"What's so funny?"

The words are painful to bite out, especially after the beating he's just received, but the laughter emanating from deep within Mütten's chest can't be ignored. Even if the old man finds beating Rufus Shinra senselessly funny, it can't be that funny.

Rufus shifts slightly, still chained the wall with the manacles chafing his wrists raw. The ground is so hard underneath him, excruciating against his broken bones. "What are you laughing at? Do I need to see a mirror to understand the joke?"

"It's your sister," Mütten replies bitterly, gripping a fistful of Rufus's hair and tugging his head this way and that for no reason at all.

His heart drops all the way into his stomach at the sound of those words. His sister? Charlie? Had something happened to her? Is she being subjected to the same fate . . . or worse?

"Catch your interest there, did I, boy? Yeah . . . heard you and that girl were close."

Rufus hadn't meant to let the anxiety show on his face, but thinking of Charlie chained up and at the mercy of men like Mütten makes him physically ill. "Is she all right? What did you do to my sister?" he asks quietly, his voice breaking.

"I didn't do anything," Mütten insists, looking slightly offended by the accusation. "I only sent some men round Midgar, to that shithole she was hiding in. Was hoping to use her as a bit of leverage, actually, just in case you chose not to cooperate . . . or if you tried to do something stupid."

"I am cooperating," Rufus protests. He shakes his manacles again, suddenly seized by a blinding sort of desperation, needing to break free and look upon Charlie's face, just to make sure she's alive and unhurt. "She's done nothing wrong. All the blame you're so eager to put on someone, put it on me. She tried to save the world, damn you."

Mütten frowns, punching him in the stomach with no warning. Rufus grunts, fighting back the urge to be sick. "My men never came back. Went to have a little look, just to see what happened."

Despite the pain, Rufus lifts his eyes and forces himself to keep them open. His heart beats quickly, likely loud enough for Mütten to hear. "And?"

Mütten sighs loudly, leaning forward and adopting a very serious look on his face. "All three of them were dead and rotting in that place she was hiding. One shot in the stomach with bite marks on his hand. The other two were shot in the head."

Rufus swallows the lump in his throat. "And my sister?"

The man smiles twistedly, as if this is nothing more than a game to him. "Disappeared," he replies, "the lucky little bitch."

All the breath leaves him at once. The relief that Charlie has escaped the clutches of Mütten is too much to bear. As Rufus hangs his head, too weak to look up, Mütten grabs his face and forces their eyes to meet.

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?" he asks, and Rufus has to bite his tongue, seeing red. "I know several of my men that were looking forward to seeing if that sweet little body of hers looks like it does on those magazines she used to do. Tell me, boy, does it look the same? You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Rufus doesn't answer. His nostrils flare, and if his hands were free, Mütten might never laugh or smile or walk again once Rufus had his way with him.

"Go on, Mr. President, tell me this, and maybe I won't hurt you anymore today." Mütten is enjoying this far too much, smiling again, a horrible malicious smile. He lowers his voice to a breathy whisper, and his breath is vulgar and foul against Rufus's face. "What does your sister's cunt feel like? Bet it's nice and warm, isn't it? Was it always soaking wet for you when you fucked her?"

Madness takes him, and Rufus struggles against the chains, moving forward in a sorry attempt to strangle Mütten or punch him or something that would involve lots and lots of pain. "Shut up," he growls instead, unable to touch the man in front of him. "Leave her out of this."

Mütten's smile grows, but now he's laughing again, booming laughter that is unwarranted in such a situation. "I'm only joking, Mr. President," he says, patting Rufus's shoulder too hard, the pain shooting down his side and making his broken ribs ache. "You really think she's crying over you? You think that sister of yours has shed any tears for you?"

Standing back up, Mütten continues to laugh all the way up the stairs, slamming the basement door shut and leaving Rufus in the darkness again.

Is Charlie crying for me? he can't help but ask himself. Why should she, after all I've done to her?

Rufus settles back against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Damn you, Turks, he thinks, hurry up and find me. Find me so I can see my sister again.

"Missing? What do you mean missing?"

"I mean missing. Someone took him from the house in Kalm nearly three weeks ago, and we've still not come upon any leads."

"I don't know what you ex—damn!"

"Is everything all right?"

Reeve looks down at his feet, where his groceries have all spilled through the bottom of the paper bags cradled in his arms, no more than five feet from the door to Rufus's old apartment. He closes his eyes, inhaling very deeply to keep from swearing loud enough to alarm everyone else in the building.

