Alias: Biggs x (Female) Reader

Chapter Two: Clean-up

"Please, sir, you have to help me," you begged, still on your knees. You sincerely doubted you would get much help, since you almost hit his groin.

The man looked down at you, lowering one hand and rubbing the back of his neck with the other. "There's... no need to bow..." he said. You cringed at yourself. You looked pitiful, but sort of silly.

"I--" As you started to get up, a bullet tore past you as the sound of gunshots rang in your ear. You yelped and ducked again. He reached for you, but flinched as you let out another scream. A bullet had found its way into your calf. The man quickly pulled you to your feet. You dragged your baseball bat off the ground with you and the man pulled a pistol out, ushering you to safety.

He looked really tense, and anxious. It made you feel sort of guilty. There was nothing you hated more than dragging others into your problems, but right now you were scared for your life. No matter how hard you tried, keeping calm was impossible. You grit your teeth as hard as you could, trying to cope with the pain.

You saw him lean against the wall and crouch, looking around the corner. He stepped around and fired a few times before shouting over the gunfire, "What's your name!"

You could barely process the question. Your name. "It's--"
You stopped suddenly. Did this man trust ShinRa? Would he trust you if he knew who you were. You decided to think of another one.

"You all right?" he hollered over your thoughts as he took cover behind the brick wall. You came back to your senses.

"It's [F/N]!" You replied on impulse. '[F/N]'? What kind of name was that? Where did it come from? Maybe it was the name of an employee. Or your dog's name. Whatever it was, you didn't care. And neither did he. As you rested, you felt something pushing you forward. You stumbled and looked over your shoulder. It was a citizen, opening their back door.

"What on Earth is going on here?"

It wasn't until then you realized a bunch of lights were being switched on and civilians were coming out to investigate. You felt your throat burning. Your eyes stung. You wanted to cry.
"Are you [Y/N]--?"

You went to shout 'no', but your savior grabbed your wrist and broke into a sprint. "We've gotta go." All you could do at this point was oblige. Even though your leg hurt, you were willing to limp the whole time. For whatever reason, the gross feeling of the blood gushing and trickling down your calf was what concerned you more. But you would deal with anything, as long as you escaped.

Troops kept shouting behind you, ordering you to stop. They kept firing. You knew they'd go for your friend, since he wasn't of any current importance.

"Run in front of me!" you ordered.

"What? Why? You're--"

"Just do it!" While he still had a grip on your wrist, you pulled him directly in front of you. This was your problem. You couldn't let a random passerby die.

"Damn it!" A troop bellowed. Suddenly, his walkie talkie channeled in on his belt. He picked it up and listened, to hear Tseng's voice.

"Leave her," he instructed. "You're drawing too much attention. President's orders."

The officer sighed. "Yes, Sir. We'll return to headquartered immediately."

"Good." Then the device channeled out.

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You ran with the stranger for a while. You came back to your senses, wondering why you had automatically trusted him with your life. You didn't realize the troops withdrew for another fifteen minutes. Your legs finally gave out and you fell on the sidewalk. He stopped and turned around.