So, I've had this idea a couple of times, but the actual story line never seemed to take. Until I finally got to see Advent Children: Complete, and I got back on my Final Fantasy kick. Anyway, this monster was born, and I've decided to share it with you. I hope you like it. I won't reveal anything right off in the first chapter, and the plot twisty stuff should come in the second or third. I'm not going to put in any OCs (except for the little background people), and I'm not planning on changing up relations (except for one) or relationships.

If you see something wrong, please make note of it and, if it hasn't been explained or fixed by the end of the chapter, please let me know.

Now, without further ado...


"Today marks the seven year anniversary of the tragic death of President Shinra's heir and elder son. No new information has been released about the fatal accident since the company revealed two years ago that they had evidence which pointed to the terrorist group AVALANCHE. The group is known for its…"

The TV continued to ramble on in the background as the lanky red-head who owned it paused in the act of brushing his teeth long enough to poke experimentally at the coffee pot gurgling sluggishly on the counter. His action was rewarded with an angry glurk noise and a heart-stopping moment of silence before the machine stuttered back to life. Muttering a mixture of swearing and thanks, the teenager turned to shuffle toward the sink, pausing when he caught sight of the TV. The reporter (a pretty brunette named Aurora something Wutaian-sounding) had been replaced with a picture of a kid – ten years old with a thin face and carefully manicured and primped strawberry-blond hair, he carried a look of total boredom about his blue eyes. It was the same picture they showed every year on the same day, dredging up ancient history so they could all pretend to have a good cry about the death of a kid they'd never met.

"Poor little Shinra…" The teenager mocked in a high voice through his mouthful of toothpaste as he dipped toward the sink. "He was such an icon and a symbol for the people." He spat into the sink with more vehemence than was entirely necessary, and scrubbed his mouth before grumbling in his normal voice, "What a load of crap, yo."

A sudden beeping made him glance at his watch, and then groan and spring into movement. He was going to be late – again – if he didn't get out of the house now. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed up what few effects he needed and crammed them into his bag while simultaneously trying to hop into his shoes, turn off the TV, and pour himself a cup of coffee. His months of practice made his attempt fairly successful, and he managed to sling the backpack over his shoulder and cram his glasses onto his head as he jogged toward the back of the apartment. There were no sounds of movement coming through his roommate's door, and he rapped hard.

"I'm headed to work, yo." There was no response, and Reno waited only a minute before pushing open the door and peeking around it. The lump in the bed showed no signs of life, and Reno sighed and groped for something (he thought his hand landed on a book) to throw at the leg end of the lump. This time he got a muffled grunt and some movement. "Get up, Kid, I'm not fieldin' another call from your school."

The blanket blob moved again, bunching, and then elongating as a bit of blond hair poked out of the end. Satisfied, Reno pulled the door shut, glanced at his watched, and ran for the door. Thanks to his bum of a roommate, he was going to be late.

It took ten minutes to get to work by bike, but Reno didn't really mind. He sort of liked Junon now that he'd gotten used to it, and there were even a few people – kids mostly – who called out to him when he whizzed past. In fact, the only things he could really complain about were the smell – the stink that generally went with a big city – and Shin-Ra's presence. It was mostly Shin-Ra, to be honest…he was used to being in places that smelled like big cities, and he knew he wouldn't even notice it if there wasn't something else keeping him negative. It didn't help that the electric company had hung a big banner on the wall just behind and above the little delivery store run by the small but scrappy Alice Wesson.

He rode his bike through the front door that had been propped open, and maneuvered through several stacks of boxes, two computers, and around a very disapproving Alice. The white-blonde woman propped a hand on her hip so she could frown at him while also holding out the package in her hand. "You're late, Bike Monkey."

Reno only chuckled and snapped down the kickstand with a shrug, "I'm a busy man, yo. What can I say?"

"You can admit you slept in too late again. And you can say that you love me more than any boss you've ever had since I'm not going to fire you."

Reno swung off his bike and grabbed the woman before she could stop him, enveloping her slight frame in a hug despite the shriek of laughter and solid punch she managed to land in his rib. "You're the greatest boss any slum rat could ask for, and your kindness far exceeds your tiny self!"

That made Alice squawk indignantly, and she squirmed her way out of his grip so she could fix him with an appropriate glare. When it had no visible effect on Reno, she threw the package at him and spun on her heel, muttering under her breath just loud enough that Reno could hear the amusement in the words.

"So, where's this package goin'?" Reno peered at the forearm-length box in his hands, already trying to plot out his path. Alice didn't answer immediately, and he glanced up to see her hidden up to her waist behind a pile of boxes. As soon as he moved to help her, she resurfaced with two more boxes and a small stack of letters in her hand.

"That one's going to Old Junon, and these all have the addresses on them." Alice offered the small mountain to him, smiling when he groaned dramatically and accepted it. "Don't take too long, either; we still have a lot of other deliveries."

&-a-b-c-&

It took longer than he expected to do the deliveries, and so it was some time after noon that he finally rolled back into the tiny shop. Alice was bent over one of the computers, and barely glanced up from her typing when he braked beside her and made a show of draping exhaustedly across the handlebars. "School called about an hour ago. Your brother got suspended for fighting again. I went and got him for you, and he's in the bathroom now." Reno straightened with a curse, but Alice wasn't finished yet, "And some men showed up about fifteen minutes ago to see you; they're in the back office."

He glanced quickly between the door to the office – closet, really, but Alice liked to pretend – and the one to the bathroom, weighing his options. On the one hand, he didn't really want to have to talk to his roommate (his "brother") right now… On the other hand, there were only a handful of people he could think of who would follow him to work just to have a talk…and most of them were not the sort of men he wanted to run into ever again.

