Bone Village is not really a village, but more of a camp full of excavators who have spent months living in tents and crude shelters formed by fossils too big to remove from the ground completely.
They're pleased to have visitors, and especially pleased to learn that Charlotte Shinra is with them. In exchange for the resources to find the "Lunar Harp" necessary to follow Aerith through the Sleeping Forest, room and board for the night while those men dig around, and a hot dinner, Charlotte spends a few minutes in a tent with the leader of the group, discussing the possibility for an investment into their little community.
With Vincent standing over her right shoulder as she sits at the end of a long dining table, Charlie almost feels like a proper vice president again.
When given time to consider it, Charlie pulls Cait Sith aside and discusses the opportunity. It's the first time she's spoken privately to him since their conversation on the Tiny Bronco. "They only want fifty-thousand gil for more resources and men," she whispers to him, shrugging her shoulders.
"What should I do?"
"Just see to it that the money is sent somehow," Charlie decides. It's not like she has much else to spend her money on. "But call my accountant, and have him do it. He'll know which account to send it from."
There's a moment's pause. "Charlotte, are you embezzling money from the company?"
She shrugs coyly, smiling at him. "I wouldn't call taking a few hundred gil here and there embezzling. I'm only taking back what I'm owed." She wipes the smile off her face, all business again. "Make sure that the money comes from me, not the company. I don't want Rufus to cancel the transaction."
"Yes, ma'am, right away," Cait Sith replies, saluting her. She looks at him for a few long seconds. She's not really sure when Reeve is present or not, but she hopes that it's him she's talking to, and not Cait Sith. "Anything else?"
"No, that's everything. Thank you."
Cloud is anxious to get going, but the excavators assure him that, without the Lunar Harp, they won't be able to pass through the Sleeping Forest at all.
In exchange for the vice president's gratitude, they also offer up a private tent for the party, which is certainly big enough for them all to sleep comfortably, but Charlie still isn't comfortable sleeping in such close confines with everyone.
There's a fire pit in the center, the smoke filtering through a hole in the canvas ceiling. It's stiflingly warm inside, and everyone is setting up makeshift beds with blankets and clothing and bags, splitting off into clusters.
Tifa and Yuffie decide to share the only bed, and Cait Sith decides to deactivate for the night outside the entrance, which she's grateful for.
She feels dirty, and used, and horribly ashamed of herself, left wondering what she might have told Cait Sith that she didn't want Reeve to know.
It's one thing to be aware she's being spied on. The Turks have never been particularly quiet about their duty to her, but it's not like she had anything to hide from the people who knew everything about her. The only time it made her really angry was when they intervened.
At least Tseng intervened quietly, as well. Reno was never afraid to get in her face if he felt she deserved it.
But to not know that she's being spied on—by Reeve, of all people—is completely different. She feels completely violated, laid bare in her most vulnerable state for him to observe her.
Charlie settles in a corner of the tent, far from the fire, but still able to feel the sweltering heat of the flames. Too afraid of using the communal toilets, she had been forced to rely on the surrounding area for privacy to go about her business and change clumsily into sleeping clothes, and now her legs are beginning to itch, her skin blistering with the beginnings of a rash from some stupid poison leaves she must have touched.
All she wants to do is cry, but she can't.
Crying needs to be reserved for behind closed doors, for spare moments when there's no one around to witness your weakness.
At least, that's what Father used to say when her five-year-old self had burst into tears at the Shinra Building one day, after her father had given an order to have several wounded guard dogs put down without batting an eye.
She hasn't adhered to that rule as much as the others, but crying in front of people she's comfortable with isn't quite the same as baring her soul with sobs to a group of people that are still sometimes indifferent towards her.
It's not like she can sleep outside tonight. It's far too cold this far north, and she doesn't have enough warm clothing to get her through the night without a fire.
Why is this so hard for me? she asks herself, settling down onto the smallest blanket Barret had to offer and using her backpack as a pillow. I've slept with other people before. I shared a bed with Aerith a few times, I slept with Cissnei sometimes, and I shared a bed with Tseng.
That was different, though. Aerith had been a comforting presence when it was just the two of them, Cissnei had been her friend, and Tseng was someone she had known for half her life.
Cid has chosen an empty space close to the fire to sleep, clad only in some sweatpants and a sleeveless undershirt, his eyes already closed and one thick arm resting across his stomach.
Part of her thinks she might be okay sleeping next to Cid.
Charlie glances towards the entrance and finds Vincent propped against a sofa that's occupied by Nanaki. She and Vincent meet eyes for a split second, and she blushes furiously, rolling over and sighing.
