Those Three Little Words

Crack

You aren’t really sure what happened between the moment Tseng repeated those three ugly words and the moment you realize the surprised man is sitting on the floor holding his nose, thinking perhaps now is a good time to leave, you hurriedly make your retreat. You are vaguely aware of calling Tseng an asshole and denying the whole thing, because Rude is not dead. You know this because out of the two of you, you are damn sure you’ll be the first to go. Not Rude. Not only is he a better fighter, a better shot and a better Turk, He is a better person. Always has been and always will be. So as you storm out of the office, push past Elena with a look that says, ‘open your damn mouth and you’ll be dead before you hit the ground’ you once again begin to repeat the obvious, that Rude is not dead because quite frankly it’s bullshit.

You are pretty sure you didn’t hit him hard enough to break anything and you are almost itching to go back up the stairs, barge into his pristine office and hit him again. Part of you aches with the need to kick the shit out of something or someone and as of right now the need to do this is switching from a certain man from Wutai to a certain missing partner who is not dead.

You need to get out. You don’t care if the day has just started, they can dock your wages if they want to. As of right now you don’t give a fuck. You know you are running, you just can’t decide where you are running too and if you need to run faster.

Shit. The last person you want to see is the first person you make eye contact with since the three little words that shall not be repeated have been said. He is between you and the door to freedom. You know you don’t want to face him let alone speak with him because if Tseng didn’t joke, Rufus didn’t lie. You could back track, but then that means having to face a teary-eyed Elena and a slightly angered if not understanding Tseng.

There is the option of the window, closed or not you could possibly, maybe make it. Okay so there is no chance in hell you’d survive the jump let alone making it through glass unscathed.

Fuck. You can do this. It’s called walking, you do it every day. Just in case you put your hands in your pocket, because boss or not he says the words and you may or may not have a job afterward. Hitting Tseng is one thing. Hitting the president could be slightly more disastrous.

Rufus is looking at you in way that makes your stomach clench. Keeping your eyes lowered and digging your hands deeper into your pocket you brush past him. Your name is barely out of his mouth before you’ve already told him to fuck off because Rude is not dead and your taking the day off.

You are fine with it really as you make your way to the nearest bar. A few drinks and you’ll go back to your apartment and wait for the asshole to get home. Because that is the rule. You go out on a solo mission and when you get back you check in with the other first.

You don’t debrief, you don’t shower or shit, you find your partner, because unless you are on deaths door you have no excuse for not letting the other see you. You don’t do that and you are in for a serious ass kicking. And you smile at this because the only one who ever broke the rule was you. But damn you had to take a piss. And it was only once because Rude hits like a brick. You rub your jaw in memory and even though you know it isn’t real you swear it aches.

They practically know you by name. It’s an out of the way place, not to crowded and cheap. You like it because it reminds you of a place before Rude found you and brought you above the plates to a world you never thought you’d see. And if it hadn’t been for that fucking meteor you’d be there right now. Still drinking and whoring, just in a blue suit this time and with Rude by your side.

The bartender doesn’t even ask, just hands you the glass and fills the first for you. You know he’s watching you as the liquid sloshes in up to the rim. You know he sees something because he only nods his head and leaves the bottle.
Three days ago he left to take care of something.

You offered to go, but the president needed you to take him to Junon. So instead of pairing off with Rude as usual, you let him walk out that door alone and flew the chopper like a damn idiot. Your ears were ringing for hours after you landed from the lecture Rufus gave you. Something about you being the one to do him in with childish acts of misadventure while piloting something that cost more to fuel than your life was worth. Secretly though you know that Rufus is a closet thrill seeker. Behind the mask of the president is a man itching to rebel. Daddy might be dead and gone, but there will always be this need to show him up.

You are even a little sorry for telling him to fuck off, not sorry you hit Tseng though. Bastard deserved it for saying the stupid shit he did. And as you fill the glass again, you replay the morning in your mind and curse yourself for almost believing those three little words. You almost gave in and doubted Rude. He has always been there for you and always will be. That’s how you know Rude isn’t dead.

You aren’t sure how much you have had to drink, only that it isn’t even noon yet and you are stumbling home because you can’t remember where you parked. You take the stairs even though you trip up them several times before making it to the first floor. You only have three more flights of stairs to go. You know the elevator would have been more sensible but deep down you also know it’s too closed in.

Not many know your fear of tight spaces, how at night you’d wake up in a cold sweat if the door to the room was closed, or if the window in the office wasn’t open, even sometimes in the middle of the winter, your hands would shake. Rude knows this fear. So you take the stairs because it’s easier to stumble then to fall. But this time Rude isn’t there and you haven’t even made it to the second floor yet.

By the time you have reached your floor you’ve tripped too many times to count and you know your knees are bruised. You don’t care though because now you can wait. You just need to get the key to work; Rude usually helps here as well. Either he steady’s your hand by placing his bigger hand over yours or he holds you up while taking the keys from you and opening the door. You focus on the lock and jab the key at it.

You can do this because you have to. After several attempts you think it’s just as easy to wait outside as it is to wait inside. It doesn’t take much to slide down the wall, you’ve already dropped your keys, and you’ll find them later. Better yet, when Rude comes home he’ll get them for you and open the door with them. He’ll let you in and make the coffee and listen as you bitch about the screwed up morning you had. He’ll shake his head when you tell him you hit Tseng, sigh when you tell him ‘Laney cried and cringed when you tell him you told the boss to fuck off.

In the end it won’t matter though because even if they don’t get it, you do.

Rude is not dead.