"What do you want me to do, Tseng?" He keeps the phone between his shoulder and his ear, kneeling to pick up the broken jars and bruising food. "I don't have the reach, nor the resources, to help conduct a search for Rufus right now." Gathering what he can back into his hold, he stands. "How's Charlie?"

"She's safe, and currently very well-hidden, but it's not her that we're concerned about at the moment. We need all the manpower we can get."

"I don't know what to tell you," Reeve sighs, awkwardly unlocking the door and letting himself inside. "Please send Charlotte my sincerest condolences and love, but I'm trying to start a life, one that is far, far away from Shinra Incorporated."

"I think Charlotte would be saddened to hear that sentiment."

"Charlotte knows how I feel about the company."

"You know, I think it might be in your best interests to garner a little favor with the vice president," Tseng says smoothly, speaking as if he knows very much what he's doing by using Charlie to get what he wants. "She might be a little more open to future suggestions should you do whatever is in your power to help find her brother."

He's right, of course. It might be easier to coerce Charlie away from her brother and from the remains of Shinra Inc. if he did something that showed he was still very much concerned for her wellbeing, but Reeve is no fool—return once to the company, and he'll be sucked back into that life with too much ease.

"You're not seriously considering rebuilding Shinra, are you?" he has to ask, wondering how much support Rufus and his Turks (and Charlie, he supposes) might receive should they follow through on these plans.

"It wouldn't be very wise of me to discuss future plans with someone who has just recently submitted their resignation," Tseng answers, only serving to further frustrate Reeve.

"And yet the Turks are still coming to me for help," he grumbles, though he receives no reply to that. "I'll let you borrow Cait, but that's it, and I don't know how much use he'll be. He was damaged very badly during the fight with Sephiroth, and I haven't had the time to look at him properly, so don't expect much."

"If you could just ask around in Junon, see if anything has noticed anything suspicious—"

"I'm not a Turk!" Reeve growls through gritted teeth, slamming the door of the apartment shut behind him with his foot. After a moment of silence on the other end, he places the groceries on the nearest counter and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I apologize. It's been a rather trying time for me."

"I understand, and I would not be asking for help if it weren't absolutely necessary."

"Listen, if you send a Turk to Junon, I will meet with them to tell them what I know or give them any leads that I might have, but—" He braces himself against the counter, speaking in a low voice—"once Rufus is found, I don't owe you, him, or the company anything more."

"Rude is already on his way. He should be there in no more than two hours. Your help is much appreciated, Reeve, and I'm certain that Charlotte will be happy to hear of your involvement."

Reeve doesn't give Tseng another answer, only hangs up with a frustrated sigh.

So Rufus is missing . . .

While this is news to him, it comes as no surprise. Surely people all over the world are angry with Shinra, and the bed-ridden president of the entire operation was completely vulnerable and ripe for the taking, half-hidden away in some house in Kalm that's likely been overrun with sick and hungry refugees by now. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered Rufus was still alive at all.

He supposes it's rather lucky that nothing had happened to Charlotte. Even just from overhearing innocent conversations while shopping for food, it's obvious that Midgar is in a terrible state, and probably the worst place to keep Charlie. He hears whispers of coups and small militia groups forming with Shinra-grade weapons somehow stolen from the remains of the Shinra Building, which only serves to make Reeve nervous about what will potentially happen to the once grand city he helped create.

Though now that he comes to think of it, he highly doubts that the Turks have left Charlie in Midgar after what happened to Rufus. And if they have moved her somewhere they're certain is safe, Reeve doesn't have the slightest idea as to where she might be. They haven't given him any information, nor any clues as to her whereabouts, and he doesn't even have a way to contact her now that Veld has gone back home to his daughter, something he had only found out the other day when he called.

At this rate, he isn't certain of anything at all.

Finding volunteers for some form of interim government is far more difficult than he assumed it would be, and earning anyone's trust as a former employee of Shinra is just as difficult.

And now, he isn't certain that Rufus Shinra is even alive, nevermind the fact that Charlotte might never come to Junon, might never come to return the engagement ring, and might never contact him again unless forced to.

Even so, there's at least a chance she'll thank him if he manages to help the Turks find Rufus alive.

Even just a 'thank you' would be better than this never-ending silence.

"Where have you left Charlotte?"

Rude looks him up and down from across the round table, eyes hidden behind lightly tinted sunglasses. For once, he isn't wearing his suit, but something that helps him blend in with the refugees and citizens of Junon. Even so, his general appearance seems to intimidate others around them that are trying to enjoy lunch at a small restaurant in the center of the relatively untouched city.

"That's a company secret," Rude replies, unshakable as always, "for now."

Reeve sets his drink down, exhaling loudly. "And if I wanted to visit her?"

