Twelve Days of Christmas Meme -- Fic #2
#2
for duelist
The door was flung open, banging against the wall with such careless force that it banged shut and open twice. Light footsteps, Reno’s tenor: “The Boss is -”
“Breathing,” Rude’s pointed rumble of a voice cut in curtly. The bigger man’s footsteps were deliberate, heavier.
“Yeah, but Rude, he doesn’t even twitch when I poke him.” Rufus felt a poke, and heard an exhalation - not a sigh, too short and frustrated for one. Reno sat on the bed, weight crinkling the mattress. “You think he’s ever gonna wake up?”
A snort. “Say that in front of Tseng.”
An answering snort. “Yeah right. He’ll have me wiping his chocobo’s ass for the next month.”
Silence. Strange sound, a green sound, the liquid unfamiliar trill of birdsong. Last time he’d heard a bird sing was… was…
“Boss’s lucky you knew what to do,” Rude said, his low voice curiously soft.
The timbre of the silence changed, though the birdsong remained the same.
Rufus felt more than heard the shrug in the slight quiver of the bed. But that was an incomplete answer, and everyone knew it, so Reno conceded, “Deal with someone that sick for that long, you learn a few things. I tell you, man, I never wanna cath someone again. I never wanted to cath anyone, ever. Wasn’t written in the Book of Reno - ‘cept I guess it was, yo. And IVs? Boss is lucky he’s so white or I’da missed them totally. It’s harder than you think, you know, and I ain’t got a knack for the, the healin’ arts or whatever. Took me ages to cast my first Cure, and I didn’t do it right till after I’d already got Fira down -”
Rude turned the words aside with a three-word parry and the ease of someone who’d known Reno for years. “Who was it?”
Another silence, tenser, longer.
“My father.” A short laugh and Reno continued as if nothing he spoke was of import. “Mako poisoning, actually. Go figure I signed up with the Turks. Work under the son of the guy who damn near killed my old man.”
“It pays well,” Rude mused. It was exactly the right thing to say, and Reno’s short laugh was more natural this time.
“Not recently, aibou,” groused the other man, his black humor good-natured. But the air grew serious again as he added, “Not if he doesn’t wake up.”
I’m trying, Rufus Shinra thought.
-------------
Elena sang the theme to Loveless, cradling him gently. Rufus hadn’t the strength to so much as lift his eyelids, but he could swallow, and the broth she spooned down his throat tasted like chicken and cabbage and not much else. Chef had never made him a soup like this. Chef was concerned with elegance and class - hah! - with expensive ingredients, more like. The snort escaped his lips, and broth bubbled down his chin.
“Hell,” Elena said softly, and he was regretful to have interrupted her song. She wiped his lips and chin. “You must not like my singing,” she said, sounding nervous. “I’m sorry, Sir.” He tried to shake his head, no, no, he liked it, he did, please keep going, but she was silent for the next few minutes.
Then she spoke, but this time she did not sing his city’s song, and her voice was sad. “You drive Tseng to distraction, you know,” she said. He gulped the broth down greedily. “He’s so worried. He tries not to show it. He knows he needs to be in charge. Until you come back, of course. Sir.”
He didn’t want to hear about people who worried about him and needed him to lead. He wanted to hear her singing, but she just kept talking - “Reno found us this place, just outside of Midgar, a few miles out from the highway. It escaped the worst of the blast, and it’s quiet. And it’s so beautiful, Sir. I wish you could see the trees.” Awe in her voice. “The green. It’s - but - we don’t have time.” She swallowed, audibly, though her hand was steady as she slipped the spoon between his lips. “We need you awake, Sir. Shinra needs - Midgar needs -- we need -”
The creak of the door opening. “Elena,” a man said quietly, but his was the sort of voice that is always quiet; smooth and low, as if silk could speak.
Because Rufus was leaning against Elena, he felt her head jerk up and her heart beat faster. Her hand was so steady, though. “Tseng,” she answered, her voice crisp and professional.
“You’re needed.”
Rufus felt her nod and place the bowl on what must have been a small table nearby. It clanked. “He has an appetite,” she said wryly.
“You think he’ll…?”
“Oh, Tseng.” Her voice didn’t catch, though Rufus’s practiced ear heard the breathlessness and knew it had been close. “I believe he’ll wake up because I need to believe. You’ll finish?”
“Yes.”
Her steps were quick. Rustle of a smart business jacket being shrugged on. Door firmly shut, then the click of business shoes, slightly worn, against a tiled floor.
Tseng sat on the bed and pulled Rufus up against him. The Turk - his Turk, as they all were - was a solid block of muscle in a tailored suit. Only Turks would have perfectly tailored suits a month after Diamond’s rampage.
