Charlie wakes the next morning to the bedroom door opening. When she opens her eyes, her body aching and exhausted, it's to find that it's barely dawn.
"Reeve," comes Marlene's soft little voice, and Charlie watches through half-opened eyes as she gives his shoulder a slight shake, "I'm hungry. Will you make me breakfast?"
He groans quietly, slightly muffled with his face pressed against the t-shirt Charlie's wearing. "I'm up, I'm up," he murmurs groggily, still being shaken. "I'll be downstairs in a minute."
When the door opens and closes again, Reeve makes no move to get out of bed. Charlie, as tired as she is from only a few hours of sleep, combs her fingers through the back of his hair, the arm that's underneath his pillow tingling uncomfortably, but she doesn't want to move and break the spell.
She wants to kiss him all over, just like she did before all of this. Quiet mornings between the two of them, lips touching warm skin, everywhere she could reach, everywhere that was available to her to kiss.
After another minute of lying so still that he could be dead, he sighs again, propping himself on an elbow and running his hand through his hair.
It feels like it's been a long time since she's seen him upon waking, and the sight is still as sweet now as it had been the last time, even if he is fully clothed. He rolls over and must notice what time it is, because another groan escapes him.
Charlie reaches out to scratch lazily at his back, listening to his joints pop when he rolls his shoulders. When she pulls her hand away and closes her eyes again, she can feel him shifting on the bed, but he doesn't get up immediately.
Her eyes flutter open again when his fingers brush her hair aside, revealing the long, ugly, pink scar on her neck. Charlie tries desperately to hide it, pinching Reeve's fingers between her cheek and shoulder when he tries to touch it.
"Don't," she whispers.
"Just let me see it." He pulls his fingers away, looking down at her through the dark hair that's fallen into his eyes.
"You've seen it already."
"Through Cait Sith. Let me see it for myself. It's my fault that you were put in that position in the first place."
Charlie doesn't think that at all, and doesn't blame him in the slightest. How was he supposed to know the chain of events that would follow his actions at the Gold Saucer? There was no possible way to anticipate Sephiroth trapping them in a room within the bowels of the temple, leaving behind a gory mess.
She looks up at him for a long time before relaxing her shoulders and opening her neck to him, pushing her hair back. Sometimes the scar tissue feels tight when she turns her head, and she blushes furiously, able to feel his eyes burning a hole through her flesh. She lets her eyes close, not wanting to see the expression on his face, not wanting to see his reaction to her imperfections.
The feeling of his thumb brushing along the scar makes her heart race and her breath hitch. Charlie keeps her eyes shut tight, the pad of his thumb reaching the very end of it, hovering just beside her pulse and likely able to feel it pounding.
"Open your eyes, Charlie. Look at me."
His voice is low and hoarse, and it's not a command, but more of a desperate plea. When she obeys, it's to find a troubled expression on his tired face.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For handing you over to Tseng. I'm the reason you were there, at the Temple of the Ancients. I'm the reason you have this scar."
Charlie shakes her head, taking hold of his hand and turning it over to place a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist. "It's okay. It's not your fault."
If I hadn't run away, none of this would have happened. We would still be happy together.
He urges her to sleep for as long as she likes, dressing clumsily in the darkness and slipping out of the bedroom to tend to Marlene. It's sweet and makes her heart swell again before the longing sets in, the pain and guilt and thoughts of what-ifs.
She's exhausted, but with the end of the world potentially only days away, every moment she isn't doing something feels like a complete waste.
When Charlie blinks, the sun is shining and a few hours have passed without her even realizing it. She's still in the same position she had been when Reeve left the room, staring at the closed door and listening to the sounds coming from the floor below, the sizzling of food and the clanking of pots and pans and dishes, the scraping of chairs against hardwood floors. She can smell bacon cooking, and she can hear the muffled, high-pitched voice of Marlene talking over everyone else, insisting on helping with breakfast.
It reminds her of her childhood, and she half-expects Veld to knock on the door at any moment, to poke his head in and make sure she's awake and getting ready for school. Foolishly, she waits for the knock, for the scary old Turk to return to her bedroom and help pick out clothes for her in the dark.
When Charlie chooses to abandon her childish hopes and dreams, she sits up and looks around at the bedroom while it's cast in sunlight.
It's far more lived in than his apartment, and that fact makes her sad. She knows she has no right to be upset over what he chose to do, or where he chose to go, or who he chose to be with after she left, but it still hurts.