"I'll take care to see if she's open for a visit when I see her again."

"You know," Reeve begins again, gritting his teeth. "You ask a lot for someone who won't even tell me the location of the woman I'm to marry."

Rude snorts. "When's the wedding?"

"To be determined."

The two of them sit in silence for a moment. Reeve hadn't had much luck finding any leads within the city, and it seems to him that Rufus hadn't been brought anywhere near Junon. If someone had seen him, surely it would create some buzz.

"Where's Cait?" Rude asks, looking around as if expecting Cait Sith to be sitting underneath the table, awaiting orders.

"At my apartment, but it's like I told Tseng, he was badly injured in the fight with Sephiroth."

"I'm good with that stuff. I'll take a look when I get the chance."

"You won't," Reeve scoffs, the very thought of someone else messing about with Cait's programming slightly offensive. "Besides, I don't quite think you have the technology anymore, unless you've recovered things from HQ that I haven't been made aware of."

Rude scans the restaurant, sipping casually at a tall glass of water. "I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with the company."

"What company?" Reeve fires back, his blood pressure spiking. "You mean a handful of Turks and the daughter of the late president? There is no company."

"So long as either Charlie or her brother are alive, there is a Shinra company."

Reeve doesn't like that answer at all, feeling it's not only a cop-out, but it's unfair to both Rufus and Charlie. "Don't you understand the burden you're forcing on the both of them?" When Rude looks away to glance around again, he continues. "Have you even bothered to ask Charlie what she wants?"

Rude sighs very heavily. "Look, the boss has let her know multiple times she's under no obligation to stay. She's been given the chance to leave, and she's refused."

"Why?" Reeve asks, forcing himself to pretend that answer doesn't sting. "Because of Rufus? Is that the way of things?"

"I'm sure the disappearance of her brother has a lot to do with it," Rude replies, though it's not in the condescending way Reeve is certain that Tseng would spit the words at him. "I haven't taken it upon myself to ask her for any personal reasons, however. After all, I work for her. It wouldn't be right, would it?"

Perhaps not condescending in tone, Reeve thinks to himself, but he feels that Rude is mocking him. "It's more than that, and you know it," he protests gently, not wanting to anger the Turk. "You're all her family. You're all obligated to see that she's safe and healthy and allowed to grow beyond Shinra."

"She's a grown woman, Reeve, capable of making her own decisions. If she wanted to leave, she would. She already did once before."

Reeve is quiet for a moment. Perhaps he's only trying to mentally will Rude to give the answers to his questions he wants to hear, but that seems highly unlikely now. If Charlie wanted to leave, she would have, there's no doubt about it.

But he can still hold out hope that once Rufus is found alive and well and Charlie can confirm he's fine, she might decide to part ways with the company.

"Why don't we head back to the apartment?" Reeve suggests after a few minutes, finally accepting defeat. "And then you can leave me alone."

Rude eyes him warily. "Reeve," he says quietly, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "She hasn't forgotten about you."

A lump forms in Reeve's throat the size of a basketball, making it difficult to swallow, breathe, and speak. "Well," he croaks, lowering his eyes, "tell her I haven't forgotten about her either."

"Something's really wrong, Boss."

"How so?"

"She won't come out of her room for even a minute. She even eats all her meals in there. She keeps the door locked all day, too, won't let me come in even to check on her."

"I find it hard to believe a locked door could stop you from entering if need be."

"Well, it's just . . ."

Tseng looks into the rearview mirror, taking one last look at Kalm as he drives back towards the hollow ruins of Midgar, bitter and irritated with their timing. Witnesses had told them of a man being carried out of a burning building wearing a white suit and a neckbrace, but there had been no guesses as to where he might have been taken.

"Explain yourself, Freyra, and be quick about it," he snaps into the phone, glancing sideways at Rude, who keeps both eyes on the road ahead of them. "I don't have time to hold silly conversations right now. It's just what?"

"It's just that, it's a bit rude to barge into Miss Shinra's bedroom. If I do that, she might never trust me again."

"Understand this, Freyra," Tseng continues, and he can hear Reno snickering from the backseat, "Charlotte Shinra is far more forgiving than her father or brother ever were or ever will be. In this particular case, I would advise begging forgiveness over asking permission."

"She's not going to like it."

"It's a good thing, then, that your job does not require others to like you."

"Whatever you say, Boss, but she'll be pissed off."

"I've seen Charlotte pissed off before. She'll be fine. Make sure she's eating, and let her know that I'll call her tonight with an update."

"Do you have a lead?" Freyra asks quickly, immediately perking up on the other end of the phone.