Tseng did not speak to him, but that was fine. Rufus remembered the Head Turk as a quiet man, and would have been more alarmed to hear him meander aloud as Elena had. Rufus, hungry, didn’t waste time feeling shame in his helplessness, although frustration, always an ember within him, burned.
When he had finished, Tseng lowered his head gently to the pillow. Tseng unfolded himself from the bed, and Rufus felt the blankets pulled up to his chin. The care with which he was tucked in, with which an errant tickling hair was brushed from his face, spoke far more powerfully than words. The window latch was lifted, and a warm breeze swept the room. But Rufus found, after Tseng left, that he was most grateful for the drawing of the curtains, because the sunlight reminded him of human warmth.
-------------
They waited Meteor out, he and Reno, in the third level of the basement of the lodge they were in. Midgar and outlying areas were famous for their elaborate basements - a city with a roof had to expand somewhere, after all, and why not underground? Rufus heard the Planet screaming, and, for the first time in his life, understood what had driven AVALANCHE to its extremes.
“Stupid motherFUCKers,” Reno had cursed steadily since Tseng ordered him into the sub-basement with Rufus, “stupid, STUPID motherFUCKERS!” He held Rufus in his lap, tightly, his whole body coiled like a spring, twitching with every uncertain noise. “Gonna fucking die out there, again, staring up at the sky like they never fucking seen it before and he tells me to fucking stay behind and guard your comatose ass - just so they can stare at the stinkin’ sky.” Reno sounded close to tears, or homicide, but Rufus didn’t for a second mistake that anger as directed towards him, or as real anger.
Shinra’s CEO could override even the commands of the Head Turk - in fact, the Head of Shinra was the only one who could override the Head of the Turks. And as it happened, Rufus found being spirited away into this hidey-hole unacceptable. He had faced a Weapon, after all, stared it in the eyes and dared it to do its worst. Oh, he was afraid, yes! Fear was only respectful in the face of the Planet. But he needed to witness - because he was his father’s son, because Sephiroth’s blood-guilt was on his hands, because he was Shinra and so too, so tragically, was the mad General. But most of all, he needed to witness because he was a human being, and when the Planet spoke, humans must listen. He had learned that much.
Rufus Shinra opened his eyes.
“Take me out.”
-------------
The first thing he saw as the world ended was a bright red streak inches from his nose, and months later, when Rufus thought to tell Reno so, he thought, despite the hundreds of award ceremonies he’d attended in his life, that he’d never seen a man so honored; even Rude’s shades sparkled.
for duelist
The door was flung open, banging against the wall with such careless force that it banged shut and open twice. Light footsteps, Reno’s tenor: “The Boss is -”
“Breathing,” Rude’s pointed rumble of a voice cut in curtly. The bigger man’s footsteps were deliberate, heavier.
“Yeah, but Rude, he doesn’t even twitch when I poke him.” Rufus felt a poke, and heard an exhalation - not a sigh, too short and frustrated for one. Reno sat on the bed, weight crinkling the mattress. “You think he’s ever gonna wake up?”
A snort. “Say that in front of Tseng.”
An answering snort. “Yeah right. He’ll have me wiping his chocobo’s ass for the next month.”
Silence. Strange sound, a green sound, the liquid unfamiliar trill of birdsong. Last time he’d heard a bird sing was… was…
“Boss’s lucky you knew what to do,” Rude said, his low voice curiously soft.
The timbre of the silence changed, though the birdsong remained the same.
Rufus felt more than heard the shrug in the slight quiver of the bed. But that was an incomplete answer, and everyone knew it, so Reno conceded, “Deal with someone that sick for that long, you learn a few things. I tell you, man, I never wanna cath someone again. I never wanted to cath anyone, ever. Wasn’t written in the Book of Reno - ‘cept I guess it was, yo. And IVs? Boss is lucky he’s so white or I’da missed them totally. It’s harder than you think, you know, and I ain’t got a knack for the, the healin’ arts or whatever. Took me ages to cast my first Cure, and I didn’t do it right till after I’d already got Fira down -”
Rude turned the words aside with a three-word parry and the ease of someone who’d known Reno for years. “Who was it?”
Another silence, tenser, longer.
“My father.” A short laugh and Reno continued as if nothing he spoke was of import. “Mako poisoning, actually. Go figure I signed up with the Turks. Work under the son of the guy who damn near killed my old man.”
“It pays well,” Rude mused. It was exactly the right thing to say, and Reno’s short laugh was more natural this time.
“Not recently, aibou,” groused the other man, his black humor good-natured. But the air grew serious again as he added, “Not if he doesn’t wake up.”
I’m trying, Rufus Shinra thought.
-------------
Elena sang the theme to Loveless, cradling him gently. Rufus hadn’t the strength to so much as lift his eyelids, but he could swallow, and the broth she spooned down his throat tasted like chicken and cabbage and not much else. Chef had never made him a soup like this. Chef was concerned with elegance and class - hah! - with expensive ingredients, more like. The snort escaped his lips, and broth bubbled down his chin.
