Tseng sets a brutal pace, clearing the jungle path ahead of Charlie and Elena, all while wearing a suit.
It takes her all her strength to keep up, not wanting to fall behind and make herself look incapable. While she walks side-by-side with Elena, neither of them speak, too busy panting and focusing on the ground to think straight. The path is treacherous, and full of sinkholes and quicksand and monsters that are easily put down with a few bullets, but the further into the jungle they get, the less monsters appear.
The Temple of the Ancients turns out to be a thousands-year-old step-pyramid that looms over the jungles of the island it rests upon like the Shinra Building over Midgar. And the closer they get, the more Charlie begins to think they shouldn't be here.
Sometimes she thinks the jungle has a mind of its own. Several times she gets stuck on roots she swears weren't there before, and every puddle is far deeper than it looks. Branches feel like fingers on her shoulders and it feels like eyes are everywhere through the trees, like someone is watching their progress.
Sometimes Charlie thinks she feels a cool breeze touch upon her face, but the leaves never move, and it sounds like someone is whispering in her ear before the relief fades, and she's left to suffocate in the heat again.
None of them know if Sephiroth is here, though Tseng had been convinced that the world would know if Sephiroth already managed to get his hands on the Black Materia. Besides, they have the Keystone. Charlie has to agree with that logic, but it still makes her nervous, even more so as the trees begin to thin. That's when she begins to feel the change in the air, sending chills down her spine.
"Listen," Tseng says at one point, holding up a hand to stop both her and Elena.
Charlie listens hard, but there's nothing to hear but her thumping heart. "It's too quiet," she whispers, and Tseng nods.
There are no chirping birds or rustling leaves or buzzing insects. The only sounds are made by their own movement and voices, their heavy breathing.
Elena and Charlie exchange a sideways look, and follow after him as he begins cutting through the brush again. Charlie's arms are cut up and stinging from getting caught on thorns and brambles, and her face is sunburnt, but she can't complain because she had snapped at Tseng when he chided her to put some on back at the helicopter.
He had even made her take her diamond earrings out, the ones that Reeve had bought for her a few years ago. Charlie did as she was bid, because it was very likely they would get caught on something during their excursion, but she made sure it was known she wasn't happy about it.
"You don't think we're walking into a trap, do you?" Elena asks as they get ever closer.
Charlie lifts her eyes to look at the back of Tseng's head expectantly.
"I won't say I hadn't already considered it," he answers, cutting through a thicket of branches. "Be alert. I don't know what we'll find inside."
"Even if Sephiroth is in there, I don't think bullets will do much," Charlie says to his back. "I watched him phase right through a floor, you know."
"What?" Elena gasps. "He can do that?"
"I mean, how can we even be sure that it's really Sephiroth in the first place?" Charlie continues, trying to remember all she can about the night he had killed her father. "The Sephiroth that I knew was far more human than whatever murdered my father. He was supposed to be dead, and all of a sudden, he comes back and can phase through floors and travel unnaturally quickly across the planet?"
Tseng stops abruptly, lowering the axe in his hand and turning around to look at Charlie, his eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you say that?"
"Well, I mean . . . you know I spent a lot of time in the training center, and I've never seen Sephiroth do anything like that."
"Who is it that you suppose we're chasing, if not Sephiroth?"
"I don't know," she retorts quickly, blushing, feeling very on the spot. "I'm just saying what I think. You don't have to listen if you don't want to."
He looks at her warily for a moment, but eventually turns back around and returns to his work, waving his axe around to cut a path for them. "I'm beginning to regret my decision." After a moment, he adds, "Bringing you along, Charlotte."
"I can handle myself," she reminds him.
"That remains to be seen. I have yet to see you fire your gun."
"How hard can it be?"
"I would rather avoid a repeat of Wutai," Tseng says firmly, and though he expresses doubts, he continues on. Perhaps he realizes now that turning back would be pointless and a complete waste of time. "And if Sephiroth has a personal vendetta against the Shinra company, that's reason enough to believe he will not care whether or not his old friend had feelings for you."
