Months pass by as quickly as the days used to. I can only keep track by trying to catch a glimpse of light in the center of the cave and by watching my belly begin to grow. Kilmister doesn't approve of me sleeping on the ground, but I told him I prefer the hard ground to the bruising springs of the mattress. In reality, I figured Rufus wouldn't want to share and stayed at his feet like a loyal dog, gritting and bearing the pain. Once Rufus gets his cast removed from his foot, Kilmister comes to hand him a cut piece of pipe.

"A walking stick so you can stop leaning on the girl. Her leg's not healing well under that pressure. I found this somewhere in the Shinra Building."

"What's the situation in Midgar?" Rufus asks, eyeing the pipe.

"The disease remains widespread. The number of people infected continues to rise, but there're still a lot of people working hard in the new city to the east."

"Who's leading them?"

"Who knows? It seems a number of groups." Kilmister raises an eyebrow. "By the way, Mr. President, do you know anything about the Shinra Company's assassins?" Rufus shakes his head and Kilmister glances at me, thinking. "It seems letters have reached the people who managed to sneak into the Shinra Building and warehouses, threatening them not to do so again if they wish to stay alive. They're all so scared that they've been found out that they decided not to do it again."

I hide my smile, but Rufus lets his show plain as day, a rare sight these days. It gives me hope to know that the Turks are keeping Shinra's hold as long as they're focused on their work. My chest stings sharply, reminding me that I'd give anything to see Reno again instead of slowly dying in this musty old cave. I haven't ever gone this long without seeing him.

Kilmister seems pleased that he found us out. "Mr. President, I'm not talking about right away, but I want some of that machinery that Shinra possesses. Can you let your assassins know?"

"What do you want?" Rufus asks, cautious.

"Dr. Hojo's equipment."

"And you'll be using it for our treatment?"

"Of course. I will also be needing—"

"Jenova."

"Yes. Where is it now?"

Rufus nearly gives me a heart attack when he makes the quickest glance in my direction. Alarmed, I bite down on my tongue and flinch. Shinra, you fucking idiot. He'll suck my goddamn blood dry.

"I don't know," the president replies finally. "I was going to look for it after I leave this place."

"Then we must find a new place. This one isn't suitable for any research."

"Research?" I ask. Kilmister glances down at me as if he hadn't expected me to speak. To be fair, I've said maybe four words to him since we got here.

Rufus speaks up, drawing his attention back. "Mr. Kilmister, are you a doctor or a scientist."

The silence lasts so long that I begin to count. I reach fourteen before Kilmister draws a gun from his jacket and aims it at Rufus. "Your treatment's over."

"Put that down," I demand, getting to my feet. Kilmister turns to me sharply, and in a split second, I'm staring down the barrel of a gun. I couldn't care less. "You're not getting what you want without him."

"No, but what's the point of keeping you?"

"What's the point of killing me?"

"I can't keep up with the demand for food."

"You're running out of supplies and you want to waste a bullet on me?" I raise an eyebrow when he doesn't answer. Scowling, he jerks the gun away and gets in my face. I stumble into the wall, unable to hold myself upright.

"I may not have a bottle labeled 'Jenova,' but I have the perfect vessel right here."

"Get away from me."

"With that attitude, I wouldn't expect my sample to be as pure as it is," he retorts. Rufus frowns, watching Kilmister step away. "And, Mr. President, if I don't get my demands soon, she'll be exactly what I extract my sample from."

Rufus sighs as the man leaves. He turns the pipe over in his hands before standing.

"At least this works."

"Were you even listening to what he said?" I demand, looking up at him in disbelief.

"It might slide though," he continues, pushing the metal until it slips against the stone to prove his point. I roll my eyes, slumping closer to the wall to hold myself upright.

"I'm going to be sucked dry as a desert and all you care about is your old man cane."

Rufus takes a deep breath, for once trying to keep the mood hopeful as I drag it back down. He turns to face me, leaning on his "walking stick" from Kilmister. "It would be best for you not to focus on the worst of our situation."

"How can I?" I snap, hugging my arms to my body as my stomach churns. "Four of them have already died and we're doing nothing but rotting away. I can't climb the fucking mountain of a rock wall with my knee, I'm pregnant, and you're the only person he's visiting regularly." My foot slides and I wince, pressing a hand to the stone to keep myself upright. "There's gotta be something you can get out of him."

"It takes patience," Rufus replies. "Even then, Kilmister is a stubborn man. We'll have to wait it out until he makes a mistake. That'll be our chance."

"I'm not patient." I bite down on my cheek, trying hard not to touch my right leg to the floor. "Gods, what the fuck did we get ourselves into?"

Rufus shakes his head, eyeing my lifted foot. "You're only making your leg worse, you know. It can't heal if you keep walking on it."

"I don't care," I snap. "I can take a little pain until this all blows over."

"Kat, you'll never walk normally again if you keep this up."

