"My . . . father said that?"

He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. He had been afraid of her reaction, half-convinced she wouldn't believe him.

Charlie shakes her head, retracing her arms from around his neck and taking a few steps back. She only stops when the backs of her thighs bump against the foot of their bed. "Then Palmer was lying," she insists, looking far more panicked than he thought she would be. "My father wouldn't do that to me. He said he was going to make me vice president."

"Charlie, you know what your father is," he tells her as gently as he can, moving forward. "Look at what he did to you, what he has done to you."

"And he's just going to let the reactor blow?"

Reeve sighs. "I only know what Palmer was able to tell us—"

"Us?" Charlie asks him sharply, eyes widening. Hadn't he told her he wasn't alone? Should he confess to her that her own brother was probably very disappointed he didn't get the chance to shoot Palmer? "What do you mean? I thought Palmer told you this."

"It took some . . . aggressive convincing—"

She catches on quickly enough. "It was Reno, wasn't it?"

"And your brother."

Charlie looks away from him, clearly distressed. The very sight of her looking so fearful distressed him, not used to seeing her so worked up about something so openly. "Disown me," she repeats quietly. "What does that mean? He's going to take away my money? Fire me?"

He tries to give her a reassuring smile, but he's nervous himself, and he's sure it comes across that way to her. "We'll be fine without your father's money," he tells her, touching her shoulders lightly. "I'll take care of us, don't worry. I have bigger concerns at the moment."

"Like what?" Charlie's eyes are wide. "The reactor? You want to try and stop it?"

"There's no stopping it now," Reeve answers sadly. "Charlie, your father wants to punish someone for Avalanche's disaster, and he wants to punish you for it, but Avalanche isn't going to care." He gives her a little shake, his heart racing again. "They're going to count it as a win and continue on with their plight, and I don't want to risk more bombings or more punishment."

At this, Charlie scoffs, but it's anxious and uncertain. "You think my father would execute me for their crimes?"

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. "I don't know," he lies, hoping that it's the truth. "But I don't want to risk it. I can't let him do that to you."

She shakes her head again, looking far more confident than he feels. "My father would never do that," she says. "He would make a martyr out of me, and he knows it. And Rufus . . . he would never allow my father to do something so heinous. Tseng would never let my father—"

"Tseng?" Reeve interrupts, pulling away from her. "The same man who stood outside your father's office and did nothing while you were being beaten?"

Charlie falters, her cheeks taking on a pinkish hue. "He wouldn't let my father kill me. He's been protecting me since we were teenagers."

"Please listen to me," he continues, hoping to get off the topic before he snaps at the mere memory of the bruises that adorned her back afterwards. "Why don't you get out of the city for a little while? You can take my parents to Kalm. I'll find a place to rent for you, and I'll join you when I can—"

"What?" Charlie retorts, bewildered and angry all at once. "No! I'm not leaving Midgar, and I'm especially not leaving without you!" She scoffs again, struggling to find words. "I'm not just going to run away and leave you behind."

"Charlotte, please. What happens when Avalanche decides reactor bombings aren't enough? What happens if they decide to eliminate Shinra completely? Starting with your father, your brother, and you?"

"No," she replies, and he knows there's no changing her mind, but he still needs to be able to say he tried. "I'm staying here, in Midgar, with you." His disappointment and frustration must show on his face, because Charlie raises a hand to touch his cheek. "I'll be okay. So long as Rufus has the Turks wrapped around his finger, nothing will happen to me."

Reeve runs a hand through his hair, touching her wrist to bring it to his mouth, kissing the soft skin there very gently. "I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"That's a shame," she whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck again, their chests flush together. "I like heroes."

His heart sinks. If there's one thing he will never be, it's a hero.

"It's not funny, Charlie." He reaches behind his neck to unravel her hands, watching her entire face fall, her small and tremulous smile fading quick. "You may not value your life, but I do."

Charlie stiffens, pulling her hands away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can't make me go. If you want me to leave, you'll have to come with me." Thankfully, the corners of her lips quirk upwards again. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. We're in this together now."