"I have two Turks to protect me," Charlie replies, flashing him a reassuring smile when he looks over his shoulder at her. "Besides, I have to see it with my own eyes, the thing my father sought for more than half his life. Look how easy it was to find when Turks were assigned to the job."
"Is that a compliment?" Tseng asks.
"A general observation, nothing more."
Despite her rattling nerves, Charlie is excited for what comes ahead. It feels like a proper adventure—uncharted land, a dense jungle hike, adrenaline surging through her with every step she takes.
After another half hour, Charlie begins to slow down. She falls behind Tseng a good distance, who continues their journey without complaint. Elena doesn't let her alone, but Charlie is glad for the company, and glad that Elena doesn't leave her behind, until—
"So . . . you and Tseng are pretty close, huh?"
"It's complicated," she answers, remembering the awkward and gangly girl she had been back then, taking pleasure in making Veld's rookie Turk squirm. "But I didn't have sex with him last night, if that's what you wanted to ask me in the first place."
Elena's face turns bright red and she clears her throat, looking anywhere else but at Charlie or at the man in front of them. "I wasn't going to ask that."
"You were thinking it."
Charlie steals a sideways look at Elena, chewing on her bottom lip. She's a pretty enough girl, if not a little young, clumsy, and overexcited. Truthfully, she doesn't think Tseng is foolish enough to pursue anything with a subordinate, but she knows him, and she knows he's prone to emotional attachment in regards to people he definitely shouldn't be attached to.
Case in point: Veld and herself.
She feels sorry about it now, but there had been times in the past where Charlie had taken it upon herself to chase away women who looked a little too long at him, who spoke a little too much to him, who disclosed designs on the young Turk.
It's not that she wanted him for herself exactly, but the thought of losing him to another woman had been a painful thought. It all reminds her horribly of something Rufus might do, but she doesn't feel so bad about it. Charlie knows that Tseng had chased off men involved in her own life, and the cycle will continue until they're both able to move beyond Veld, beyond that loss.
Charlie inhales deeply, speeding up to walk beside Tseng. "Stay behind me," is the only thing he says, pushing forward as the temple comes clearly into view.
The only thing left that prevents their entry is a wooden bridge that makes Charlie weak in the knees. She curls her hand into a fist, remembering the way her hand had felt in Cid's, and the confident yet careful way he had escorted her across another bridge.
"I'll go first," Tseng announces, dropping the small axe into the bag on Elena's shoulders. He pulls his gun out and insists that Elena and Charlie do the same, as there might be a surprise waiting for them the moment they set foot within. "Charlotte, follow me, and stay close."
Not wanting to seem weak, Charlie follows Tseng with her gun in her trembling right hand, craning her head back to admire the stonework. There's a crumbling archway on the opposite side of the bridge that she crosses under, and crossing it makes her shiver uncontrollably.
When she meets Tseng's eyes, it seems as if he's felt something more of the same. "We shouldn't be here," she tells him, waiting for Elena to finish crossing. "Don't you feel it?"
"We can't turn back now."
Up a long flight of steps, and Charlie finds herself standing at the entrance to the temple proper. It's dark inside, but when Tseng crosses the threshold, two torches suddenly spring to life, revealing the interior to them.
"That's ominous," Elena says, taking a look around.
Several thick columns still stand in good shape, keeping the roof from caving in. There are faded murals on the walls, and a bronze sculpture mounted upon the furthest wall, in between the torches. In the very middle of the small room, cast in orange light, is a pedestal resting upon a square dais.
Tseng creeps closer to the dais, extending a hand out towards Charlie and Elena. "Elena, the Keystone."
