Don't Play with Fire (Turks FF7)

30) Mutten

I have to admit, I never thought I'd see Rufus Shinra in wheelchair, foot casted with his neck, chest, and waist heavily bandaged, while he looked wistfully out a window. But here we are, the young president looking outside of the two story house like a lonely puppy. What to talk about..? I can't sit here in silence forever. Actually, there's a ton to talk about considering our lives right now.

"So, uh, how do you think they're doing?" I ask, feeling a little awkward. Reno put my uniform in the wash last night, so I'm no longer in that T-shirt and a pair of Reno's uniform pants.

"They as in your coworkers?"

"Yeah."

"I think they're fine," Rufus shakes his head.

"Well that's good, I guess," I respond quietly. "So Tyler told you?"

"Yes. I honestly wasn't surprised, especially considering my luck lately. If there even is such a thing as luck."

"Oh. Right."

"Is something wrong?" He raises an eyebrow. "You're acting strange."

"Everything's fine," I shake my head. "I'm just feeling weird. Like something bad is about to happen."

And I was right. Maybe ten minutes later, somebody rings the doorbell. Then another ring. And another. We exchange a quick look before looking out the window. A group of men is outside, two of them now walking around the other side of the house and trying to open the window. Then they smash it with the butts of their guns.

"Great, an angry mob," I huff, picking up my crutches and pushing a chair under the door knob of the room we're in. I can hear Rufus grabbing a nearby pistol, imagining him taking the safety lock off and hiding it in his sleeve. Yup, that's a Rufus thing to do. "Do you happen to know where my EMR is?"

"Not a clue."

"Dang it," I mutter, listening to glass shatter and the sound of the door being kicked open. "How did they find us so fast?"

"They probably saw Tseng and the others leave this morning."

Someone flings open one of the four doors in this hallway. Three bedrooms and a bathroom. They'll get here in no time. Annoyed with myself for not being able to prevent this, I set my crutches aside and sit down in the seat next the Rufus. Hey look, we have matching black eyes. Great, now I'm turning into a crazy lady. The door comes down quite easily despite my effort, three dirty, tired looking men weilding huntung rifles stepping into the room. The one in the front sneers.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself into quite a mess, Mr. President," the unshaven man says, aiming his rifle at Rufus. My hand barely has to twitch before the other two in the room are aimed at me.

"Indeed. But now's the time I fear most. There is nothing ore frightening than a foolish mob," Rufus replies calmly, staying cool and collected as usual. If looks could kill, Rufie would be dead by now. And why are this guy's eyes so bloodshot?

"We might be foolish but at least we know who should be taking responsibilityfor everything that's happened."

"Oh come on! You know...." I start. A look from Rufus shuts me up.

"Then let me ask you this," he continues. "What will you do after you leave this house? Have you thought about your futures?"

"What do you mean?" It's not that hard to figure out, Dumbo.

"There are two kinds of people in this world. People who give orders and people that take them. It is a question of one's abilities, not a trick question. Often when an incident occurs, it is the ones who give orders that are made to take responsibility. As a result, those who remain lose their direction and panic arises. Then everything comes to a halt."