The Devil's Own

.o.

She'd heard all the rumours; by the time she joined them, she knew almost each one by heart. Her parents never understood their eldest child's fascination with the blue-suited myths, fearing that her curiosity would only hurt her – and more importantly, them – in the end. The same went for her 'unfeminine' interest in anything mechanic; hoping to cure it, they sent her to a prestigious university in Junon, hoping that four years of nothing but would cure their headstrong daughter.

Perhaps it might have, if she hadn't met a lecturer by the name of Tseng Yashida in her second year. She was never afraid of him, unlike her classmates, who feared the fiend that smooth words and finely tailored suits suppressed. She knew – of course she knew – but her heart chose to see the man, and not the monster that she knew he could be. Elena did the best she could in his course, which was wise; he expected no less, and even shewas awarethat disappointing him would be unwise.

As the marks were released, she stifled a squeal of triumph; the second highest grade in his class was hers.

He was impressed with her work, feather-light grasp on her arm stopping her in her tracks before she left his classroom for the last time. Pressing a lily-white card into her hand; his name on one side, an eight digit number on the reverse, a ghost of a smile quirked the corner of his lips.

"I don't need to tell you not to lose this," he said softly.

"N…no, Professor," she replied, starry-eyed nineteen.

At her words, he shook his head; slight, like all his movements were. "Not anymore. Tseng will do."

"Tseng it is, sir," Elena replied, smiling carefully.

He cocked an eyebrow at her old-fashioned address, but his smile remained. "Keep your marks up, Andrews, and give me a call when you're done here. I have… connections… that might appeal to you." Holding the door for her, Tseng wondered at his sanity as she walked through it, and followed her out.

It didn't matter. Today was likely the last day he would hear from her; the girl was brilliant, if bubbly, but she was soft. Weak. He could train her arms and legs to fight, but as he watched her dash down the hall, catching up to a small group of girls and bursting into giggles as she did, Tseng wasn't sure if he wanted to train her heart…

.o.

Two years later, she graduated with honours, and he stood in the back of the auditorium; expressive eyes hidden behind perpetual sunglasses. Tseng had him flown out for this purpose because he was tied up on a mission with Reno, and Rude wondered at the girl; barely more than a wisp, and yet the recent focus of the Leader's quiet attention. Blonde and rather pretty; subtle gold sparkling at all points, professionally layered hair to match it swirling about her shoulders – a rich girl who he might have known in his past life – he dismissed her, questioning Tseng's angle until he got close enough to see her eyes.

They were gold, too, and he shook his head at his recent turn of poetics. At any other moment, they would be hazel; plebeian and unremarkable, but even her triumph could not disguise the curiosity and alloyed steel underneath.

This was Tseng's new recruit? This shining, innocent sylph walking towards him as if she knew him?

"Hello, Mr. Kirov," she said as she reached him, extending a hand towards him. "Tseng sent you, I take it?"

Rude blinked. She did know him, even despite the steel-grey suit and fedora he'd donned to blend into the crowd of graduates and flash-happy parents. He supposed it was the sunglasses… that, or she was a better hacker than her files indicated. "He did, Ms. Andrews. You have one week to consider his offer." Taking her hand, he was pleasantly surprised to see that she did not wince under his grip, returning it admirably.

Elena's smile became a grin. "That sounds like him, all right. Thank you…" Elena's voice trailed off as a pint-sized copy of herself who was enveloped in bubblegum pink barrelled into her leg. " 'Letta!" Elena cried, picking her younger sister up with some difficulty. "Ooof…You've gotten bigger, little sis."

Proudly, Collette grinned back at her. "I know…Rinna says I'm gonna be taller than you, 'Laney…" But the little blonde's attention was caught by the bemused man standing not far from her sister, and she trailed off, only to pipe up again with a devilishly curious note in her voice. "Who's this," Collette asked, pointing jam-sticky fingers at a bemused Rude. "Your boyfriend, Laney? His hat's funny…"

Blushing furiously, Elena denied it. "This is Mr. Kirov, Collette; he's here to ask me about a job once we're back from our holidays. And I happen to like his hat, little sister…" Lowering Collette, Elena straightened, embarrassed. So much for a good first impression...

"Hello, Mr. Kiroff! I'm Collette, Elena's little sister, 'n I'm sorry I asked if you were her boyfriend…" Scuffing her toe, Collette offered her hand in an unconscious echo of her older sister, much to the quiet amusement of her 'audience.'