Elena digs around in the bag for a moment before retrieving it. The Keystone seems to glow a little brighter than it looked to be last night, when Charlie had been admiring it in bed. Perhaps it senses the temple, or the magic that surrounds it. As it passes from Elena's hand to Tseng's, Charlie can't help the fluttering of her heart, the anticipation making her dizzy.
He walks right up to the pedestal, unafraid. Charlie and Elena follow him onto the dais, looking down at the several holes carved into the top of the pedestal, holes of different sizes. It's easy enough to fit the Keystone into the largest one, where it glows bright for a moment and seems to melt, spreading throughout the other holes like a river.
Something beneath Charlie's feet shifts and she gasps, catching Tseng's attention. Before he's able to turn around, she's pulled down by some invisible force, phasing through the dais as Sephiroth had phased through the floor of her father's office.
When she blinks, her surroundings have changed dramatically and she's still being lowered to solid ground again, with Tseng and Elena on either side of her. They are no longer in the small and cramped room with the torches, but in a place that seems to go sprawling on infinitely in all directions.
There's no ceiling above her, but she wouldn't go so far as to call it a sky, either. Whatever it is is gray, giving them enough light to see clearly. Staircases are everywhere, leading to other staircases and into rooms, everything carved from stone. A few vines have begun to grow up walls and on the sides of the stairs, but there is nothing else for miles.
"We can't let ourselves get separated," Tseng says, sighing heavily as he looks around the room—if it could be called one. It isn't too warm, nor too cool, and something about the air feels charged. "We may not see each other again if we do."
"Are we still in the temple?" Elena asks, peering over the edge of the narrow landing they've all been guided to. "This is impossible, right?"
"It's magic," Charlie answers, left breathless by the sheer display.
Besides seeing Angeal use some materia during training and seeing Cloud and his friends use it when fighting off monsters, Charlie hasn't had much experience with magic. Her entire life has been built around science and logic, and yet . . . here she is. This is so much more than modern magic—this is magic from thousands of years ago, magic that was likely weaved into the very stone of the temple's foundations.
"Hey . . ." Elena looks down at her wrist, tapping at the face of her watch. "My watch is stopped."
"Where do we begin? Do you even know where we're supposed to go?" Charlie asks Tseng, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place.
"Let's just start walking. We might find something in one of these rooms that will lead us to the Black Materia."
They walk, and they walk, and they walk and walk and walk and walk. They climb up stairs and down stairs, they climb vines to reach otherwise inaccessible pathways and climb to the highest platform they can reach to get a better vantage point.
They must walk for hours, but it's impossible to tell. Tseng's watch has stopped, too, and neither of their phones have progressed past 10:36, the time they arrived at the temple. Sometimes it feels like there are more stairs than there seems, and on level ground, sometimes it can feel like she's walking in place, never getting closer to the other side.
"You know, I was just thinking," Charlie pants, climbing yet another staircase. "How are we going to get out of here?"
"Back the way we came," Tseng answers, sounding slightly out of breath himself.
"And if there is no way out?" she continues, only able to imagine the worst, her body decaying in this labyrinth alongside Tseng and Elena.
"Then I suggest you start making your peace," is his bitter reply.
No one speaks for a long time after that. Charlie suspects both Tseng and Elena are thinking about their own lives, because it's all she can think about. She wonders if anyone would ever find their bodies, if anyone would truly mourn her. Certainly Midgar would mourn the vice president, but would anyone mourn for her? For Charlotte Shinra?
Reeve might, but she doesn't really think that he's too happy with her.
They walk even further, until Charlie needs to beg Tseng for a break. Once Elena joins in, he doesn't hold out for much longer. Hardly able to move, Charlie collapses onto the hard ground, spreading out on her back and sighing.
The space above her is all one color. There is no sun, no moon, no stars, only gray as far as the eye can see. It's oppressive and not at all comforting. It makes her feel trapped, and she doesn't like the feeling one bit.
"Sir! Miss Shinra! Look!" Elena whispers urgently.
