Final Fantasy 7 (Turks/Rufus)
Title: Loyalty
Author: Emerald Embers
Rating: PG
Word count: 1463
Summary: After the blast at the Shinra building, how everyone fitted together became pretty clear.
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Tseng/Elena, Elena/Rufus, Rude/Reno and mild Reno/Elena.
For all they teased her about her emotional nature, Elena's frequent inability to contain herself was occasionally a relief for all of the Turks. She had a knack for saying what needed to be said in amongst everything that didn't, saying what the others could not, and once in a while she was simply left to speak for all of them.
"Why in god's name didn't you leave Midgar?" She half-yelled, half-sobbed, clinging as tightly to as much of him as possible given Tseng had commandeered his left hand. "Don't you ever think about your own safety?"
"Mmmr," Rufus agreed, or disagreed. It was kind of hard to tell, all things considered he was faintly catatonic from pain. "Nngk."
"We're supposed to protect you! We told you to stay in one of the safe houses in case Diamond attacked! Did you think you were being brave? It was stupid!"
Reno felt something that might have been called remorse (if it had grown a spine before he squashed it down) as he interrupted. "You know, we should get him flown out to Junon. He looks pretty sore."
"On it," Rude replied, ditching his shovel and digging out his PHS, given most of the mobile stations in Midgar had been knocked out during the explosions. The efficiency made Reno grin; some people actually asked why he loved this man, as if he had a choice.
Pretty much everyone went quiet when Tseng spoke up. "It'd make all our lives easier if you'd stop getting yourself killed, sir."
Elena smiled like it hurt to do so, releasing Rufus long enough to let Tseng get involved in the embrace. Regardless of developments in their own relationship, Elena knew Tseng would always have a place in his heart for Rufus that equalled hers. You couldn't blame anyone for being smitten with the president, least of all Tseng - Rufus was charming, good-looking, and aside from the Turks, about the only high-powered individual in Shinra who didn't have something against Wutaians.
Besides - it wasn't as if they had people to care for other than each other, and given they'd half-adopted Rufus across the years it made sense they felt something like affection for a president who could operate a gun with damn near a Turk's skill.
Whirring started to block out all noise, and Elena turned to assess the situation, relieved to see the area Rude and Reno had cleared for the helicopter.
"Think it's safe for us to carry him?"
"It's pretty obvious he's not broken any vertebrae," Tseng remarked with more than a slight tinge of frustration, "And he isn't bleeding to death. I'd say it's safe."
"Right." Elena took hold of Rufus' legs, Tseng his shoulders, both of them forcing down any reaction to the unholy sound that escaped Rufus when they lifted, carrying him the short distance to the helicopter and lowering him.
"Room for two more?" Asked Reno, leaning casually on his shovel until the concrete beneath him rumbled threateningly. "Er, please?"
"Sorry - only got room for five. You good to get down from there?"
"You what-" Reno began Rude clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a significant look. "Yeah, we're good. You guys go get him stitched up."
Rude waved his PHS at the helicopter, gestured for it to take off.
"I'll call you when we get to the hospital!" Elena promised, strapping herself in and trying not to glare too much at the paramedic looking over Rufus' wounds. Tseng didn't try anything.
"Well, great," Reno grumbled through a smile of gritted teeth that lasted as long as he could see the helicopter. "So now we have to climb down how many floors?"
"You could always risk the elevator," Rude replied with a smirk before heading for the rope that had helped them all up onto the roof. Now the trajectory was downwards Reno couldn't help going a little green, so he tried to distract himself with conversation while keeping a death-grip on the rope.
"You think blondie's gonna be okay?"
"He'll be fine. Tougher than his father." Reno had to admit, there was something fun about getting whisked through a window by his partner.
"True. Hell, you saw what he was buried under. Think daddy let Hojo give him his shots?"
"No thinking about it," Rude replied, lowering Reno by the arms through a new entrance to floor fifty-eight from fifty-nine.
"Think Elena and Tseng're... you know... alright?"
"They thought he was dead. Anything's better than that."
"Hn." Ah, this part. Elena had been a better fit and he'd enjoyed watching her ass wriggle as she crawled through, but nevermind. He squeezed through the narrow gap, held the door open from the only side you could; on the way up they'd searched everywhere and found through this door no Rufus, but a very present and in very good condition fire staircase. Could walk most of the way from here. "Hey, Rude?"
"Yes?"
"What if... nah... but what if it'd been me up there? Only, you know, if I didn't make it?"
"That didn't happen."
"But if it - " Reno found his mouth squeezed shut by insistant fingers and bruising lips on his own for a too-brief moment.
"Didn't happen and won't," Rude replied, continuing on down the staircase with stormy eyes, sunglasses faded slightly in the dark.
Reno blinked a moment longer before grinning. "Think Rufus'll mind if we put our beers on him tonight?"
"As long as you don't mean on his hospital bed, no."
Reno made a quiet "Whoop!" sound in victory and continued down after Rude, promised himself that he would make the bald Turk thankful he was a softie on the quiet.
Oh hell no. Okay, having Tseng there with him was a bonus, but the promised land wasn't meant to be sore, and - oh, wait. Elena wasn't dead, unless he'd missed something major.
