drabbles
He is an old man when he finally dies. He goes in his sleep, and thinks that this is ironically suitable, because in his aging he has come to terms with the idea of growing stately, of growing into brittle bones and has accepted the way his memories have begun to blur. He will be the first to outlive two of his employers and to pass wisdom onto a third. Tseng is amused by the fact that Reeve is still going strong, and recalls thinking that overwork and stress was going to do Reeve in some day.
He is surprised, when he steps into death that someone is waiting for him. Her hands are linked behind her back and there's a smile that tugs at his heart. "...is it that time already?" She asks, almost to herself, before holding a hand out, "Welcome to the Promised Land, Tseng." The mischief is clear on her face, and he is glad that he could imagine the grin in the palm of her hand as something for him.
"How do you think you're gonna die, Rude?"
"..."
"I think I'd like to go out in one of those big explosions. You know, like a hero. Then you can all cry over my body and think of how you'll never get fucked like that--"
"SENPAI!"
"What? You know it's true. 'Sides, I bet if I asked you, you'd give an equally sickening answer."
"I would not! I'd. I'd want to... uhm. Die by his side, you know. Or something like that..."
"See? Absolutely sickening."
"That is not! Just. Just because yours is like that..."
"Awesome, like awesome you mean?"
"Why do I even bother."
"Good question, want another drink, Rude?"
"...it's good to see you, Cloud."
There's no real answer to that. Not when he carried the most important parts of the person in front of him so close to his heart. He could only bow his head, ask his body to hold him up, ask his heart to hold tighter to the pieces he'd been given.
"..."
"Hey."
But that wasn't quite enough.