"We did, but the president continues to evade us. Don't let her know that, however. I'll break the news to her tonight when I'm certain there are no more witnesses withholding information from us. Good-bye."

The moment he hangs up the call with Freyra, Elena puts her face between his shoulder and Rude's, looking up at Tseng with wide brown eyes. "Sir, if I may?"

"Go on," Tseng tells her, knowing that she'll say whatever she has to say no matter what. "Spit it out, Elena."

"Right, well . . . speaking as a woman, sir . . . it's just that I don't know that we're going about this the right way with Miss Shinra . . . sir."

Tseng turns in his seat to look down upon Elena's round face. He isn't angry—after all, Elena is still relatively new to the Turks, despite what she might think, and has not been around Charlotte for half as long as Reno, Rude, or himself. "And you think you understand Charlotte Shinra better than I do?" he asks mildly.

"No, sir, I—I'm only saying that—well, I think I understand women better than you do," Elena adds, giving a nervous shrug of her shoulders and suddenly looking very wary, as if she knows she's overstepped. "And no woman likes to be kept in a cage."

"A cage?" Tseng scoffs. "With the world in the state that it's currently in, Charlotte does not have the luxury of walking down the streets of Midgar unprotected. If the worst has happened to her brother, she remains the sole heir to Shinra Incorporated, which leaves her vulnerable for more attempts on her life. Charlotte Shinra is not like other women, and she never has been. I do not need to understand the intricacies of common women to understand her."

Reno clears his throat loudly, pulling Elena into her seat again, and the rest of the ride to Midgar is silent.

As the weeks drag on, the Turks are no closer to finding Rufus than they were when they started.

Charlie finds she can't eat or sleep, content to waste away on a bed in the presidential suite of some ridiculously outdated recovery facility that had been allowed to collect dust over the years.

What's worse is—when she does give in to an hour or two of sleep—the nightmares, the dreams of fresh and sticky blood all over her and a smoking gun in her hand, the weight of the dead man's body collapsing onto her. She had never meant to actually murder anyone, but she didn't have a choice, though that doesn't make the memory any easier.

"We have Cait Sith roaming the streets of Midgar, listening for whispers or rumors, anything that might lead us somewhere," Tseng tells her one evening, having brought water filters to ensure that she isn't poisoning herself via the water supply. "If your brother is being held in Midgar, it's only a matter of time until we find out where. If not . . . someone in the city must have an idea."

"Is Reeve in Midgar?" she asks, wondering how things are coming with whatever he planned on doing when he left her and his city via helicopter.

"No, Madam Vice President. Reeve remains in Junon, but has allowed us use of Cait since we're slightly short on manpower."

She doesn't care about anything else, only that Rufus hasn't yet been found, so she rolls over that night and puts her back towards Tseng, indicating that he should leave.

Another night, Tseng brings supplies and some greasy street food that he knows Charlie is fond of. It's a dirty trick, and she refuses it, still upset with the fact that the lock and handle on her door is now broken.

"I want a new Turk," she hisses at him, unwashed and exhausted, her stomach growling at the scent of the food, but unwilling to show Tseng that she's easy to bribe with such simple things. "I want a new Turk that knows how to knock and doesn't just break the door down whenever they please."

She notices Tseng's cheeks color slightly at this accusation. "It may have been on my orders that she broke the door down," he tells her with an inclined head. "Forgive her, Madam Vice President. It was only out of concern that I insisted she enter the room."

"Since it's your fault, you can fix the door, then," Charlie huffs, and she only softens towards him once he grabs tools from the car and comes back right away, working on fixing the door best he can in silence, without once complaining.

And once, when Tseng comes with an update, Charlie nearly loses her mind.

"Nothing yet, but I've given the others the go-ahead to resort to more . . . well, to be blunt, I've agreed to employ more brutal tactics in this case. It is of the utmost importance, after all."

"How is that an update?" she hisses through gritted teeth, growing ever more frustrated with the Turks' lack of success. "Are you or are you not capable of doing your job?"

He frowns at her, hands held behind his back. He is not being friendly today, but has masked himself in that steely professionalism she knows so well. "We are doing all we can to ensure your brother is found. Alive," he adds quickly. "With the way things are, we do not have the arsenal of equipment at our disposal that we used to."

"You never should have left him alone in the first place!" she shouts, red-faced. "What could have possibly possessed you to leave my broken brother in a home by himself?"

For the first time, Tseng falters. He glances away for a split second, a massive tell, and Charlie feels almost triumphant. "We were under the impression that he was well hidden in plain sight," he reminds her. "And it was under his orders that we returned to Midgar to collect information for him."