He knows that's the truth, not that he'd ever want to be rid of her. He softens at the sight of her lovely smile, embarrassed about the way his mind had jumped to the worst possible scenario, but how could it not? He doesn't really think President Shinra would subject his own daughter to torture, or a public hanging like he wants to do with Avalanche, but a quick and clean break . . . a swift end to it, once and for all . . .

"What are you thinking?" she asks him.

Reeve sighs heavily. There's nothing more he can do. "Why didn't I marry you a long time ago?"

She giggles. "I'd like an answer to that, as well."

He kisses her then, kisses her like it's the last time he'll ever get the chance. She responds eagerly, clinging to him, gripping the front of his shirt, already working on loosening his tie.

When Charlie is able to unbutton most of his shirt, giving her enough leeway to slide her hands across his chest, kissing his throat, she backs away from him, grinning coyly.

"Unzip me," she says, half a command.

His hands move of their own accord, taking hold of her hips and squeezing, smiling when she squirms, laughing softly as his fingertips dig into her skin.

"Charlie . . ." he sighs, very serious and very exasperated. It's all a joke to her. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about me," Charlie replies, slightly irritated. "I can take care of myself. Even if something were to possibly happen, the Turks would save me."

Reeve can't quite understand how she can be so confident and nonchalant about it. Her unwavering faith in the Turks unnerves him—they've always been a shady bunch, and to think of Charlie as a child, being nannied by trained and professional assassins and spies, seems far-fetched, almost laughable.

To be sure, she's known them for years, even longer than he's known Charlie. Tseng is comfortable enough around her to call her by her first name, Reno is insolent and known to overstep, and both Rude and Charlie are prone to quiet gossip. There had been a young girl that Charlie had liked, too, who sometimes went with her to the training rooms to watch some SOLDIERs put on a show.

But imagining the Turks—imagining Tseng—defecting from President Shinra for the sake of Charlie's life . . .

Perhaps he's just overthinking. It wouldn't be the first time. With everything going on due to the destruction of the first reactor, and subtle preparation for the damage Reeve knows will come tomorrow, he's hardly slept, hardly eaten, and the memories of that night come creeping back whenever he closes his eyes for a second.

The loud ringing of his phone brings him out of his reverie. His hands are still on her hips, and when he answers his phone, Charlie slips a hand under his shirt again, watching him.

It's only a call from his assistant, reminding him of a meeting he has in fifteen minutes. Has it been that long already?

"I have to go," he tells her, buttoning up his shirt again reluctantly, frowning at her mumbled protests. "I'll probably be late tonight." Reeve lifts his eyes from his buttons to her face to gauge her reaction. It's one of disappointment, but he had been expecting that.

"How late?" she asks.

He pauses, knowing that, even if he tries to leave early, something will force him back. "I'll try to leave no later than nine." It's a half-hearted promise.

"Okay."

"I'll make it up to you tonight."

Charlie smiles knowingly. "Okay."

Disown her?

The idea is terrifying, truthfully.

Who is she without the Shinra Electric Power Company behind her? Without money to give away, she is no longer generous and kind and compassionate. Without a job to do, she is no longer comforting and reassuring and professional. Without her father's support, she is nothing, just a girl who likes to make jokes and rebel against her family's reputation without thinking of the consequences.

And to think, Reeve thought he might convince her to escape to Kalm, to wait for him in a rented house with his parents, knowing that he might never leave the city. Despite all of his talk regarding the shortcomings of Midgar, she knows that Reeve is fond of the city, and would likely never leave if given the choice.

Besides, she isn't going to wait for anyone any longer.

She had waited years for her mother to return before accepting that she was gone forever. She used to think that, one day, her mother might turn up on the steps of their family home and things would go back to the way they were, when her parents still loved each other.

She waited years for Veld to return, as well, to call her "little princess" one more time in his gruff voice, remembering days spent as a little girl, curled up in his lap to sleep against his chest while he did work at a desk in the basement of President Shinra's beach house.

She remembers all those nights she had waited for President Shinra to come home to her and Rufus after a long business trip, remembers waiting for Reeve to come home from surveying trips, remembers waiting for Rufus to sneak back into their home after spending the night with his little pup on the beach in the dead of night.

