Defying Gravity
General Disclaimer: The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)
Author's Note: I was reading some RenoxRufus fanfics the other day that had RenoxVincent as a side pairing, and I thought to myself, 'That's interesting.' At the same time, Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes by the band Fair to Midland came on my iTunes, and the rest is history. I really have no idea where this is going, but that always makes for the best story in my opinion. I hope you enjoy!
General Info: Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.
Chapter One: An Unforeseen Meeting
These walls don't talk,
Even when somebody knocks,
These walls don't stand,
For anyone else but themselves,
These walls don't fall,
Even when gravity's failing us all
- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes
Oftentimes he was called an open book.
Reno took a drag from his cigarette as he stared towards the Nibelheim Mountains, pondering why people found him so easy to read. His partner, Rude, was perhaps the complete opposite of him then, as the man had always been very intimidating. It was Reno's audacious personality and Rude's distant one that made them such a perfect team, he'd always thought, because they tended to work well together when thrown in the face of adversity.
Reno knew people thought he was fearless, cocky, and cold-hearted, and he tended to agree with them about most things, but he knew that wasn't a complete truth. What most people didn't see—what Reno wouldn't let them see—was that deep down inside of him he was terrified. He could never pinpoint exactly what it was he was terrified of, but he knew he was terrified.
It wasn't his job, he told himself. Being a Turk was dangerous in and of itself; despite their attempts to fix past mistakes, Turks were still hated around the Planet. Reno couldn't count the number of times his life had been in the way of an assassination attempt, mostly from grieving family members and friends of the innocents he might have been ordered to kill. They were easily taken care of, and it wasn't something Reno worried about. Once a person started to worry, it would be the death of them.
It wasn't his unfortunate habits, as Rufus liked to call them, referring of course to his penchant for alcohol and tobacco over sunshine and daises. He was going to die anyway, so he figured he might as well make the most out of life before his inevitable end. Besides, if he had been terrified of those things, he would have quit them long ago. Instead, he let a lazy smile cross his lips as he took a long drag; letting his feet direct him to Shinra's abandoned mansion.
He was partly terrified of this place, and the things he heard originated from it. As a Turk he was used to murder and deceit, but he considered himself a sensible man. He had never purposely drawn out assassinations or interrogations. He preferred to finish things as cleanly and quickly as possible, earning himself quite a reputation in the underground circuits—everybody knew that if you had to meet a Turk, Reno was the one to meet. He wouldn't let you feel too much pain if he could help it. Thus, the mansion that now stood tall before him sent a chill down the redhead's spine. He knew Hojo had abandoned labs and Gaia knew what else hidden in the depths of its walls. He knew unimaginable horrors had taken place there.
Looking up at the filthy windows and the aged brick, Reno took a double take when his eyes connected with those of another man's. His green-blue eyes widened to an abnormal size, and he cursed. Red eyes glared down at him.
A perfect example of some of the horrifying things done in this mansion was one Vincent Valentine, a former member of the Turks and member of AVALANCHE, and he just so happened to be standing in an upstairs window. Tseng had assured Reno that Vincent would not be at the mansion, and Reno could only assume he was misinformed. Either that, or Tseng had purposely lied to him, although Reno could see no plausible reason for him to want to do that.
"Fuck," Reno muttered, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. He knew the black-haired man disliked the smell of smokes, and since Reno was on a mission, it was best to stay in Vincent's good books.
That is, he thought it best until he stepped in through the front door, immediately lighting up another one, shaking his head and mumbling curses to himself. He'd need the extra comfort of nicotine—his one true friend besides alcohol and Rude—if he was ever going to venture any further in this freak show.
Half expecting the man to jump out of the shadows and scare the shit out of him, Reno was surprised when Vincent appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand embedded in the pocket of his typical black pants and the other clutching the familiar Cerberus. His traditional red cloak was missing, and he had a simple black t-shirt on. Depressing, Reno sneered inwardly.
He kept his eyes on the dangerous weapon as he waved the hand holding his cigarette. "Hey, man, how ya' doin'?" He said loudly, trying to be as cheerful as possible. He wasn't sure if that was the right approach to take, considering Vincent's silent response, but he continued anyway. "Yeah, listen. I, uh, didn't expect ya to be here and I kind of need ta look around a bit, so if you'll just—"
Vincent's gun arm raised, and Reno bit his lip as he stared down the three barrels of Cerberus, half-wishing he hadn't come. "Leave."
"Can't really do that, man, not yet at least. Can I just—"
"This is my house. Leave."
"Ya live here now, eh? How's that hangin' for ya? You've certainly spruced the place up a lot…" Reno said, trying his best not to glance around at the decaying room they were standing in. "Ya wanna give me the grand tour?"
"No. Leave now."
Reno sighed, rolling his eyes. "Listen, you an' I both know ya ain't gonna shoot me, so can ya at least listen to what I have ta say?"
