"I'm afraid that it won't be long now. The disease has spread incredibly quickly."
Charlie and Tseng exchange a sideways look, both of them deep in thought. "Won't the stimulant prolong the time he has?" she can't help but ask, feeling desperate.
"The stimulant will ease the pain, but it is not a cure. You know that, Miss Shinra."
She can't be disappointed with an answer she half-expected. "How much longer does he have?"
Kilmister looks nervously between the both of them, clearly withdrawing from the drug. There's sweat beading at his receding hairline, and his face is drawn and pale. "If I were you, I would encourage him to begin getting his affairs in order."
"Very well," she replies, wanting nothing more than to get Kilmister out of her sight. His arm hangs limply in a sling, which gives her some small feeling of satisfaction. "Thank you."
She and Tseng remain as Kilmister makes his way out of the main building, back towards the smaller building out back that he's made his current research lab, complete with some technology recovered from the Shinra Building a few days ago. Elena had been tasked with keeping a close eye on him, as it was clear he couldn't be trusted with such a large supply of the stimulant without anyone around to make sure he wasn't abusing it.
Charlie wraps her arms around herself, feeling defeated.
Tseng puts a hand on her shoulder, looking out the nearest window with her to watch Kilmister cross the grounds. "He could be lying to us," he says quietly, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping patients. "It's possible he's trying to upset you as some queer form of revenge."
"He's not lying," she sighs, tearing her gaze away from the window. "The patients are dropping like flies, and Rufus's case is far more severe than many of the others who have already died."
"I would argue your brother has far more willpower than many of the others who have already died, as well."
"Willpower alone isn't going to save him." Charlie bites down on her bottom lip, trying not to shed any more tears. She had cried herself to sleep for days after Rufus returned, horrified that he had been infected by a disease with no known cure. "By the time Kilmister finds a cure—if he discovers a cure—it will be too late for Rufus."
"What would you have us do, Charlotte?" Tseng asks, removing his hand from her shoulder and stiffening.
"We'll just have to keep him comfortable for now."
He's quiet for a long while, but doesn't leave. Charlie doesn't mind his company—in fact, she's very grateful for it. "Charlotte," he begins again carefully, hesitating until she looks him in the face once more. "Perhaps you should call Reeve, just to update him on the current situation."
Charlie considers it for a moment. She won't pretend she hadn't thought of it, crying silently in bed, wondering if he would answer a call from her. She's left him in the dark for months, preoccupied with Rufus's disappearance and the influx of diseased patients, but it's true that Reeve should be informed of Rufus's current state.
Rufus wouldn't like that, but his word doesn't hold much weight around her right now. He's been sleeping most of the time, regaining his strength and energy so he can continue to run the company like he wants to, but Charlie isn't entirely certain that day will come.
"He would only worry," she finally answers, catching sight of Tseng's pursed lips and knowing he isn't happy with her decision. "Whatever you have to say, Tseng, just say it."
"There is no changing your mind, so it doesn't matter. If you don't wish to inform Reeve, then so be it."
Charlie sighs. "Try and find some other doctors that would be willing to assist Kilmister. I don't trust that he's working at his full potential, and we need the cure as soon as possible."
"Yes, ma'am," Tseng says with a nod.
After the Turk takes his leave to work on his new assignment, Charlie visits Rufus's room to check on his condition, which doesn't seem to be improving at all.
He's violently feverish, his skin burning hot to the touch and his entire body shaking with chills. He suffers from nightmares that are impossible to wake him from most times, and the black bruising continues to spread, marking his marble-like skin and killing him. He can't even find the strength to get out of bed, can't write or keep his eyes open for longer than a few minutes at a time, and can only hold conversation while the symptoms are treated with the stimulant.
Other than that, it's constant pain. His bones still haven't healed fully and the disease leaves him sobbing when the pain starts up again, pain that he can't quite locate, but seems to primarily focus on areas that are bruised and infected.
She won't deny that caring for Rufus has taken a toll on her own health, but she refuses to leave him be. Kilmister had claimed the disease would take his life within the month, if he ends up living past the next week or so, and she will not abandon him now.
He hears her enter the bedroom, eyes opening just barely. Sweat drips down his face in sheets. "Charlie," he rasps, breathing very heavily, as if this simple and natural task has become a chore for him. "Where were you?"