She doesn't think she would mind sleeping near Vincent, either, but only because it feels like he carries a piece of Veld with him.
Truthfully, she's been enjoying their shooting lessons very much. He's a very methodical teacher, not very hands-on, but certainly knowledgeable. They haven't been able to do much actual shooting, given that ammo is scarce, but Charlie is able to pass much of the time by telling stories about Veld, talking to her heart's content while he listens on in silence, sometimes offering something she would call laughter, but he calls a scoff.
She wants to sleep next to Reeve—not Cait Sith, but Reeve.
She misses him, and she misses Rufus. The two people she positively hates right now.
Charlie must be exhausted, because she falls asleep quickly that night. It's been a long few days of travel, and the excavators had given them a hot, rich meal that made her bloat.
But she wakes abruptly in the middle of the night, half-remembered dreams slipping away before she remembers where she is at all.
One thing is for certain—Cid isn't in the tent anymore. The space by the fire is empty again and, upon hearing everyone breathing and snoring, she decides to go find him.
When Charlie exits the tent, she's met with a blast of cold air, sending shivers down her spine. Her legs are red and uncovered with the shorts she's wearing, but at least she's put her jacket on, though it offers only a little protection.
"Going somewhere?"
Charlie nearly faints right there, hearing the hoarse voice coming from just behind her. Shaking all over, she turns to find Vincent standing against a hard-packed dirt wall a few feet from the tent entrance where Cait Sith is hunched over. She hadn't even noticed he was missing from inside.
Clutching her chest and wheezing, she smiles awkwardly at him, though she's sure it's impossible to see it from where he's standing in the shadows.
"I just—I wasn't leaving, I—I just had to go—"
Vincent points towards the opposite end of the dig site with his golden gauntlet. "He went that way."
Charlie feels herself relax. "Thank you," she whispers, hurrying off in the direction he indicated.
It's quite easy to follow the smell of cigarette smoke. She has to climb a ladder, circle around another tent, and she finds him sitting on the edge of the upper level, legs dangling over the edge while he shivers in the chill air.
He doesn't even seem to notice her until she's sitting down beside him. Cid startles so badly that she worries he's going to slide right off the edge.
"I didn't mean to sneak up on you," she smiles nervously, holding her jacket tighter around her. She can see her breath puffing out in front of her.
"No, that's okay."
It's quiet between them for a moment. She hasn't allowed herself much time with Cid ever since Reeve's confession. Truthfully, she doesn't trust herself around him sometimes. Cid is always saying or doing something that makes her blush, and she doesn't want Reeve to think he's the reason she's staying with Avalanche, the reason she ran away from Midgar and her responsibilities.
"Vice President" is just an empty title anyway. The only power that comes with it is whatever power Rufus chooses to bestow upon her.
"I hope Aerith is okay," Charlie sighs, bringing a knee to her chest to rest her chin atop it.
"I'm sure she's fine. Kid's tougher than she looks."
"She's pretty, isn't she?" She hates that the words come without warning, hates that it makes her sound so petty, hates herself for asking.
"Fuckin' hell, Lottie."
"What?" she snaps.
"You avoid talkin' to me for days, and that's the first goddamn question you're gonna ask me?"
Charlie flushes head to toe. "I was just asking a question—"
"You're asking a stupid fuckin' question—"
"Fine, then I'm leaving."
Cid's hand darts out before she can stand up, thick fingers curling around her wrist. "Hold on, little lady. You ain't gettin' away that easily."
"Let go of me right now."
"Nope."
Charlie struggles, but he's too strong. Only after she growls through her teeth does he release her, laughing to himself.
"Y'know, that's pretty fuckin' rich of you to be concerned 'bout if I think Aerith is pretty or not," he continues, slightly bitterly, "when you're the one goin' off into the woods with that Turk every chance you can get."
"Now who's acting stupid?" she counters.
"Didn't you get pissed off at me for the same thing?"
"That was like, five years ago. And I was only upset because you weren't preparing for the launch like you were supposed to be."
"Oh yeah? That was the only reason?"
She knows he's only trying to get a rise out of her, but it's working. She's so embarrassed that she could die, content to slip off the edge of the ledge and lie broken on the ground until morning.
Charlie feels guilty, then. She can't really explain why. Perhaps it's because Cid hasn't done anything to warrant a scolding from her. Perhaps it's because there's so much he doesn't know, so much that she's keeping from him—mainly the knowledge that her ex-fiancé has been following Cloud and the others around since Gold Saucer.
