"Hey, cat!" Barret says, as all eight of them spread out upon the bridge of the Highwind. "Tell Charlie we're leavin'. She's got twenty minutes to get her ass on this damn airship."
"Oh, about that . . ." Cait Sith speaks rather quietly, and Barret turns around to face the cat, frowning. "Charlie isn't coming with us."
"What are you talking about?" Yuffie scoffs, swinging her legs back and forth from
the little perch where Charlie typically sat, close to Vincent.
It seems to take Barret a second to register what's going on. His eyebrows are furrowed as he thinks, but then his face hardens and he approaches Cait Sith with a murderous look in his eyes. "The hell did you do to her?"
"No one did anything to her! Reeve is taking her to Kalm!" the cat continues hastily, holding his hands up in defense. Cid leans against the control panel of the Highwind, folding his arms over his chest. "It was her decision to stay! Barret, st—"
As Barret reaches out for the little robot's neck, Tifa rests a hand upon his bulky forearm, stopping him from doing anything too fucking stupid, like break the only connection they have left to Charlie.
"Thank you," Cait Sith says pointedly to Tifa, who continues in her attempt to calm Barret down. The cat wrings his hands anxiously, waiting for someone to break the tension.
With his breathing a little more steady, Barret looks to Cid for answers. "Did you know 'bout this?"
Cid hesitates, exchanging a sideways glance with Vincent, who looks suspiciously bored with the conversation. She must have told him, too. "Yeah," he answers, "I knew."
"She left without even saying good-bye?" Nanaki asks, huffing softly and looking back out towards Midgar.
"Look, the kid wanted a quiet and dignified exit, probably 'cause she knew you—" Cid gestures lazily towards Barret—"would give her shit 'bout stayin' behind with a bunch of Shinra suits."
Barret grumbles to himself, not even able to deny it. He rubs the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders. "You better take good care of that kid, cat, or you'll be hearin' from me."
"I'll tell her you said that," Cait Sith teases.
"Better fuckin' not!" Barret colors, cheeks darkening with embarrassment. He turns away from them all, one hand on his hip. "Guess we'll see her again when this is all over. Fuckin' president of Shinra Incorporated, huh . . . who would'a thought . . . 'bout time Shinra has a competent president. Too bad it's the end of the world . . ."
"How could she leave us like that?" Yuffie continues to complain loudly, drowning out the others' voices as they try and decide what the fuck to do next. "After all the time we spent together? I thought we were a family!"
"You're really gonna blame her for that?" Cid snorts, lighting a cigarette, despite being told several times before not to smoke on the bridge. It's his fucking airship, though, and he doesn't feel like walking out to the deck. "We ain't her family. She knows we all hate Shinra here. You think she'd rather spend her last days with us, or people she's known pretty much her whole fuckin' life?"
Barret frowns again, like he's deep in thought, considering Cid for a long time. So long that it starts to make him fidget under such scrutiny. "I thought you and Charlie . . . were . . . y'know . . ." He casts an apologetic look at Cait Sith, who remains silent.
Yeah, just fucking announce to her boyfriend that I was putting the fucking moves on Charlie, fucking moron. "It's not like I thought we were gonna get married, okay?" he hisses, cigarette between his lips. "I knew what I fuckin' signed up for."
Cid doesn't know if that's true. He didn't really sign up for anything at all. It all just seemed to happen and now she's gone again, but this time he knows that she cares about him, and this time he knows that it was all real.
Maybe that's why it doesn't hurt as badly this time. Just knowing that she loved him—and he knows she does, even if she refused to say it—is enough, enough to allow him the chance to move on for the first time in years.
So long as they're lucky enough to survive.
Reeve puts the car in park right outside the front doors of a dark building in Sector Eight.
It's been a silent ride, with not even the radio on to lighten the mood, in an undercover car that Tseng had allowed them to use. Without the Shinra logo on the sides, it may keep people from trying to stop them from leaving the city, he had told them, while giving Reeve the keys and pressing a kiss to Charlie's temple.