Once again, Rude took the hand of an Andrews girl, bending down to shake it carefully. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Collette," Rude replied, the sadness in his tone only caught by her older sister, who bit her lip and wondered just what put it there so suddenly…

"Are Mother and Father here, 'Letta?" Elena asked. She hadn't seen them in the crowd, but she hoped that they cared enough to show up…

Collette's deep green eyes darkened. "'M sorry, Laney. Mother had a meeting, and Papa… he wasn't feeling good." Puffing up in a childish cloud of pink taffeta and golden hair, Collette smiled bravely. "But I came, with Rinna; I promised I would, and that's good, right?"

Running a hand through her sister's hair, Elena clenched her jaw. They would miss her graduation. It figured. But she couldn't take it out on Collette, and she relaxed enough to whisper "of course, Collette; of course…" Catching the eye of her sister's governess, Elena stood; it was time to go. "I'm sorry; you'll have to excuse me, Mr. Kirov."

"We will not be hearing from you, then?"

She pursed her lips, looking back at him over her shoulder. "I don't know yet… I have one week, right?"

He nodded. "You do." He paused, tipping dark sunglasses down to reveal piercingly bright blue eyes. "Happy Holidays, Elena… spend them well."

Elena started – no wonder the man covered his eyes; they were stunning, and she doubted he'd be pleased with hordes of entranced female pursuers – but quickly covered with a quiet "I will. You too, Rude."

With a tip of his hat, he turned as well, and they walked away from each other.

.o.

The week passed faster than it had any right to, Elena mused. Most of it had been spent on the sunny beaches of her home, playing with her sister and forgetting the parents that frowned in disapproval at her newly close-cropped blonde hair and martial arts abilities that she had picked up in her last three years at University.

On the last day Elena trudged up from the beaches, the sand trickling through her toes and Collette's childish hand entwined with her own almost failing to pierce through her thoughts. She didn't want to leave her little sister, but she trusted Rinna, and whispers she'd heard of her own family's poor business decisions in the last handful of years left her with little choice.

For the sake of her sister, she would call him.

She knew that he offered more than a job; urbane, classy Tseng was a bloody murderer; a traitor to the people; a Turk… she knew he offered her the same fate. But she would become part of the greater darkness, if it protected her family – her sister – from the lesser demons that her parents seemed less willing or able to protect them from.

That night, after tucking Collette in and reading a tale from her book of spirit-stories, Elena pulled a dog-eared card from the back of her sweater drawer. She fingered the unfamiliar tips of her short bob with a tinge of regret, but hazel eyes were resolute as she turned the card over, dialled the number, and spoke into the phone.

"Hello?" He answered in an all-too-familiar baritone, smoky and confident, exactly as she had remembered…

"Tseng, please."

"Speaking…"

.o.

It was her second interrogation; the classic scenario had been set up; stark room, one-way glass, light swinging from a bare bulb suspended from the ceiling.

She'd been briefed on her way in, Rude giving her a brief outline; the businessman presently in the small room held extensive ties to the underground arms market in Midgar and Junon along with more sordid affiliations that made her stomach turn. He'd been affiliated with Shinra at one point as well, but the need for a distraction had arisen. AVALANCHE had become the newest public heroes; the last reactor explosion was plastered all over the news, and the resistance was gaining momentum.

In reaction to this, the Company was downsizing, exposing its weaker opponents as the scum they were to distract from their own bad press… often leaving the dirty work to the Turks, much to Elena's discomfort.

A slap to her backside distracted her from her thoughts, spinning irately only to be fixed by her other colleague – Reno, grinning like the Devil himself. As he caught her eye, he winked roguishly. "Go in angry, rookie… it helps." Turquoise eyes narrowed, looking in on the manacled businessman. "He's a bastard; don't you dare guilt trip yourself. Anything you do to him is more than well-deserved."

"You're a bastard, Reno…" she found herself replying, half in jest.

Reno couldn't help but chuckle. "Touché." Pausing to run a hand through his hair, he caught her eyes again, voice softer. "But Grube… he's a fucking coward. Fear the ones that look respectable, Lane, cause they're usually way worse than poor slobs like me…"

At her hesitance, his eyes sparked and he raised a hand jokingly. "I'll slap you again if you take much longer to open that door. Honest."

"I'm going, I'm going," she huffed, sticking her tongue out at him before she turned the handle all the way.

Opening the door, she found her quarry slouching leisurely in one of the two chairs, raising petulant eyes to her as she entered.

"I don't suppose you could let me go," he asked, rattling the handcuffs that held down his arms, one to each arm of the chair. "It is… undignified, especially in the presence of a woman as lovely as yourself."