"Vincent doesn't really talk to me anyway," she admits softly. "It's like he thinks I'm not worth the energy."
"Maybe he just doesn't know what to say. Maybe he's intimidated by such a stubborn young woman."
To her surprise, his answer makes her giggle, though she hides her smile behind her fingers like it's a secret. It seems wrong to smile after all that's happened.
"What's so funny?" Cid asks, sounding worried about what her answer might be.
"It's just that . . ." She lowers her hand so he's able to see her smile. "When Veld first introduced me to Tseng, he was the same way. It took him some time to warm up to me. It's just funny because . . . well . . ." Her smile fades slightly. "You just reminded me of Veld, that's all."
"He . . . meant a lot to you?"
"Tseng?"
"No. Veld."
"Oh." Charlie swings her legs forward and back, her ankles colliding gently with the wall. "Yes, he did."
"What happened to him?"
She sighs. If she talks about Veld, she'll have to talk about Tseng, too, and his death still weighs heavily on her. With an apologetic smile, she says, "Maybe not tonight."
Cid's voice is gruff, but gentle. "Okay."
"Why don't you tell me something?" she asks. She has no qualms listening to his secrets.
"I ain't got any secrets, Lottie. You know me."
"Not a secret, then. Just something I don't know."
Cid thinks for a minute, chuckling as he lights another cigarette. "Okay," he sighs, holding his fingers to his scratchy chin. "Shit, I don't know what to say, honey."
"Well, why did you join the military?"
"Some recruiters came sniffin' round town one day lookin' for pilots," he explains, and Charlie tries to picture him as no more than a boy, but it's difficult to picture him any other way than he is now, or that he had been all those years ago. "Told me I'd be clothed, fed, and paid if I joined the military. So I did, and didn't look back. Moved to Junon a week later and started training."
"Did you ever see any action?"
"A little."
"Did you ever kill anyone?"
Cid seems surprised by her boldness, his eyes widening and a nervous little laugh escaping his lips. "I mean," he pauses, "they were our enemies, Lottie, but I ain't proud of it."
Charlie nods.
"That doesn't scare you or anything, does it?"
"No," she replies honestly, "it doesn't."
He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Good."
"I grew up around murderers, Cid," Charlie reminds him sheepishly, looking away towards the glowing tents down below. "I was raised by them."
He takes a pull off his cigarette. It glows bright in the darkness. "What was it like?"
Dangerous territory, she thinks, biting down on her lip. I need to be careful what I tell him.
But why? What's the harm in telling him the truth?
"It was lonely sometimes," Charlie confesses, picking at her shorts. "I hated the things they did, the callousness of it all, the professionalism of it all. I hated being associated with them." She thinks of the Sector Seven plate dropping, killing hundreds of thousands of people in seconds. "But they were there for me. They supported and took care of me. And Veld, Tseng . . . they loved me, and they didn't have to."
He doesn't answer, but she doesn't expect him to. She doesn't really expect him to understand how that feels, to struggle with these feelings of burning resentment and guilty love.
"Does that frighten you?" Charlie asks again.
"No," Cid answers slowly, "it doesn't."
"It should. You should be terrified of the Turks, and of my brother."
"Well—" He looks around the dig site and lowers his voice—"I don't see any of 'em here to save you from me now, honey."
She hesitates, but settles on telling him something else, one other truth to leave him with for the night. "I like it when you call me that."
"Call you what?" He gives her a crooked smile, flashing bright teeth at her. "Honey?"
Charlie nods again, feeling overwhelmed. "I should get back."
"I'll go with you."
When they re-enter the tent, Vincent is back in his place by the sofa, sitting up with his eyes closed. Charlie settles back down in her corner, stepping carefully over Barret's legs in the process. Part of her hopes Cid will move closer to her, but he regains his place by the fire, closing his eyes almost immediately.
Charlie puts her back to him and falls asleep.
The Sleeping Forest awakens with the Lunar Harp.
Though it was quiet before, it remains quiet after being woken. The only thing that seems to change is the atmosphere, feeling heavier than when they took their first step into the forest from Bone Village. Charlie can't help but feel there are constant eyes on the back of her neck, and the fine hairs on her arms stand up, goosebumps rising all over her skin.
There is magic here, old magic, just like she had felt at the Temple of the Ancients. She can feel it beneath her feet with every step she takes, and when the trees seem to shiver, there is no breeze to push them along.
Thankfully, it's not a terribly long walk, and when they're free of the forest, it's like being born again.
The rest of the journey is not so easy.