The only sounds are the soft rumbling of the engine, the rhythmic swishing of the windshield wipers, and the tapping of rain upon the top of the car.
She wants to ask what Rufus said to him, but finds that she doesn't have the courage. She doesn't want to know, and he clearly doesn't want to tell her. Besides, if Rufus had said something horrible, it's unlikely that Reeve would still be here, chauffeuring her around a chaos-ridden Midgar after midnight.
Reeve shuts the car off, and he's unbuckling his seatbelt when Charlie finally asks, "What are you doing?"
With one leg already out of the car, he pauses. "I just have to get a few things from my apartment. I'll just be a minute." And then, after another pause, he asks, "Do you want to come in?"
"Are you sure?"
He smiles exasperatedly at her. "Come on, Charlie."
The lobby is completely deserted, and they have to use a flashlight to light their way as they climb the stairs, but his apartment is only on the eighth floor, so it isn't an impossible climb (though it's far more stairs than she wants to climb, and she never wants to see stairs again in her life after this).
His place is not small, but it's certainly not the luxury thing their old apartment had been. Plenty of light filters in through the many windows so she's able to see well enough without any artificial light from the decorative lamps around the room.
Her first thought is that the place is very clean. There aren't any dishes in the sink or take-out food containers on the coffee table. Truthfully, the apartment hardly looks lived in at all. There's nothing on the walls, there aren't any pictures anywhere, or anything that might indicate this is even his apartment and not some stranger's home they're looting.
Her second thought pertains to the noticeable absence of Cat.
Charlie walks quietly through the kitchen and living room, past a half-opened door, behind which she can hear Reeve shuffling around within. She peeks inside to see him holding a small flashlight between his teeth as he unceremoniously throws some things into his bag. The room is set up like an office, with a little more of his personal effects on display.
She continues past the door to the end of the hallway, where there are two doors on either side. One is only the bathroom, but when she pushes open the other door, fumbling slightly in the darkness, she finds herself in his bedroom.
Once she opens the curtains, Meteor brightens the interior for her. This room is slightly more lived in, with a few ties thrown over the foot of the bed and some suit jackets hanging off a hook on the closet door. Whatever books he couldn't fit in his office seem to all be piled in here, stacked on the dresser by the television or on the floor in the corners of the room, all thick instruction and engineering books that would bore anyone else to tears.
Charlie knows she shouldn't look around, and knows that she doesn't have the right to look through his private things, but her curiosity gets the better of her. It hurts to think that he's been comfortable living here on his own, and she wonders if anyone else has seen the inside of this place. The thought makes her stomach roil unpleasantly.
There's nothing on his nightstand but a lamp, a bottle of water, and a digital clock that doesn't give the time with the power being out. She glances over her shoulder towards the empty threshold, biting down on her lower lip as she slides opens the drawer.
The drawer is filled with things. It holds a few small keys, all the small drawings of her that had been missing from her own apartment, photographs and—
She reaches into the drawer and picks up the engagement ring sitting pretty atop the small stack of photographs. It flashes and shines against the orange light that filters into the bedroom, ten carats of genuine diamond with the platinum band that she loved so much.
She doesn't hear him approach, only hears him clear his throat from behind her. Charlie jumps, turning around and blushing furiously, still holding the ring in her hands. "I'm sorry!" she breathes, placing the ring back in the drawer and shutting it quickly. "I'm so sorry. That was . . . wrong of me."
Reeve smiles weakly at her. "No, it's fine."
"It's a nice place." She holds her hands behind her back, still burning with embarrassment and looking around the bedroom. "It's very clean."
"I don't spend much time here, to be honest." He sets his bag and flashlight down on the end of the bed, opening the dresser and digging around inside. "I really only pay to sleep here."
"Where's Cat?" she asks.