Charlie sits up, crawling to Elena's side and following her line of sight. A few levels below them—three, to be exact—there's something purple hovering behind a wall, peeking out every so often as if to look at them.
"What is it?" Charlie asks, trying to get a better look.
Thankfully, the thing moves out from around the corner, still about fifty yards away. It's not a purple thing at all, but rather something dressed in purple, in robes that likely wouldn't look out of place a thousand years ago or so. Hiding its face from view is a pointed hat that looks very frayed and worn, even from this distance, and the lower half of its face is covered by a long white beard.
"Should we follow it, sir?" Elena looks up at Tseng, who narrows his eyes at the stout figure looking up at them, moving restlessly back and forth. "It seems like it's trying to guide us."
"Unless you have a better idea," Charlie adds, raising her eyebrows at Tseng, "I agree with Elena. We've been walking for hours now."
"All right. Elena, lead the way."
Elena seems thrilled to take the lead, and it seems to give her a burst of energy, as well. She leads them down two flights of stairs, and then down a long set of vines, until they follow the purple thing through an archway that suddenly leads them into pitch darkness.
Charlie can hear both Tseng and Elena breathing, so she knows they're there. Reaching out blinding in the dark, she finds a soft and slender hand, and part of her is surprised that Elena doesn't jerk away. Another hand clutches at her shoulder.
"Who am I touching?"
"Me," Charlie answers, their voices echoing throughout what sounds like a massive cavern.
"Where's Elena?"
"Here!" comes her voice.
"I have her hand."
"Let's move, then."
The moment Elena steps forward, there's a blinding flash of light. Charlie has to shield her eyes, but it's over within milliseconds—or minutes, or hours, she isn't sure—and the setting has changed again.
The darkness still surrounds them, but something out of sight offers them light. A narrow pathway is set before them, leading to a small set of stairs. Charlie turns around to find a tunnel leading back towards the archway they seemingly came through, gray light spilling through it.
"I don't like this," Charlie whispers to Tseng.
"Just a little further," he lies.
They creep up the steps. Charlie walks right in the middle; there's nothing on either side of her but darkness, nothingness. She doesn't want to fall into infinite nothingness.
The stairs lead them to another path that turns right, where the man in purple awaits them on the other side. Halfway down the path, there's a small alcove with four columns placed in a circle, and something shimmers from within a wide stone basin.
"He's waiting for us," Elena suggests, and she moves forward quickly.
"Elena! Stop!" Tseng shouts, the ground beginning to rumble beneath their feet.
Elena drops to her knees, and Tseng's hand comes out to catch Charlie's upper arm, squeezing tight. The man in the purple robes jumps, hurrying off down a staircase very similar to the one they've just climbed, escaping through a hard-packed dirt archway.
Directly where he had been standing moments earlier, something large and cylindrical falls from above. The impact of it shakes the entire pathway, and Elena hurries back to them as it rolls towards them. Tseng drags Charlie back to the stairs, and Elena follows. The stone falls off the edge, but it continues to cycle, with three and four rocks following a few seconds after another.
As they continue to roll past, Charlie notices that they're U-shaped, and the divet provides enough room for someone to crouch under if timed properly.
Tseng looks desperately at Charlie. She knows what he's thinking. She's only hindering their progress by being here, and Tseng likely wants to move more quickly than she allows them to.
"It's okay," she says, hoping it reassures him. "I can do it."
"Stay with me. Elena, watch closely."
Charlie tries not to let her fear betray her. One wrong move and those stones will break every bone in her body until she becomes part of the floor. She doesn't have time to think, however, before Tseng is urging her along, crouching down as the first stone rolls over them.
"You know—" Tseng grabs her hand to jerk her along—"you complain a lot less—" They hurry to reach the second stone's carved bend and crouch again to let it pass over them—"than I expected you to."
"I'd make a—" Charlie ducks low, pushed uncomfortably lower by a firm hand on her back—"pretty good Turk, huh?"