With Cloud setting a grueling pace, Charlie does all she can to keep up with him. She and Cid move together in the middle of the group, and once out of the forest, they find there's no set path for them to follow anymore. Once again, Charlie wonders how Aerith had managed the journey alone, wonders if the magic within this place had helped her along.
They're all able to climb rock and cross through downed and hollow tree trunks in order to find the path again. To Cloud and Nanaki and Yuffie and Tifa, this is all very easy for them, but not for the rest. Charlie struggles at times to climb confidently, but Cid stays below her to catch her if she falls. Barret has a harder time than Vincent, what with his one working hand, and Cait Sith has to wrap his tiny arms around Charlie's neck to make his way up, while Vincent and Cid reach down to pull up the moogle afterwards.
When they eventually find the path again, a horrible twisting thing that, to Charlie, resembles a spine, she begins to feel a sense of foreboding.
The City of the Ancients has clearly been long abandoned, reduced to ruins. While multi-colored plantlife springs up from between the pathway and on either side of them, it's no plantlife she's ever seen before. Many of the buildings that still stand have been built from oversized shells, while the rest of the buildings have been reduced to nearly nothing.
They search everywhere for Aerith. Cloud swears up and down that this was where she intended to go, and Charlie doesn't doubt him, but there's no sign of her anywhere. They call out her name several times and are met with no response. They search the buildings that still stand, only to find some furniture left behind by whatever Ancients lived here all those years ago.
Down one pathway, around another, through a broken house, off the pathway and into the ruins proper. They search for hours, watching the sun slowly lower upon the northern horizon. There are no footprints that might belong to Aerith, Nanaki can't pick up her scent, and it's getting darker and colder.
"You're probably the first Shinra to ever set foot in this place," Cait Sith tells her quietly after a while, taking a short, five-second break to look around and admire the ruins in the glow of the evening sun. "Take it in."
She's slightly apprehensive about that, truthfully. Part of her had been thrilled about wandering through the Temple of the Ancients because of that exact thought, and their adventure had turned out so badly that Charlie wishes she had never gone at all. If Cloud had been telling the truth about Sephiroth on his way here, to stop Aerith, then who's to say she won't meet that same fate?
She won't, Charlie tells herself. We've all come to rescue her, which is far more than Tseng got.
"This place has been abandoned for two-thousand years," the cat continues to explain, worming his way onto her shoulders to keep quiet, taking advantage of Cid's temporary distance. "Once the calamity came, they were forced to disperse, to blend in with the other human population."
Charlie looks around again. She tries to picture the place blooming with life, full of Ancients that look like Aerith, running back and forth through the twisting pathways. For a moment, a thrill of terror shoots through her entire body, and she shudders so violently that Cait Sith jumps from her shoulders back to his fluffy white steed.
She shouldn't be here. She doesn't belong here. Shinra ruins and destroys everything they touch, and that includes her.
As night begins to fall, they're no closer to finding Aerith than they were yesterday. Thankfully, Tifa is able to convince Cloud to get some rest in a house that still stands. They're all exhausted from walking non-stop all day, and everyone's stomach is beginning to rumble from walking on small, dehydrated snacks picked up from Bone Village.
Nanaki, Vincent, Barret, and Cait Sith all decide to get comfortable on the floor. Yuffie and Tifa share one bed, Cloud takes another, and Cid tells Charlie to go ahead and sleep in the last one.
"No, it's all right. I can sleep on the floor," she tells him, blushing.
"Look, I ain't gonna take a bed while there's a lady sleepin' on the floor," Cid whispers, putting his hands on her shoulders and steering her towards the only empty one as everyone else begins to settle. "Go on, kiddo. It's just for a few hours."
Charlie doesn't know what sort of madness possesses her when she replies, "We can share, if you'd like. I don't mind."
Cid smiles down at her, almost sympathetic. She regrets the offer the moment it leaves her mouth, having almost forgotten that Reeve will surely take note of her sleeping with another man (Tseng doesn't count, she thinks, because she definitely didn't want to kiss Tseng like she wants to kiss Cid right now right now right now). But Gods it would feel good again to allow herself to be wrapped up in someone's arms.
"Go ahead, Lottie. I'll be all right on the floor."
Damn you, she thinks. Now she definitely wants to share a bed with him. Maybe it's a little petty, but he had been so kind to her last night, had somehow coerced information from her that she wasn't really comfortable talking about in front of just anyone. All he had to do was smile handsomely and listen well and it came pouring out of her.
The rejection stings, especially in a room full of people who may or may not be listening, especially when one of those people happens to be a man she intended to marry. "Okay," she says softly, offering him a small smile before taking another step back towards the bed.