After ultimately deciding not to go through his things again, Charlie pulls the only clothes out of her bag, clothes she wishes were nicer and cleaner. She doesn't want to make a bad impression, but a t-shirt with WUTAI emblazoned across the chest and tight leggings certainly aren't going to make a good impression.
At least she had been given a chance to shower last night, no longer covered in soot and dirt and sweat and blood.
She hadn't even recognized herself upon catching sight of her reflection. It had thrown her into a violent episode of self-loathing, and she had cried quietly into her hands while the scalding hot water had turned her skin pink and raw, mourning the loss of her entire future with the big red omen in the sky drawing nearer.
With her heart racing, Charlie makes her slow descent down the stairs, on the verge of vomiting all over herself and ruining the only decent outfit she's brought with her.
As she reaches the bottom, she hesitates just before the archway that will lead her into the kitchen, wiping her sweaty hands on her thighs.
It's just like when she started traveling with Avalanche, and the way they all made her so nervous, like she was an outsider, looking in on a happy family and knowing she would never be a part of that family.
But she can do this. She's been forced to wear a smile her entire life, and if Reeve wants her to pretend for Marlene's sake, then she will. But putting on a fake persona doesn't mean her nerves settle.
Her resolve wavers upon being greeted by the scene in the kitchen, so picturesque that she doesn't want to even disturb them with her presence.
Reeve sits at the kitchen table, flipping through a newspaper and humming distractedly to Marlene as she chatters on about what she and Elmyra had seen on their walk the other day, coloring a picture as she waits for her breakfast to be served.
Elmyra is a woman that can't be more than ten years older than Reeve, her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun, a stern and severe look to her face that isn't at all unkind. She hovers over the stove with a pink apron tied around her, looking at complete ease.
Her first thought is, they were never his hostages.
Her second thought makes her panic, frozen on the spot.
How easy it is to see herself as Marlene. It's an embarrassing thought that Reeve might pity the little girl. To pity Marlene is to pity her, isn't it?
Marlene lifts her eyes and spots Charlie in the threshold, eyes going wide. "Reeve," she whispers in a sing-song voice.
"I'm listening, darling," he answers sleepily, never looking away from his newspaper, his back to Charlie.
"Reeve," she says again, this time more sharply and tugging at his sleeve.
"Marlene, what is it?" he asks, lowering the paper and turning in his chair to follow her line of sight. "Oh!"
Charlie wraps her arms around herself, smiling weakly as Reeve gets to his feet. Even Elmyra turns around, not quite looking surprised to see an extra guest, but still looking slightly nervous. He approaches Charlie quickly, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the table.
"Charlotte, this is Elmyra Gainsborough, Aerith's mother," Reeve says, inclining his head towards her. "Elmyra, this is Charlotte Shinra."
"It's so good to finally meet you." It sounds genuine enough coming from Elmyra, and the anxiety that had been nearly unbearable just a moment ago is washed away the moment both Elmyra and Marlene smile at her. "I'm glad to see that you're safe, Madam Vice President."
"Likewise," Charlie replies, looking sideways at Reeve. "And you don't have to . . . address me as the vice president."
"Reeve's told us all about you, Charlie," Marlene tells her eagerly, and Reeve immediately blushes, clearing his throat. "And he said that you—"
"Okay," he mutters, raising his eyebrows at Marlene, who looks away innocently, "that's enough, Marlene."
Charlie cocks an eyebrow at the girl, unable to keep a small smile at bay. "You know, Marlene, your father told me a lot about you, as well. And Reeve told me that you've been taking very good care of Cat while we've been busy. It was such a relief to know that he was in good hands."
Marlene brightens at this praise, looking at Reeve with an expression of pure delight. The hand on the small of her back slides up her spine until his fingers are curled around her shoulder, squeezing anxiously. Whether or not he does it knowingly, Charlie isn't certain, but he draws her slightly closer to him and her heart nearly explodes.
"Are you hungry, Charlotte?" Elmyra asks her, and it's then that Charlie notices a fourth plate at the table.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh," Elmyra smiles, casting her gaze towards a very uncomfortable Reeve. "You didn't tell us how polite she was, Reeve."
"Forgot that bit, did you?" Charlie teases him, the hand not on her shoulder jumping to the back of his flushed neck.
"I never had a chance to introduce it organically into conversation, that's all."
