The door opens and the smell is intoxicating in a way that Reno knows all too well. Blood left to linger, congealed and dried where it could, coppery and sharp. His chest tightens as they walk in to behold the absolute mess of it all, but Reno finds himself strangely... disappointed is the wrong word, but it's close. It's just that it all seems like so much less without Tseng's body in the middle of it all. It's hard to even tell the shape of him in all the confusion, where the perfect halo around his positively angelic form begins and the smear of Reno collapsing into it, dragging him away to wrap his body in plastic ends. Because it is his job to, Reno notices his own tracking prints and the cast-off blood running from his clothes making their way out toward the door and tsks under his breath at himself. Sloppy work, Reno. He had meant to come back and scrub this place clean, but not right away. Maybe only if Tseng didn't come back. Now he's glad he didn't, but also—disappointed.
Tseng takes hold of him and Reno guides him in further, one hand at his back, not submitting to being held just yet. Not until they're truly standing in the middle of it, their tracks matching Reno's from the day prior, and Sephiroth's oozing trail along beside it. In retrospect, he shouldn't have upended the table like that. It'd be more perfect if he'd left it the way it was when Sephiroth was on it. But he was so... god, he can't remember. In his heart he knew he wasn't going to find anything good here, but in the moment, crashing into the room and flinging that table out of his way, before he saw just how badly Tseng was wounded, he'd thought, maybe—
Foolish, really.
Once they're center with the madness, Reno finds himself feeling strangely emotionless. It's not like him. He wonders if something is wrong. That's when he turns toward Tseng, finally, and says the only thing he can think of, which is, "I'm glad you didn't let me do it the easy way." Because he needed the fuel for the fire that's been lit in him now. It's only been embers, occasionally roaring up with a stoking wind or when it's prodded at, but it wouldn't have been enough. Now his kerosene is here, and together the two of them are going to build that flame into a roaring inferno, consuming everything around them. This he's absolutely certain of, and it's what brings him out of his temporary lack of feeling. His hand hovers, deciding, and rests on Tseng's stomach. He didn't want to go there back on that cliff, but now he has to. It's not a question. He'll go there if he has to force it there. "Lemme see."
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Tseng takes hold of him and Reno guides him in further, one hand at his back, not submitting to being held just yet. Not until they're truly standing in the middle of it, their tracks matching Reno's from the day prior, and Sephiroth's oozing trail along beside it. In retrospect, he shouldn't have upended the table like that. It'd be more perfect if he'd left it the way it was when Sephiroth was on it. But he was so... god, he can't remember. In his heart he knew he wasn't going to find anything good here, but in the moment, crashing into the room and flinging that table out of his way, before he saw just how badly Tseng was wounded, he'd thought, maybe—
Foolish, really.
Once they're center with the madness, Reno finds himself feeling strangely emotionless. It's not like him. He wonders if something is wrong. That's when he turns toward Tseng, finally, and says the only thing he can think of, which is, "I'm glad you didn't let me do it the easy way." Because he needed the fuel for the fire that's been lit in him now. It's only been embers, occasionally roaring up with a stoking wind or when it's prodded at, but it wouldn't have been enough. Now his kerosene is here, and together the two of them are going to build that flame into a roaring inferno, consuming everything around them. This he's absolutely certain of, and it's what brings him out of his temporary lack of feeling. His hand hovers, deciding, and rests on Tseng's stomach. He didn't want to go there back on that cliff, but now he has to. It's not a question. He'll go there if he has to force it there. "Lemme see."