The skin under his eye hurt, all things considered he'd done his best to shield it from the blast. "Where am I?"
"Junon."
"God," Rufus groaned. He hated Junon. Hated the Costa Del Sol more, but still. "And Midgar?"
"It's pretty much gone, sir. Reeve's going to look after rebuilding for now, but we'll probably lose most of the sectors and have to move into the desert space."
"Hm. At least there'll be less rickets."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"It's a joke, Tseng. More sun from the new holes in Midgar, less people with rickets. Especially in the slums." Rufus smiled, weakly. "Never thought I'd see you miss a beat."
"Sorry, sir."
"Do I have any get well soon cards? Or flowers?"
"Not yet, sir."
Rufus nodded before shuddering violently and swallowing down vomit. Okay, so concussion meant little or no head movement for now. At least they'd found him before he started having to drink rainwater. "Elena, there's about two-hundred gil in the sole of my left boot. Go get some flowers, will you? Something extravagant that doesn't reek."
Dull movements down by his left foot and thank god, he could feel them.
"There's only a switchblade, sir."
"Damnit, right boot. Sorry, Elena."
"No problem, sir." Dull movement by that foot, tapping of feet across the room, and a door opening and closing.
"Where's my get well kiss?"
"Cameras, sir."
Rufus rolled the eye not covered in bandages, pulled out the handgun concealed at the back of his trousers and handed it over. "Fix that."
Four shots and then a firm mouth was against his, and even if it split his lip again he wasn't going to complain. Oh - stirring downstairs. That boded well for the future too, once the surgeons finished slicing off his clothes where the material had welded itself to his body. Thank god he'd paid extra for natural fabrics in his suits, else there'd be a lot more welding to deal with. "Weren't you supposed to be dead?"
"Only badly injured, sir. Same as you."
"Good to hear." Rufus raised his left hand carefully, stroked Tseng's hair for a brief moment, containing himself to keep up appearances and stop his wounds getting over-stretched. "Very good to hear. How long until surgery?"
"Five minutes, sir, with your permission."
"Thank you, Tseng." Rufus settled back against the sheets and let the Wutaian leave, smiled a little as he did.
"That'll be two-hundred fifty gil please, miss."
"Two-hundred fifty? What, are these flowers going to cure him as well as cheer him up?"
"Sorry miss but the world's gone a little crazy and so's business. Two-hundred fifty."
Elena looked at the flowers, then the shopkeeper, then the flowers again, before sighing and digging into her own pocket. It was a pretty big occasion, after all.
Besides, Tseng still owed her dinner.
The End
Author: Emerald Embers
Rating: PG
Word count: 1463
Summary: After the blast at the Shinra building, how everyone fitted together became pretty clear.
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Tseng/Elena, Elena/Rufus, Rude/Reno and mild Reno/Elena.
For all they teased her about her emotional nature, Elena's frequent inability to contain herself was occasionally a relief for all of the Turks. She had a knack for saying what needed to be said in amongst everything that didn't, saying what the others could not, and once in a while she was simply left to speak for all of them.
"Why in god's name didn't you leave Midgar?" She half-yelled, half-sobbed, clinging as tightly to as much of him as possible given Tseng had commandeered his left hand. "Don't you ever think about your own safety?"
"Mmmr," Rufus agreed, or disagreed. It was kind of hard to tell, all things considered he was faintly catatonic from pain. "Nngk."
"We're supposed to protect you! We told you to stay in one of the safe houses in case Diamond attacked! Did you think you were being brave? It was stupid!"
Reno felt something that might have been called remorse (if it had grown a spine before he squashed it down) as he interrupted. "You know, we should get him flown out to Junon. He looks pretty sore."
"On it," Rude replied, ditching his shovel and digging out his PHS, given most of the mobile stations in Midgar had been knocked out during the explosions. The efficiency made Reno grin; some people actually asked why he loved this man, as if he had a choice.
Pretty much everyone went quiet when Tseng spoke up. "It'd make all our lives easier if you'd stop getting yourself killed, sir."
Elena smiled like it hurt to do so, releasing Rufus long enough to let Tseng get involved in the embrace. Regardless of developments in their own relationship, Elena knew Tseng would always have a place in his heart for Rufus that equalled hers. You couldn't blame anyone for being smitten with the president, least of all Tseng - Rufus was charming, good-looking, and aside from the Turks, about the only high-powered individual in Shinra who didn't have something against Wutaians.
Besides - it wasn't as if they had people to care for other than each other, and given they'd half-adopted Rufus across the years it made sense they felt something like affection for a president who could operate a gun with damn near a Turk's skill.
Whirring started to block out all noise, and Elena turned to assess the situation, relieved to see the area Rude and Reno had cleared for the helicopter.
"Think it's safe for us to carry him?"
"It's pretty obvious he's not broken any vertebrae," Tseng remarked with more than a slight tinge of frustration, "And he isn't bleeding to death. I'd say it's safe."
"Right." Elena took hold of Rufus' legs, Tseng his shoulders, both of them forcing down any reaction to the unholy sound that escaped Rufus when they lifted, carrying him the short distance to the helicopter and lowering him.
