Pulling off Butterfly Wings

By

Artistic Suicide

AN: Yeah yeah, nothing belongs to me except the plot (although I would't mind owning Reeve ), which I'm trying to move somewhere, although where I don't know. Ah well, please read and, hopefully, enjoy.

Chapter Four

Vivienne was dead….

"Vivienne, don't you dare walk away or you're dead, dead, you hear me?"

She cried herself to sleep most nights but now…

"Is Scarlet your real name?"

Maybe someday soon she'd be able to dream again…

She kicked aside the blankets, welcoming the cold, never wanting to get burnt again.

Reeve looked at the reflection in the mirror.

Unfortunately, it was his.

He winced as he applied alcohol to the split lip, knowing that Genevieve would overwhelm him with her mind-numbing concern if she saw it the next day. He smiled. She was sweet, he admitted but she just lacked some inner fire, the determination to keep at something no matter what, the ability to stand up for what she believed in. She'd never suffered, that was for sure and although there were only a couply of years between them, she was a child to him.

He walked into the living room and sat in front of the fire, appreciating its warmth, chuckling as Cait Sith sprang to his feet, snarling everytime a spark landed in his dark fur.

Running a hand through his hair, Reeve considered the meeting with Scarlet. He'd been surprised but he'd had fun. She was so nice when she acted like a human being. He knew that she had suffered to, he'd heard it in her voice –

"Don't call me Vivienne…"

had seen in in her eyes as she'd left the restaurant the previous day. He knew that no matter how phony she acted with her victims/suitors, her passion was very real. He glanced over at the coffee table in the centre of the room where the blueprints and security tape copies lay ready for her. He'd already watched it, seen the young blonde man with the ice-cold eyes, so similar to hers. His passion was real too. The heavily-built, dark skinned man, the sweet young mechanic, the young man called Biggs, the little chubby side-kick. How could he hate these people, so fueled by belief, so filled with courage? They'd blown up his reactor, sure…they'd killed but…hadn't he? Every time his machines sucked energy from the earth, wasn't he killing a being more powerful than any human? He was killing the planet for Holy's sake. No, he couldn't hate these young rebels…

"It's about time," snapped Scarlet as she snatched the security videos from his hands. There were dark shadows under her eyes, only slightly concealed with make-up. Reeve was not feeling too cheerful that morning either as he tried to ignore his throbbing lip and even more splitting headache, a result of too much thinking and too little sleep.

"Holy, who shoved a stick up your ass this morning?" he muttered irratibly, shocked at his own daring. Surely he wasn't supposed to insult the Higher-Ups?

I wonder if I can still pay the mortgage on my apartment after she fires me, he mused. He noticed that for some strange reason she was smiling at him.

"I notice that neither of us are morning people," she sighed, her smile diminishing slightly as she ran her hand through her hair, noticing for the first time that morning that she hadn't pinned it up.

What's happening to me?

"Well…I look through these, thank you and we'd better speak to the president at some point and see if he intends to rebuild it. By the way, why are you here so early? You should only be starting at eight in the morning. It's only six," she frowned, his more than anal work ethics bothering her slightly. He sighed.

"I'm going to the gym. I stopped here to make sure you got the videos. Anyway, wish me luck, I may not return."

Scarlet waggled her fingers slightly and strode off, hips swaying by habit. Reeve shook his head, deciding that she was more moody than a pregnant chocobo before exiting the building to go to hell, otherwise known as the Shinra Employees Health Centre.

He proceeded to enter the changing rooms and strip, avoiding any glances cast in his direction. Slipping on a white shirt he contemplated setting a match to the building. He couldn't believe that President Shinra could heavily tax the vast number of "adult fun houses" and yet sponsor a business, even "strongly encourage" employees to go there at least twice a week, that forced its clients to strip naked in front of each other in the change rooms.

He set to work, beginning with the punching bag that dangled innocently in front of him.

Slap

His hand swiped towards the top of the punching bag, a move that would have snapped a normal man's neck.

Hmmm…Heidegger's neck…

Thud

His foot sent the bag flying.

Thud

Bloody Heidegger and his -

Thud

bloody big bloody mouth and

Thud

­­bloody, bloody Heidegger

"You seem to have a serious grudge against that punching bag," said a voice. Reeve looked up, startled when he saw the man in front of him. A tall, lean form, dark hair, almond eyes and the stalk of a predator.

Tseng.

Reeve managed to bow slightly, obedient to protocol.

"Sir."

"Don't call me that. We're in a gym, for Holy's sake," said the Wutain man, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "That's good fighting, Mr. Secretary. Where did you learn?"

