FicWad

Chapter One

“Reno!” Tseng called, striding down the hall.

Reno hissed in annoyance. Okay, so maybe he’d missed a couple meetings lately, but those were for legitimate personal reasons. As far as Tseng knew. But then the bastard would be paranoid enough to spy on him and find out he’d spent that time passed out on his couch. He grit his teeth as he turned, biting back the urge to cringe.

“I’ve gathered intelligence that you’ll find interesting. You’ll find it interesting because I’m sending you to verify it.” Tseng announced, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Reno rolled his eyes. “What, you’re sending me out to the boonies because I missed two meetings?” Reno whined, spreading his arms wide.

“I’m sending you to ‘the boonies’ because we have an unconfirmed report of someone who’s able to heal Geostigma, and your proxy drew the short straw. Oh, and it was three meetings.” Tseng replied evenly.

“Heal? As in cure? Oh come on, Tseng, we’ve been getting reports from every crackpot witch doctor from Gungaga to Neiblehiem! Why send me out on this one?” Reno growled, spitting the words out bitterly.

“Junon. Now. I think this one will at least turn up something of use. And you’re the only man for the job.” Tseng answered smugly, throwing a stack of papers into Reno’s chest.

“That’s reassuring.” Reno grumbled, almost at a loss for words. Tseng never worked on hunches. He knew, or at least strongly suspected, more than he was telling Reno. Not that that was unusual. Tseng may play the nice guy, but most days he really got off on that power trip bullshit. But then, that was practically a pre-requ for becoming a Turk in the first place.

Reno sighed as he climbed into his chopper, wincing. He was glad it was just the four of them around; he had less people to hide from. He just hadn’t been at his best since the explosion.

“So, there are still some suckers who haven’t given up on Junon, huh? Poor bastards.” He muttered while stiffly adjusting himself in his seat. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could get some sleep at night, but his subconscious seemed to hate him more than Avalanche ever did.

He skimmed the papers Tseng had handed him in the chopper. They were the typical ‘soothsayer claims Geostigma can be healed; desperate idiots fall for it’ bullshit they’d been flooded with for several months straight. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to shoot more -- the jackasses spreading false hope or the dumbasses who bought it. But then, most days, he’d give anything to be able to believe that stuff could really happen, not that that helped him decide who was more deserving of a bullet.

………

Junon was just as miserable and deserted as he remembered. People skittered around like they were under the Plates. Of course, even Seventh Heaven customers skittered around Turks, so he couldn’t tell if it was Junon or just him. But, once he managed to corner the little rodents and get them to stop whining about their crapshoot town, they actually seemed to have useful information.

Local talk all pointed to an old broad on the outskirts of town; that’s how Reno found himself starring at a dump, literally, and wondering how to go about knocking when a home is made out of garbage and there’s no clear indication which piece is the door. He was about to start testing all the likely candidates until something budged when he heard a familiar sound that still managed to make his skin crawl.

“Help, oh please…” An old woman’s squeal. Not knowing quite what he’d find and not sure whether or not to hope she’d be the one he was looking for, the Turk took off towards the voice. A crowd of teenagers was pressing in on a shriveled form, jeering and throwing whatever they could. Usually Reno liked a good mob scene as much as the next Turk, but something about this one made him sick. The kids yelled out their taunts as the woman sunk further and further into herself, bags of fresh supplies muddied at her feet where they’d fallen from her shaking arms.

“Sick hag’s always hanging around those cursed ‘Stigmas. What makes you think you’re welcome to breath our air?”

“Yeah, if you’re in such a hurry to die, take them with you to hell, don’t bother us!”

“You’d be doin’ ‘em a real favor, puttin’ ‘em out of their misery instead of lettin’ ‘em think they can come ‘round with their filthy disease!”

“We don’t want them, we don’t want you!”

“So, a few of you brave lads saw the crone shopping, followed her at a distance, and waited until you were twenty to one and far enough out of the town to not be heard before you finally got up the courage to jump her. I’m real impressed. But you can’t have any real fun with a shriveled old lady. Why don’t you try me instead? I’ll even fight one-handed, if it makes ya feel better.” Reno’s smirk was downright predatory as he tapped his magrod meaningfully against his shoulder. For all this good-guy crap, he still loved watching the horror of recognition when people realized they had just slipped on the food chain from hunter to prey.

“Aaand wwho thehellareyou?!” A big guy in the back stuttered, watching Reno’s weapon the whole time. Reno didn’t like that look so much. The appraising, is-he-really-a-Turk-or-does-he-just-have-the-weapon look. Although he did get a certain amount of satisfaction from the little wheels that so obviously turned in the tough guy’s head. The either-way-I’m-still-safe-because-he-has-to-go-through-the-other-guys look. Reno did a quick calculation on which of the little snots bones would be the most satisfying to break first. Pelvis, probably. Lifetime of pain, no way he’s going anywhere, he’d probably get trampled by his buddies, and if he survived that, then Reno could teach him a proper lesson in how to address someone who’s really a Turk.