Charlie kisses his forehead, kneeling down at his bedside. "I was talking to Tseng. It's time for your medicine."
He seems relieved at that, closing his eyes again as Charlie sticks a dropper into the small glass bottle that holds what she hopes is salvation. Just a little bit, enough to ease the pain, but not too much that he'll become addicted and reliant upon the drug.
"What were you talking about?" he asks slowly, parting his lips so Charlie can drip the drug into his open mouth. She's become very practiced at this menial task now, having done it so many times for her brother and for the other patients, as well.
"They're building a new city just east of Midgar," she says, only half a lie, trying to sound as casual as possible to keep Rufus from suspecting she's just received horrible news. Masking her emotions in front of the patients is another thing she's become rather good at, and Rufus is no exception. "Apparently, it's going very well, but it certainly won't be half as spectacular as Midgar was in its prime."
Rufus's mouth twitches. "Why are you lying to me, sister?"
"I'm not lying," she counters gently, frowning at him. "I've had the Turks offer some of Shinra's resources, so construction has been easier on—"
"That's not what I meant." His voice is soft, reminding her of a ghost. "What were you talking to Tseng about?"
Baffled that he can read her so well, she refuses to answer at first.
"You've been crying."
"I've been crying a lot these days," she admits, regretting it the moment it leaves her mouth.
"Where's Reeve?"
Charlie falls silent again, skating her fingers over the bandages around his neck. "In Junon. You know that."
"I thought he might be interested—" He groans, attempting to shift in his bed with his eyes squeezed tight—"in seeing the—" Another groan—"deteriorating state of his former boss—" He groans once more, settling into a position that seems a bit more comfortable—"and the dying brother of his sweetheart."
She busies herself with the things upon his nightstand, slowly wrapping up the loose bandages that dangle off the edges. "I haven't spoken to Reeve in months."
"That sounds very unlike you," he breathes, turning his head slightly to watch her fuss with his things.
"We want different things," she says a bit waspishly, hoping to put an end to the conversation quickly. "And right now, our priorities are very different, as well. We'll meet again in the middle one day, I'm sure of it."
"If you say so." Rufus's eyes follow her as she stands back up. "Could you fetch Tseng for me? I want to discuss this new city with him."
"If you're concerned about the job I'm doing—"
"I'm not. I think you're doing a wonderful job, but I want to hear his point of view on the potential future of the company, as well." He pauses to wet his chapped lips. "And I would like to do so while I'm coherent."
She hesitates, but eventually nods, unwilling to deny her brother such a simple request with such little time remaining to him.
"Leading suits her."
Tseng looks down at him, stiff and rigid upon the chair, eyes roving up and down his broken body seemingly carelessly, like he isn't concerned about being caught. "Truthfully, there isn't much leading to be done. She's had us contribute some supplies and aimless workers to aid with construction, but her priority remains the patients here."
"I would expect no less of my sweet sister." Rufus is able to manage a proud little smile, but he's certain it seems more like a grimace. "Though being so sweet, I know that she's keeping things from me—to spare my feelings, to be sure." He notes the look of discomfort on Tseng's face. "Tell me the truth, Tseng. What has that fool doctor said of my diagnosis? How much time do I have left?"
The Turk exhales loudly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Kilmister thinks it's time for you to begin getting your affairs in order."
"Not long, then, hm?"
Rufus won't pretend the truth doesn't shake him, but he'll be damned if he goes like this, lying half-dead in a bed that isn't his own, unable to walk on his own, unable to eat on his own, unable to go to the bathroom on his own, unable to do anything without someone at his side.
"Charlotte has asked me to recruit some more . . . trusted doctors, in order to help Kilmister work on a cure," Tseng continues, as if this reassures him. "There are a few I have in mind, so long as they're still alive, all of them former Shinra employees."
"Charlie told me something curious just earlier," Rufus says, wanting to address this before the medicine either wears off or puts him to sleep. "She claims she hasn't spoken to Reeve in months."
"As far as I know, it's the truth, though we've been encouraging her to speak to him." Tseng shifts awkwardly upon his seat, which is interesting. Tseng has never had a tell, so far as Rufus knows, but it seems he's become complacent here at Cliff Resort.
"Have you been keeping tabs on him?"
The Turk sighs. "Veld has been in consistent contact with Reeve, but his reports are . . . vague."
"In other words, he's protecting Reeve."