Reeve hesitates, looking at her curiously while he lifts the small sweater over his head, leaving him clad in an undershirt that's still wet with rain and sweat. "I brought him to Kalm, for Marlene to care for. I didn't have the time for him, unfortunately." He turns back to the dresser, only to speak again. "Have you been back to your apartment since you left Costa del Sol?"
"Once, before Rufus and I left for Nibelheim. I thought you might be home, but when I got there . . ." Charlie admits, averting her eyes as he fishes some more clothes out of the drawers. "All of your things were gone."
He looks sorry about it, or close enough that it makes no matter to her. When he pulls a different sweater over his head, he ruffles his hair, and it feels so domestic that she could cry again. "You didn't really think I was going to stay there, did you?" he asks quietly, like the answer is so terribly obvious.
Charlie chooses not to answer that question. "I'll wait for you by the door."
Thankfully, Reeve doesn't make her wait very long. Within five minutes, they're heading back down the stairs again in silence. Charlie can't describe the uneasy feeling that settles over her, but when he opens the passenger-side door for her almost habitually, all of her fears and doubts about his feelings towards her are dispelled.
"Put your seatbelt on," he murmurs when she closes the door, and Charlie thinks it's best to comply with his wishes, watching him turn the key in the ignition. "Do you want to stop by your apartment?"
"No."
"No? All of your things are there. Surely there are some things you feel worth saving?"
"My apartment is on the top floor of the building," she replies flatly, picking at some lint on her pants. It would be nice to have some clothes that fit her. She had been forced to leave many of her outfits behind on the Highwind in order to bring her mother's things along. Truthfully, there are plenty of things that Charlie would like to get from her apartment, but none of those things are worth the massive undertaking that climb would be.
"We'll have Tseng get everything," Reeve smiles at her, as if having read her mind. "He can take a helicopter to the roof and save us the trip." He pauses, and Charlie wonders why he doesn't immediately drive away. "Are you ready?"
She thinks she understands, then. Is she ready? Shifting in her seat, she turns her body to face him, seated rather close together in the small car. It's something sporty, something that befits the dangerous Turk lifestyle. "Are we running away?" she asks.
"No," he says, but he doesn't sound entirely convinced himself. "If Meteor touches down, we'll all be going to the same place anyway, no matter where we are."
"But this is our home," Charlie protests, unsure of whether or not she wants to be convinced to stay. "This is our city. After everything, don't we owe it to the people to stay?"
"We've done all we can," Reeve replies, a little firmer this time. "I sent out a broadcast hours ago. Anyone who's still top-side is here by choice. I'm not sure how much protection the plate will offer them, but . . ."
It sounds cold and unlike him. She supposes he's only being realistic instead of instilling her with false hope. Charlie bites down on her lower lip, rolling it between her teeth. "Are you sure Aerith's mother will be all right with me staying?"
"Her name is Elmyra, and yes, I've told her about you before. Don't worry, it'll be fine."
"All good things, I hope?" she smiles shyly.
"Of course." His answer is far more serious than she expects or hopes. He looks at her for a long time, thinking hard. "I'll come back. Once I bring you to Kalm, I'll come back to Midgar—"
"No."
"Hm?"
"I don't want you to do that," she tells him, blushing. "Either I'm staying here with you, or we stay in Kalm together. It doesn't matter to me where I die, so long as I'm with you." After hearing the words spoken aloud, she adds, "If you want to be with me, I mean."
Reeve purses his lips, and for a moment, Charlie thinks he's going to argue with her. But then he smiles weakly and puts the car into gear, looking at her one last time before pulling out into the street. "To Kalm it is."
Just before Midgar disappears into the night, Charlie turns around in her seat to look back one last time. Reeve glances up at the rearview mirror, trying to see the darkened cityscape, but they've driven too far now to see it clearly. The only thing that's clearly visible is the silhouette of the destroyed Shinra Building, basking in the glow of Meteor.
He thinks she might be content to keep quiet the rest of the trip, but after turning back around and settling back against her seat, she asks him, "What did you love most about Midgar?"