"Does it matter?" I roll my eyes when he offers an arm, but I take it, hobbling closer to stand straight. "We're gonna die here anyway."

"We'll get out."

I shake my head, turning my eyes to the floor. My hand unconsciously rests on my stomach, my heart squeezing in my chest. "… It would all be better if I let Hojo kill me on the Siter Ray."

"Is that what you think?" Rufus raises an eyebrow. "I'd be here alone, perhaps defenseless in a number of situations. Consider what just happened."

I shake my head. "You would've sweet-talked your way out, Rufus. You're not helpless."

"No, but neither are you."

I sigh, finally looking up. I'm uncomfortably close, but he doesn't look like he cares. Shaking my head, I rest it against his shoulder, tired of it all. Rufus takes a deep breath, leaning closer to his pipe.

"I'm sure many people here can tell you're expecting. If Kilmister 'sucks you dry as a desert' there could be quite a bit of unrest."

"If they even care." Despite my downhearted mood, I can't help but laugh at the thought of the deathly ill patrons of this maniac rioting for the sake of a pregnant girl that hides in the back caves with the president of Shinra.

"… You're sure you don't want to use the bed?"

I nod, lifting my head with a feverish shiver. "You're surprisingly warm compared to the rest of this grimy hell-hole."

"I'm not a rock wall."

"Sometimes I can't tell the difference."

"I'll accept your compliment."

I roll my eyes and push his loosened hair out of his face, irritated that he hasn't moved it himself. His hair's grown long enough that it should stay back on its own, but it still refuses to keep out of his eyes. "You look pretty normal covered in dirt, y'know."

"And you look rather unappealing covered in bloodstains," he retorts, shifting one arm lower so I can hook an arm over his shoulders. It takes an immense amount of pressure off my leg. I close my eyes, taking a deep, relieved breath.

"Thanks. I like looking like an extra in an apocalypse movie," I reply, shuffling a little closer so I don't have to lean as much. Closest we've been in months. I chose to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. "I didn't realize that dirty white suits were in."

"They have been close to four months now."

"Really?" I cock my head to the side, grinning. "Should I request some magazines from Kilmister? Clearly, it's necessary to keep up with fashion down here."

"Not for slum scum," he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh right. I'm entirely worthless to someone of your stature."

"Nothing."

I'm not sure if I should be surprised that he's the one that closes the gap or that I'm not resisting. It feels wrong and right at the same time. Somewhere in my fucked-up mind, I start to pretend he's Reno, pulling him closer than before. Rufus still forces me to stay off my leg, still the only one here concerned for my safety. When we pull away for air, I use my adrenaline to push up onto my toes and whisper in his ear.

"Never do that again." I push away and use the wall to lean on, heading for the exit. "I'm going to clear my head."

Rufus nods and sits down in the bed as if nothing happened. I shiver, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. Why the hell did I do that? I can't erase my guilt, shaking my head and persisting further into the cave to burn all my extra energy. It was just desperation. We're going to die here anyway. My stomach churns and I rest my hand over its bump, squeezing my eyes shut. But I don't want to.

My head starts spinning, and at first, I write it off as my panic. It only gets worse, forcing me to stop and concentrate on breathing. A man stops walking past, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Kat, are you okay?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly. An overwhelming burn begins to make its way up my good leg, painful enough to knock the air from my lungs and throw me onto my hands and knees. I grit my teeth, crying out.

"Kat!" The man pauses when he sees a familiar black liquid starts to leak from my legs. "Fuck…"

I gasp when the burning shoots upward through my chest, right where Hojo shot me. I choke, clutching my head as everything begins to become blurry. The man hooks his arms under mine and sits me up against the wall. Through the ringing in my head, I hear him call for help, but it's too late for them to catch me conscious. I'm long gone.

"You have it too."

My eyes quickly at the sound of a voice, my heart pounding as I take a long, deep breath to bring me back from the deep recesses of the darkness. It takes me a moment to realize I'm staring at the ceiling of a room that's scattered with rock walls from the cave. Where is this?

"Kat?"

"Huh?" I jump, lifting to see Kilmister scowling at me.

"Did you hear me?"

"I'm sick?" The words take a second to sink in. Oh. "I'm sick."

"Yes." He sighs, crossing his arms. "Unfortunately, that means I can't use your blood in my research. The disease has overtaken your leg quite suddenly."

"Was there no way to know before?"

"The progression generally goes undetected until the first real outbreak, yes."

"So…" I sit up on my elbows, wincing when a needle in my arm shifts. "You can't use me for the Jenova research."

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Kilmister raises an eyebrow. "Don't worry, though. I've found a way to use you still."

"What—"

"Dr. Marx helped me. I hear you've been friends for a long time."

"You could say that…" Fucking Tyler sticking his dirty fucking nose into my business again.

"He suggested a procedure that could be very useful in the long run. And, because he already knows so much about your condition that he refuses to explain, he will be performing it alone."

