Intervention

Story Description Reno finally succumbs to the dark and destructive nature of his unstable emotions. When his bosses Tseng and Rufus do nothing & his partner and friend Rude stands in the wings and watches mutely, it's up to Elena to step in and save him from himself. (Post Game, Elena/Reno, Het, Yaoi, Drug & Alcohol abuse)

Author's Note - Characters may appear OOC. Tried to keep them as close to cannon as possible, but considering I'm writing this not the people at SquareEnix, you'll have to deal.

Disclaimers I don't own the boys and girls of Final Fantasy 7, SquareEnix does.

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1 - Routine Set to Flame

Because I can't hold on when I'm stretched so thin
I make the right moves but I'm lost within
I put on my daily facade but then
I just end up getting hurt again
By myself myself
-- By Myself by Linkin Park

Alone.

Sitting on the roof of his apartment building, his bare back propped up against the wall of the stairwell housing. Empty alcohol bottles were scattered about. Many were old, but a few of the bottles were newer. Next to him was a partial bottle of whiskey, which he picked up to take a swig from to wash down a few pain killers as he watched the western horizon.

So alone.

The alcohol and the narcotics started working, a sense of detachment washing over him. The sounds of evening traffic, both vehicles and pedestrians alike, faded into the background as he stared unblinking into the west. The sun was still high up enough in the sky so that it could be considered either late afternoon or early evening. Take your pick, it didn't matter to him. Not anymore. He'd become numb to it all, no longer able to feel anything beyond the loneliness and the emptiness. No happiness or warmth. No positive emotions, only the negative ones such as pain and bitterness.

Slowly, dull aquamarine eyes blinked as his head lulled to the side then shifted back and forth as he sought, then found what he was looking for. Shattered glass, from one of the many empty bottles that had been shattered in anger, lay within easy reach. Slender fingers expertly picked out a shard of glass that met his needs of the moment. Turning his head back to the west once more, he brought the shard up so that he could look though the distorted view it provided before letting his hand fall back to his lap. The glass shard sliced though the flesh of his upper thigh as if it was nothing. He felt no pain at the moment, just the warm wetness that rapidly cooled as it trickled downwards to fall to the ground. Bringing his hand up again, he slowly slid the sharp edge of the shard over pale flesh, leaving behind a trail of red in it's wake. Over and over the process was repeated. Always in places that couldn't be seen, though. Places that were hidden from everyone.

Pain. Coldness and pain.

The shrill ringing of his PHS cut though the numb fog that had long since settled in his mind. Blinking he reached out with his right hand, picking up the device, flipping it open and answering it in one smooth motion. "Yeah?"

"One hour, Reno."

Dropping the bloody shard from his left hand, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Eyes squeezed tightly shut he let out a silent sigh as the pain and coldness he hadn't felt earlier made themselves known. Quite viciously, too. "…Sure thing partner."

Several seconds of silence from the other side. "… Reno?"

"Hmm?" He was stumbling his way to his feet, swaying with a combination of drugs, alcohol and blood loss. Bottles kicked to the side, clinking as they hit one anther. Hard.

"… Never mind." The connection went dead.

Reno shook his head, a giggle escaped as he staggered around the stairwell housing to the door. "Oops... I guess I got carried away, heh. Bad Reno, no treats for you." Another giggle as he stumbled down the stairs to his apartment. He was lucky that he had the apartment on the top floor. No one to question the bloody trail leading from the roof to his door. Though it was a complete bitch when he had to climb all those stairs when he came home either tired, drunk or injured. Or a combination of the three.

Once inside, he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing his Mythril armlet along the way snapping it on. It contained both Mastered Heal and Mastered Restore materia. Once inside the bathroom, he turned the shower on as hot as it would go before stripping out of the pair boxers he was wearing. Clouds of steam rose up from the shower by the time he stepped into it. Bracing one hand against the wall, he brought the other up to his face. "Esuna," he whispered, bending the magic and power of the Heal materia to his will. He let out a choked scream of pain as he dropped to his knees. Scalding hot water cascaded over his pale skin turning it red as the blood was washed away. His body was cleansed of the drugs and alcohol in moments.

He could feel again and he wished he was blind and deaf to it all once more. "Cure3!" he cried out. The cuts closed themselves in heartbeats. Unlike the Heal material which cleansed the body, Restore only closed the wounds. It didn't replenish that which was lost. Blood lost would stay gone until the body was able to restore it naturally or until the person received a transfusion.

With his body on autopilot, his mind retreated into the depths of darkness until he felt it was safe to return to reality.

Reno's next coherent thought came with him standing in front of his dresser, checking his back-up weapon before tucking it away in its holster. An open prescription bottle lay on its side, several pills scattered around it. Blinking, he frowned. Had he already taken one? He couldn't remember and somewhere, hidden in the depth of his mind, it scared him. Looking up into the mirror, he tried to look at himself in the face but failed. His aquamarine eyes shifted back and forth, looking anywhere except into themselves. Leaning forward he ran a hand though his messy hair, bracing himself with the other arm as he did.

Picking up the bottle, he swept all but one pill back into it then recapped it. Taking it and a small pack of powder from its container, he headed for the kitchen quickly. He found what he was looking for, an open bottle of the amber liquid that had become part of his survival. After popping the pill into his mouth, he chased it down with a swig from the bottle. The amber liquid burned pleasantly on its way down his throat. Taking a deep breath then letting it out, he dumped the contents of the packet into his mouth and took several swallows to wash the unpleasant taste from his mouth.

Several minutes passed before the effect of the powder took hold and when it did he felt the rush of energy and euphoria. Retracing his steps back into his bedroom, he completed his ritual of getting ready for work. With one last look in the mirror, this time meeting his glittering gaze, he grinned and playfully winked at himself. With his beloved EMR in hand, he left his apartment. A jauntily, yet off-key, whistled tune followed him as he bounded down the stairs and out of the building.

Reno had become oblivious to the destructive effects he continued to place on his body and his health, both mental and physical.