Her thighs are beginning to scream from all the squatting she's doing. "That's not funny," he snaps, racing forward with Charlie on his heels, sliding slightly against the ground as he tries to duck. "Don't ever joke about that."
As surprised as she is by his cold reaction, she can't help but laugh quietly to herself, even as another rock rolls towards them.
"Why are you laughing?"
They both crouch down at the same time, and when the stone rolls over them, she isn't as afraid. "It's just . . ." Charlie gets back to her feet, sprinting towards the last obstacle. "You sounded like Veld just now."
They reach the end of the pathway while Elena is still a healthy distance away from them, shouting "whoa!" during a particularly close call. There's another flash of bright light that lasts for a split second, that blinds them, and the rumbling comes to a halt, the stones ceasing to obstruct them.
"You've asked about joining the Turks before?"
"Once, when I was younger." Charlie smiles at him, one of her hands on her hips as Elena huffs and puffs over to them, clearly very shaken. "It earned me a scolding from Veld."
"When was this?"
"A little after I met you, I guess."
Tseng scoffs and rolls his eyes, acting as if that's the stupidest possible thing she could have ever done.
Following the path the purple-cloaked man had taken, Charlie finds herself next in a circular room with archways all around them to form a giant clock. The minute hand is resting just in front of their platform, an X set into the stone above the door. While the second hand continues to tick away, the hour hand points downwards.
"Don't let yourself get knocked off," Tseng warns them, going first across the narrow minute hand, moving almost gracefully to the center platform, which doesn't seem very sturdy, floating there in the darkness.
Charlie goes next, holding her arms out to either side of her like she's walking a balance beam, and Elena follows, shuffling along with a brave face.
The southern archway leads them to another outdoor area, the sky the same monotone gray as in the labyrinth room. They might very well be trapped in an anthill, with several tunnels carved in the rockface, as well as in the rock below them.
There are three levels here, and on the topmost level, where Charlie is, there's a door that's very out of place among these crude carvings. Two bronze columns support the ceiling from collapsing, and four stairs lead to a rusting double-door. However, when Elena pulls on the door, it's locked.
"Damn," she sighs, trying one more time before abandoning it completely. Elena shifts the bag on her back and gives the purple man a sideways look. "Aren't you going to let us in?"
At the sound of Elena's voice, the man seemingly floats through one of the tunnel entrances.
"Catch him!" Tseng orders, and as Elena sprints after it, he holds a hand out to stop Charlie from joining the chase. "You stay here."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously."
It's equal parts amusing and frightening to watch Tseng and Elena attempt to catch this little spirit they've been following. There's no telling which hole they'll come out of when they enter one, and though it's impossible, Charlie is less surprised now about it than she would have been upon first entering the temple.
It takes them about ten minutes (not that she really knows, for time seems to move slightly differently wherever they currently are) to catch the purple spirit. Charlie watches from above as Tseng exits one of the tunnels to hold up a sparkling key above his head.
"Charlotte, catch!"
The key soars upward, and Charlie catches it with ease, quickly shoving it into the keyhole of the only real door around, listening to the lock click! open in a rather satisfying way. She struggles to push the doors open, clearly not having been opened for years, but when both Tseng and Elena put their hands to the doors, it's easy with their combined weight.
"Holy—" Elena continues to speak incoherently for a moment, looking around at the room they've stumbled upon.
Several torches spring to life here, as well, the further they step into the room. The air feels heavy and sticky here, like it's pressing Charlie down, holding her back and slowing her down. Everything about this room seems far older than anything else they've encountered, and the walls are painted with murals that are beginning to fade with time.
There are paintings of something that looks like the temple itself, along with many people, all of the same coloring and shape, all wearing the same type of clothing, all facing what has to be the elusive Black Materia.
"What is all of this?" Elena asks, tilting her head left and right as she looks closely at the paintings. "Do you think it can help us find the Promised Land?"
