Author's note: Firstly, as much as I'd like to, I do not own any of the Final Fantasy characters in this story; that pleasure belongs to Squaresoft / Square Enix. All work is non-profit (other than personal enjoyment…).

Whilst the story takes place during and after the Advent Chilren storyline, the focus is primarily on things going on between Tseng and Elena than on the AC plot itself. Comments are always welcome and appreciated.

[Contains moderate violence, some rather less moderate language and occasional, not overly explicit sexual references]

"What happened yesterday evening... was a mistake. It was unprofessional of me and it won't happen again."

"Tseng, you—"

"No, Elena. I mean it; I'm not interested, never will be. Now I suggest you concentrate on the retrieval mission in the Northern Crater."

-x-

Tseng blinked, trying to clear his vision. He didn't need his eyes to tell him that he was sitting on something cold and hard, his hands bound behind his back. Or that the intermittent choking sounds coming from somewhere nearby belonged to Elena. In between her coughing and spluttering Tseng could hear what sounded like water; as though someone was thrashing around violently. Water torture, he thought, mentally chastising himself for being so slow. It must have been the blow to the head one of the silver-haired men had dealt him back at the crater. Which begged the question of where they were now. The more he blinked, the more his eyes stung. Blood, he thought. Getting blood in his eyes wasn't something he was completely unfamiliar with.

"Where is Mother?" someone shouted. A male voice, fraught with desperation. They were in the same room; Tseng could tell that much from the acoustics. And, gradually, he was also able to pick out changes in light that suggested someone was pacing back and forth.

"Ugh..." Elena mumbled, coughing some more. Tseng felt concern for her spike in his chest suddenly, remembering that she had been shot. He had gone back for her and that was when the three men had descended upon them both. Reno had got away with the fleshy, repulsive lump that seemed to be part of Jenova's head. And then he remembered the row he had had with Elena only that morning; the kiss they had shared the night before.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed vaguely, followed by a dull yelp. And then again, this time more muffled, like a fist or a foot being driven into someone's gut. They were beating her. As Tseng's vision cleared somewhat, the sound of thrashing water resumed.

After a few more minutes, Tseng could see well enough to make out each of the three Sephiroth look-alikes, and the sight of Elena, her hands bound behind her back with black industrial tape as the bulkiest of the three held her head down into a trough filled with water. He was sitting close enough to see irregular chunks of ice floating in the dark depths. When the figure holding Elena's head and shoulders under the water brought her into an upright kneeling position once more, the shortest of the three grabbed her chin.

"Tell us, or he'll drown you next time," he threatened, his voice calm and controlled yet somehow infinitely menacing. Elena didn't reply and averted her eyes. As the bulky one holding her drew her back by the neck, ready to plunge her into the trough again, Tseng couldn't remain silent any longer.

"She's a junior Turk; she doesn't know anything," he interrupted, managing to keep his voice level and devoid of any emotion.

"But you, on the other hand, should know," the short one replied, still looking at Elena. "You are the most senior Turk, after all," he added, pivoting elegantly on his heel to face Tseng. "So here's how it's going to be: Loz here will continue to hurt her until you start talking."

"What makes you think I care what you do to her?" Tseng threw back, his gaze as cold as the northern air in the room, which, at a guess, looked to be some sort of warehouse. The ceiling was high and afternoon sunlight filtered through large, rectangular and mildew-covered windows. The faded Shinra logo stamped on the panel of the door some distance away made Tseng wonder if the three had coveted an old company observation base, located somewhere between the City of the Ancients and the Northern Crater. Hojo and his bloody budget-violating requests, Tseng thought bitterly. This godforsaken place wouldn't even have been built if he hadn't kicked up such fuss about potential volcanic activity in the Crater.

"Why would you go back to help her if you didn't care? A man as ruthless as you're pretending to be would have put his own safety first."

Tseng locked his jaw, which sent waves of pain across the left side of his face. "Competent Turks are hard to come by," he said quietly. "But not completely irreplaceable," he added, his eyes meeting Elena's. She wasn't facing him properly, with Loz still gripping her around the back of her neck. Her hazel eyes were tired and glassy and she was completely soaked from her shoulders up. A mixture of blood and water trickled down her pale skin. His eyes flicked to her torso, almost afraid of what he might see. They had stripped her of her blazer, making it easier to see the bullet wound in the upper right side of her chest, not far below her collarbone. At least it didn't appear to be bleeding too badly. As he looked away once more, struggling to swallow the suffocating feeling of guilt and helplessness that swept over him, he caught sight of her blazer lying discarded on the floor a few metres away.

"Loz."

"Yes, Kadaj?"

"Continue."