Yet, to her surprise, Cid settles on the floor right next to her bed. She lets her arm dangle off the edge, wondering if he'll be brave enough to touch her. After several minutes of him fidgeting and getting comfortable on the hard ground, his hand finds hers, and she falls asleep shortly afterwards.
She wakes late into the night, after the sun has set in earnest. Cloud is already awake, and his movement sets everyone else to stirring, as well. Charlie pulls her hand away from Cid's, giving his shoulder a gentle shake to wake him up.
"We ready to keep movin'?" Barret asks with a yawn, rolling his shoulders and getting to his feet.
"Cloud," Tifa says, walking up to him and frowning. "Is something wrong?"
"I can feel it . . ." Cloud holds his head in his hands. She can hear the shifting of Vincent's sabatons against the floor, and Yuffie groans into her pillow before leaping from her bed. "Aerith is here, and so is Sephiroth."
Charlie hesitates, wondering how such a thing could be possible. She tries to feel for whatever he might be feeling, but comes up short. Maybe the City of the Ancients doesn't want to communicate with the VP of Shinra Electric Power Company.
"Sephiroth?" she asks, feeling her heart flutter, remembering the way he had nearly sliced Tseng in two, remembering the way his sword had pinned her father to his desk. "He's here?"
Cid holds out a hand to calm Cloud down. "Hang on just a damn minute. How can you be so sure 'bout that?"
"I just . . ." Cloud lowers his hands, looking down at them. "I can feel it in my soul."
"Then let's waste no more time," Nanaki suggests.
"Right." Cloud nods, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "Let's hurry."
Cloud leads them all out of the house before they're entirely awake. Charlie feels her feet beginning to drag, but the sight of Cid flexing the fingers on the hand that was holding hers gives her a small push of energy. She curls her own fingers into a fist, wishing she had stayed awake long enough to enjoy the feeling of their fingers twined together.
At a fork in the road, split three ways, Cloud points down the middle pathway towards a small gathering of flat rocks, where bone-white trees spring from the ground, lacking any leaves. Claiming to be led by Aerith's voice, he continues with his friends at his back.
She doesn't know when the feeling may actually have begun, but Charlie knows now that something is wrong. Why would Aerith have come here alone? They all would have protected her, kept her free from harm. Was she trying to draw Sephiroth off everyone else to give them more time?
Upon entering the dense forest, full of more eerie trees full of branches that look like thin fingers, they're greeted by a small pool with glittering blue water, completely still. An enormous conch-shell towers over it, casting much of the water in shadow (or, as much as it can during the night).
The inside is a spiral ramp, leading up to the top, where it's a dead end. If they wish to proceed down, however, that option is available to them, as well, in the form of a crystalline staircase that descends deep into the heart of the City of the Ancients.
It feels like she's underwater, though Charlie finds she can still breathe. There is nothing around them except for green- and blue-tinted darkness, graced with light by the moonbeams that shine through the surface.
A massive crystal structure seems to grow from nothing, partially surrounding the preserved ruins that the stairs are leading them to. She clings to the back of Cid's jacket as they continue down the stairs, half-afraid that she'll fall off and be caught in limbo for the rest of eternity. The rest of her companions follow behind carefully, especially Cait Sith, whose moogle seems slightly too wide to comfortably descend.
These ruins are in much better shape, clearly made of different materials than the upper ruins. There are several towers with narrow windows, a first and second story connected by solid staircases, and pillars that clearly carried something large two-thousand years ago.
In the center of the shallow pool of water that the ruins are built around, a few pillars remain of what, she assumes, was a bridge, leading to the altar drenched in yellow light, as if the sun were shining right down upon it.
That's where they find Aerith, kneeling on the ground with her head bowed and her hands clasped together. It feels a very solemn moment, and Charlie is the first to step towards the first pillar, determined to get Aerith, but Cloud holds a hand out to stop her.
"I'll go," he murmurs, and while Charlie is reluctant to stay behind with everyone else, Cid takes her by the hand and pulls her away to give Cloud room.
He hops his way across the broken pillars until he reaches the altar, walking the remaining steps very slowly. If Aerith has noticed his arrival, she hasn't made any mention of it. She remains deep in prayer, and Charlie wonders how long she's been here.
The moment Cloud takes another step towards Aerith, finally reaching the landing, his hand jumps to his head. Charlie's heart leaps in her throat, remembering the incident in the buggy when she had asked Cloud about Angeal and his sword. Thankfully, he seems to shake it off much quicker this time, and Charlie feels Cid's arm creep around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.