It's a fair question. To be fair, it isn't something he's thought about much. It's not like he's ever had the luxury of time, the ability to stop and admire every street corner or drink at every bar, and it's this that makes him feel a sudden pang of loss, the loss of everything he still had yet to do.
"I suppose . . ." Reeve tries to remember his first days in the city, and how it had felt to stand among buildings that stretched towards the sky at staggering heights and feel so small. "The opportunities, like the ability to become a part of something . . . bigger. Even poor little country boys like me."
He doesn't think anyone has ever asked him this. It's difficult to explain, and sad to think about.
The road to Kalm is not as empty as he would have liked, but he isn't about to complain about it. Traffic only flows towards Kalm, however, while the other side of the road remains empty. No one is going back to Midgar now, not on the verge of the apocalypse. At least all the noise and light will keep monsters away.
It suddenly occurs to him that it might have been easier to have taken a ride on the Highwind. They would have been at Kalm by now, but when Reeve really thinks about it, he much prefers traveling alone with Charlie than subjecting himself to the most awkward meeting he might ever have the displeasure to experience.
"You never talk about your childhood much," Charlie notes, not unkindly, but as casually as one would remark upon the sunshine. "Don't you ever think about going home again?"
"Midgar is my home," he answers, certain about that much, at least.
"Do you want to know what I loved the most about Midgar?"
"Tell me."
Charlie looks forward, being jostled slightly by the bumpy road, but uncomplaining. "I loved the city at night. Standing up high, on the top floors of the Shinra Building, on the balcony of our apartment . . . and all the lights flickering on one by one, an entire city coming to life when the sun sets," she says softly, smiling to herself. "All of those people, all of their lives and families and friends . . . Shinra gave them that."
"That's a good answer," he tells her, and to his pleasure, she turns her head and smiles a tired little smile at him. "Better than mine, anyway. Now I'm embarrassed. Let me change my answer."
"No, it's too late now," she teases, but he can tell her heart isn't in it. "You already gave your answer. Changing it now wouldn't seem genuine."
"What do you mean?" he laughs. "You haven't even heard my new answer yet. How can you be so sure?"
"All right." Charlie's head is resting against the back of her seat, but she's looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, blinking slowly. "Tell me what your new answer is."
"The people," he says, remembering moments spent looking out the windows of his office, looking down upon his little kingdom and the city he helped build. "The community, and their resilience in the face of disaster. The knowledge that I have contributed to bettering their lives, to making them comfortable within the city."
She doesn't answer him, but when he glances sideways to make sure she's still awake, it's to find her still looking at him with a small smile on her face.
It makes him blush. "What?"
"Nothing." She shakes her head and turns away, looking out the window. "I think I'm just tired."
"You shouldn't keep secrets, darling," Reeve chides her light-heartedly. "You don't want Meteor to reach us and have regrets, do you?"
"I don't have any secrets from you anymore," she answers, sighing heavily. "Besides, it's not that. It's . . ." Charlie turns to face him again, such a sweet sight that he has a hard time keeping his eyes ahead of him. "What if Elmyra and Marlene don't like me?"
"Why wouldn't they like you?"
She gives him a look that very clearly communicates what she wants to say without requiring her to say it.
"Charlotte, I've told Elmyra about you before. She knows very well what you've been up to these last few weeks. I think she'll be very happy to meet you, and I want you to meet Marlene. I think it will be good for her to have you around these next few days."
Charlie seems surprised by this. "What? Why me?"
Reeve looks at her again, smiling. "Well, you know how she feels. She misses Barret."
"Oh." Her eyes widen in comprehension, and she lapses into a long silence. It's another ten minutes or so until she feels the need to speak again. "You've been spending a lot of time with them, have you?"
"When I was able to sneak away from Midgar and the company, yes," he admits, half-expecting her to launch into some jealous tirade, but she doesn't seem to have the energy. It would be almost reassuring to see some shadow of her former self.