"Yes, he's protecting Reeve, and he has not been subtle about it. I know he tried to take Charlotte with him when he left, but she refused him." He wrings his hands together. Rufus knows this topic troubles him, his usual stoic leader. It's curious to see how Charlotte affects him. "She's grown attached to the other patients."
Rufus looks up at the ceiling, at the fluorescent lighting that reminds him of his father's old office—of his old office—in the Shinra Building. "Our father kept Charlie out of the family business because of her soft heart," he says quietly, remembering all the tears she had shed as a child whenever she had been left behind. "It was not a punishment, as she thinks it was. It was a blessing, and done out of whatever queer love my father felt for her. I am slightly more understanding of it now when I see what the company has done to my sister."
"The Shinra Company is not the same, nor will it ever be the same, as it once was," Tseng reminds him, as if the reminder is at all necessary. Rufus knows what has become of his father's company, knows that the world will not be half as forgiving towards him and his legacy now. "There are still secrets to be uncovered, to be sure, but Charlotte could be very useful if you intend to push forward."
Letting out a dry and humorless laugh, Rufus turns his head to face Tseng. "And what happens when I'm gone?"
"As of right now, I believe your sister has every intention of running the company for as long as she can."
Rufus considers it, a future in which he is no longer here, a future in which Charlotte is the last remaining Shinra, fruitlessly running a failing and collapsing company. Her version of the new and improved Shinra Inc. would likely be far more for the people than it has ever been, certainly, but it would weigh on her until she was ruthless and heartless and cold. It had happened to their father, and it had happened to him.
I will not allow that to happen to my sweet sister, Rufus thinks to himself.
"Do me a favor," he finally says to Tseng, who seems to have been waiting for an order. "Leave the doctors to Reno and Rude. I have another task for you—one that is of the utmost secrecy . . . Charlie mustn't know . . ."
Charlie looks down at her phone, scrolling aimlessly through her contacts. There aren't many numbers plugged in, only a few emergency contacts: Tseng, Reno, Rude, Elena, the other Turks, and Reeve.
Part of her wishes she could reach out to someone in Avalanche. She wants to know what they've been up to, if they've been thinking about her, if they've begun rebuilding. She could reach out to Veld and see if he could send Vincent her way, but Charlie doubts that Vincent would have more information on their former comrades than she would, given that he's decided to pull away and reconnect with his old colleagues when possible.
She needs someone to unload on, to cry to. The stress is starting to weigh on her, especially after hearing Kilmister describe Rufus's severe diagnosis and after watching the other diseased patients die off one-by-one.
When will Rufus's time come to an end? When will she be forced to bury her little brother? What if it happens when she wakes up one morning and finds him still and silent and dead in his bed? She can't possibly focus all of her free time on him, no matter how badly she wants to.
Her bedroom grows hot with the sun shining on her through the open windows, despite the cool breeze blowing in from off the waterfalls. It smells nothing like Midgar out here, but fresh and clean, reminding her slightly of Gongaga and the way the forest had smelled.
She only has a little bit of time to herself until she has to begin serving lunch to the patients, and she doesn't want to spend it doing absolutely nothing. It feels good to be off her feet, to be away from people who need her to do everything for them, but it also feels incredibly isolating and lonely to not be needed.
Charlie's thumb hovers over the button that would connect her to Reeve.
She misses him terribly, but doesn't know what she would say to him. Surely by now he's thrown himself deep into his work, rebuilding some competing company that will likely overtake Shinra in a couple of years.
She touches the chain around her neck, where her engagement ring hangs, typically hidden underneath her shirt where no one can see it but her. She likes it better that way—it saves her from answering awkward questions and it saves her from small smiles when someone compliments the diamond.
She had promised to return it to Reeve, but again, she's only let him down. It seems as if that's the thing she does best, and how could anyone ever want someone who does nothing but let them down?
But it would be so sweet to hear his voice again, to know that he hasn't forgotten about her. After all, it's not guaranteed that Reeve even has this phone number, and maybe he's tried to call her old phone, but wasn't able to get through to her.
With her heart fluttering, Charlie presses the button, almost hanging up right away.
The other line rings a few times before there's a soft click, and a deep, "Hello?"
For a moment, she can't even speak. Just hearing his voice again is enough to bring her to tears, and she swallows the lump in her throat.
"Hello?" he says again, sounding slightly irritable.