She remembers a dark-haired SOLDIER, promising he'd be back before she knew it, but he had never returned either. Instead, Tseng had come to her with a solemn message, spending half the night with her to offer Charlie all the comfort he had been able to give her. Comfort, but no answers.

". . . reached the office of Charlotte Shinra, Director of Communications at Shinra Electric Power Company . . ."

Charlie huffs, taking the front stairs two at a time. "Come on, Pia, answer the damn phone."

She hangs up and tries again.

". . . please leave your full name, ID number, and a phone number so we can reach you . . ."

She pushes her way past several low-level employees to board the elevator first, tapping the number 59 rapidly as everyone looks on, annoyed.

When she finally makes it to her office, it's to find Pia not at the desk. A red light blinks continuously on the phone, indicating several missed calls and voicemails. One of her desk drawers is cracked, but nothing else seems out of place.

When she enters her office, it's to find Reno sitting behind her desk, hands behind his head and his feet propped up on the desktop.

Charlie puts her hands on her hips, glaring at him as he smiles sweetly, too innocently. "Where's my assistant?" she snaps.

Reno sits up, his feet coming to rest on the floor with a thump! "Probably in a cell," he answers casually, getting to his feet. "Your lovely, young assistant has been arrested."

Charlie's jaw clenches. "On what grounds?"

"Conspiring with Avalanche, of course."

"I demand to see her," she continues, huffing impatiently and making Reno smile wider. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"You don't have to pretend, Charlie." Reno clicks his tongue, approaching her with his shirt partially unbuttoned and his hair a disheveled mess. He throws an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his body. "She already admitted it."

Charlie feels her heart sink. "What? What did you do to her?"

"Look," Reno says again, ignoring her question completely. With his arm still around her shoulders, he leads her to the small window that overlooks the dark and unfinished part of the city that is Sector Six. "We're friends, aren't we, Charlie?"

"Some days, yes, I suppose we're sort of friends."

He rubs at the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "All right," he sighs. "We're like family, then, aren't we? You may hate me most of the time, but I know that, deep down, you have a soft spot for us Turks."

Charlie thinks for a moment. "That sounds about right."

"So, if you have anything to confess to, you can see why confessing to me would be a good idea."

"So you can throw me in a cell with Pia on some false confession?" Charlie scoffs, removing Reno's arm from around her shoulders. "I don't think so."

"Is that what you think of me?" Reno scoffs teasingly, splaying his hand over his freshly broken heart. "It wasn't me that arrested her, if you must know. It was Heidegger."

"And how did he know to arrest her?"

"Hey, I've gotta keep some secrets of my own, y'know." He leans closer to her, having too much fun. "Charlie, you know that any secret you confide in me is locked in the safe forever."

"No secret of mine is safe from Rufus if I spill to you. Besides, I have nothing to confess," she hisses. "I want to talk to Pia."

Reno smiles again. "Don't worry, princess. Rude and I will handle that."

"Pia, I need you to tell me exactly what you told Heidegger."

Pia trembles from the other side of the square table, the single lamp illuminating the damage that's been done to her. Both of her eyes are bruised, and her hair is greasy and tangled and falling on either side of her face, looking like it's been a week since she last showered. Charlie is afraid to know what the rest of her body looks like.

"I'm sorry, Miss Shinra, I'm so sorry—"

"It's all right, Pia," Charlie insists, reaching across to hold Pia's badly shaking hand. She doesn't pull away, instead squeezing as hard as she can, lacing their fingers together. "Please, I need you to tell me what you told them. I need to know."

Tears slip down Pia's cheeks. "Is he watching?" she whispers.

"No," Charlie answers, knowing exactly who Pia is talking about. She glances to the side mirror, where she knows someone is watching from behind it, but it's certainly not Heidegger. "Reno and Rude are, though. It's all right, Pia. We're not going to hurt you."

"I told them about the bombing tomorrow," Pia explains tearfully, in a voice that breaks Charlie's heart. "I told them that Avalanche was going to take out reactor number five, but that's it, I swear it."