Perhaps he feels it to, whatever it is. That awful feeling that's settling in Charlie's stomach. Where is Sephiroth? Isn't he supposed to be here? How could they possibly have gotten here before him?
Time seems to move so slowly. Even as Cloud reaches behind him to grab the pommel of his Buster Sword—wait, what?
It slides off his back with ease, and Cloud continues to move closer to Aerith, seemingly unchanged. Maybe he's concerned about Sephiroth, as well, and yet . . . the closer he gets, the higher he's raising his sword, until he's right in front of Aerith with both hands and his sword held high above his head.
"Cloud!" Cid shouts, and everyone seems to scream with him, attempting to catch Cloud's attention, hoping to distract him from whatever he's about to do to Aerith.
"Stop it!" Charlie screams, horrified as she becomes convinced she's about to watch Cloud cleave Aerith in half, from her shoulder to her hip. "Cloud, what are you doing!"
The blade of his sword comes to a halt just before striking Aerith in the head. Charlie's hands are sweaty and her heart is racing, but Cid won't let her go, and Barret is already preparing to go after Cloud, to knock him out before he does something stupid.
Lowering his sword, Cloud falls backwards.
"Something is wrong," Charlie tells her friends, nuzzling against Cid's side against her better judgement, allowing his fingers to press firmly into her shoulder. "What's wrong with him?"
But Tifa doesn't have an answer for her, and neither does anyone else.
"What are you . . . making me do . . ." Cloud gives his head a shake, stumbling at the top step. Barret calls out for him, but before he's able to move closer, Cloud stops him again with a single hand.
Finally, finally, Aerith looks up. She raises her head slowly, lips curling into a small smile upon seeing Cloud. For a moment, they look at each other, and it's sweet to witness a tender moment after searching for her for so long.
It doesn't last long.
For the first time in weeks, Charlotte feels as if she's back in the president's office, in her father's office, hiding within the wardrobe as her father's employees were being slaughtered in the corridors. Something descends from the watery-looking sky, something dressed all in black, directly atop Aerith, and the large sword gleams as the light hits it just right.
It is the same easy strength that killed her father.
Sephiroth's sword slides through Aerith's back just as smoothly as it did President's Shinra. Sephiroth hardly seems to break a sweat, pushing the sword as far as it will go as he lands, the end of the sword covered in sticky red blood.
Aerith gasps, the bloodstain on the front of her pink dress growing bigger, bigger, bigger. It's over within seconds, her upper half slumping over, green doe-eyes wide with shock. Charlie can't look away from it, not even when Sephiroth pulls his sword out of her abdomen, smiling. She still can't look away, even as Aerith falls forward into Cloud's arms, pale green materia falling from her pink ribbon.
She hasn't even registered that her friends are all screaming and shouting, pushing past her with their weapons drawn and making their way up to the altar. Charlie can't bring herself to follow, horrified, unable to hear, unable to move, unable to do anything but gape at Aerith and a triumphant-looking Sephiroth.
First her father, who had been skewered carelessly, pinned to his desk before his own daughter's very eyes.
And then it had been Tseng, sliced open and forced to bleed out in Charlie's arms.
And now Aerith, killed mercilessly without time for anyone to say good-bye, without time for anyone to smile with her, to laugh with her, to talk to her one last time.
A horrible, blinding guilt takes over. Charlie drops to her knees, unable to stand on shaking legs any longer. If she had just stayed in her room with Aerith that night, would she still have left? Is this her fault? Was Tseng her fault? Should she have spoken to Sephiroth? Tried to reason with him?
Are they dead . . . because of me?
Charlie pulls her handgun out of the holster. Don Corneo's gun seems a fine weapon to use to fill Sephiroth full of bullet holes. She can't fight like the others, and she's useless when it comes to materia and everything else, but she's willing to die here if it means the end of this burning guilt, this horror, this pain, the loss.
Holding her gun in one trembling hand, Charlie leaps from pillar to pillar, making for her group of friends. She does not fear Sephiroth anymore. He had almost killed her once, only to spare her. She does not fear death, and anything he will do to her will be quick.
She pushes through her friends, squeezing between Barret and a crying Tifa, pushing a sobbing Yuffie aside to stand a few feet away from Cloud, Aerith, and Sephiroth.
"Aerith . . ." Cloud whimpers, and Charlie looks down at her face, peaceful and beautiful, even in death. She hadn't been forced to struggle in pain like Tseng did. "This can't be real . . ."