His tone makes her afraid that he might not want to speak with her, but it's worth a shot. "It's me," she croaks, and the silence that follows on his end is the heaviest silence she's ever felt.
"Charlie," he replies, and she can hear him smiling over the phone, making her break down into quiet tears. "Charlie, is that really you?"
"It's really me," she says, laughing softly through tears.
"Gods, but it's good to hear your voice again," he answers, laughing with her. "I tried calling a few weeks ago, but your phone was shut-off."
"I got a new phone. I'm sorry I haven't called until now," she sighs, wiping at her eyes. "I've just been so busy."
"Veld told me a little when he returned to Junon. He said you were taking care of sick patients. Is it true?"
"Yes, it's true—"
A knock on her bedroom door interrupts her. Tseng pokes his head inside and Charlie holds a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone, watching his eyes fix upon it for a moment.
"I'm leaving for a little while, and I'm taking Reno and Rude with me on the search for doctors," he explains warily, meeting her eyes again. "Elena is staying here, and Freyra is on her way. Be kind to them, Charlotte."
"Fine, fine," she hisses, annoyed that he's interrupted such a sweet moment, trying not to show off the fact that she's been crying. "Just hurry up with the job, would you?"
Reeve clears his throat on the other end, just as Tseng ducks out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "Listen, Charlie, it's so good to speak to you again, but do you think I could call you back tonight? I have a few important meetings in about fifteen minutes that I need to prepare for."
Her heart sinks, but she keeps up the chipper tone best she can. "Of course. I have things to do in a few minutes, as well."
"Hey, listen," he says, seemingly sensing her disappointment, "I'm really glad you called. I'll talk to you tonight, yes?"
"Sure."
"All right. Take care, Charlie."
Not even an I love you, she can't help but think. "Good-bye, Reeve."
Tseng arrives in Junon around dusk. It was a long, fast drive, but with no traffic, it made for an easy drive, at least.
Reno and Rude had followed him in a separate car until Kalm, until they had split for their separate duties.
To his surprise, Junon remains rather untouched by Meteor's destruction. The infrastructure here is strong, and the buildings that have been damaged in the wake of things by the tremors are already being rebuilt by professional-looking construction crews, most of them wearing a patch somewhere on their clothes with WRO emblazoned on them in bright red.
What's more surprising is that everyone seems in good spirits. Citizens still dine in restaurants that are serving more modest meals, and there are still shops that line the main street that are now selling salvage and raw materials rather than weapons and materia.
No one answers the door when Tseng knocks on the apartment door, and there's no one inside after he picks the lock. Though he shouldn't, he does look around a little, only to find that the apartment is still rather bare, as if it hasn't been used in weeks. There's little food, everything is perfectly clean, and there are no personal effects anywhere.
It would have been far easier to call Veld, to ask where he could find Reeve, but as Veld doesn't know he's in Junon, Tseng doesn't want to alert him to that fact just yet. Veld will know right away that Tseng being in Junon will have something to do with Charlie, and it will likely get messy to have too many people involved.
But it's easy enough to find a WRO member outside the apartment—two of them, in fact, standing in a shady place across the street, leaning up against the wall of a building and watching carefully as he approaches.
"I'm looking for Reeve," Tseng tells them curtly, starting to sweat in his suit, though the breeze off the water (despite smelling rather foul and polluted) does ease the heat. "Where can I find him?"
The WRO members look at each other for a moment, both of them unable to be identified underneath their helmets, already scratched and dented as if made from recycled material. The one who speaks is a little taller than the other, and obviously a man judging by the baritone of his voice.
"The commissioner?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Tseng answers, pushing his hair out of his face. "Reeve Tuesti. Where can I find him? It's very urgent."
"Who's asking?" the other soldier asks, puffing his chest out, nearly a head shorter than Tseng.
"I'm here on behalf of Charlotte Shinra," he replies, thinking it best to leave out the information about his actual career. "The woman he is to marry. Now, where can I find him?"
The soldiers exchange a look, but Tseng adjusts his jacket just enough to subtly show off the handgun at his hip. The second soldier clears his throat. "The WRO has temporarily taken over the old Shinra HQ here. You'll find him there, but he's busy. He usually requires an appointment."
"I'm sure he'll make an exception."