"I thought you had learned by now not to blindly follow orders," she retorts darkly, hitting him below the belt, right where she knows it will hurt him. "Especially orders given to you by a man with his mind foggy from all the painkillers you had been feeding him."

When Tseng fails to answer, Charlie puts both hands on his chest, shoving him backwards.

"It's your fault he's gone."

"And I apologize for the oversight," he answers, brushing himself off, "but I am doing everything in my power to make up for it, and to find your brother."

"Your apology is appreciated, but I don't accept it. I'll be pleased when my brother is standing in front of me again. Now go, and bring him back."

To make up for the cold way she had acted towards both Freyra and Tseng (though her coldness isn't entirely unwarranted, she thinks), Charlie begins to venture out of her bedroom, though still tries to keep away from Freyra.

She feels very much as if she's under house arrest, and though she knows it's only for her own safety, it still doesn't sit well with her. Of course, she should be grateful that she's still alive—not only could Meteor have killed her (or anything on her journey with Avalanche), but she was dangerously close to being taken, raped, murdered, or whatever those three men had in mind for her.

If men like that were coming for her, then who had come for Rufus?

Veld and Freyra had acted far too quickly, though Charlie is still thankful they acted at all. Had they only killed one and injured the other, the Turks might have found Rufus by now with some information that had been violently coerced from the intruder.

Without any cable or satellite, she's forced to watch old movies on the only television in the entire place, eating whatever microwavable food Tseng had brought. It's not good, but she had lived for weeks eating fresh game cooked on a spit over a fire, or berries and roots and mushrooms when they were low on gil, and she thinks that the microwavable food is somewhat manageable, all things considered.

She considers calling Reeve every so often, but Tseng had told her that no one knew where Charlie was currently hiding except for the Turks. She hadn't thought that was very fair, but Tseng had given her the choice to go to Junon and she had refused, so she can't blame anyone but herself if her hiding place remains a mystery.

One morning, Charlie decides to have breakfast with Freyra in the formal dining room, both of them sitting in chairs on opposite sides of the long table, eating oatmeal and bruised fruit.

They eat in silence for a little while, save for the sound of cutlery and the occasional clearing of a throat.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Shinra?" Freyra asks suddenly, halfway through breakfast.

Charlie lifts her eyes, shrugging slightly. "You may."

Looking a little more hopeful, the Turk continues. "I wanted to ask about outer space, and your rocket. You haven't told the whole story yet, and I'd love to hear about it and about your travels with Avalanche, as well."

"Why?" Charlie asks, fork held halfway to her mouth. "Why would you want to know about that?"

"I'm only curious, I swear. I haven't been put up to this, if that's what you're worried about." Freyra smiles sweetly, still looking as much of a child now as she did all those years ago, bright and innocent-looking and doe-eyed. "I mean, you traveled the world and saw sights that I've never imagined before. But I did see your rocket before, and you've taken it to outer space now. That's the ultimate adventure, isn't it?"

"Look, I appreciate your interest in the subject, but a lot happened during our travels that I'm not ready to discuss with the Turks," she continues, though if she's being honest, she would love to tell someone everything. In truth, she would probably be very comfortable telling Tseng or even Reno about everything, but she doesn't trust Freyra like she trusts them. "Maybe another time."

Freyra doesn't bring it up at all for the next week, and it's only at dinner on the seventh night, while they eat at opposite ends of the table again, does Charlie clear her throat and sit a little straighter in her chair.

"Have you ever been to Cosmo Canyon?" she asks softly, noticing Freyra suddenly perk up.

"No, but I've heard it's the best place in the world to observe the heavens," Freyra replies, in what Charlie would describe as an almost dreamy tone.

"It is," Charlie agrees, smiling weakly to herself. "It was where my mother went when she left Father. It was where she died. I saw her grave for myself, a worn thing atop a beautiful cliff side, overlooking the sea in the distance." When the Turk decides to remain silent, listening politely, she continues. "That was where I intended to end my journey, at first, but I only made it as far as Gongaga before I was brought back to Midgar."

"What was in Gongaga?" Freyra asks.

Charlie gives her head a slight shake. The excursion to the remote village of Gongaga seems almost a lifetime ago. Aerith had been alive and Barret still despised Charlie, Cloud had still believed he was a former SOLDIER, and Cait Sith was only still a whimsical fortune teller from Gold Saucer.

"Sephiroth was supposed to be there—or rather, he was supposed to have been heading that way. That's what Dio had told us." She lowers her silverware and dabs at her mouth with a scratchy cloth napkin. "The first place we went after leaving Costa del Sol was Gold Saucer. We went on foot, over Mount Corel and through what remained of North Corel. I saw the old reactor and the evidence of what my father's company had done to people who were just trying to survive best they could."