But it seems Charlotte is full of surprises now. "I'm sorry that I never told you about Rufus." She's teary-eyed, and the words sound forced from her, like she still doesn't want to admit it. "I was afraid of him. I was so afraid that he would hurt you."
"Oh," he says stupidly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable hearing her apologize for her brother. "You don't have to apologize for that. I don't . . . it's not your fault."
She scoffs. "I was the one that started the whole thing, when we were children."
"Fooling around as children is not the same as what Rufus knowingly did to you as adults." This is the last conversation he wants to have with her right now, but Reeve knows it may be the last chance they have to talk about it at all. He chooses not to tell her that Rufus very probably does love her in his own way, but just doesn't know how to show it. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Cait Sith."
Charlie laughs very quietly. "You know, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't seem like a big deal," she says, shrugging her shoulders.
After that, they're quiet the rest of the time, though she does fiddle with the radio, trying to find a satellite station that isn't static.
The music is welcome, and she even sings along under her breath, humming when she doesn't know the words, staring out the window as they continue towards Kalm.
The streets of Kalm are quiet.
It's nearing three o'clock in the morning now, and the sleepy town seems stuck in a time long forgotten.
Reeve drives them through the center of town, where the road circles around a cobblestoned plaza. There are no traffic lights here, but yellow street lamps light their way. All of the houses look the same, just like in Midgar, but the architecture here doesn't rely so much on steel beams and pipes, not needing half as much mako as Shinra's glorious city of Midgar.
The house is a bit out of the way, on the outskirts of the town and away from the city center. It's dark inside all of the windows, and too dark outside for her to properly discern what the exterior of the house looks like, but she can see that it's two stories, a narrow thing with a gable roof and a chimney.
Reeve climbs out of the car, but Charlie hesitates, lingering in the passenger seat. She looks up at the house again, not entirely convinced that her presence won't cause Elmyra any grief. After all, isn't it Shinra's fault that Aerith is dead? Didn't Shinra start this whole mess? What right does she have to be here? What right does she have to intrude upon a makeshift family, made up of Elmyra and Barret's small daughter?
She ends up gathering the courage to follow him to the front door, her bag slung over her shoulder. Reeve digs around in his pockets for a key, slipping it into the door.
"You're just going to walk in?" she asks, eyes wide.
He gives her a bewildered look, turning the doorknob and pushing the door open. "Well, I'm certainly not going to knock at this hour," he answers, flipping the lights on the foyer and closing the door behind Charlie as she moves slowly inside.
To her left is a fully furnished living room with the fireplace to match the chimney, and to her right is the kitchen, a wide room with a table big enough to comfortably sit four. There are no personal effects anywhere, no pictures hanging on the paneled walls or books stacked on the shelves, but flowers are everywhere.
There are several decorative vases wherever there's an empty space, filled with colorful flowers that aren't found anywhere near the city. She brushes her fingertips over a few purple ones, their petals soft to the touch.
A hardwood staircase is at the opposite end of the foyer, and while she can see up it, the hallway continues to the left and right behind walls, and she isn't offered a view of the bedrooms.
Reeve must recognize the anxiety that surely shows on her face. "It's fine, Charlie, just try to keep quiet. Marlene is a light sleeper."
As if on cue, she hears the creaking of a door from upstairs and the slow pitter-patter of childish feet. Reeve curses softly, dropping his bag by the front door as a dark-haired, little girl comes wandering sleepily down the topmost steps, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles and clutching the banister with her free hand.
"Reeve?" comes her voice, soft and tired and shy.
Marlene makes her way further down the stairs, swaying from side-to-side as if she's sleepwalking. She's a sweet-looking girl with wide doe eyes, a round face and a button nose, with dark hair that sticks up on one side from sleeping on it.
He turns to face Charlie, lowering his voice and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Make yourself at home," he urges gently, taking a step backwards towards Marlene. "Let me just put her back to bed and I'll be right back down."
Charlie wraps her arms around herself and forces herself to smile, her heart bursting with affection. "Okay."