HQ still bears the wounds of Weapon's attack, but it's still in relatively good shape. It's busy inside, busier than Tseng can remember it ever being, bustling with members of the WRO chattering and planning and gossiping, most of them with smiles on their faces. That makes all the difference, Tseng can't help but think, as Shinra employees were hardly caught with smiles during work hours.
Reeve has taken up residence in the main office, still decorated with some of Rufus Shinra's more personal things—a small picture of he and Charlotte from a few years ago sits on the wall still, and the shelves still hold pictures of the president with other important figureheads, including his own father.
". . . donated resources are running low," murmurs a man on the other side of the desk, pointing down at what looks to be an inventory list.
Reeve is hunched over, hair longer than usual, tucked behind his ears and shielding much of his face from view. It's almost odd seeing him wearing something so casual and not his typical professional attire, sleeves rolled up and shirt half-untucked, as if he's slept in it.
"It's all right, I'll send a message with our envoy to see if we can't collaborate on this," Reeve tells the man gently, tapping the paper quickly before rolling it up and straightening. He catches Tseng's eye and stiffens, even as the man across from him continues.
"And we should be receiving a new shipment of raw materials from Wutai any day now—"
"Hold that thought," Reeve replies distractedly, holding a hand up and tearing his eyes away from Tseng. The man turns to find him standing in the doorway, looking suddenly very nervous after letting his eyes sweep up and down Tseng. "Forgive me. Can you excuse me for a moment?"
"Yes, Commissioner," the man says, politely bowing out while avoiding eye contact with Tseng.
The moment the door is shut, Reeve sinks back into his chair, sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair. "I hoped I had seen the last of you, or have you come to demand more of my help?" Though his tone is rather irritable and exasperated, the corners of his mouth quirk upwards as he gestures to an empty chair on the other side of the desk.
Tseng lowers himself into the chair, allowing himself to relax a little. "Don't worry, Reeve. This visit is more of a personal one, actually."
Reeve laughs softly to himself. "I assume you've found Rufus, then, if you have the time to be taking vacations to Junon?" He opens a drawer to procure a bottle of scotch and two small glasses. "Has Charlie given you leave for a job well done?"
Smiling tersely, Tseng refuses the alcohol. Reeve puts everything away without pouring for himself. "Charlotte doesn't know I'm here."
"Oh?"
"She's given me the assignment of collecting old Shinra doctors, hoping to make haste on a cure for the disease. I admit, Junon seems rather well off in that regard."
Reeve's face darkens. "There are still plenty of diseased people here," he confesses quietly. "They're just currently quarantined in doctor's offices and not living on the streets."
Tseng clears his throat, holding his hands together in his lap, one leg over the other. "Have you spoken to Charlotte lately?"
"Only earlier this afternoon, but I was busy. I told her I'd call her this evening—" Reeve looks down at his watch, grimacing. "I suppose old habits die hard, however. There aren't enough hours in a day, it seems."
Tseng hums, remembering the watery way Charlotte's eyes had looked when he caught her on the phone before leaving Cliff Resort this morning. "Has she told you anything?"
"No, nothing." Reeve shrugs, as if it's a lost cause. "She didn't really have the time to mention Rufus had been found. Is he well?"
There's a long pause, during which Tseng clears his throat again. "He's sick."
Reeve only blinks at him. Clearly he hadn't been expecting this, but even Tseng is surprised at the amount of genuine concern showing in his face. "He's . . . sick?"
Tseng nods, rubbing at his chin. "The doctor currently treating him says there isn't much time left."
There's another long silence. Reeve considers this, then brings the scotch back out of the desk, pouring two glasses whether Tseng wants to drink or not. Truthfully, he could use the drink, and he doesn't feel that letting his guard down a little with Reeve could do any harm.
Finally, after toasting each other in silence, Reeve takes the scotch in one hard swallow. Tseng does the same, letting the alcohol burn his throat the entire way down.
"You've come all this way to tell me that Rufus is dying?" Reeve asks, coughing into his elbow.
"I've come to extend an invitation to you," Tseng corrects him, not completely unkindly. "I know you're a busy man, but the president has asked for you to take some time away from work. I've come to collect you, and bring you back for a short while."
Reeve grinds his teeth, suddenly looking nervous. "I appreciate you driving down here to update me on the situation, but unlike you, I don't have the time for a vacation."
"It's not about the president," Tseng says a little more forcefully. "It's about Charlie."