That evening, Charlie tells Freyra of her experience in Corel, of Nanaki recognizing a picture of her mother and the realization that followed, of her first meeting with Cait Sith (something Freyra claims to have great knowledge of), and of the desert prison at the Gold Saucer, escapable only via death, a chocobo race, or having connections to the vice president of Shinra Incorporated.

When Charlie reaches the point in her story about meeting the Turks just outside Gongaga, she doesn't know that she's prepared to continue. She decides to sleep on it, wondering how much about her imprisonment and what followed it to divulge with the girl across the table, and Freyra doesn't press Charlie for details when she calls it a night.

Unable to sleep that night, Charlie calls Tseng on a whim, as it's been almost two weeks since his last appearance. He's due to return any day now, in order to replenish Charlie and Freyra's food supply, but even a few days seem like years now.

"Is everything all right?" Tseng answers, not even bothering to give a proper greeting.

"Everything is fine," she whispers, lying on her back in bed and staring up at the dark ceiling. "Have you found any leads?"

"No solid leads yet," he replies quickly, "but we're leaving no stone unturned. Unfortunately, I fear it's taking up much of our time . . . being so thorough, that is."

It's good to hear Tseng's voice. It's good to hear any voice that isn't her own or Freyra's. "Did I wake you?"

"No," he says, though it very much sounds like it. "It's late, however, and you should be sleeping."

"I can't sleep."

There's a long pause on the other end of the phone. "Neither can I."

"Do you dream of it, as well?" Charlie asks in a very quiet voice, knowing that she does not have to elaborate, knowing that their trip into the Temple of the Ancients had been something incredibly traumatizing for him, nearly killing him.

"Yes," he admits, equally as quiet, "and often."

She sighs, feeling sorry for him. "I still dream of my father sometimes, and Sephiroth's sword through his back." Running a hand through her hair, she adds, "I'd like to see his grave one day, just to see if it still stands."

"That can be arranged once things have calmed down."

"Good. Thank you."

Two days later, Tseng and Elena drive up to the resort with boxes full of perishables and fresher food than they've been able to get lately. It seems delivery services are on the rise, fetching more products for civilians that lack transportation or other resources, which means better food and better supplies in general.

As Tseng meticulously unpacks the food in the kitchen, setting it onto the metal counter where Charlie is perched, one knee held to her chest, watching him with a bored expression, she can't help but ask, "He's dead, isn't he?"

Tseng sets down the can of crushed tomatoes in his hand, slowly lifting his eyes to meet Charlie's. "I have good reason to believe that your brother is still alive."

Charlie wants to believe that, but it's hard to keep faith. "But what if he's not?"

"If the president of Shinra was dead, someone would have gloated about it by now."

"It's been nearly three months." Her eyes sting with tears, the thought physically painful. "He could be on the other side of the planet by now, or rotting in the ground outside Kalm."

Tseng remains silent, resuming his work and unpacking another paper bag.

"Why would someone have kidnapped him and not asked for ransom? Or for a favor? Or for the rest of the Turks and I to stand down?" she pleads, hoping for answers, but dreading them all the same. "How long is the search going to continue?"

"Until we find out the truth. Until we find your brother either alive or dead," he tells her firmly, reassuringly. "But I am confident that he remains alive."

Charlie scoffs, holding her knee to her chest and sighing. "But for how long?" she mutters, not receiving an answer in return.

He's lost count of how many weeks he's been in this godforsaken cave, devoid of any natural light and cold and damp.

He still aches, his entire body still feeling broken. Mütten had done an incredible amount of damage to his already broken bones and bruised flesh, and now he's forced to walk with a cane, forced to accept help from a doctor that may not even be a proper doctor at all, more akin to a scientist that always seems eager to poke and prod at him. Fingers always seem to linger on Rufus's skin, and there's a hunger in the doctor's eye he doesn't like, like a predator toying with his food.

There is hardly enough food for everyone and, and rationing is something Rufus is not accustomed to, leaving his stomach constantly growling and cramping. At least there is water to go around, though sometimes it makes him bloat and retch aside the small cot that's been provided to him.

Delirious from fever, exhaustion, and from a slight feeling of claustrophobia, Rufus can't find the energy to explore any longer, not that there's much else to find in these series of cave tunnels that he hasn't found already.

When first he had been brought here, he had woken every morning hoping something may have shifted with help from some of the aftershocks, but the earth has seemed to settle now that it's been months after Meteorfall.

There is no escape anymore, not unless his Turks come to find him, and how would they think to look here?