"Seriously?" I scoff, falling onto my back. Maybe I can talk him out of it. Why be so vague? "Where's Rufus?"

"Writing a note for me. I'm going to retrieve that machinery from the Shinra Building."

"Does he know about this?"

"He knows you're infected and under my care, yes. If you mean the operation, he will soon enough. You can tell him yourself."

I roll my eyes, sick of the ambiguity. "What the hell is Tyler doing?"

"Whatever it takes to find a cure for this disease. Should it fail, I suppose I lose nothing," Kilmister sniffs, lifting his chin. "I'm going to put you back under now, Kat."

When I next wake, the room is completely different, closed off and full of machinery I'd see in Shinra's medical wing. And then there's Marx, leaning back against the edge of a small counter and pulling a pair of gloves onto his hands. When I stir, his eyes lift to mine.

"What're you doing?" I ask, my voice quiet.

Marx shrugs, dismissive, and looks over a table of tools that looks terrifying. "I'm saving lives."

"Saving lives? I need specifics." I try to sit up, but I'm strapped down. "Tyler? What does this have to do with the sickness?"

"Well…" Marx tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat. "We've discovered that the emerging rash is an isolated mass of Jenova manifesting. The Jenova in your DNA is a different story than this sickness." He cocks his head to the side, his eyes bloodshot and his beard having long overgrown. "Lucky we caught yours so early. Hasn't spread past the knee."

"Okay…?" I'm fucking stupid. Please explain.

Marx continues, holding my arm down as he eyes the needle in my arm. "I don't want to hurt you, but this could be used to develop treatments, or at least primative ones. We—I—am going to amputate the infected leg at the knee."

I feel sick to my stomach and my heart picks up speed. Something about hearing those words—that I don't have a choice—makes me panic. Marx reads this easily, resting his hand on the back of mine.

"It'll be alright. We have a prosthetic ready. I know it's not ideal, and it's not your first choice, but we're willing to try anything."

"We or Kilmister?" I demand, angry. He shakes his head, stepping away.

"That's not all." He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. His eyes go from soft to cold. "I wanted to understand your suffering. I thought if I took a small dose, I could study the effects and repercussions from a safe distance. I was wrong." Marx presses his hands to the counter, shaking his head. "Kat, the things I've seen… The voices and the visions and the violence… I'm closer to losing myself every day that passes. I can't remember anything beyond the last few years unless it involves you. Everything is fading."

"Why would you willingly put yourself through that? After everything you've seen…" I press my lips together, angry that he wants to play the victim in the midst of his punishment. "I don't pity you, Tyler. You did this to yourself."

Marx straightens, turning his back to me. "I don't want you to pity me. I want you to understand that your blood is dangerous." He hangs his head, shoulders slumping. "And it breaks my heart to say this because I want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."

"What are you getting at?"

"If the last thing I do is save another life from living in this hell… Even if that means no life at all…" His breath shudders when he exhales. Save another life… "I'm not letting your child suffer as we have."

My stomach churns, my heart stops, and my blood freezes. Marx turns a knob on the tube connected to the needle in my arm and I panic, terrified that I can't control any of this. Where are you?! Nothing. When I really, truly need her the most, Mother's gone.

"Tyler!" I try to fight the restraints, feeling tears well up in my eyes and a knot in my throat threatening to choke me. "Fucking think!"

"I have. I've thought and I've thought and I've thought." Marx grits his teeth, angry. "You think I want this?! I refuse to have another person lead a miserable, worthless life!"

"Your life isn't worthless!" I protest, trying my hardest to breathe. Please… "You're not saving anyone!"

"You can't change my mind." Marx stands, peering down at me with pitiful eyes that only make the tears flow faster. "I'm sorry, Anna. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, especially not you."

"Don't call me that," I choke out, turning away from him. My mind is foggy, my body heavy. It's too late.

"I could have loved you both if you hadn't been abused so," he continues, saddened. "I know I did wrong by you, but I'm wrong my rights, remember? They'll balance out."

"Fuck you."

"Goodnight, Anna."

I'm awake, but my eyes won't open. My stomach is an empty pit of dread, my heart shooting sharp pains through my chest with every beat. I feel hollowed out and carved into someone else's vision. Numb and masked. Numb, but everything still hurts. I want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and stare into the darkness until my body gives out, but I can't move. I'm not restrained and I can feel my limbs, but I can't move. It's too hard to care.

It must be hours that I lay there with my eyes closed, refusing to wake to my new reality. Eventually, I gather my strength and sit up on my elbows, though I'm not sure what the point is. To see Reno again. The thought makes me sick and I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. You care more about romance than your own child. I hold my breath and lift the sheets, shuddering when I'm overcome by nausea. Where the bottom half of my left leg used to be is a shiny skeleton of a replacement. Defeated, I fall onto my back and close my eyes again. There's no fucking point.