He meets Marlene at the foot of the stairs, chiding her teasingly for being out of bed and scooping her into his arms before she can get any closer to or stare any longer at Charlie. She can hear their whispered conversation as Reeve climbs the stairs, skinny little arms wrapped around his neck and a pink cheek resting on his shoulder.
"She's prettier than you said," Marlene tells him in a hushed voice, yawning against his neck.
"I know," Reeve answers placidly, "but let's leave her alone right now, all right?"
Once he turns the corner at the top of the stairs, Charlie can't hear what they're saying anymore, but her heart still softens all the same. Those aren't the actions of a little girl who has been kidnapped and mistreated, like Barret worried about for so long.
It makes her sad, too, the fact that she may miss out on having a family of her own, the fact that she may miss out on seeing him dote over a young daughter of their own.
It makes her think of Veld, and the nights that he would carry her inside the villa after a long day spent at the beach, tucking her into bed with her hair still stiff from the salt water.
She inspects the living room first, pleased to see it slightly more cluttered and homey. This is where much of Marlene's things are kept, it seems, schoolbooks and packets of paper, colorful drawings and boxes of crayons and story books about princesses and dragons.
There's a picture on the coffee table that must be Marlene's interpretation of Elmyra. When she picks it up, there's another drawing of Reeve, and another drawing of three half-familiar stick-figures holding hands, one of them with long hair and another with a gun on his right arm.
She jumps when she feels something brush very lightly against her ankle, putting the pictures back down in a hurry. Holding back a scream, Charlie whirls around to find a black-and-white tuxedo cat curling around her leg, tail raised high in the air to swipe against her knee.
"Cat!" she breathes, dropping to her knees and startling him for a moment, but he comes to her again when she holds a hand out.
He purrs loudly, nuzzling against her face, receptive to her loving touches, darting behind the sofa and out of sight at the sound of Reeve's footsteps growing closer and closer down the staircase.
Leaving Cat to his own devices, happily stalking her from between the sofa and the wall, Charlie sighs and smiles awkwardly at Reeve.
She doesn't know what to say. The idea that he's been making a little family of his own is enough to make her heart race. How often had he gone out of his way to come here? To care for them? To look after them? How much time has he given them that he's never given her?
I was too much, she can't help but think, I was always too much for him, he was just too polite to break my heart.
"Sorry about that," he says with a nervous laugh, running his fingers through his hair. It just falls right back into his face.
"No, it's fine," she forces herself to say, lowering her eyes. "Duty calls."
"Are you hungry?"
She's starving, actually, but doesn't think she would be able to hold any food down. Lifting her eyes again just to see his face again, she replies, "No, thank you."
"Okay." Reeve gestures towards the foyer with his chin, and Charlie follows him out of the living room, watching him stoop to pick his bag back up. "You can sleep in my room tonight. You'll have to forgive me if it's a bit messy. I'll show you where—"
"Oh, no, I couldn't—" She stops abruptly, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "I can make myself comfortable on the sofa."
"Don't be ridiculous—"
"I insist," she says again. "I was sleeping on the ground for weeks. A sofa is just as good as a bed, and probably far better than any bed aboard the Highwind."
"If Elmyra finds out that I've taken the bed while you're here, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Don't worry. I'll just explain to her that I bullied you into submission. She'll believe that of a Shinra, wouldn't she?"
The words are far more bitter than she intended them to be, and it wipes the small smile off Reeve's face almost instantly. He seems taken aback by her answer, and Charlie immediately regrets saying it, flushing head to toe.
"Charlie . . ." he begins, looking troubled by the implication of her words. "If you're not comfortable here, we can go somewhere else."
"No, no, I don't want to make you—" She feels half a child in front of him, throwing a jealous tantrum while the world is ending. "No, this is fine."
Really, she wants to go home, but she doesn't know where home is. She supposes her home is on the topmost floor of a tall building in Midgar, overlooking Sector Eight in all of its glory. Her father's home is a place she would rather avoid, and the villa is all the way in Costa del Sol.