"Room for two more?" Asked Reno, leaning casually on his shovel until the concrete beneath him rumbled threateningly. "Er, please?"
"Sorry - only got room for five. You good to get down from there?"
"You what-" Reno began Rude clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a significant look. "Yeah, we're good. You guys go get him stitched up."
Rude waved his PHS at the helicopter, gestured for it to take off.
"I'll call you when we get to the hospital!" Elena promised, strapping herself in and trying not to glare too much at the paramedic looking over Rufus' wounds. Tseng didn't try anything.
"Well, great," Reno grumbled through a smile of gritted teeth that lasted as long as he could see the helicopter. "So now we have to climb down how many floors?"
"You could always risk the elevator," Rude replied with a smirk before heading for the rope that had helped them all up onto the roof. Now the trajectory was downwards Reno couldn't help going a little green, so he tried to distract himself with conversation while keeping a death-grip on the rope.
"You think blondie's gonna be okay?"
"He'll be fine. Tougher than his father." Reno had to admit, there was something fun about getting whisked through a window by his partner.
"True. Hell, you saw what he was buried under. Think daddy let Hojo give him his shots?"
"No thinking about it," Rude replied, lowering Reno by the arms through a new entrance to floor fifty-eight from fifty-nine.
"Think Elena and Tseng're... you know... alright?"
"They thought he was dead. Anything's better than that."
"Hn." Ah, this part. Elena had been a better fit and he'd enjoyed watching her ass wriggle as she crawled through, but nevermind. He squeezed through the narrow gap, held the door open from the only side you could; on the way up they'd searched everywhere and found through this door no Rufus, but a very present and in very good condition fire staircase. Could walk most of the way from here. "Hey, Rude?"
"Yes?"
"What if... nah... but what if it'd been me up there? Only, you know, if I didn't make it?"
"That didn't happen."
"But if it - " Reno found his mouth squeezed shut by insistant fingers and bruising lips on his own for a too-brief moment.
"Didn't happen and won't," Rude replied, continuing on down the staircase with stormy eyes, sunglasses faded slightly in the dark.
Reno blinked a moment longer before grinning. "Think Rufus'll mind if we put our beers on him tonight?"
"As long as you don't mean on his hospital bed, no."
Reno made a quiet "Whoop!" sound in victory and continued down after Rude, promised himself that he would make the bald Turk thankful he was a softie on the quiet.
Oh hell no. Okay, having Tseng there with him was a bonus, but the promised land wasn't meant to be sore, and - oh, wait. Elena wasn't dead, unless he'd missed something major.
The skin under his eye hurt, all things considered he'd done his best to shield it from the blast. "Where am I?"
"Junon."
"God," Rufus groaned. He hated Junon. Hated the Costa Del Sol more, but still. "And Midgar?"
"It's pretty much gone, sir. Reeve's going to look after rebuilding for now, but we'll probably lose most of the sectors and have to move into the desert space."
"Hm. At least there'll be less rickets."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"It's a joke, Tseng. More sun from the new holes in Midgar, less people with rickets. Especially in the slums." Rufus smiled, weakly. "Never thought I'd see you miss a beat."
"Sorry, sir."
"Do I have any get well soon cards? Or flowers?"
"Not yet, sir."
Rufus nodded before shuddering violently and swallowing down vomit. Okay, so concussion meant little or no head movement for now. At least they'd found him before he started having to drink rainwater. "Elena, there's about two-hundred gil in the sole of my left boot. Go get some flowers, will you? Something extravagant that doesn't reek."
Dull movements down by his left foot and thank god, he could feel them.
"There's only a switchblade, sir."
"Damnit, right boot. Sorry, Elena."
"No problem, sir." Dull movement by that foot, tapping of feet across the room, and a door opening and closing.
"Where's my get well kiss?"
"Cameras, sir."
Rufus rolled the eye not covered in bandages, pulled out the handgun concealed at the back of his trousers and handed it over. "Fix that."
Four shots and then a firm mouth was against his, and even if it split his lip again he wasn't going to complain. Oh - stirring downstairs. That boded well for the future too, once the surgeons finished slicing off his clothes where the material had welded itself to his body. Thank god he'd paid extra for natural fabrics in his suits, else there'd be a lot more welding to deal with. "Weren't you supposed to be dead?"
"Only badly injured, sir. Same as you."
"Good to hear." Rufus raised his left hand carefully, stroked Tseng's hair for a brief moment, containing himself to keep up appearances and stop his wounds getting over-stretched. "Very good to hear. How long until surgery?"
"Five minutes, sir, with your permission."
"Thank you, Tseng." Rufus settled back against the sheets and let the Wutaian leave, smiled a little as he did.
"That'll be two-hundred fifty gil please, miss."
"Two-hundred fifty? What, are these flowers going to cure him as well as cheer him up?"
"Sorry miss but the world's gone a little crazy and so's business. Two-hundred fifty."
Elena looked at the flowers, then the shopkeeper, then the flowers again, before sighing and digging into her own pocket. It was a pretty big occasion, after all.
Besides, Tseng still owed her dinner.
The End