"What about her?" Sweat is beginning to bead at his hairline. "She's not sick, is she?"
"No, not in that sense. She's perfectly healthy of the disease, but she is suffering, and her brother is concerned about it." This is it, he thinks to himself, it's time to lay all the cards on the table and hope he's willing to go along with the plan. "You're aware that we've transferred patients from Kalm to our temporary Headquarters?"
"Yes, Veld let me know."
"Charlotte has been caring for them day and night, hardly sleeping. In addition to that, she's been running the company in her brother's stead, which isn't as difficult as it might have been a few months ago. While she's leading quite admirably, it's taken quite the toll on her."
Reeve shakes his head, sighing heavily. "That's what she wanted."
"Perhaps when the company meant something." Tseng leans forward, one elbow upon the desk. "I am loyal to the Shinra company. Both Charlotte and her brother have always been fair to me, and Charlotte is something akin to . . ." He hesitates, shifting uneasily. "She's like a sister to me. But the Shinra name and the Shinra company are not, and will never be, what they were a few months ago. Charlotte has taken on a tremendous burden and feels obligated by duty to continue what's left of her father's legacy."
Reeve considers this, scratching at his patchy beard. "And what will happen to the company without her? If Rufus has little time left, as you say, then the company will crumble once he's gone."
"A bridge we will cross when we get to it."
"What are you trying to say to me, Tseng? You want me to steal her away? You want me to drag her kicking and screaming back to Junon?" He laughs dryly. "She doesn't want to be here. She's made that very clear, and if Rufus is dying, she won't leave willingly."
"No, she won't. I'm not asking for you to steal her away. She is no object meant to be passed around from person to person." Tseng shrugs, finding it difficult to conceal a bitter smile. "I think she still holds a grudge against Veld for doing something similar. She's become rather cold towards him, it seems."
"Or perhaps she's grown up and realized you're all killers."
"She knew that as a child, as well. Our job titles were never hidden from her." Adjusting his tie, the sticky heat seeping into the building, Tseng decides his time here is almost finished. "It would be proper etiquette, as the commissioner of the World Regenesis Organization, to pay your last respects to your former superior, and to speak with the president of Shinra Inc. about the state of the world."
Reeve doesn't look away once in the long few seconds that follow. Tseng can see the gears working in his brain. "Where would you be taking me?"
Tseng smiles sardonically. "You'll find out if you come with me. It's a place you're familiar with, to be sure."
"Two days, no more."
"Two days, no more."
Reeve sighs very heavily. "I assume you'll want to be leaving tonight?"
Tseng chuckles, something he can't remember doing last. "Whenever you're ready."
It's a quiet car ride.
Neither Tseng or himself have much to say to each other, and Reeve is ready to climb into whatever bed is offered to him and go to sleep.
He assumes Tseng is going to take him to a small town or a city, where the Shinra children are hiding in plain sight and close enough to a hospital, but they pass every place he can think of without even slowing down.
It isn't until they're far enough north of Kalm does Reeve come to a realization. "Are we going to Cliff Resort?"
Tseng hums. "Veld didn't tell you?"
"No. He's protective of Charlie as ever."
He's only been to Cliff Resort a few times in his life, always with President Shinra, who enjoyed bringing younger women with him and flaunting them about, always ready to talk business despite everyone else being on vacation. The last time Reeve had been here, he and President Shinra had discussed his relationship with Charlie, and Reeve recalls that moment vividly due to the way President Shinra had spoken about his daughter while drunk on expensive gin.
"She's a beautiful girl, isn't she?" President Shinra had asked, opening his leathery wallet to reveal a picture of her, a photograph of her bust in black-and-white, clearly taken by someone close to her.
She had been around twenty or twenty-one in the picture, her hair pulled back in a braid with loose strands framing her face, blowing slightly in the wind, and sunglasses on the top of her head. The bridge of her nose and cheeks had been spattered with freckles, clearly having been taken during summer, as those freckles always appeared in the constant sunshine. She hadn't been smiling, instead staring into the camera with an almost dead look to her.
Something about it had been unsettling, especially since Reeve was used to her bright smiles and public persona of cheeriness. It had been odd to him that her father carried a picture of her unsmiling face instead of a happier one. He had passed the photograph back to President Shinra after a few seconds of examining it.