"I believe you," Charlie whispers. "Did any of the Turks hurt you?"

"No, ma'am. They never laid a finger on me."

"Good. Listen, Pia, my father is going to let them go through with the bombing. They're going to be walking themselves right into a trap."

Pia's eyes widen, but her lips stay stuck together. It frustrates Charlie, and she doesn't want to say too much that might give both Reno and Rude the idea that Charlie knows too much. It seems that Pia understands, hesitant to say anymore, however, with others listening in and watching.

Reno's voice comes in over the speaker above them. "We gotta go, Charlie. We can't sit here all day."

Charlie hesitates. She doesn't think Pia would lie about it. If Pia had confessed that Charlie had been the one to build the recent bomb, surely she would have been thrown in a cell already. "I'll come back for you," she promises her assistant, who continues to cry into her hands, bruised and bleeding all over. "I won't let them keep you here, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm so sorry, Pia—"

"It's okay."

Charlie doesn't think it's okay at all, but she doesn't have time to argue.

Reno ushers her from the small, windowless room while Rude hurries Pia back to her cell, muttering something about deleting footage while Reno "yeah yeah yeah"'s him.

Before Charlie and Reno go their separate ways—she with much to think about—she stops him. They linger outside the glass elevator, and Charlie sighs. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

She smiles weakly at him. "If my father tried to kill me, would you let him?"

He laughs. "What is this? Some kind of test or somethin'?" Reno folds his arms over his chest, covering much of his exposed skin. "What happens if I give the wrong answer?"

"Just answer the question, would you?"

Reno scoffs loudly, dramatically. "I'm insulted that you think you even need to ask. And here I thought we were friends."

"What about Rude?"

"C'mon, Charlie, be serious. And that's comin' from me."

"Fine. Would Tseng let my father execute me?"

Reno falters, whatever answer he had suddenly dying on the tip of his tongue. "What is this?" he asks her again, sounding thoroughly annoyed this time, like a big brother tired of his kid sister. "What are you asking me for? If you wanna know so bad, just go ask Tseng yourself."

"I just thought I'd get your opinion."

"Yeah? When has my opinion ever meant shit to you?" he asks, mocking. Charlie's pout is able to coerce a smile back onto his face. "How long've you known Tseng anyway?"

"I don't really know. It's been so long," she answers honestly. "Since we were teenagers, at least."

Reno chuckles, holding up a hand in farewell as he takes a step back from her. "Even I don't think Tseng is that heartless."

Charlie watches him go, her heart heavy with guilt, and she can almost hear her father's words, nudging at the back of her head.

Tseng's a good and loyal boy, but he's not Rufus's friend. He's a Shinra employee.

She's spent half her life complaining about the Turks, one of the only constants in her life. As little as she trusts some of them (though most of them are gone now, many of them disappearing under mysterious circumstances), the Turks who are left have been part of her life for years, long enough for Charlie to consider them almost family. The dark suits they wear are almost a comforting sight to her now.

She shouldn't trust them, but she needs to. As annoying as they can be, meddling in nearly every affair of hers, she has to trust that they'll protect her, that Rufus will order them to protect her, if it does come down to it.

She had to have been around fourteen when she first met Tseng, and he no older than eighteen or nineteen at the most.

He hasn't changed much since that time. His hair has gotten longer and his face has thinned out, he's a little less soft-spoken, and he's certainly grown into his position as leader of the Turks.

Charlie watches him from over the top of her magazine, a magazine that she hasn't really been reading at all, too busy thinking. If he notices her watching or wishes her to leave him alone, he says nothing, continuing his work in the low-lit office of the Turks, which is currently empty save for the two of them.

She's only here to hide from everyone who might need her. No one will ever walk into the Turks' own space just to ask her some stupid question that Pia could answer for her (though with Pia in a cell right now, it's rather annoying to do all that work by herself).

He's her favorite, enigmatic though he can be. He's not so serious that he can't be cracked, and teenage-Charlie had taken great pleasure in trying to make him smile and laugh, always feeling victorious upon seeing him bear his teeth in a small smile, laughing at her ridiculous antics when it became too much.

