Ahh… my very first Renzoo. There's a lot more to Reno's story… like why he tattooed his scars, how he got in with the Turks, and his strange love for the smell of cherries (Although your don't find a mention of cherries in this story…) So who knows, maybe there'll be a sequel. Enjoy, folks ^^

I'm a pretty friggen horrible person D8 Forgot to mention that the Lovely Ziggy Pasta beta'd this for me. Thanks, Zigs, ilu.

Very late Edit: There IS a Sequel to this now. Well, sorta. You can find it on my Deviant Art. I'm UshiUshi. :'O The story's called Cherries.

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"Reno, STOP!"

His leg was extended high, as if he were a ballerina. Of course, what had just happened had been far more dramatic than a Grand Battement. Yazoo's chest heaved slightly, panting from the unexpected spar.

Reno had come home drunk. He hadn't come home this inebriated in months, not since Yazoo had made his views on the liquid drug clear. Yazoo allowed for Reno to come home tipsy on occasion, but not like this. Cold green eyes met blood shot ones in a silent plea. The remnant was at Reno's mercy, after he had tossed up his leg in a rather fancy block. He was completely open. Reno could grab his leg and flip it.

The redhead did just that. The pale body spiraled in air, and with a sickening crack, Yazoo's face connected with the wood floor, his slim body limply following. Reno was always like this when he had too much to drink, Yazoo knew that well. Abusive and rash, locked away in his own world of hurt. Drunk Reno was far too difficult to deal with. He left himself open completely, but ate himself up before Yazoo could get a foot in the nonexistent door of Reno's closed emotions.

The remnant stayed where he was, not afraid to move, but… wary to. His face was prickling with extreme pain, but he was not apprehensive to fight. Reno did not scare him; Yazoo could over power him easily. But… he didn't want to hurt him. A fight would do no good. So Yazoo stayed where he was, palms braced beside himself against the floor, his breath still uneven and ragged.

Yazoo could feel the over confident steps of Reno, and then saw his shoes through silver bangs as he walked a circle around him. The foot steps halted a moment, and the feet disappeared from view. He knew what to expect. What does one do when another is down? The silver haired man let out a loud gasp of pain and curled slightly, grasping his rib cage.

Kick them, of course.

"R-Reno. Please, stop." Yazoo coughed, staring up at the drunken Turk. His eyes were blinking rapidly, trying to rid himself of the tears of pain that were forming in his cat-like eyes. Yazoo would never let himself cry at this. Reno was drunk. He didn't have full control.

Something seemed to break in the bloodshot eyes, and Reno cursed loudly as he fell to Yazoo's side. "Oh gods. Oh gods. Yazoo. Yazoo… babe.. I'm so sorry…" Reno muttered, his eyes blank, surprised at what his own hands had just done. Yazoo did not wince as Reno's hands fell on him once more, this time to help the young man stand.

Of course, having a drunk help an injured person stand is like having a blind man drive. Yazoo barely had time to get on his feet properly, before Reno himself needed help standing up.

Somehow, they made it over to the couch, both doing their best to help each other. Yazoo with his wince and limp, and Reno with his drunken stumble. Yazoo settled himself gracefully on the couch, his elegant manner still retained, though he was sure a rib had been bruised. Reno, on the other hand, flopped down, and after taking one look at the disgusting welt forming on Yazoo's face, he broke down crying.

"I'm just like him… fuck… I'm him…" Reno sobbed into his hands, pure loathing in his voice. "I swore to her. I'm so sorry Ma… I'm sorry…"

Yazoo's concern for himself faded away, and the hand that had just been brushing along the welt on his face moved, draping over Reno's shoulder softly. Their relationship had not been based on gentle touches like this. It was unfortunate to say, but Yazoo really did know next to nothing about the man beside him, and vice versa. Reno was a Turk; he really had no past to speak about. And Yazoo… well… Yazoo was barely human.

"Who, Reno?" Yazoo asked softly, bringing his throbbing face lower to meet Reno's, as if he were about to tell him a secret. Reno sobbed harder, his back shaking. Yazoo could do nothing but rub the man's back.

"…My old man." The Turk spat out eventually, the fire burning in his eyes once more. He raised his head, his hands clawing absentmindedly at his cheek bones, where the tattooed scars rested. Yazoo had never asked about how he had acquired the scars, or why Reno had decided to tattoo over them; it was a mystery. Yazoo brought his arm over, and pulled Reno's fingers away from his scars, brushing away the tears as he did so. "Fuckin' drunk son of a bitch!"

Yazoo closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. Family. That was another topic that never surfaced between the two, most likely for the better.

"Are you happy, Pa?! Lookit what a great son I've turned into, eh?" Reno yelled coarsely at an invisible person. "Following in your fucking footsteps, I am!" Reno's hands flew to his cheeks again and he clawed at the scars, as if he could pull them off and toss them away.

"Reno, that is enough." Yazoo grabbed the bony wrists and pulled them from Reno's face, where a few trickles of blood were now oozing from. He squeezed the hands with his own, concern filling his face.

"Wanna know how I got these fuckers?" Reno whispered darkly, amusement laced in his voice. He tugged a hand back from Yazoo and hastily wiped away the drips of blood, staining his skin. The Turk sniffed back the mucus building in his nose. He was shaking horribly.

Yazoo was normally the one being held by Reno, usually after a long night in the bedroom. But now it was Yazoo who was tightening his grip around the man, something that didn't happen often in their relationship.