Vincent stared at him, an unreadable look in his eyes. They stood in silence for several moments, during which Reno nervously sucked on his cigarette, hoping to contract some sort of sudden cancer on the spot just to get him out of the situation. He dropped the cigarette, though, when a deafening bang! echoed in his ears and a bullet came soaring past his head.
He choked on his saliva, instinctively grasping his EMR, but even as he did so he regretted it. He should have known that was a warning shot, but by holding out the EMR, he had practically accepted a fight. "No, wait!" He screamed, tripping over his own feet in an attempt to escape. "Tseng sent me! All I need to do is grab some files from Hojo's lab, man, I swear! Then I'll be gone!" He ducked inside a room, which turned out to be the (surprisingly clean) kitchen, before realising that the firing had stopped.
Footsteps made their way softly down the stairs, and Reno almost cried upon realising death was imminent. Don't mistake—the redhead wasn't afraid of death, but dying in this situation would not have been on the top of his list. He closed his eyes, sliding down the wall as he tried to telepathically send his last wishes to his best friend, Rude. You can have my EMR, buddy, and my CD collection. Send my middle finger to Tseng for putting me in to this situation, okay? If it isn't blown off in a second, I mean.
As Vincent rounded the corner and placed the muzzle of the gun against Reno's forehead, the redhead realised what he was truly terrified of. His knee started shaking and he but his lip to keep from pleading for his life—to keep whatever dignity he had left.
It scared him not because he was going to die, but because he had no control over the situation. With his job, at least he knew what he was getting in to, and the same went for his bad habits. Even with the mansion, he knew that he might be sickened by some of the things he saw inside, and he accepted that.
Vincent was unexpected, and the idea of dying from uncontrollable or surprising circumstances scared the living shit out of Reno.
He opened his mouth, ready to explain the situation one more time, when Vincent's dark, deep voice interrupted him.
"What purpose do you have with Hojo's files?"
His eyes opened and stared up in shock, wondering if he had misheard. "Ya aren't gonna' shoot me?"
"That is still to be decided."
Nodding slowly, Reno breathed in as the gun was lowered back to Vincent's side. "To the best of my knowledge, Rufus wants 'em destroyed."
"Why?"
"How the fuck am I s'pposed ta know? All I know is that I was ordered to retrieve them." As an irritated look crossed Vincent's eyes, Reno elaborated. "It's probably 'cause he don't want nobody ta use 'em for their own diabolical means, ya know?"
An awkward silence passed during which each man attempted to out-stare the other, and finally Reno dropped his gaze to the floor. He heard Vincent move further in to the room, and he nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. "Are you thirsty?"
If he were positive doing so wouldn't have gotten him killed, Reno would have laughed at the sudden change of topic. All the same, he had to wonder what the hell was wrong with the man. "You're seriously offerin' me somethin' to drink?" At Vincent's nod, Reno shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I'll take anything with alcohol in it."
Vincent, who was already in the process of pouring himself a glass of wine, took out another glass. After a minute, he handed it to Reno and sat down at the table, glancing at the redhead with a quirked brow. Reno took the hint and removed himself from the floor, stumbling in to his own chair. They both sat there, sipping their own respective glasses of white wine. Reno stared at Vincent curiously, while the latter steadied his gaze on his wine glass.
"Have you gone insane?" Reno blurted out, unable to take the strangeness of the situation any longer.
Vincent glanced at him and set his glass down. "I hold no hard feelings for the Turks. To do so would be hypocritical. I am simple being… polite." He took a pause. "If you would rather get your files right now, I can lead you there."
Reno was tempted to deny the offer in favour of some more wine (it was delicious, he had to admit—Vincent had good taste), but he knew the mission was supposed to be a quick one. In and out, he thought, nothing more than half-an-hour at most. He was already twenty minutes behind schedule.
He shook his head. "Yeah, that'd probably be best, actually. I know my way there, don't worry." He stood up and Vincent mimicked the action.
"I hold no hard feelings for you, but I do not yet trust you completely." He led the way out of the kitchen. "I will take you there."
Reno resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting rid of the man any time soon and followed him as they made their way down to Hojo's lab. As they passed the room Reno knew Vincent spent many years sleeping in, a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't like this place at all, and he was surprised the brooding man had decided to come back after all was said and done. Had it been Reno, he would have packed up and gotten himself a place at Costa del Sol, or probably even Wutai—they had great booze in Wutai. A slow smirk drifted over his lips as he thought about it, thinking that perhaps he should pay Yuffie a visit some day.
"Take as long as you need," Vincent said, startling Reno out of his thoughts. "I will be around." With that he turned around and left, leaving Reno to roll his eyes. He suspected that the man was too familiar with wearing a cape because the swiftness of the turn suggested so.
With a shake of his head and a defeated sigh, Reno got to work.