I have nothing without the company, she thinks. I have nowhere to go, I have no money with me, I have no power, and I have to rely on people who don't even know me, people that have been wronged by Shinra.
Reeve clears his throat, glancing down at his watch. "Do you want to have a drink? I know it's late, but . . . I think I could spare a little more time, all things considered."
"A drink sounds great, actually," Charlie admits. A little alcohol might put her at ease. "Do you have a stocked liquor cabinet here?"
To her surprise, he laughs, albeit quietly. "I was thinking something more along the lines of tea, but liquor works."
She seats herself at the kitchen table while Reeve rummages around in the pantry, retrieving a few bottles and holding them up for her approval. She chooses an expensive whiskey she knows to be produced in a distillery in Midgar's Sector One.
He fills her glass until it's half-full, and then does the same for himself. With a clink! of their glasses, they drink.
"You know, you still haven't told me about outer space," he tells her, sounding genuinely interested in hearing about it. "You should be very proud."
"I suppose I am," she says.
The launch had been terrific, and being there with Cid had been everything she had ever dreamed of once, but something had been missing. The dream had come true, but long after she had given up on it and made new goals and dreamed up new dreams.
"Sorry for making you drive all the way out here so late," she continues, afraid of another uncomfortable silence between them.
"It's fine. I've been doing a lot of traveling lately. I don't know how you did it."
She smiles shyly at him across the table. "You get used to it."
The alcohol has already helped. It's warm down her throat, heat pooling in her stomach. It drives the tension out of her spine and shoulders, temporarily makes her forget about Meteor while she stops to appreciate this quiet moment between them.
Charlie looks down at her glass, tracing the lip of it with her index finger, her other hand curled around it. A few more long drinks and she might pass out right here in this chair, though it likely wouldn't be a good first impression if Elmyra came downstairs in the morning to find the vice president of Shinra asleep with her forehead on the kitchen table, reeking of whiskey.
"I saw the picture Marlene drew of you," she giggles, glad to have something to latch onto as far as conversation, glad it makes him smile. "The likeness is striking, truly. I really think she nailed the beard."
"Yeah?" he laughs, combing it with his fingers. "As it happens, I am an excellent model. I think it's just that . . . indescribable quality."
That makes Charlie laugh, too. It's real laughter that makes her chest bloom with sudden warmth, but it immediately makes her feel guilty.
She knows there are serious conversations that they need to have, that they'll end up dancing around until Meteor collides with the planet. She knows there are serious things she needs to apologize for, but the words get caught in her throat when she even just considers saying them.
She drinks deep again, finishing off her glass. It's been a long time since she's had alcohol this good. Her head is already buzzing.
"What's wrong?" he asks, lowering his glass back to the table. Charlie quickly rearranges her features, but Reeve has already caught on. "It's all right. Tell me."
"I just . . . want to thank you," she starts lamely, sighing as she fumbles for words, "for what you did for Tseng, and Rufus, and Veld. And I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you." Charlie looks towards the stairs, wanting to cry. "And what you're doing for Elmyra and Marlene . . ."
Reeve is quiet, but it gives her a moment to think and gather her thoughts. She knows that all he did for the people she loved was not for her. She knows him, and knows for a certainty that all he did, he did out of the goodness of his heart.
How could she ever thank him properly? She has and is nothing, has only ever caused him grief and hardship, frustration and conflict. It would have been the ultimate kindness to stay far, far away from him from the beginning. But she had been too selfish, too greedy, too desperate for him to love her, and she had been young and sickeningly in love and unaccustomed to such sweet and tender devotion.
Even Cid wouldn't have gone out of his way to save Rufus or Tseng, and Charlie had known that. When he told her he loved her aboard the Highwind, he hadn't understood the implication and the scope of his words. Cid wouldn't have tried to return for her brother, wouldn't have hidden Tseng somewhere safe.