"Not so hard," he chides the woman tending to his bruises, using some form of paste that had been left behind by the doctor before his departure a few days ago. "Watch where you're touching."

The girl lifts her hands for a moment, but doesn't seem relatively affronted. "I'm sorry."

Her hair is a bit ashy, but in the dim lighting, her face looks sharp and smooth. Her nose is long, but curved at the end, nothing like Charlie's, but her cheekbones are high and her eyebrows thin. Rufus hums. "You remind me a little of my sister," he says quietly, though she doesn't really, but he supposes he's just imposing Charlie's look onto the poor girl.

She giggles into her hand, but it's weak and hardly convincing. "Thank you."

"Hm?"

"It's just that, your sister . . . she's very pretty, isn't she? So you've given me quite the compliment." The girl lifts her eyes, pressing a bit hard against his half-healed rib. "Better not let my husband know."

"My sister is more than pretty," Rufus snaps, his cheeks coloring slightly. Now that he looks closely, the girl seems older than Charlie, probably in her early-thirties with wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. "She's the most beautiful woman in the world."

The girl's face falls, and she doesn't meet his eyes again. "Are they true?" she whispers, though her voice still seems to echo in the small cave room and in his head. "The rumors about you and your sister?"

He considers her for a moment. They're both likely to die here. "What rumors have you heard?"

"That you're in love," she replies, though Rufus thinks she's only being polite about what she's really heard.

He's quiet for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. He misses Charlie very dearly, and this girl poses no threat to him. In fact, she's been very kind to him since they were first brought here, and she's been caring for his wounds in the doctor's stead for weeks.

"She was the only woman I've ever loved," he confesses, and it's the truth.

"She must be something," the girl says, and Rufus feels something within him lift, perhaps his spirit. "For the most eligible bachelor in the world to be completely in love with her."

"Yes, she is." He smiles to himself, half-ashamed. Charlie wouldn't like to know he's been talking about them. "I can't imagine a single man not being completely in love with her. Everyone adored her and her genius and her wit, everyone loved her. Even our father, for all the complaining he did . . . Father loved her more than me. He loved her enough to keep her away from the company as best he could, instead allowing the corruption to fester within me, his good-for-nothing son."

Once again, the girl raises her eyes to examine his face, eyebrows knitted together and listening closely, reserving judgement for now.

"It started innocently, when we were children. We would sleep in the same bed, share a few kisses . . . nothing that all siblings don't do when they're young, and Charlie and I . . . we were close enough in age that we were nearly inseparable for a time. We were all we had after Mother left, and once Father decided he no longer wanted to be a parent to his children."

"That's horrible."

"What else would you expect from our father? You know the things he did. Why should he have been any different at home?" he snaps, immediately regretting it. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," the girl murmurs, picking up some fresh bandages from the floor.

Rufus settles comfortably against his pillow, shifting almost restlessly. "Everyone loved Charlie," he sighs, "but Charlie loved me." He tries to recall when his feelings had changed, when they had shifted from innocent to possessive and lust-filled and greedy. "And two isolated children who knew nothing of real love . . . we knew it was wrong, but we did it anyway. We were lonely, and needed comfort. That's all it was, until she found others, men that were kinder and gentler and not half as selfish as me."

She doesn't answer, but Rufus doesn't care. He doesn't care if she isn't even listening.

"She'll deny it, even now, that she felt any romantic inclination towards me, but it was real to me," he whispers, close to tears. It must be the medicine making him feel this way, sentimental and reminiscing while he slowly dies in this damned cave. "All of the other women . . . not one of them looked at me the way Charlie did. Charlie wasn't interested in my name or my money. She was the only woman who could ever understand me without having to hear me speak."

The girl wraps his torso carefully with fresh bandages, hands dry and cracked.

"When she met Reeve, she was smitten, of course. He was successful and older and every bit as smart as she was, and most importantly, he was able to provide and care for her in the way she needed it. I don't blame her for falling in love with him, I only regret that I was never as good to her as he was."

He's speaking to no one in particular now, giving voice to things he's wanted to say for a long time.

"And now I'll never see her again. I'll never be able to . . . fully apologize, to atone for all the horrible things I've done to her."

This catches her attention once again, and her eyes widen. "You don't think we're going to die here, do you?"

Rufus gives her a steady look. "Perhaps not you," he answers, unsure if it's the truth or not, "but I highly doubt I will ever leave this cave alive."

"You should have a little hope."

"I'm running short on hope these days." Rufus turns his head away, pursing his lips and exhaling shortly through his nose. "I've told you enough. Please leave me now."