Marlene sits upon her knees in her chair, hands splayed on the tabletop. "Is it true you went to outer space, Charlie? Reeve said you built a rocket ship and took it to outer space. Is it true?"
"Oh, well—" It's Charlie's turn to blush furiously, which seems to make Reeve smile mockingly, all in good fun. "I didn't really build it. I only helped draw up the plans and oversaw—"
"She's being modest," Reeve interrupts quickly. "I don't think she slept for weeks at a time during the development stages. It was a beautiful rocket."
"Reeve, please," she whispers, unable to blush any harder. Elmyra smiles and turns back towards the stove, but Marlene continues to watch them closely, very interested in their interaction. "You're being too generous. You're embarrassing me."
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You should be very proud."
Marlene is very interested, however, in hearing all about Charlie's brief trip into outer space, and she finds that conversation comes quiet easily with Reeve at her side, prompting her and encouraging her to continue talking. The girl is inquisitive and eager to ask about everything, curious to know all there is about Charlie, talking at length about Barret and Tifa.
Elmyra's cooking is excellent, as well, though she isn't sure if it's because she's become so accustomed to eating meat roasted over a fire or cheap food bought from some vending machine inside an inn. Charlie eats slowly, still nervous about the interrogation she's being subjected to, and even as Marlene continues to talk and talk and talk, Reeve mouths sorry, an apologetic little smile on his face.
She shrugs her shoulders, holding his gaze for a moment before turning back towards Marlene.
For fifteen minutes, it's nothing but, Charlie, guess what? and Charlie, Reeve told me this and Reeve told me that and Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.
But she doesn't mind. She answers each of Marlene's questions, all of them light-hearted and excited, and Charlie is patient with her and glad to be around people who want her around. Besides, she's sure she was the same way as a child, a little bit annoying with her inability to stop talking and with a desire to impress anyone who might be listening.
When Reeve deems Marlene's questions far too personal (beginning to stray towards things like Charlie's romantic history with Reeve), he calls an abrupt end to breakfast, appeasing the girl by offering to take her downtown while he picks some things up for Charlie.
"Can Charlie come with us, too?" Marlene asks, still wearing her pajamas and inching towards the stairs, eager to dress and leave the house. "She can come, can't she?"
"Er—" Reeve hesitates, meeting Charlie's eyes again. "It might be best if Charlie stayed here. There's a lot more people in Kalm than before, and we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, do we?"
"I guess not," Marlene hums.
"Go get dressed," he tells her quickly, and Marlene sprints up the stairs without another word.
He doesn't own much casual clothing, as he's never had much use for it. He was always either at the Shinra Building, out to a nice restaurant or the theater with Charlie, or at some company gathering that required them to dress to the nines.
Even without a tie to compliment the most casual-looking dress shirt he owns, Reeve still has a horrible feeling that he's going to stand out too much among the refugees that have come all the way from Midgar.
If no one pays any attention to the perfect fit of his tailored shirt, his golden watch is a dead giveaway, slightly hidden underneath his sleeve, but he doesn't want to take it off. Charlie had given it to him as a birthday gift a few years ago, and he likes this watch.
His shoes are another clue, as well, that point towards him being someone important—no, he was someone important—was he ever important?—and may draw a few curious looks, but it's not like he had brought all of his shoes here from Midgar.
The last thing he wants is for a group of refugees that are bitter about Shinra's lack of response to Weapon's attack to find out Charlie is staying in town. It's not like it's her fault that Shinra had failed them, and Reeve doesn't really believe that, anyway. Rufus had destroyed Weapon before it could completely demolish the city, which was an incredible feat in itself, and without help from the other executives, he and Rufus and the Turks had done what they could, which was far more than nothing.
He feels sorry for Charlie, however. He had seen the nervous smile on her face as she gave patient answers to just about all of Marlene's sharp questions, perfectly kind and sweet and warm. It reminded him of their visits to the orphanage, and how much she loved being with the kids, and how much those kids loved being with her.
Maybe he's asking too much of her.
Maybe he shouldn't have brought her here, or asked her to play along with his little game, his own selfish and wishful and indulgent fantasy to comfort Marlene during these last few days.
Maybe he shouldn't have slept in bed with her. That was a horrible idea and he'll admit it, but the promise of falling asleep next to someone who loves him had been far too tempting to ignore.