Charlie turns away from the wall, waiting for Tseng's answer. His eyes are fixed on another part of the mural, where there's a large painting of what looks very much like a comet hurtling from the sky towards a group of people. "I wonder," he muses, looking from Elena to Charlie and back again. "Elena, I need you to report back to the president."
"Yes, sir."
"And I hope that Charlotte and I can count on your discretion," Tseng continues firmly, causing Elena's cheeks to turn bright pink. Charlie averts her eyes, not wanting to seem guilty of anything. "You would have my sincere gratitude."
"Y—yes, sir. Of course."
Charlie and Tseng watch Elena run from the room, the double doors closing heavily behind her. There's a slight breeze that ruffles her hair, and then the air becomes still and thick again, suffocating her.
"She has a crush on you," Charlie teases, watching him discreetly for a reaction.
"I know." He hardly reacts at all, too interested in observing the murals on the walls. "What do you think?"
Charlie scoffs, prepared to dig in. "Do you want my honest opinion?"
"I meant about the murals. About the temple." He casts her an incredulous look over his shoulder. "Not Elena. I know very well how you feel about her without having to listen to you say it."
"Right." Charlie puts her hands on her hips, looking around carefully. She knows very well what the comet likely is—the calamity that fell from the sky two-thousand years ago. "I don't understand. Is this supposed to be the Promised Land?"
"I don't think so," Tseng answers, moving closer to run his fingertips over the wall. "Yet, there is a certain kind of magic here . . . surely you feel it?"
"Do you think it could be the Black Materia?" Charlie leans in closer, looking with him. "It's here, isn't it?"
There's a slight scuffling sound coming from behind them, a shoe against the dirt floor, and both Charlie and Tseng whirl around to find they are no longer alone.
"Sephiroth!" Tseng steps forward, putting himself between Charlie and the other man in front of them.
Sephiroth hasn't changed since the night her father died. He carries his sword in his left hand, close enough to push it through both Tseng and Charlie without needing to move much closer. If anything, he looks slightly amused to find them both here. They've walked right into a trap, and they all know it.
"You found your way here and opened the door," Sephiroth tells them smoothly, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "Well done."
Charlie has to admire Tseng's ability to face Sephiroth without hesitation, and when he speaks, it's in his level voice. "What is this place?"
Her fingers curl around Tseng's shoulder, trying to communicate the idea of running. They aren't going to escape him unharmed if they continue to chat, if they prolong the amount of time they're here. When Sephiroth moves closer, she squeezes harder. There is no mistaking her fear now.
"This—" Sephiroth gestures vaguely around with his free arm—"is a treasure house of forgotten knowledge, a place that possesses the wisdom of the Ancients . . ." He turns towards the walls, letting his eyes scan over the paintings. "I am going to become one with the planet."
Tseng holds an arm out to stop Charlie from moving any closer. Her heart is beating so fast and so hard now that surely Tseng can feel it against his back. "Become one with the planet?" he asks.
"Fools, all of you," Sephiroth hisses, the amused smile on his face vanishing quickly. "You have never stopped to consider it . . . all the spirit energy of this planet and all of its knowledge . . . and wisdom . . ." He opens his arms again, a man gripped by madness, lacking the humanity she knew him to once possess. "And I will meld with it all . . . I will become one with it, and it will become one with me . . ."
Tseng hesitates. "Is that possible?"
"The way . . . lies here," is Sephiroth's answer, and he turns slowly to face them again. "Only death awaits you all." He lifts his sword and Charlie cries out as Sephiroth continues to speak, as if he doesn't even hear her. "But do not fear."
Sephiroth brings his sword down swiftly. Any noise that Tseng makes is drowned out by Charlie's scream of terror, but she's able to pull herself together in order to catch him before he falls, lowering him to the ground as he bleeds profusely from his abdomen.