"When she was born, I loved to hold her," President Shinra had continued, looking at the photograph for a long time. "Her mother always scolded me for picking her up while she was sleeping in her crib, but I couldn't help myself. Whenever she started to cry or whine, I would hold her and she would just stop."
Reeve hadn't known what to say. It was always a rare occurrence to hear President Shinra speak so fondly of his daughter.
"She used to look at me with such adoration in her eyes." He had held up the picture once more. "And now see how she looks at me, with such hatred and resentment." With a grunt, President Shinra had seemingly returned to his usual self. "I pray the gods don't curse you with a daughter, Reeve. Moody, insatiable, rebellious . . . fathering a daughter is perhaps the hardest job in the world."
Reeve shakes the memory off the closer they get to their destination.
Tseng drives slow up the mountain-side and its hair-pin turns, still in silence. To Reeve's surprise, there are still a few lights on when they reach the front yard, and it's colder here than it is in Junon, though that may change when the sun rises.
There's much more natural noise here, as well. He can hear the crashing of the waterfalls and the chirping of insects, sounds he doesn't hear in Junon, and sounds he never heard in Midgar. In fact, he's still getting used to the quiet, having heard the humming of the reactors for much of his life, every day and every night.
"I must ask you to be quiet," Tseng implores him as they walk up towards the front door. "Charlotte won't be happy if you wake any sleeping patients."
"Do you remember when Veld caught us smoking cigarettes out your bedroom window?"
Charlie smiles weakly, lifting her eyes from Rufus's swollen ribs to meet his own, so similar to her own. "I remember," she says, brushing the pad of her thumb over a yellow bruise before reaching for new bandages. "He was so furious with us."
"It was his own fault," Rufus protests in a raspy voice. "He was the one who left cigarettes all over the house. He smoked like a chimney." He sighs heavily, letting his eyes flutter closed. The smile fades quickly from his face, eyebrows knitted together, and Charlie knows he's in pain.
"Are you all right?" she asks him, keeping a close eye on his face to gauge his pain.
"I don't want to die, Charlie," he confesses, so softly that Charlie isn't certain he's said it at all. "I'm not ready to die."
"Kilmister said that those who have accepted their deaths tend to go much quicker," she tries to assure him, wondering how much comfort that statement actually gives him. "Here, take some medicine for the pain."
Though he seems to be getting stronger, the bruising continues to spread, creeping up his neck and face, encircling his eye, covering the backs of his hands. Almost a quarter of his body seems to be blackened by the disease, which isn't as bad as some of the other patients, but Charlie is still worried about how quickly it's progressing. Some days are worse than others, but regardless of how slowly or quickly it spreads, it never stops.
"Why are you so good to me, Charlie?" Rufus asks, swallowing the stimulant that she pours into his mouth, cringing at the taste.
"You're my brother," she answers in a tone that's far more clipped than she anticipated upon thinking the words.
"When I was in that cave," he continues, allowing Charlie to help put his shirt back on, careful not to mess up any of the bandages or touch the bruising on his skin, "all I could think about was seeing you again. Some days I never thought I would leave that place alive, but when I would think of seeing you, of coming home to you . . ."
Charlie refuses to look him in the face, continuing her work, but still listening.
"I heard your voice before I passed out, right before I became infected. Or, at least, I thought I heard your voice." He lowers his arms when the shirt is pulled down his head and chest. "You gave me hope, Charlie, don't you understand? I fought so hard to stay alive because I wanted nothing more than to see you again."
"Rufus . . ." She sighs loudly, fussing with the blankets.
"Forgive me, please," he begs quietly, beginning to slur his words. The medicine is causing sleep to begin to creep up on him, and Charlie finally feels comfortable enough to look at him again. "I know that I've done horrible things and I know that I've hurt you, but you have to believe that I would never dream of hurting you again."
She purses her lips, but is spared being forced to answer by light knocking on the door.
Rufus nods slightly, and Charlie calls quietly, "Come in."
"Charlotte," comes Tseng's voice. She turns to find the door barely open, and he shuffles rather awkwardly inside, keeping the door cracked. "Forgive my intrusion."
"You're back early. Did everything go all right?" she asks warily, getting slowly to her feet.
"I was forced to take a detour, but Reno and Rude are carrying on for me while I'm absent." Tseng locks eyes with Rufus for a moment, and the two of them exchange a knowing look. Charlie frowns, narrowing her eyes at Tseng. "You've a visitor, Charlotte."