"My Pop was a drinker." The redhead started, blinking his sea colored eyes rapidly. "Never even fuckin' bothered to get off his ass and work. Ma was the one bringin' home the cash. She worked two jobs, Yaz. Never once complained or said a shit thing about my dad. She was always fuckin' smilin'." Reno's hand fell to his knees, and he fisted the material tightly, his knuckles flashing white. "I was a gullible little bastard."

Yazoo reached up and brushed a bit more of blood and tears from Reno's face. He couldn't do much now. Reno just needed someone to listen, Yazoo understood that perfectly. It was rare to find the redhead in such an emotionally open state. The one bonus of the booze, Yazoo supposed. Maybe, just maybe, he had gotten lucky, and somehow his foot had landed in the door.

"He'd beat the shit outta her all the time…" Reno started again, his eyes unfocused, lost in some far away past. "And she'd just take it. Never tried to fight him off or nothing." He hiccuped, bringing a hand to his mouth. "She'd just keep apologizing' over and over again to him.

After a bit, Ma got sick. Had to give up one of her jobs. Pop didn't like that of course, that meant less booze for him." Knuckles still digging into his thigh, Reno's leg started to bounce in a spastic rhythm. Yazoo let his hand rest on the white knuckles, silently pleading for the man to calm down. If anything, the jumpy movements of the leg got worse. "So he'd beat her more. Peachy guy Pa was. Fuckin' peachy. Mama would just keep sayin' sorry.." Reno's voice cracked and he lowered his head. "An' you know what I did?"

Yazoo shook his head.

"I just let it fuckin' happen. I didn't once try to stop him." He sniffed again, inhaling the mucus and swallowing it. "I was so afraid.. and… and…"

"And what?" Yazoo's head came closer, his hair mixing with the red.

"I still fuckin' loved that bastard." Reno spat, his hand jerking upwards to claw at his scars again, disgusted that they still remained on his face. "I just thought… maybe he'd stop if I tried my best, or if I hugged him and talked more…" Yazoo's eyes hid his surprise well. "But nothing fucking' worked. And Ma just wouldn't get better… one day…" Reno sobbed again and tugged at his hair, trying to bury his face into his lap. "She just.. never woke up."

Yazoo repressed the gasp. It was a lot to hear at once. He had never really expected that much from Reno. Somewhere inside the remnant, he had just concluded that, although Reno was a Turk, he must have had a good family waiting for him somewhere. "…And, your scars, Reno?" Yazoo found himself asking, the curiosity making itself known.

Reno found himself laughing. A pitiful, dark laugh. "It was Father's Day." He said, his hands finally losing their grip on the jeans. "I.. went to the market and bought a packet of those shitty crayons. You know, the ones that're only like, a gil?" Reno watched as Yazoo nodded, but wasn't aware that Yazoo really didn't know what he was talking about. His childhood had been spent inside a lab.

"I took 'em home and made Pa a card. I was so fuckin' proud of myself." Reno's eyes briefly met Yazoo's before falling back to his shaking lap. "I remember just runnin' over to him, and tryin' to get his attention… 'Pa, Pa, lookit me Pa! Lookit what I made for you! Pa, C'mon on Pa, look!'" Reno mocked his younger self, his head jerking in a would-be comical way. "I was such an idiot… my old man turned at me and snapped. Beat me for all I was fuckin' worth, yo. That was the first day I fought back."

Yazoo bit his lip, ignoring the fury that was bubbling inside of him. As a child, he had longed for parents. Loving parents, ones that never spoke to him and made him do horrible things to those around him. Not ones that stabbed needles into his arms daily, saying that it was for a better purpose. Not ones that made his... brothers… cry. Had Reno longed for the same?

"As you can guess.. Pa didn't like it when he found my fist against his face." Reno's hands were against his face. "And…and… he decided to grab a knife." The redhead trailed off, allowing Yazoo to fill in the rest. "I ran so fuckin' far that day. I didn't stop, Yaz. Eventually I just collapsed, yo…"

Yazoo wanted to know more. How had Reno gotten from that point to the Turks? Was his father still alive? So many questions… but Yazoo knew that it was definitely not the time. So his hand that was currently resting on Reno's knee lifted up to meet it's brother, completing the hug. The physical abuse Reno had inflicted minutes ago was nothing. Both men had gone through far more abuse than that, mentally, and physically. The remnant now understood that. The abuse was behind them, he would make sure.

"I promised I'd never hurt no one like that again, yo. Never become him…" Reno sobbed, his hands reaching up and returning the hug. "But… gods, I'm so sorry Yaz. I'm doing it. I've already started. I don't want to Yaz… But I'm chasing you away..."

"You are not doing anything, Reno." Yazoo said softly. "I have not gone anywhere, have I?" Unsure of what to do next, Yazoo bent his head and kissed the red spikes. "Besides, you weak little Turk, I barely felt a thing."

Reno laughed at this. Not the pitiful scoff that had come from him before, but a relatively good-natured laugh. "Oh really?"

"Of course. Now, let's clean you up, I do not need to be looking at dried blood tonight," Yazoo nodded, once more standing, biting back the gasp of pain that threatened to escape himself. He would be fine, of course. Reno followed shakily along, allowing himself to be guided by the remnant. Yazoo flicked on the bathroom light, thinking to himself. Perhaps, if one could cause such deep scars, whether visible or not… there had to be someone who could heal them.

~x~Fin~x~