One week. According to Bugenhagen's own predictions, there is one week until Meteor hits. One week until this planet is either saved by Holy or destroyed by Meteor.
Seven days until the end, and he isn't going to waste any of that time dancing around Charlie, refusing to touch her, treating her poorly because of misguided decisions she had made, especially when most of those decisions were in the hopes of shielding him from harm.
Cloud has given everyone leave to visit loved ones, family, and friends before the final showdown, which means that Barret will be here soon to see his daughter, to finally come face-to-face with the man who kidnapped her.
The thought makes Reeve nervous, and with Rufus, Tseng, and Veld still in Midgar, unable to move the president to Kalm quite yet, there is nowhere else for he and Charlie to go while Barret is here. They could return to Midgar, yes, but the city lacks power and the upper plate doesn't seem like the safest place to be in the world right now.
By the time he shaves and does his hair, Marlene is already done getting dressed. He can hear her in the kitchen talking to Elmyra, and he's smoothing out the few wrinkles in his shirt as he walks a few feet into the kitchen, freezing in place at the scene he's intruded upon.
It's not Elmyra in the kitchen, but Charlie, too engrossed in her current task to notice him standing there stupidly, her face turned away from him. The front of her touristy t-shirt is wet, clearly having been in the middle of doing the dishes before having her attention taken away.
Right now, Charlie's in the middle of braiding Marlene's dark hair in a complicated sort of way, working her own kind of magic with her deft and nimble fingers without faltering. Marlene stands still as a statue, waiting patiently for her hair to be finished.
"How do you like living in Kalm?" Charlie asks, and Reeve takes a step backwards to try and remove himself a little from their peripheral view, should they turn slightly and catch him watching.
"I miss Midgar," Marlene admits softly.
It's a vulnerability that Marlene typically doesn't like to show in front of him, always putting on a brave face like he's the one who needs to be comforted. Perhaps having a younger woman around to talk to Marlene was a good idea after all. Charlie is so warm and maternal around children, and when they had taken trips to the orphanages, the kids had warmed up to her instantly. Perhaps it's the same with Marlene.
"I do, too," Charlie sighs, twisting the ends of Marlene's hair together. "But Kalm isn't so bad. At least there are flowers here, and it's much quieter than the city."
"Are you and Reeve going to leave us? Are you going to go back to Midgar?"
Reeve waits for her answer with baited breath, but Charlie answers rather quickly and sweetly, like she's already had this answer prepared for months. "Not until your father is back," she says, a proficient liar even now, but he's glad for it. "We can't stay here forever, you know."
"When is Daddy going to come home?"
This time, there's a fraction of a second in which Charlie hesitates. "Your father is going to get rid of Meteor, and then the first thing he's going to do is come see you. It won't be long now. He was always telling me how much he wanted to see you."
As she finishes one side of Marlene's hair, she holds the end of the braid between her ring finger and pinky, reaching for a hair-tie on the counter before starting on the other side.
"Has Reeve been good to you, at least?" Charlie asks, and Reeve feels his neck grow warm, stepping further out of the kitchen.
He means to retreat entirely to the living room, or at least go start the car to put as much distance between himself and that conversation as possible, but he can't help himself, his curiosity far too strong not to be sated now.
Marlene mhm's as enthusiastically as she can, but it seems talking about Barret has gotten her down. "Sometimes he says he'll come visit, but he doesn't," she adds as an afterthought. "And sometimes all he does is work when he's here."
"You can't be angry with him for that," Charlie says gently, and his heart does something funny, his stomach clenching and his chest tightening. "He's a very busy man, but I know he loves being here."
"Do you know what he told me about you?"
"Oh, Marlene, I'm sure he told you those things in confidence. How would you feel if he told me all of your secrets?"
Reeve smiles to himself, lingering at the bottom of the staircase, unable to see either Charlie or Marlene anymore. He wonders if he should keep her father's eventual arrival a secret or not.
"All done," comes Charlie's soft voice again, floating through the foyer. "Now, go and get your shoes on. I'm sure he'll be ready in a minute."
He's hit with a sudden ache in his heart, the premature mourning that accompanies the knowledge that he might never have a future, that he might never be able to experience the simple domesticity with her that had been just out of reach for years, that had always seemed so unattainable, considering who she was and their lifestyles.
They seem simple little wishes when he thinks about it. How many times had he wished for just one day that they could spend lying in bed together? How many times had he wished there were more chances to have dinner at home together? How many times had he imagined this very scene, or something like it?