"Trained for Turks, a while back," panted Reeve, wiping a hand across his damp forehead. He saw Tseng's elegant eyebrow shoot up. "Only for a year or so. Never really made it."

"Might I ask why?" the Turk enquired. Reeve grinned slightly.

"Two reasons: A slight disdain for killing and two: Heidegger."

Tseng nodded. The larger man's distaste for Reeve was known throughout the Shinra building. "I understand. He disliked you even then?"

"From the moment I arrived, pompous bastard-"

"You are aware, of course, that you are insulting my boss?" asked Tseng, his voice dangerous. Reeve nodded, his damp, dark hair falling across his face.

"Yes, and you can tell him if you wish," he replied, his eyes glinting mischievously, already knowing the other man's reply.

"Don't worry, I don't intent to tell that arrogant shithead anything," he grinned, causing Reeve to laugh out loud, surprised at Tseng's language. Tseng laughed too, his dark aura fading a little as his smile grew. "I must be spending too much time with Reno," he continued. He glanced at his watch and decided that it was time he got his workout done too, leaving Reeve to gaze contemplatively at the punching bag, not hating it as much as he had a few minutes ago.

"As for Heidegger, the incompetent worm," he muttered, reluctantly returning to the changing rooms.

"Reeve, you looked flushed," observed Scarlet as he entered the President's office, out of breath due to sprinting through the building, knowing how late he was. He noticed that she'd done her hair, reapplied her make-up and, judging from the faint smell of alcohol that wafted towards him, tried to readjust her attitude. The smell, although not unpleasant, still made him feel sick.

It was two in the morning and they were coming home-

Sitting on the staircase, clutching the rails, watching the door opening-

Arrogant little fuck, think you're too good for me, huh? Waiting up for your mother? Well, she's still at the whorehouse, now get me a beer!

Large hands dragging him down the staircase by his hair, blood running down his forehead.

"I was worried that I'd be late," he answered, gagging slightly, raising a hand to his forehead. He was late, he knew, it was just that President Shinra happened to think of appointments as optional.

The door slid open and, as if on cue, the President entered, dressed in his usual red suit.

Speak of the devil…

The large man sat down in his chair and looked at the two individuals standing in front of him, one as bright and teasing as a flame, the other an untouchable icicle, cool and hard at first sight. In his more lucid moments he often wondered which one would destroy its opposite first.

"What's this all about then?" he asked. Reeve's back straightened as he unconsciously tried to look professional.

"We wanted to discuss the rebuilding of the destroyed Mako reactor, sir," he answered, producing a thick wad of papers that he'd prepared the previous night.

"We're not going to build it," the President's voice said just as Reeve answered, "I have some plans-"

The Secretary of Urban Development's jaw dropped open in disbelief.

"But sir-"

"Neo Midgar beckons, Reeve. I can't afford to waste money on rebuilding a reactor."

"But the entire Sector will have no power, no heating-"

"That is very unfortunate but there's nothing I can do," the President answered with a condescendingly sympathetic smile. "I'm sure they'll understand and if they don't…well…they're only a few statistics, aren't they?" his laughter sounded throughout the office, sickening Reeve. "Besides, aren't most of them dead anyway? We'll just let the rest of them die, which shouldn't take long. Problem solved."

"We aren't even going to send food down to the survivors?" cried Reeve, his dark eyes furious. "Sir…please, these people need help! I, they-"

"Dismissed, Mr. Mantegna, Scarlet – you can leave too. I have other business to attend to."

Like Don Corneo's Escort Service downtown, thought Reeve, fuming as he turned to leave. The President snapped his fingers as he looked at Scarlet.

"Scarlet, have you read the paper this morning?" he asked. The young woman shook her head, puzzled. Shinra handed his copy over to her. "You might find this interesting."

They both left the office, Reeve muttering under his breath, Scarlet scanning the front page of the Midgar Times until she came to the bold title:

Serial Rapist Released! Court Decision – Innocent!

Reeve stopped when he heard the scrunch of the newspaper being crumpled up and Scarlet striding quickly in front of him, white faced and silent.

He shook his head, deciding that it wasn't his business. He thought of all the people who were going to die at the hands of Shinra.

"This isn't happening," he muttered.

Scarlet looked up from the toilet in the employees bathroom with nothing left in her to throw up any more. Standing in front of the mirror, she started at her grey face, the shadows that had sprung unbidden to lie under her bright, dry eyes.

"This can't be happening," she whispered, no replies answering her desperate plea.

AN: Well, this was, I think, my longest chapter so far. Yay! Thank you so much to all the reviewers, you've inspired me to come out of my writers block. Well, just click the little button below and see what happens