Unable to keep herself from being curious, she answers, "Give them a room and have them wait until morning. It's four o'clock in the morning."
"It's too late. He's already here."
The door is pushed gently open to reveal the visitor, and the breath is knocked out of Charlie immediately at the very sight of him. He's just the same as he had been a few months ago, but not quite—a little shaggier, a little dazed-looking, slump-shouldered as if he's skipped a few long rests, with bags under his eyes, but the familiar small smile still on his face.
"Reeve—" she manages to choke out, looking quickly back to Rufus. There's a smug little grin on her brother's face, and he settles back against his pillows, closing his eyes again. "I—I don't—could I just finish with—"
"It's all right, sister," Rufus rasps, sounding suspiciously worse than he had a few minutes ago, "I was going to go to sleep anyway."
"I didn't mean to intrude," Reeve tells her, sounding almost as nervous as she feels.
"No! No—of course not." Charlie dances on her feet, unsure of where to go or what to do. She presses a soft kiss to her brother's forehead before turning the lamp off, gesturing with her chin towards the medication and used bandages on the nightstand, which Tseng steps forward to take care of. "Here, let me—let's let him sleep for a little, at least. Follow me."
Charlie doesn't know where to lead him in a resort full of sick and dying patients, so she walks him to her bedroom, the only place she's been able to find some semblance of peace these days.
She closes the door behind him, turning the lock before realizing that might make him uncomfortable, and unlocking the door again. With her back against the frame, she asks, "What are you doing here? How did you—did Tseng—?"
Reeve rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his hair growing longer. He looks out the nearest window, peeking through the blinds before turning to face her again. "Tseng came to Junon last night, asking that I come back for a little while. He said Rufus was sick."
"Yes," she answers breathily. "The doctor says it doesn't look good."
"I'm so sorry to hear that. I know it must be difficult for you to hear such cruel news."
Charlie can only nod, wrapping her arms around herself.
Reeve, however, can read her like a book. He steps forward a few paces, looking very sympathetic. "I'm so sorry about cutting our phone call short," he says apologetically, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. "I lost track of time."
"It's all right," she says, scoffing at herself. "I suppose I could have picked up the phone at any time."
He swallows loudly, looking around the room as if concerned it might be bugged, or there might be a Turk hiding under the bed or in a closet. "Why didn't you?"
"I don't know," she replies honestly. "I thought hearing your voice might make me want to . . . leave. And I wasn't ready to leave yet, and then all these patients came and they needed me, and Rufus was missing and now he's dying, and Tseng keeps asking me what I want them to do, but I don't know what they're supposed to be doing now without an actual company to represent and—and—"
Reeve blinks at her. He doesn't seem annoyed by her rambling, but it may simply be the exhaustion. He takes another step, but Charlie can't move away. She's trapped between him and the door, and the closer he gets, the more she wants to cry.
"All of these people are going to die," she continues in a hushed whisper, half-afraid one of the patients might hear her, "including Rufus, and I feel like no one cares except for me."
Another step.
"I thought about you all the time, but I couldn't—I was afraid—"
"Afraid of what?" he asks.
"Afraid of abandoning my post," she confesses, breathing very heavily after giving voice to many of the confessions she's held deep within her heart for the past few months, "afraid of being branded a failure, afraid of bringing you down, afraid of letting everyone else down—"
Charlie holds her face in her hands, blushing furiously as she cries as silently as possible, feeling strong hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. His clothes muffle the crying and his chin is scratchy against the top of her head, but it feels good to be held by someone again.
When was the last time she had been really, truly held by someone? Even with Avalanche, Cid had spared a few nights to throw an arm around her, to wrap her up in his arms when she needed comfort, but it's been incredibly lonely here with no one but sick people and Turks for company.
One of Reeve's hands cradles the back of her head, her hair tangled in his long fingers. When he speaks again, she can feel his lips moving against her hairline. "Why don't you show me to an empty room, and we can speak in the morning after you get some sleep?"
"I'd like that very much."
He chuckles, a laughter that stems from deep within his chest and reverberates against her face, and Charlie allows her eyes to close and her arms to wrap around his middle, clutching to the back of his shirt as if he might disappear.
And for the first time in months, she allows the anxieties and crushing thoughts to be pushed to the back of her mind, just for a little while, just to appreciate and enjoy the moment.