"You either have something you're dying to tell me," he says suddenly, startling her, "or there is something on my face."

Charlie smiles behind her magazine, his eyes never leaving his work. "How does it feel, as the leader of the Turks, to be reduced to babysitting duty half the time?"

At this, he lifts his eyes, almost looking amused. "Babysitting duty, in regards to you, Charlotte, is far more exciting than you might believe. I'm not going to complain of my duties."

"If it's any consolation, I think you've done an excellent job. I'm still alive, anyway."

Tseng gives her a small smile before lowering his pen to his paperwork again.

"You wouldn't call Rufus by his first name, would you?" Charlie asks him, watching his pen hesitate before signing his name. "Not to his face, at least."

He looks at her for a moment, expression betraying nothing. For all the years she's known him, he's still impossible to read unless he wants to be read, which isn't as often as one might think. And as for him calling her 'Charlotte', it's been so long that she can't really remember when that started happening, though she suspects it happened around the same time that Tseng had delivered news about her SOLDIER. That was the first time he had comforted her as a friend, or as close to a friend as he could get.

There are two reasons Charlie can think of as to why Tseng might refer to Rufus as 'sir' all the time, never thinking it appropriate to act friendly with her brother. Tseng either respects Rufus too much, or is frightened of him. The idea of him not respecting Charlie enough or not being frightened of her is . . . disheartening.

"Forgive me," he tells her, stiffening in his chair. "Miss Shinra."

"No," she replies heatedly, blushing. The name sounds foreign coming from him and she immediately despises it. "You don't . . . I don't like that. Not from you."

"Very well."

"Can I pitch you a hypothetical situation?"

"Does this have anything to do with the loyalty test you gave Reno earlier today?"

Charlie traces her tongue with her teeth. If Reno were here to smile smugly at her, she might be annoyed, but it's difficult to be annoyed with Tseng, especially after all he's done for her. "Have you always been this insolent, Tseng?"

He smiles again, hardly abashed. "Would you call it insolence?"

She smiles wide, happy to have cracked him. "Well? I'm sure Reno prepped you. Have you studied for my test, Tseng?"

"And this is purely hypothetical, is it?"

"Unless you're privy to information that I'm not, then yes, it's all hypothetical."

"I think I'm privy to a great deal of information that you're unaware of," he replies, scribbling his name on another piece of paper, setting it aside, and then setting his pen down beside it. "In your hypothetical situation, is your execution warranted?"

Charlie shakes her head. "I want to know what you think I could possibly do to warrant being executed by my own father."

"I wouldn't pretend to understand the motives of the president." Tseng tucks some of his dark hair behind one of his ears, extending and curling the long fingers on his right hand to stretch them after writing for so long. "I would not be too concerned, if I were you. Your brother has taken extraordinary measures to keep you safe."

"You didn't answer the question."

"That's the answer I'd like to give, and it's a better answer than Reno gave you earlier, I think."

Charlie doesn't press him, instead lifting the magazine to her eyes again, trying to read the article in front of her face, but her eyes trace over the same line again and again and again, listening to the scratching of Tseng's pen against paper.

There's nothing that can be done.

President Shinra is going to let them blow the reactor to make a statement.

Charlie and Reeve watch the live broadcast from his office, curled up together on the leather sofa, her back resting against his chest as she clings to his hand with painful strength. Her face is bloodless and white as a sheet, her hands trembling and the rapid beating of her heart almost audible (though that very well could just be his own heart).

President Shinra has long since cut the audio, but everyone else in Midgar is likely watching the three eco-terrorists infiltrate the reactor, cutting down innocent workers and fresh recruits being used as low-level security (he wishes Charlie would look away, but knows that she won't), destroying Shinra's (Scarlet's) prized technology and seemingly oblivious to the whole city watching them.

There are three of them that make their way into mako reactor five, only one of them fleetingly familiar, the same young woman who had allowed him and Charlie use of her bar in the Sector Seven slums when they were still in the planning stages of construction.

With her is a big man with a gun for an arm (he has so many questions about this that will likely go unanswered forever) and another young man with a sword on his back that, surprisingly, Charlie seems to recognize.