As Marlene comes skipping out of the kitchen, she smiles as she catches sight of him (a brave face, indeed), picking up her shoes from near the front door. "Can you help me?" she asks, continuing onto the living room with a spring in her step.
"In a minute. I'll be right there."
Instead of moving into the living room, he enters the kitchen again, this time making his presence known. He lets his shoes come down a little harder on the floor, and he clears his throat just before Charlie puts her hands back into the soapy water in the left sink.
"Hey," she smiles, reaching for more dirty dishes as he comes up behind her. When he's standing right beside her, her smile begins to fade, and she dries her hands quickly on a tea towel nearby. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"
The answer is no, but he bites his tongue and chooses to say nothing. Instead, he stoops to wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face snugly in the crook of her neck. Her skin is so warm, and his fingers scrabble at her t-shirt, trying to find a firm grip to keep her close.
Charlie seems to melt into his arms, running long and damp fingers through the back of his hair with her other palm splayed across the very center of his back. For a brief moment, the urge to weep washes over him, but the urge is gone as quickly as it had come.
When he pulls away from her, his hands lingering at her sides, the first thing out of his mouth is a whispered apology that she shrugs off. The very sight of her face looking up at him fills him with a shaky sense of hope, that perhaps there could be a future for him, for her, for them.
"How's your face feeling?" she asks him, touching his cheekbones lightly with the pads of her thumbs.
"Fine." It's the truth.
She lowers her hands from his face, fixing the collar of his shirt. "Are you all right?"
"I'm feeling better now," he says with a sigh.
Charlie smiles shyly. She cradles the side of his face again and his eyes flutter closed, his stomach flipping when she kisses his cheek before promptly sending him back to Marlene.
Rocket Town is still suffering from the damage wrought by the rocket launch, though temporary fixes like tarps and boarded up windows, such as Shera's done to his own house.
It's quiet when he walks through the door, his bag slung over his shoulders, weighing heavy on his exhausted body. The place is clean, and there isn't glass all over the floor anymore and the living room is damn spotless after all those fucking morons had stayed here and made a mess.
"Shera!" he calls out into the seemingly empty house, receiving nothing in return.
The silence unnerves him. He checks her bedroom, which is clean, but still obviously being lived in. That puts his mind at ease, and he continues out into the backyard, where he glances up to see his rocket out of habit, completely forgetting that it's gone.
Shera isn't outside, either.
He lights up a cigarette and stares at the empty air where the Shinra No. 26 once stood tall and pretty. The scaffolding has all but been demolished, whatever parts could be salvaged have been used to repair buildings in the area, and finally, Rocket Town is devoid of the one attraction they had going for them.
Not that he gives a shit. He hates tourists, especially tourists who come here to gawk over his failure. At least he won't have to deal with that anymore. Not only is there no rocket to gawk at, but he had gone into outer space on that rocket, so it can't really be considered a failure.
He wonders what Charlie is doing now, and if she's made it safely to Kalm. It doesn't hurt to think about her like it used to. He knows that, wherever she is, she's with that boyfriend of hers, and Cid knows that she'll be happy with him.
When he finishes his cigarette, he stomps it out into the hard ground and makes his way back inside, hoping to shower and unpack and get something to eat.
There's noise coming from the kitchen when he closes the back door, and he rushes on to see if it's Shera, knowing damn well it isn't going to be anyone but her. No one else would come to his house and just fucking walk right in.
Her face is hidden behind some brown paper shopping bags, and she kicks the front door shut with her foot.
"Hey, Shera—"
She yelps, dropping the bags on the ground so all the goddamn food spills out of it. Cans roll over the floor, and the glass jar of milk shatters, leaving a puddle of it at her feet. Wide-eyed, Shera's chest heaves as she stares at him, oblivious to the mess on the ground.
"Shit, sorry, let me help you with that," Cid mumbles, kneeling down to try and save the rest of her groceries. "Didn't mean to scare you, kid."
Shera looks down at him, arms still held out awkwardly despite there being nothing in them anymore. "Captain, what are you doing here?"
He gets back to his feet, frowning at her before turning away to put all the food on the counter. The words catch in his throat. He's afraid they might sound stupid coming from him. "I just . . . wanted to come home for a few days. Before, y'know . . . we take on Sephiroth. Everyone's goin' home again just to be with everyone, and . . . well, you and I . . . Rocket Town's all we got."