"I can't do that, Mr. Grube; I'm here to ask you a few questions. If you answer them to my liking, then you may be free to go. Until then…" Elena sighed as she sat and opened the file. He wasn't going to say anything and even if he did, Rufus had visited her personally to inform her that Marcus Grube would not, under any circumstances, be leaving the room alive.

But Marcus was not the only entity who maintained a semblance of respectability…

Pulling a pen from her small briefcase, Elena looked up and the questioning began, quickly deciding that he was another one of those; slick, self-assured, and disgustingly patronizing. She swore she could almost hear Reno chuckling at her expense from behind the wall covered in one-way glass.

She'd get him back for this, but pushed those thoughts away as she examined the man whose life she now held sway over. He was attractive in a polished, untouchable way, but her lip curled as she felt his gaze measure her.

Half an hour later, nothing had been accomplished, save the creation of an impressive headache. She had to give Grube some credit for irascibility; even bound, he'd had the gall to ask her to dinner after 'this unpleasantness was all cleaned up.'

That was quite enough…

"You," Elena began, pulling a strand of wire from her jacket pocket, "are being decidedly difficult. We have evidence, you pompous bastard, that ties you to three arms rings, and," she paused, her lips twisting with disgust, "several counts of inappropriate conduct involving children. We can crucify you, unless you give us the answers we want."

"I maintain," he purred, "that I know nothing about the…depravities… you allude to, my dear. My company is a purely legal pharmaceutical chain. Nor is there a need for such vulgarity from such a pretty mouth…"

Her smile had lost its charm; this one could cut diamonds, and Reno winced as he watched her from behind the glass. Their awkward, annoying, talkative, sunny, beautiful golden girl was going cold, and some unnameable urge in him wanted to stop her… but he clenched his fists and remained; this was her fight, and fighting it for her would only make things worse.

So he only watched as she stepped behind Grube's chair, tracing one shoulder almost seductively. The wire she had taken out previously was draped casually around the businessman's neck, and Reno grimaced even as he found he couldn't turn his eyes away. He wouldn't have thought that wire was the weapon she'd choose; it was clean, but he didn't think that little 'Laney' had it in her to watch a man die slowly… much less be the one causing it.

"This is the last time I will ask nicely, Mr. Grube. Choose your words wisely."

Marcus Grube looked back at her, a little short of breath, but his eyes still laughing. "You're just a girl; you're not going to kill me…" Inclining his head, he dusted a mocking kiss across her hand, which clenched at the contact. She imagined for half a second where those lips had been, and unbidden, an image of her sister flashed across her mind. For Collette's sake – for girls just like her, and younger – no; no more She'd do this.

"Your mistake," Elena hissed, her eyes golden ice. "I'm a Turk. And you didn't answer me."

She pulled. It wasn't as difficult as she thought it was going to be… he thrashed and screamed at first, but she thought of all those that he had destroyed, and her hands steadied until the once-handsome brunet struggled no more.

Reno winced from where he stood, watching behind the glass. Girl or not, new or not, Elena was a rookie no longer.

.o.

Rookie no longer, Elena was Turk… but there was one final test that she had to pass. Two weeks after she had left Grube slumped in a wooden chair in a bare room, Tseng called her to his office. She had thought it was a normal assembly, until Reno pushed a beige folder across the table to her, his bright eyes unusually solemn.

"What's wrong, Reno?"

He bit his lip before answering, and she could see that both his and Tseng's shoulders were tensed beneath their blue suits. "Just read it, Lane."

So she did, pages fluttering from numbed fingers as she finished. "No…" Elena whispered brokenly. "No…no…no…" With each repetition, her voice gained volume. "I don't care," she continued. "Kill me, if you want, but you can't ask me to…" Fists guarded by fingerless black mythril-strengthened gloves beat against Tseng's impeccable desk, but both males stood firm.

"Face facts, rookie," Reno's retort bit through her tear-stained haze, and although she bristled – he had not called her 'rookie' since that day two weeks ago – she held her silence. "We all did it." His hand traced absently over the scar that danced across his right cheekbone, and not for the first time she wondered… but she did not ask.

"You have four days, Elena," Tseng said quietly, but his words echoed through her mind with a frightening finality. "Reno will be going with you…"

She didn't know if she could reply, her throat aching with suppressed sobs, but she managed a nod and a handful of words. "Please… excuse me for a moment." Nodding brusquely at the other two Turks, who exchanged worried looks once she had turned her back, she left, teetering towards the door on heels that suddenly seemed miles too high. Elena managed to traverse the hallway, and stumbled in a daze into her own office. Moving to her desk, she opened the file once more, steeling herself for what she knew it held.