&-a-b-c-&

The office door swung in, so Reno had the advantage over the three people standing in the too-small room. Two men – both dark-haired and looking thoroughly irritated – and one pretty, though young woman turned to face the door as soon as it started moving. They were, to a man, dressed in navy-blue uniforms and giving off the telltale air of Turks – the one that made Reno's stomach instinctively clench in panic.

He reacted without thinking and before the man close enough to grab him could do so, and twisted to dive through the tiny window to his left. It was mostly luck that kept him from breaking his face on the wall, or the windowsill, but he hit the ground outside safely, rolled through the glass to his feet, and shot toward the front of the shop. He heard Alice call his name, but the thump of someone following him through the window was a little more immediate, and he didn't bother glancing back.

The street opened suddenly and he twisted to the right, refusing to break pace at the sound of someone else joining the pursuit. He knew Junon better than these Turks, and he was sure that gave him the advantage. He hoped it gave him the advantage.

"Stop!" The yell was a deep voice, and Reno was fairly certain the man who owned it knew it wouldn't have any effect. He rounded the corner, ran a hundred yards along the road that marked the edge of the city above the water, and then ducked into another alley. This one had a store whose stairs opened to a balcony on the third floor. From that balcony, Reno could see the alley below him (and the only Turk who'd remained outside), and the open window of the apartment across the street. It wasn't big enough to jump through, but he was pretty sure he could get a hold of the windowsill and pull himself through. The bang of a door behind him made up his mind, and he clambered onto the balcony's railing, prayed the Turk wouldn't see him, and jumped.

The Turk fired twice while he was in the air, and he was sure there was some divine force watching out for him that kept the bullets from connecting anything fatal (though one did hit the worse place in this situation). He hit the wall and jarred the new bullet wound in his leg, making him yell in surprised pain, and making it much harder to scramble inside. He managed it, after some work, and though he'd have like to lie there and bleed for a moment, he scrambled to his feet and limped frantically for the front door.

The hall outside was empty, but Reno knew that wouldn't last long and he limped hurriedly for the elevator at the end of the hall. It dinged while he still several feet away, and that sixth sense that cropped up from time to time told him it wasn't one of the people living in these apartments. It just couldn't be that easy. He hobbled to the closest door and dug a bobby pin out of his hair – it served no purpose other than this, and was a habit he'd never kicked – to begin picking the lock.

"Sir!" The lock clicked open at the same moment the woman yelled, and Reno threw the door, and then slammed it shut behind him. Ten seconds to find somewhere to hide or get out. He glanced around (his eyes skipping over the frightened-looking woman who was frantically offering him all her money if he just left her alone), and finally picked what was probably the bedroom. It was, and there was even a fire escape outside – he did have someone looking out for him. He snatched the woman's pillowcase off the bed and charged for the window, staunching blood to cover his tracks as he scrambled out the window and started down the stairs.

Reno jumped as soon as he was reasonably sure he wouldn't break something when he landed, and was moving as soon as he had hit. He limped as quickly as possible toward the busy street out front, ducking to the side as soon as he'd made it and bending down to cinch the pillowcase around his leg just below the knee. As soon as it was in place, he lifted a cap from the stall next to him and began to stroll as casually as casually as possible back toward Alice's shop. He knew there would probably be someone watching the shop – grunts at the very least – but he couldn't just let Shin-Ra have the kid, either.

&-a-b-c-&

There was a Turk still in the office – a short little blonde with a pair of nunchaku draped around her shoulders. She was sitting on one of the desks, swinging her legs while she talked (apparently amiably) with Alice. There was an upsetting lack of a second blond head, and Reno crept carefully to the broken office window so he could sneak a peek in that room.

"Re-!" The kid was in that room, and apparently didn't have the sense to keep his giant mouth shut. Reno swore and ducked away again, searching for somewhere he could hide before the Turk realized what the yell had been.

Too late.

"Boss!" The Turk was already at the entrance of the alleyway, the nunchaku in hand and her wrist near her mouth. He couldn't have the other Turks coming back just yet – that would make the whole daring escape thing a little too difficult – so Reno grabbed the lid from a trashcan to his right and threw it like a Frisbee. He hadn't really expected it to hit, and so he wasn't really disappointed when the girl in the suit dropped, and then launched at him. Another trashcan lid was in his hand and swung between him and the impending piece of wood before he'd decided exactly what he was going to do. He couldn't very well hit a girl… Unless he had to.

The spot-inducing pain of the weapon clipping his head made up his mind. Still, he'd rather not break any arms he didn't have to. He let the girl get close again, and as soon as she'd shifted to swing her weapon, he ducked and jabbed out a fist. He was fast – that was what had made him valuable in some of his…less-mentionable jobs – and he landed a knuckle on her chest, just below where the ribs connected. Something wasn't right.

"You're not a woman!" He hadn't meant for the words to actually come out of his mouth, and he supposed (when he thought back later) he sort of deserved the nunchaku to the knee that he got. The hit landed on his already injured shin and he collapsed with a weird noise, forcing through the pain to tackle the little man's legs. He managed to knock the smaller man down, but something caught his shoulder and hauled Reno upright before he could do anything else. He squirmed to get away – or at least see who had him – but his captor was too quick and light exploded across his vision just before he dropped into unconsciousness.


I'm too lazy to figure out the exact timeline of when the Turks from Before Crisis became Turks, so I'm going to do my best to get their personalities right, and then do whatever I want with their timelines.