“Hell,” Elena said softly, and he was regretful to have interrupted her song. She wiped his lips and chin. “You must not like my singing,” she said, sounding nervous. “I’m sorry, Sir.” He tried to shake his head, no, no, he liked it, he did, please keep going, but she was silent for the next few minutes.
Then she spoke, but this time she did not sing his city’s song, and her voice was sad. “You drive Tseng to distraction, you know,” she said. He gulped the broth down greedily. “He’s so worried. He tries not to show it. He knows he needs to be in charge. Until you come back, of course. Sir.”
He didn’t want to hear about people who worried about him and needed him to lead. He wanted to hear her singing, but she just kept talking - “Reno found us this place, just outside of Midgar, a few miles out from the highway. It escaped the worst of the blast, and it’s quiet. And it’s so beautiful, Sir. I wish you could see the trees.” Awe in her voice. “The green. It’s - but - we don’t have time.” She swallowed, audibly, though her hand was steady as she slipped the spoon between his lips. “We need you awake, Sir. Shinra needs - Midgar needs -- we need -”
The creak of the door opening. “Elena,” a man said quietly, but his was the sort of voice that is always quiet; smooth and low, as if silk could speak.
Because Rufus was leaning against Elena, he felt her head jerk up and her heart beat faster. Her hand was so steady, though. “Tseng,” she answered, her voice crisp and professional.
“You’re needed.”
Rufus felt her nod and place the bowl on what must have been a small table nearby. It clanked. “He has an appetite,” she said wryly.
“You think he’ll…?”
“Oh, Tseng.” Her voice didn’t catch, though Rufus’s practiced ear heard the breathlessness and knew it had been close. “I believe he’ll wake up because I need to believe. You’ll finish?”
“Yes.”
Her steps were quick. Rustle of a smart business jacket being shrugged on. Door firmly shut, then the click of business shoes, slightly worn, against a tiled floor.
Tseng sat on the bed and pulled Rufus up against him. The Turk - his Turk, as they all were - was a solid block of muscle in a tailored suit. Only Turks would have perfectly tailored suits a month after Diamond’s rampage.
Tseng did not speak to him, but that was fine. Rufus remembered the Head Turk as a quiet man, and would have been more alarmed to hear him meander aloud as Elena had. Rufus, hungry, didn’t waste time feeling shame in his helplessness, although frustration, always an ember within him, burned.
When he had finished, Tseng lowered his head gently to the pillow. Tseng unfolded himself from the bed, and Rufus felt the blankets pulled up to his chin. The care with which he was tucked in, with which an errant tickling hair was brushed from his face, spoke far more powerfully than words. The window latch was lifted, and a warm breeze swept the room. But Rufus found, after Tseng left, that he was most grateful for the drawing of the curtains, because the sunlight reminded him of human warmth.
-------------
They waited Meteor out, he and Reno, in the third level of the basement of the lodge they were in. Midgar and outlying areas were famous for their elaborate basements - a city with a roof had to expand somewhere, after all, and why not underground? Rufus heard the Planet screaming, and, for the first time in his life, understood what had driven AVALANCHE to its extremes.
“Stupid motherFUCKers,” Reno had cursed steadily since Tseng ordered him into the sub-basement with Rufus, “stupid, STUPID motherFUCKERS!” He held Rufus in his lap, tightly, his whole body coiled like a spring, twitching with every uncertain noise. “Gonna fucking die out there, again, staring up at the sky like they never fucking seen it before and he tells me to fucking stay behind and guard your comatose ass - just so they can stare at the stinkin’ sky.” Reno sounded close to tears, or homicide, but Rufus didn’t for a second mistake that anger as directed towards him, or as real anger.
Shinra’s CEO could override even the commands of the Head Turk - in fact, the Head of Shinra was the only one who could override the Head of the Turks. And as it happened, Rufus found being spirited away into this hidey-hole unacceptable. He had faced a Weapon, after all, stared it in the eyes and dared it to do its worst. Oh, he was afraid, yes! Fear was only respectful in the face of the Planet. But he needed to witness - because he was his father’s son, because Sephiroth’s blood-guilt was on his hands, because he was Shinra and so too, so tragically, was the mad General. But most of all, he needed to witness because he was a human being, and when the Planet spoke, humans must listen. He had learned that much.
Rufus Shinra opened his eyes.
“Take me out.”
-------------
The first thing he saw as the world ended was a bright red streak inches from his nose, and months later, when Rufus thought to tell Reno so, he thought, despite the hundreds of award ceremonies he’d attended in his life, that he’d never seen a man so honored; even Rude’s shades sparkled.