At the sight of Aerith, Charlie loses all of her willpower. She takes a step back, backing right into Cid's chest. One of his strong arms snakes around her, his weapon still in his right hand. Charlie buries her face into his chest, the coarse growth on his face scratching against her forehead as he nuzzles against her hair for a moment.
"Don't pretend you have feelings now," Sephiroth says in a low voice, oblivious to anyone other than Cloud.
"Of course I do!" Cloud lays Aerith gently on the ground, pushing himself back to his feet and picking up his Buster Sword. Charlie watches through half-closed eyes, clinging to Cid. "Who do you think I am?"
Sephiroth laughs, but it isn't the friendly laughter that followed his teasing all those years ago. It is dark laughter, soft and vicious, mocking. "Stop pretending that you're sad," he chortles, the worst laughter she's ever heard in her life, "and there's no reason for you to act as if you're angry, as well."
He holds his arms out, rising from the ground slowly, looking down upon them all. Charlie hasn't taken the time to look around at her other friends, but she sees that they're all crying, or close to it. Even Vincent looks troubled, a crease between his eyebrows, and Cait Sith holds his head in his hands.
The moment Sephiroth shoots upwards, towards the blue-green surface, something falls to their feet, something that squirms and wriggles on the ground. It looks like some horribly twisted appendage, rotting and moving on its own, inching towards the edge of the altar until it falls right off the side, but it's the last thing anyone pays any attention to.
Cloud is quiet for a long time, looking down at Aerith. His cheeks look wet, but he takes care to hide his face from the majority of his friends before wiping it with the back of his hand. He props Aerith up against the wall, eyes closed now, mousy hair falling into her eyes.
Everyone takes care to say their last good-byes to Aerith. Charlie lingers, watching them fuss over her, adjust her hair, cry over her body. She waits for everyone to finish, almost feeling guilty for moving closer to her, urged along by a nudge in the back by Barret's gun-arm before he leaves the altar.
Cloud watches on as Charlie kneels at Aerith's side. She doesn't know what she feels. Her father's death had been horrible, and Tseng's had been infinitely worse, but at least she had time to say good-bye to him, to thank him, to tell him that she loved him.
It's difficult to see her pretty face through the tears in her eyes. Charlie wipes at them with her sleeve, unable to think of anything to say, of anything to do. An apology will go unheard, and she's hesitant to pick up one of her hands, not wanting to seem like she's crossing any boundaries.
So instead of talking to Aerith, Charlie turns her head to face Cloud. He meets her eyes with his own glowing ones. "I'm still in," she tells him hoarsely, "if you are."
Cloud is quiet for a long time. She doesn't even mind if he blames her for this, for Sephiroth, for everything. Slowly, he inclines his head, extending a hand to help her up.
Charlie takes it and, for a moment, just for a single fleeting moment that's gone before she can take the time to blink, she can almost feel Angeal's comforting presence wrap around her like a blanket, helping her to stand once more on her own two feet.
She must go on.
They stay the night in the City of the Ancients, in the collapsing building with the three beds.
He's amazed that Charlie can even sleep, considering how she had reacted to the Turk's death.
There's no fucking way he'll be getting any sleep tonight, even with Charlie's head nestled in the crook of his arm and the front of her body pressed against his side, breathing so softly that the only indication she's still alive is the warm breath she exhales against his neck.
Her left hand is resting comfortably on his chest, his heart beating furiously against her palm.
He thinks of the open abdomen of the Turk and the fear in his dark eyes as he lay dying, the blood on Aerith's dress and the smile on her face before her life was cut short, the scar on Charlie's neck that Vincent healed with ease. He thinks of Sephiroth, the famed and touted war hero, responsible for it all, responsible for taking away an innocent little flower girl before they were able to do anything, before they were able to save her.
When he closes his eyes, the only thing he can see is Sephiroth descending from the fucking heavens, sword slipping between Aerith's fucking bones like it was nothing.
When he opens them, he thinks a little more time has passed than a few seconds. Charlie hasn't moved an inch, and it scares him.
"Lottie," he whispers into her hair, giving her a little shake, squeezing his arm around her tighter. "Lottie."
Charlie moans softly, sounding slightly irritable when she huffs, "What?" without even opening her eyes. She shifts against him, but doesn't pull away.
"Nothin'," he sighs, letting his heart rest for a moment. "Go back to sleep. Sorry."
She's already asleep again before he apologizes. Cid can't help himself. He turns very slowly, keeping her wrapped up in the arm holding her to his chest, and using his free hand to brush her hair aside. The moonlight shines down through the open roof, illuminating the long scar on the side of her neck.