“Not that it will matter much soon, but Reno Sinclaire’s the name. Folks like you tend to call me the last thing they saw while still breathing that air they’re so protective of.” Reno cackled, scattering the beasts like cue balls. But a wrinkled hand grabbed his arm firmly before he could give in to his predatory instinct to pursue.

“Wait! You’ve done more than enough, thank you. They know not what they do!” The crone’s voice met his ears desperately, slicing through the thin veil of rage that had nearly been unleashed on her, unthinking.

“Jokers like that, it does the world a favor to get rid of ‘em. But whatever you say, ma’am. I’m not here for them, and if you want to be stoned as soon as I leave, it’s none of my business.” Reno shrugged, good-naturedly but shaken as he rubbed where her fingers had no doubt left bruises on his arm. He’d have fun explaining that one if Rude found out.

The woman laughed harshly.

“Oh, some days it feels I’ll not die as soon as I’d like. Tell me, Reno Sinclaire, did you come to see old Mammy River for yourself or…”

“So, you are the broad I was lookin’ for. I guess gossip still travels fast here. Actually, I think my boss would like to hear your theories on Geostigma. He’s looking to save the world these days.” Reno smiled, throwing her a wink.

“Ah, yes, dear Rufus. He’s come so far, finally embraced his great destiny.” The hag talked mostly to herself, muttering as she gathered her things. Reno, stunned, watched her with narrowed eyes. “But does he not seek to save himself? Perhaps there are miracles after all, but until I am sure, I cannot come. But if even a Shinra can see the light… perhaps there is reason to hope.” Then she straightened and addressed Reno more clearly, as if reading his mind. “Oh, deary me, yes, I know who and what you are, child, and I’m afraid Rufus’ quest must take him elsewhere than my humble home. But you, Reno Sinclaire… To you I owe a great debt.” Her eyes sparkled as they met his, taking him aback, even though her smile was sad. Reno gulped, uncertain if he was dealing with a prophet or a madwoman and even less clear on which he would prefer, then collected himself.

“Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or why you know what you know, or even what exactly you do know, but if you can’t or won’t help, forget it. I didn’t do squat for you, really.” Reno replied, turning on his heal.

“Oh, you did. The old Reno, the one with only two concerns in the world, Sinclaire and ShinRa, died in that explosion. For better or worse, you are now saddled with a conscience, my dear, because your destiny and Rufus’ are linked, they always have been, just as all the Turks are bound to him. But you especially. That’s why you suffer, as he does.” The hag’s laugh turned into a rasping cough, and she gripped Reno to keep herself steady. He bit back a wince as her fingers dug into tender skin, even through his clothes. While he was glaring down at her, she threw him a wink between coughing, her hand moving along the line of pain.

“How did you… look lady, only two people know about that, and one of ‘em’s me, so what are you playing at, making yourself a third?” Reno demanded once she released him, his nerves making him angry.

“I can always tell when one has been touched, Reno, there is no need for anger. You received the Stigma same as Rufus had to have. But only I can lift it for now. There will be others who can cure it, surely, down the road. Unfortunately, for now, there is only Mammy River. I want to repay you, but I can only do so at a price.” The woman told him, drifting into her dreamy voice again before wet, imploring eyes searched his. Reno knew somehow that she wasn’t talking about money.

“What kind of a gimmick…” Reno barked, but the crone spoke again.

“Oh, I cannot heal it, little one. How I wish it were so simple as to take it into myself, but that is not allowed. I can only transfer it from one to another. I can offer no other comfort than to place your burden upon another. Do you have one you are willing to burden so?” She asked, her eyes slowly brimming with tears as she nearly snapped the arm she had grasped halfway through her speech. Reno shook himself, trying to process all he’d heard, a glimmer of hope flickering in the back of his mind that he had to wrestle with for a long moment.

“Wait… so you’re saying you can take Geostigma from one person and give it to another? No wonder those kids were afraid of you, probably thought you’d poison them in their sleep or something. There’s no way I’d stick some poor bastard in my business like that; this is my problem. But… I know a better way you can repay me. Can I be the recipiant, instead?” Reno asked breathlessly. As much as the little voice told him to dump it off on some bum, he really couldn’t do that now. And besides, he knew a better use for this one favor. His pulse was racing, and his vision blurred as his life raced before his eyes. Was he really dumb enough to do this? Then his personal documentary hit the mansion on that fateful day. Of course he was. He already had.

“I beg your pardon?” The woman choked, pleasantly, heartbreakingly surprised.

“There’s someone else I want you to heal.” Reno bent to her eye level, suddenly perfectly calm. The placid smile arresting his usual, sordid mirth was unlike any other expression that had ever crossed his features.

“I… Is that the payment you truly desire?” She whispered, careful to keep her face and voice neutral, her breath smelling of decay. Reno took a deep breath, ignoring the smell, nodded, then spoke.

“Yes. That is exactly how I want you to repay me.”