"Tseng!" she cries, lying him on his back. "No, Tseng—"
"For it is through death that a new spirit energy is born," Sephiroth continues, smiling down at Tseng before meeting Charlie's eyes. She tries to back away, but he reaches down and grabs a fistful of her hair, keeping her in place. "Soon, you will live again as a new part of me."
She closes her eyes as Sephiroth holds the cold steel to the side of her neck, and the blade is so sharp that she can feel it cutting into her skin with the smallest bit of pressure.
At least he's going to make it quick. Death would be a mercy, and at least she won't be alone while it happens. At least Tseng will be here while it happens, and she won't have to rot here alone. When people find her body hundreds of years from now, they'll mourn the two nameless people who were left behind . . . but at least . . . they're here together . . .
Kill me.
Several minutes must pass. She's lost all track of time now. Charlie opens her eyes to find Sephiroth still hovering over her, his fingers tight in her hair still, blade just underneath her jawline.
"Please," she begs in a hoarse voice, but she doesn't know whether she's begging for her life, or for an end to it.
"Leave her—" Tseng rasps, lying on his side in his own blood. "Sephiroth . . . leave her . . ."
"Does seeing him like that truly make you want to die so badly?" Sephiroth asks in a low voice, moving his sword slightly and cutting deeper into her skin. It hardly does more than sting, but it causes her heart to stop momentarily.
Charlie nods, trying to lean away from the blade, but Sephiroth has a firm grip on her head.
"Death will come for you, as well," he tells her, pulling his sword away and pushing her towards Tseng. She scrambles on her hands and knees over to him, breathing so hard that she nearly passes out. "But slowly . . . and painfully . . . and not before you watch helplessly as he dies in your arms . . ."
And to her surprise, Sephiroth takes a few steps back, opens his arms wide, and shoots upwards, phasing through the ceiling as if he was nothing more than a ghost.
But his hand in her hair had been real, and the hot breath on her face had been very real, and the sword at her neck had been very, very real. And Tseng, bleeding out as she tries to remember what's going on, is certainly not putting on an act.
"Tseng . . ." she whispers, her voice breaking. "No . . ." Charlie looks down at him, horrified. She helps move him, propping him against the wall, each of his sighs and grunts breaking her heart further.
"Go . . . check the door . . ."
"Okay." She pushes herself to her feet, running to the door that Elena had taken only a few minutes ago. When Charlie tries to open it, however, she finds it locked. She screams for help, kicks and pounds at it, but no one comes, and it's impossible to break down.
I'm going to die here, she thinks, running her hands through her hair. We're both going to die here.
It's all so overwhelming. How is she supposed to feel? She hardly feels anything, only a sense of numbness. Charlie drops to her knees beside Tseng again, breathing very shakily. Any moment now, she's going to start crying. The lump is already forming in her throat, and the tears are making her eyes burn.
She knows she has to do something. Both of Tseng's arms are covering his abdomen, and when Charlie gently takes hold of his wrists to move them, she meets slight resistance.
"I have to look," she breathes, feeling the first few tears beginning to streak down her cheeks, liquid fire against her skin. "I have to see."
He nods quickly, hardly. His face is very pale, and sweat gleams upon his hairline. Charlie moves his arms aside and his suit jacket seems to fall apart after having been sliced so cleanly. His white undershirt is soaked in blood and, with violently trembling hands, Charlie unbuttons the rest of it, opening his shirt to reveal the horror underneath.
She has to look away, holding her hands above the deep wound that pulses dark red blood. It runs from just underneath his right breast to his left hip bone, and it is one of the most gruesome sights she's ever seen. His entire torso seems smeared with blood, and he seems to convulse every few seconds.
"That . . . bad?" Tseng coughs.
Charlie shakes her head, but the tears betray her. She holds her hands to his stomach, hoping to staunch the bleeding. She knows that it's useless, but she can't just sit here and watch him bleed out. The blood is warm, seeping through her fingers, staining her milky skin, fingers, hands, forearms, and her clothes.