It wasn't enough; as the unsuspecting images of her parents and sister stared back at her, Elena collapsed into her rickety chair and cried for the first time in five years. She wasn't fooled by the polite wording; where she failed, she knew that the others would not… Irony threatened to choke her; to think she'd become… this… to protect her sister, only to be the one to deal her death in the end.

Four days passed, and they traveled to Costa del Sol, her gun adding a thousand pounds to her bag. Yet for all that, Reno's smile was sharp as he looked back at her from where he sat with the helicopter's pilot. "…You gonna be okay?"

"Sympathy, Ren?"

"Shit, Lane… yeah. Rude liked your sis, and he hates kids. But you gotta admit there's a twisted kind of logic to it…"

Biting her lip – she would not shoot him; it would take the helicopter down, but oh, she was tempted – Elena managed to mutter "…bloody Hades, how? All I see is that Shinra's signed the death warrant for my family, which, by the way, I have to carry out. Twisted sons of…"

Crawling between the seats, Reno moved to sit beside her, slinging a casual arm around her shoulders, massaging them absently. "Tha's enough, Lane. I swear enough for the both of us."

"It doesn't change anything," Elena whispered desperately. "I don't have to do this… you can hide me, and them, and forget that I was a Turk…"

"Denial doesn't suit you, Elena… you know as well as I do that you'd fight for your sister; kill for her maybe. Die for her, sure. I dunno about your old man and mom, they don't seem like the best folks, but Collette… she's your weakness, and we can't afford to have weaknesses. Especially not if they're kids." He paused, running his free hand through his hair. "And I can't hide you; we'd both die for that."

"I know," Elena replied quietly, unconsciously leaning into his arm. "I know…"

They sat in silence – possibly for the first time in their mutual acquaintance – until the helicopter landed, and, with the sky as dark as her heart, they picked up their car and headed for the upscale half of Costa del Sol.

It…didn't hurt as much as she expected; not at first. It helped that her father fired two shots at her as she let herself into the front door with the key she still owned, his mind undoubtedly fogged by the open bottle of vodka dangling from his left hand. She wondered how and when this stranger had usurped the invincible, glorious, brilliant father that she loved so long ago, and fired one shot in return. Still… family was family, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob as she watched him fall.

Reno's voice snapped her awake again as it crackled over her communicator. "Elena?"

"He's dead, Ren…" she replied brokenly. "I killed him… I can't do this."

"You can and you will. Shots probably woke your mom and sister, and the alarm system's going back up in ten minutes." He paused, his voice brooking no refusal. "I'm going in with you."

"No..." Elena hissed. If Collette was going to survive, he couldn't join her. She'd planned to fake her sister's death; a connection she'd made early in her tenure as a Turk was going to spirit Collette away after she and Reno had left.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Suspicion laced his tone, and Elena breathed deeply, praying he didn't suspect her enough to join her.

"It's my fight, Reno."

She climbed the rest of the stairs, and he stayed silent; she hoped he had believed her. Doing her best to ignore the florid bloodstains that painted the stairs and adjacent wall, Elena reached the top, only to jump in shock as Reno emerged from the shadows and steadied her. Moonlight glinted off of his hair, and his eyes glowed in the semi-darkness; he was Hades incarnate in that moment and she knew that she had fallen…

"Then fight," he murmured, his arm around her once more, his poisoned words whispered in her ear. "It's not fair; shit, but life isn't, girl. Leave 'em alive and they'll only be used against you."

She looked at his watch, and bit her lip. "Six minutes," she whispered, in the next heartbeat reaching up to curl her hand around his head, kissing him hard. Desperately. As if she believed she could hide her soul with the shards of his own, even as her hands fisted in his hair and he winced in pain.

Good.

It was sadistically reassuring to know that she wasn't the only one who hurt…

Wiping a tear from her eye with unusual gentleness, his expression was grim as he pushed her towards her parents' door. "Go."

Moments later, two gunshots rang out simultaneously with a girl's scream, and Elena's heart froze. She dashed out the door, whispering denials under her breath, but it was too late.

His magrod sparking and his gun smoking, Reno stood in the hallway, sadness clear in his eyes as he watched Elena emerge, shove past him and run to her sister, who was sprawled on her back in the middle of the hallway, the roses on her pink pyjamas bleeding red.