Loz grinned maniacally as he forced Elena's head into the trough once more. For a while, she remained relatively still but the longer he held her under the more she began to struggle. After at least a good minute had passed, Loz wrenched her upwards. Elena coughed and gasped for air, only for Loz to thrust her head into the water again as quickly as he had pulled her out.

Tseng wondered how long Elena would last before she either started talking or passed out. In the very same moment he felt annoyed that such thoughts crossed his mind; this was the woman who, only a few hours previously, had taken a bullet for him, probably saving his life; the woman who had proved more than once that she was as capable a Turk as any other; the woman he had been increasingly yearning for since the Temple of the Ancients.

Turks received training in how to deal with various torture methods as part of their standard initiation. The reality, however, was quite different. In training, the idea that your instructor might kill you was unlikely no matter how much they tried to convince you otherwise at the time. When it was for real, the possibility of having to endure a slow and painful death became more of a certainty. Tseng had known high-ranking members of SOLDIER to falter when captured and tortured.

"You could end all of this, you know," a soft, smooth voice uttered into his ear. Kadaj and Loz were still busy trying to drown an answer out of Elena, leaving Tseng to assume that it was the tallest and most elegant of the three who had spoken. He was standing behind Tseng, bending over slightly so that his mouth was just about level with Tseng's ear. "Kadaj won't give up – and he'll make you watch. And if he can't get Loz to make her talk, he'll turn her over to me. All you have to do is tell us where Mother is... And we know you know."

Tseng said nothing. Silence was usually the best policy, for it didn't allow the torturer to build up any sort of conversation from which he might be able to infer information.

"Suit yourself."

Elena felt herself fading. Whether it was the cold or the lack of oxygen, or a combination of both, she wasn't sure. What makes you think I care what you do to her... Junior Turk... Not completely irreplaceable... Tseng's words echoed around her mind as Loz held her under for what might have been the tenth time. She had lost count. And somewhere amongst it all, the question of whether she was really prepared to die for Shinra kept on presenting itself over and over.

Elena had always wanted to make something of herself. At one stage, that had simply meant succeeding in her Shinra career, regardless of the rift it had caused between herself and her parents. Her sister had been a Turk, years ago. She was also one of the only ones to ever have quit the occupation, deciding that it wasn't the life she wanted in the long run, and that ultimately she did not care enough about the company to be able to fulfil the duties of a Turk. Do I care enough to do this? Or maybe it isn't even a about being a so-called 'company man'... It's about having nothing else.

Loz yanked her head up and out of the trough, this time letting go of her completely so that she keeled over and lay in a wet heap on the floor. Elena coughed, wincing as her sore lungs protested. She caught sight of Tseng sitting tied to a metal chair only a few metres away. Blood stained the left side of his face and there were spatters all over the front of his shirt, visible through the open front of his uniform blazer. Despite how much he had hurt her, she felt concerned for him; she couldn't turn her feelings on and off like a tap, and she consoled herself that he must have cared at least a little to have come back for her after making it to the helicopter with the container. He could just as easily have left her. It crossed her mind that the trio could do worse to him, since he was the head of the Turks and knew a rather unfortunate amount of Shinra's secrets. But nothing seemed certain with these three.

"One more chance, Elena," Kadaj said, almost sweetly. He crouched down beside her and cocked his head to one side, his immortal green eyes devouring her body with an almost childish delight. "And don't bet on him coming to your rescue," he added, jerking his head briefly in Tseng's direction. Elena turned her face away from him, reasoning that it would be more sensible to say nothing rather than anything that wasn't what Kadaj wanted to hear. "Yazoo, it's your turn. I'll leave you boys to have fun whilst I pay the President a visit. After all, I imagine that's where Mother is."

Kadaj patted Elena's cheek with a gloved hand, as if to make a mockery of the earlier punches he had thrown, before rising to his feet. He turned as he reached the door. "I know I can trust you two to do whatever it takes to get them talking." Loz chuckled deeply as the door to the warehouse-like room swung closed after his brother.

Goddamnit, Elena chided herself vehemently. Of course I can do this. I'm a Turk.

"Time to try something else, I think," Yazoo mused, considering Elena. "Grab her ankles." Loz seemed a little puzzled by the command but, nevertheless, he gripped Elena's ankles and used them to lift her off the floor until only her head and shoulders were still in contact with the concrete. She stifled a groan as the bullet wound in her chest throbbed under the pressure.

"I trust that as a Turk, you know what water boarding is," Yazoo raised an inquiring eyebrow, picking up the bucket that was beside the trough. "It simulates drowning," he continued casually, plunging the bucket into the trough to fill it. "And if you're unlucky, there is no simulation about it."