After it being completely silent between them for nearly fifteen minutes, Charlie lifts a finger to point at the television screen when the yellow-haired boy pulls the sword off his back, the cameras catching a clean shot of it as he swipes at some robotics that catch them off guard.

"That's Angeal's sword," she says, so sure of herself, almost sounding offended. "He has Angeal's sword."

"You would know better than I," he murmurs in return, not having meant to sound so bitter about it.

Truthfully, Reeve doesn't really recognize the sword as anything special. He knows little enough about weapons to properly admire it, and while Charlie probably knows less, if she says it's Angeal's sword, then he believes her.

Her perfect SOLDIER, her dark-haired hero—a failed and doomed romance that had consisted of shy smiles, an increase of her time spent near the training rooms, hushed conversations when they passed each other in the hallways or in the recreation room or cafeteria, never lasting more than a minute. Even with the mighty war-hero Sephiroth at his side, Charlie never had eyes for anyone else.

He had been sent to Wutai at the first sign of something real brewing between them, never to return home to Midgar, much to Reeve's pleasure. It only serves to make him feel guilty, however, remembering how many tears she had shed over her little hero while he was parading about with that slum girl in a petty and childish attempt to make her jealous and relieve many of his frustrations.

"Why does he have that sword?" Charlie asks impatiently, as if expecting the boy on screen to give her an answer. When no one is able to answer her, she settles into a brooding silence again.

The closer the three Avalanche members get to the core of the reactor, the more he begins to panic, glancing out his window every few seconds to see if it's blown already, to see if the broadcast is slightly behind. The reactor stands tall, a few helicopters circling it at a relatively safe distance, shining spotlights down at the base of it.

Part of him worries that the explosion will be worse, bigger, than many more casualties will be inflicted in Avalanche's plight for peace, destroying everything and everyone in their way to create a world they've only ever dreamed of. Don't they realize what they're doing? Don't they understand how many lives are at stake? Don't they realize that Shinra Inc., while shady and ultimately a power-hungry corporation, takes care of the people by providing them with necessary services and a level of comfort not found in any other place around the world?

"Director Tuesti?" comes the nervous and quavering voice of his assistant.

He hadn't even heard her knock or open the door (if she even did either of those things), and her dull eyes travel the length of Charlie's body before continuing, legs spread out on the sofa, tangled up in his arms, not even paying attention to the woman in the door.

"What is it?" Reeve asks, fixing his eyes upon the television screen again, the three freedom fighters coming dangerously close to the core now.

"The President wishes to see you, sir. It's about the reactor."

Charlie moves quickly, sitting up and turning around to look at him with wide, sad eyes. Reeve smiles at her. "Very well," he answers, not bothering to look again at his assistant when Charlie's face looms so close to his own. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Yes, sir. Very good."

When the door to his office closes again, he takes Charlie's face in his hands, her hairline shimmering with cold and nervous sweat, chest rising and falling underneath her blouse, tilted forward enough to allow him a gratuitous (but appreciative) sight down the front of her shirt.

"You have to leave," he whispers raggedly, earning himself Charlotte's full attention. "Charlotte, I can't bear it—"

"It's too late for me to run away," she insists. They had argued all of last night about it, as well. "I'm staying, if you are."

"Charlie, please." He brushes his thumbs across her cheekbones, looking at her for a long time. "You can't possibly read that speech. You can't possibly claim responsibility for this. The entire city is watching the people who are really responsible."

"I'm not going to," she replies. "Don't worry about me. I'll handle my father. Don't keep him waiting."

He's displeased, but it's the best he's going to get from her.

Reeve kisses her, feeling her lips curl into a smile against his own.

It almost feels like he's walking right to his death when he makes his way up to the topmost floor, where he'll likely be forced to witness the destruction of another one of his reactors. He regrets leaving Charlie alone, wishing he'd had the hindsight to station a Turk outside his office door, or at least called her brother to explain his misgivings.

Even if Rufus dislikes him, he wouldn't be able to ignore his concerns about Charlie.

He inhales deeply outside the President's office, taking a moment to gather himself before stepping inside.