Eyes blazing as he'd only seen once before, Elena cradled her beautiful, broken little sister. "Letta…" she sobbed. "My Letta…"

"Hey…Laney…" Coughing, Collette opened her eyes. "It hurts…"

Reno was suddenly very glad that Elena had dropped her gun when she had barged out of the room and barrelled him into the wall. He'd be a dead man if she had it now. The kid had surprised him, barrelling into him unexpectedly, and getting a good couple of shots in before his magrod and gun had settled the score. She was a fighter, the little sister, and he wished that things could have been different…

"Shh… you'll be all right," Elena soothed, half to herself. "I'll heal you, and then you can come with us, and Rinna will take care of you…" Elena's hand had almost reached her Cure materia, until Collette's hand twitched, touching her sleeve.

"Don't…"

"Letta… you don't know what you're saying. I know doctors – good ones – and…"

She managed a smile, and it almost broke Elena's heart. "I… do…" Pausing for breath, Collette's smile brightened. "Don't cry, Laney… now… I can be your guardian…" Her voice almost inaudible now, Collette squeezed her big sister's hands. "Love you…"

"Always, little sister. Love you, too…" Squeezing back, Elena let out a broken sob as the opposing pressure faded, and her sister slumped in her arms. Closing Collette's dulled green eyes, Elena bowed her head, tears dancing with blood on their entwined hands.

It might have been a moment… it might have been a lifetime later when Reno walked quietly over to the pair, and lifted the elder of the two into his arms. With a wiry strength she hadn't expected, he carried her out of the house and deposited her in the passenger side of their getaway car. A tear track traced his left cheek, and some part of her healed, seeing it.

A week later, he went to drop the Sector Seven plate, and was flown back to the building half-dead with a serious concussion, a shattered shoulder, a broken arm, and a considerable stab wound running from his left shoulder to his ribcage. She'd seen Strife's sword, and wondered how Reno still lived. A part of her was glad to see him broken though, she realized. He'd killed Collette, and while Reno was part of her new 'family'… she couldn't forgive him, not yet.

.o.

The threads of Fate tangled, and he found her two days after Tseng's death on the President's balcony, shifting from hand to hand the gun that he knew had killed her sister.

"I knew you'd find me," Elena whispered, her voice a studied calm.

Reno only snorted at her fatalistic words, and paced towards the trembling blonde. "You're being fucking melodramatic, Laney. Put the gun down…"

"Why?" she asked, hazel eyes flashing. "I've got nobody to live for, and I'm damned sure that you won't miss the little rookie girl…"

He reached her as she finished, and trapped one of her arms against her side, twisting the other so that the firearm clattered to the concrete below. Kicking it away, Reno's tone betrayed his own pain. "I lost him too," he murmured, tightening his arms around her until she calmed. "Sometimes you have to be able to live just for yourself," he added after a few minutes had passed. "It hurts like a bitch, but you just… keep going, I guess."

Her voice was accusing and biting all at once. "How can you be so cold, Reno? He – Tseng – and Collette…"

Reno laughed bitterly, looking over her shoulder towards the setting sun. "I'm not cold, Laney. I just let it go; it's what Tseng would've wanted. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered; nonsensical words that comforted her and sent chills that were not completely unwelcome down her spine. "I may be the devil you think you know… but I take care of my own."

His lips traced her cheekbone; cinnamon, smoke, and a touch of the unknown. It was wrong, sure; but they were so far over that line that it had ceased to matter.

Before she could react in kind, his arms had released her, and he disappeared without further comment into the building. Elena watched him leave, and then walked to the gun that he had left behind; removing one bullet and tucking it into her jacket pocket. The gun itself she hurled off of the building, turning to follow Reno as the sky over Midgar slowly bled twilight crimson. Thanks to him, she realized, there was one less soul whose blood stained the decaying sky.

It was perhaps not a very good life, Elena thought to herself, her fingers absently tracing the bullet in her pocket, but it was hers, and she would not waste it.

…finis…

.o.

Disclaimer: The characters and events of FFVII do not belong to me; I enjoy borrowing and twisting them, but that's it. Any unique characters (though Collette's character borrows from a pre-existing one), plot points, and twists, however, are mine.

Sabe's Scribbles: The Christmas gift-fic that ran away with me; this one is for Jess Angel… it was a worthwhile experience, and a welcome return to Turk-based fiction. As an aside, the vignette with Marcus Grube was posted previously (in rougher form) on the Mare Serenitatis forum, under the name "Sabriel," so if you've seen it before, that's why. Cheers, and Starry Nights!