Spring is coming quickly, and the foliage at Cliff Resort is turning greener with every passing day.

The rushing of the waterfalls is constant, but it's a welcome noise, almost like the persistent humming of the reactors when Midgar had still been a grand city. It's comforting to her, and the longer she stays here, the more she can understand what might have made this place a relaxing retreat for businessmen used to the sounds of traffic and pedestrian chatter.

Even so, it's lonely with just herself and Freyra. The resort is far too big for just the two of them, and visits from other Turks have become more scarce, with Tseng bringing more supplies to last them longer each visit.

"Miss Shinra?"

Charlie hums, turning around to look over her shoulder at Freyra, whose head is poking through the balcony door. When she opens the door wider, Tseng is standing behind her, looking slightly grim.

For a moment, the breath escapes her, and she's suddenly fearful of the worst.

"Leave us, Freyra. I need to talk to Charlotte alone."

With a nervous look, Freyra nods and reenters the building, closing the door behind her. Tseng gestures towards the wooden table tucked in the corner of the deck, and the two of them sit down across from each other.

"There's been no news as of yet, but Reno remains optimistic." At these words, Charlie can breathe again for a few more hours, though they aren't the words she wanted to hear. "He thinks that your brother has something to do with the current rebuilding of Midgar."

"The rebuilding of Midgar?"

"Some volunteers, nothing more. They've been working on rebuilding a city center, with tools they shouldn't have had access to in the first place."

"But there have been no solid leads still?" she asks weakly.

Tseng inhales deeply, giving Charlie a very serious look. In a low voice, he says, "I think it's time to consider the idea of you running the Shinra company in truth."

"There's no company left to run," she answers, though the idea doesn't appeal to her at all. If Tseng is saying this, it only means that he's starting to give up, that he may not hope to find Rufus alive at all. "There's nothing left, Tseng. Everyone has scattered, Headquarters is in ruins, most of our technology is destroyed, and the company's reputation has been shattered. I have no objection to the Turks remaining together, but there would be no work for you."

"So you have no intention of furthering the company?" he asks, not unkindly. "There is still money to be had and made, and I'm certain that some loyal workers might return if jobs were made available. People won't want to work for free forever, and beyond Midgar, many towns still stand."

"What would you have me do?" Charlie asks again, quite sharply. "Start rebuilding reactors and using mako again? Invade those towns for their resources? Look at what that's done to us. Look at what it's done to the planet. The Shinra company prospered after the commodification of mako energy. No one is going to want to hire a private army commandeered by someone with my last name, and you, of all people, should understand that."

"No one suggested the re-commodification of mako energy or the reforming of a private military," Tseng replies, far calmer than she is. "But you should at least start by accompanying an escort to Midgar to give your support towards the volunteers."

"You're asking me to be a politician."

"You already have experience playing the part. What were you for your father's company in the last few years if not a politician?"

"I didn't ask for that role. My father isn't here to enforce anything upon me now."

Tseng doesn't answer for a long time, but she can see the obvious irritation in his face, flashing in his dark eyes. The bird song grows louder, until they're flying directly overhead, voices drowned out by the waterfalls the further they fly away.

"What do you want, Charlotte?" he finally asks with a resigned sigh, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. "Do you want me to find you some hidden corner of the world for you to waste away with all your potential? Do you want me to continue reporting to you regarding the Shinra company's affairs? Do you want me to reach out to Reeve? To bring you to Junon?"

Charlie looks away, out towards the forest that seems to creep closer every passing day, hiding the private cabins from clear view. "I just want my brother back," she rasps, tears burning her eyes. "That's all I want right now. Once Rufus is here, we can determine what my role will be."

Before Tseng is able to answer, his phone rings within his pocket. She continues to eye the surrounding tree line while he answers, and she can hear Reno's muffled voice on the other end of the line, sounding almost excited about something.

"What?" Tseng asks quickly, sitting up straight in his chair. "When?"

His tone makes Charlie curious, and she tries to listen a bit harder, but it's impossible to make out any real words.

"I'm leaving now. I'll be in Midgar soon." He ends the call, slips the phone into his breast pocket, and gets to his feet. "A call from Reno. He claims that someone has given him a note from the president himself."

This information makes Charlie jump to her feet, as well. "From Rufus? Are you sure?"

"I'm going to find out. Are you familiar with your brother's handwriting?"

"Yes, of course."

"I'll send you a picture for confirmation when I reach Midgar. Forgive me, Charlotte, but I must leave immediately."

"Yes, please, drive safely," she replies, and for the first time since she's arrived at Cliff Resort, Charlie watches Tseng drive back down the mountainside with hope in her heart.