in your bugged office, not in the bugged main office, and not in the bugged personal offices we don't really use anyway.' Veld motioned for Kariya, Reno, and Tseng to all follow him, then led the way from the main office to the personal office which technically belonged to Tseng, where the entrance to their command center was hidden. In the hall just before the two oldest Turks stepped into the office, Veld whispered to Kariya, "Wait in the office until I send Reno or Tseng to get you," then opened up the command center for them. The Turk currently in the room to monitor the cameras—Ansha, obvious by her blond-streaked, wildly spiked, long, black hair—quickly stepped out as she saw Veld with the two younger Turks.
Veld then faced Reno first and said, "Tell me what made you think I needed to intervene so Tseng and I both understand your reasoning, Reno."
"First point is that Tseng was fine yesterday when he left, yo," Reno said, crossing his arms. "In one night, he looks like he hasn't slept in days, looks half-starved, he's obviously distracted, an' he looks like he's in agony."
The assessment made Tseng's eyes close, because by itself, that was damning. What else could Reno actually say?
"He's favorin' his right arm and leg."
He was? Tseng truly hadn't realized it, but that had been the side bruised by the Materia.
"He's avoidin' lookin' at others—not even avoidin' lookin' at them, but he's just not lookin' up at all."
Oh, that he had been doing, and should have known it would be damning.
"When he finally looked up at me, it was like he was lookin' at a ghost, yo, and he looked down right away again soon as Kariya came in. It took Kariya orderin' 'im to make 'im look up again after that. And they had a really—interestin' discussion, somethin' about Kariya wantin' Tseng to fix something he hadn't in fourteen years. Didn't they only meet two years ago, yo?"
He had known Reno was lip-reading, so what had possessed him to keep talking? Probably his tiredness and Kariya's insistence on making him talk...
"He's actin' like a damned rape victim, 'cept he went downhill way too fast, yo."
After a silence, Veld asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, "Tseng, what actually happened to you last night? Is Reno right in his assessment?"
Tseng rubbed his eyes for a moment before looking up at Reno sharply to ask, "Why do you suddenly seem to 'care' when I know damned well you hate me?"
Both Veld and Reno looked taken aback at the retort, but when real worry entered Veld's gaze when he hadn't been showing any emotion for almost two years already, Tseng realized both that he was far too tired for this and he had messed up royally.
Reno, on the other hand, suddenly punched him in the shoulder as hard as he could as he snarled, "Asshole!"—and Tseng realized he was in no shape to so much as keep himself on his feet. He should have seen the blow, been able to stop it even, but instead, he found himself on the floor, his shoulders and head against the nearest wall, and the now-injured shoulder (and his head, actually) throbbing as he used his other hand to cover it. His head went—unsoothed.
After that, he didn't even bother trying to get up—it was too much work and his body now officially hurt too much. Instead, he drew himself into a sitting position against the wall, pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and rested his head on them. Maybe, with how tired he was, he'd even be able to catch a cat-nap...
"Tseng..." Veld sighed softly, then fell silent again for a moment. Finally, he asked, "Is Kariya the reason for your state? You know he's not here to stop you from telling me the truth."
"Stop making assumptions," Tseng answered sharply, voice soft and muffled by his arms and knees. "He's got nothing to do with this, except for stopping me from accidentally walking off the edge of the landing pad in the middle of the night. Or would you rather he let me walk right off the fifty-ninth floor of the Shinra building?"
Silence fell again for a long moment before a hand rested on his shoulder. "Will you please tell me what happened, Tseng?"
"...Let me sleep for awhile first...please...I'm obviously not thinking straight if I snapped at any of the Turks like I just did..." Tseng sighed, really just feeling defeated for a minute. He'd really have liked some warning of how hard it would be to have Minerva suddenly housed in his body. He may have just called in sick if he'd known exactly how much effect it would have on him or how much said effect would be visible to the others around him.
"...Very well. I'll leave Reno to watch over you until you wake," Veld answered.
"But he—" Reno began to protest.
"Reno." Veld's one word made the red haired teen stop. "Stay. Words like those should never have come out of Tseng's mouth, tired or otherwise, but right now, he's so tired he has no censor. Right now, what he said is actually true—he feels you hate him. While he's sleeping, maybe you should start reviewing how you've treated him since joining which may have left him with that impression."
"...Fine..." the red haired teen agreed with a clear pout in his voice.
As much as Tseng wasn't so sure that was a good idea (not at this point in time, anyway), apparently his exhausted body and mind didn't really care, because he drifted right into sleep to the sound of the door shutting softly and Reno huffing a quiet sigh.