Charlie clears her throat, pushing her glass away. "I think I'm just going to try and get some sleep."
"Please take the bedroom," he urges again, gently. "Or I'll be forced to carry you there myself."
Feeling bold, she tells him, "You could just come to bed with me."
There's a moment's hesitation as he holds the cup back up to his face, like he hadn't quite heard her properly. Reeve sighs, finishing his drink and smiling exasperatedly. "I love you, Charlie, I do," he says, "but what would that say about me?"
Charlie looks away, blushing hard.
"I know why you left, and I understand. Truly, I understand why, and I'm not angry about it. There are far more important things to worry about, and I know that your intentions were good. I don't blame you for the way your brother reacted." He's so patient and level and calm, and Charlie thinks this may be infinitely worse than being yelled at. "But I was forced to watch you and Cid grow close to each other for weeks, and . . . I don't know, I guess you just made me feel like a fool."
"It was never my intention to hurt you—"
"But you did," he protests, still smiling in a condescending way that sets her blood to boiling. "And I believe you—I'm sure that none of it was done maliciously, and I—" Reeve shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "I should have been there. I should have given you more of my time, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry if you felt that I let you down, or hurt you in any way, and I'm sorry if I was . . . jealous of . . . I didn't realize what Tseng meant to you, and for that, I apologize."
Charlie doesn't stop him, but she doesn't really think he owes her an apology for anything.
"And I'm sorry for spying on you, and for lying. There's a lot of things I'm sorry for."
"Me too," she says, though it isn't enough.
"Why are you here? Why did you even come back?"
The answer comes easily to her. "Because I wanted to be with you. Because I missed you. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. Because I love you. And I know that 'sorry' will never be enough to make up for what I've done to you."
Reeve's hands jump to his face, rubbing his eyes and looking half-asleep.
"I shouldn't even be here." She begins to panic, heart beating hard and fast against her chest. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you like this, and you've been so kind and accommodating—"
He smiles at her, shaking his head. "Charlie, stop panicking. I want you here."
Charlie can't believe that. She isn't worth this kindness. She isn't worth this love. "I know that I don't hold the power that I used to," she says to him, "but if I could do anything for you right now, what would you ask of me?"
He thinks for a long time, elbows propped on the table, chin resting upon his knuckles. "It's not just us in this house, so for the sake of Marlene, I think I just want things to be normal until the planet is destroyed, or Meteor is gone."
That doesn't seem so unreasonable. He isn't asking for a future with her, isn't asking her to beg for his forgiveness, isn't asking for anything other than comfort in these last few days.
"Okay," she whispers, unsure as to what she's agreeing to, and how far he's willing to take things.
He seems to regret it, but doesn't rescind his request. Instead, he stands up and closes the bottle of whiskey, bringing their glasses to the sink. "It's late," he notes, "we should get to bed."
His bedroom is cramped, but not because it's too small, he just has too many things inside. There's a desk against the far wall with two monitors and a lot of wires tangled at the base, while a bed has been shoved against another wall. Reeve hurriedly picks up the clothes off the ground, shoving them into his dresser and his closet and his hamper.
"Sorry," he mutters, wiping some crumbs off the bed and blushing, "I tell Marlene all the time not to eat in my bed, but . . . she's five, so . . ."
Charlie laughs weakly. "It's okay. She's very taken with you, isn't she?"
Reeve colors, standing back up to his full height. "She's just lonely, I think, and misses her father." He looks around the room and then fixes his gaze on her, as if nervously awaiting her approval. "Do you need clothes? You can wear some of mine tonight, if you'd like."
Through the window behind him, Charlie catches sight of Meteor, still a ways away in the distance, but growing closer all the while. She drops her bag onto the ground (as carefully as she can, with her mother's things inside), leaning forward to fall into him, hoping that he doesn't recoil or pull away from her. With her arms around his middle, she buries her face into his chest, sobbing.
Oh, is the only thought that springs to the forefront of her mind when his arms snake around her, holding her close.
Home.