With the pad of his thumb, he traces the scar on her smooth skin, wanting to kiss it. It's a queer feeling for him, but doing so now probably wouldn't help things.
"It's okay, Cid," she tells him, and he pulls his hand away from her neck as quick as he can, blushing furiously in the night. "I'm right here."
"I know, honey." He smooths her hair back and presses his cheek to her temple. She feels feverish, but that could just be because he's practically smothering her with his body heat. "I know."
It's pouring rain in Kalm.
Reeve hurries to the door of the home Elmyra and Marlene are staying in, one hand holding his suit jacket over his head and the other hand holding a small bouquet of flowers.
It's not enough, he knows. It will never be enough.
When he enters through the front door, the both of them are seated at the kitchen table. Marlene is working on some school work while Elmyra sews the hem of a small blue dress. He doesn't want to disturb them, knowing that he's probably not the right person to tell Elmyra her daughter has been killed, but there's no one else around to do the job.
The both of them look up when he enters, and Marlene's bored expression is wiped from her face. She spills from her chair, pencils rolling off the table and clattering to the floor. Reeve stumbles as she tugs at his shirt, trying to pull him over to the table while he's still hanging his waterlogged jacket onto the coat rack.
Elmyra smiles at him from the table before lowering her eyes to her work again. Still clutching the flowers in his hand, he kneels down before Marlene and plucks a single yellow flower from the bouquet, offering it out to her.
"Why don't you go get yourself ready for bed?" he suggests in a soft voice, ruffling her hair as she accepts the flower eagerly. "I need to talk to Elmyra. I'll be up there in a few minutes to read you some books. Go pick some out."
"Okay," Marlene answers, taking her flower upstairs with her and leaving her work on the table and floor.
Elmyra falters, looking him up and down before her eyes settle warily upon the flowers in his hand. Reeve moves carefully towards her, pulling a chair closer so he's able to catch her in case she faints.
When he places the flowers upon the table, Elmyra purses her lips very tightly, tears welling up in her eyes. He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and sighing. When she shakes her head, seemingly already understanding before he's forced to open his mouth.
"I am so sorry, Elmyra," he rasps, and he is, Gods, he is. He's sorry for the callous way Aerith was taken away from them, sorry for the horrible ending that sweet girl had been forced to meet. "You have to believe that we did everything we could."
She closes her eyes, holding her hands up to cover her face. The moment his hand comes to rest on her shoulder, she breaks into heaving sobs, tears leaking through her fingers as her back jumps with each hiccup.
It occurs to him (and it is quite possibly the worst possible moment to remember this) that he hasn't been shown much affection, if any, since Charlie left. When Elmyra falls into him, sobbing into his chest, he has to take a minute to catch his breath.
He will tell her later how Sephiroth had done it, how Sephiroth had come from nowhere to interrupt Aerith's praying. She had looked so damned peaceful, even with a sword through her abdomen, even with her blood dripping from the end of the blade. She had looked so damned peaceful even as she sank to the bottom of the water in the City of the Ancients, long hair splayed out across the surface of the water until she disappeared beneath the surface.
For now, however, he will let her cry.
He's already rented a room at a local hotel in Junon by the time he arrives. He plans to sleep for as long as he can when he's done. It's been a long two days, the longest two days he's ever lived through in his life, and all the traveling has made him violently nauseous.
Reeve is dragging his feet by the time he makes it to the hospital, checks-in with the doctor, and makes his way back to Tseng's room.
He's forgone flowers for this particular visit, but Tseng seems to notice something is wrong the moment Reeve sets foot into the room, closing the door behind him.
Tseng closes the book in his hands, lying it down in his lap. He's sitting up today, looking better every day. Reeve hates that he has to deliver this news. Why couldn't it be someone else? Why couldn't it be anyone other than him? Why can't it be Veld telling Tseng this horrible news?
Truthfully, Reeve isn't certain how Tseng might react. The reaction is what he's most fearful of.
Thankfully, Tseng is far more perceptive than he sometimes lets on. "Is it Charlotte?" he asks, jaw set as he prepares for the answer.
Sighing, Reeve sits down in the empty chair at Tseng's bedside. "Aerith," he says apologetically.
Tseng looks at him for a long time, eyes roving his face, looking for something that might give it up as a joke. But it is certainly not a joke, and Reeve wishes he could take it back.
Turning his face away from Reeve and towards the window, Tseng doesn't speak for a long time, but the only thing he says afterwards, in a low and tremulous voice, is: "Okay."