"I shouldn't . . . have brought you . . . here," he croaks, never looking away from her face. His eyes are heavy, and Charlie thinks they look a little watery. "I'm . . . sorry . . ."
"It's okay. It's okay." She presses a little harder on his stomach, but it only makes him groan. "It's okay. I'm going to think of a way to get us out of here."
"Charlotte . . ." Tseng closes his eyes, still slumped against the wall. "I'm not . . . leaving here . . ."
She knows it. Even if the door were open, there's no possible way that Tseng would be able to make it all the way back to where they started. Charlie grits her teeth, glad his eyes are closed to keep him from catching her crying harder, her tears mingling with his blood, dripping from the tip of her nose to fall upon the back of her hands.
Charlie lifts one of her hands, painted with his blood, to touch his face. She pushes his hair behind his ears, the hair that sticks to his sweaty face. "I love you," she whispers.
"I know," he answers, eyes fluttering open to look right at her. A small smile tugs at his lips.
She takes his hand in hers, slowly pulling off his glove to touch his hand. His palm is all sweaty, but Charlie laces her fingers with his. He brings her fingers to his lips, closing his eyes again and letting their hands fall away from his face limply.
Charlie smiles down at him, so full of love for him for the first time in, what feels like, forever. Her entire body shakes as she continues to cry, shifting him from against the wall so he's cradled against her chest like a child. She buries her face in his hair, holds him for the last time, resigned to the fact they're going to die here, and she's surprisingly at ease with the idea.
"I don't want you to die," she sobs. There are so many things she wants to say to him, but now that the moment to say them has come, she can't remember a single thing she's ever wanted to say to anyone.
Gods, please help him, she thinks to no one in particular, hoping that one of the long dead Ancients can hear her begging for mercy, for a way to save him from this horrible fate. He doesn't deserve this. Please help us. Please let him live. Please open the door, get us out of here.
The air seems to change.
It seems to thin again, and she can breathe properly, and there's a light breeze on the back of her neck. Tseng is so still that she isn't certain he's still alive—until he draws a rasping breath, his eyes remaining closed.
Charlie lifts her head, looking around. Am I dead? Am I dreaming? They're sitting on the dais in the entrance room of the temple, right in front of the pedestal. And in her right hand—when did that happen?—is something that fits snugly in her palm. When she uncurls her fingers, she sees that it's the Keystone in her hand, glowing bright.
The sun is still high in the sky, judging by the positions of the shadows, and everything is still quiet.
"Tseng," she whispers to him, crying harder at the thought of hope. "Tseng, look—look, we're out—"
He opens his eyes, struggling slightly, and looks around. "Go, Charlotte . . . before he comes back . . ."
"What?" she asks, scoffing through her tears and looking down into his deathly white face, dark shadows appearing under his eyes. "I'm not leaving you behind."
He lifts his hand a few inches to touch her neck, where Charlie had completely forgotten she was wounded. The adrenaline surging through her keeps it from stinging.
"When Avalanche comes . . ." he says, face twisted in pain. "You will . . . go with them."
Charlie frowns. "No," she answers, "no, I'm not—I'm not just going to leave you here."
"Yes—"
"No!" she protests. "Elena's going to come back and take us both home—"
"I will not let her . . . take you back to Midgar . . . to the president . . . your brother . . ."
"I want to stay with you."
It's not fair, she thinks. It's not fair that the world would take Tseng away from her, not after taking Veld (and her actual father). Not after taking her mother. Not after taking Angeal.
For a long time they just look at each other. Charlie wants to remember every aspect of his face, never wanting to forget like she had tried to forget Veld. She touches his cheek again, fingertips skating over smooth skin, wanting to preserve this moment.
At least he doesn't have to die alone.
At least he doesn't have to die thinking that no one would mourn him or grieve for him.
"You were my family, Tseng."
"And you were mine."
A soft sigh escapes his lips, and his eyes flutter closed again. Charlie holds him and cries.