"Sephiroth? What are you talking about?" Shera asks again, and Cid forgets that she knows fuck all about what he's been doing with those dipshits half a world away. "Is this it, then? Is this the end?"
"What? No!" he shouts, scoffing. "It ain't the end! What're you givin' up so easy for?" And then, feeling that it may have sounded a bit harsh, he rubs the back of his neck and sighs, adding, "Maybe we got a lot to talk about, Shera."
She still looks bewildered, but not entirely displeased. That's a start, at least. "Okay."
"You could act a little happier to see me, y'know."
"Oh, but I am!" Shera blushes, finally moving towards him to wrap her arms around his neck. He isn't sure if the gesture is genuine, but she squeezes tight like she means it. "I'm so sorry, Captain, it's just—I wasn't expecting to see you, is all."
"Yeah, yeah." Cid pats her back awkwardly and she releases him after a few moments. "But you gotta promise me somethin'."
"Anything."
"Might be my last few days," he tells her very seriously. "So you gotta call me by my name, got it?"
"Of course."
"Promise me," he says, raising his eyebrows.
Shera blushes harder, blinking up at him with those wide fucking eyes. "I promise."
Both Charlie and Elmyra are upstairs when they hear knocking at the front door.
She's reading in Reeve's bed, but immediately gets to her feet at the noise, poking her head out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Looking down towards Elmyra's room, they meet eyes, and Charlie retreats back into the bedroom only to get her gun from the nightstand before making her way downstairs.
Reeve wouldn't knock, and he hadn't warned them to expect any visitors. There's no one in Kalm that she knows, anyway, who might come knocking.
Elmyra follows her down the stairs, creeping slowly towards the front door. "Stay behind me," Charlie urges her, holding her left arm out to stop Elmyra from coming any closer, walking up to the door to look through the peephole. "Oh, Gods!"
Without offering Elmyra any further explanation, Charlie puts her gun down on a table to her right that holds a vase of pink flowers. She unlocks the doors and nearly whips it open to find four visitors standing without, eagerly awaiting entry.
Barret is the first to enter the house, looking around wildly for a sign of his daughter. "Where's Marlene? Where's my little girl?" He calls for her, but Charlie shakes her head as Cloud, Tifa, and Cait Sith follow him inside.
"She's out with Reeve right now. They should be back soon," Elmyra says, closing the door behind them all. "But what are you all doing here?"
"You mean she ain't even here?" Barret turns hastily towards Cait Sith, looking mutinous. "What're you playin' at, you damn cat? Where the hell is my daughter—"
"Barret, she's fine!" Charlie interrupts, grabbing Cait Sith right off the ground before Barret can get to him and taking a few steps backwards. She cradles the cat like a child, suddenly very defensive. "She's perfectly safe with Reeve, if that's what you're concerned about."
Barret doesn't give her an answer, instead grunting his disapproval, putting a hand on his hip, and turning away to look into the living room.
"Where are the others?" Charlie asks them all, setting Cait Sith down to hug Tifa and give Cloud an affectionate pat on the arm. "Is everything all right?"
"You didn't tell them we were coming?" Cloud lifts an eyebrow at Cait Sith, folding his arms over his chest.
"If you were expectin' us," Barret cuts in again, speaking to Charlie and gesturing towards the table by the front door, "then you probably wouldn't have brought a gun with you to answer the door."
"Thought it'd be nice to surprise Marlene," Cait Sith replies quickly, brushing himself off. "It all happened so fast."
"Excuses, excuses."
Elmyra clears her throat, touching Charlie's shoulder with a gentle hand. "Why don't we have some tea while we wait?"
Thankfully, Tifa is more than happy with the suggestion, eager to visit with Marlene again. Elmyra leads them all into the kitchen, launching into conversation about Marlene about her tutor and how much she's learned, about what she's been doing, about how her behavior has been.
For the most part, the girl has been an angel, or so Reeve would have Charlie believe, but he hasn't been here all the time, so he's missed out on things that Elmyra has been here for.
Sometimes she cries at night for her father, unable to be consoled until she's a sweating and runny-nosed mess, Elmyra says.
Sometimes she misses her home, Seventh Heaven, but she doesn't dislike this house, Elmyra says.
Sometimes she asks when they'll be able to go back home, or when Barret will be back, or when this will all be over, and Elmyra claims she never has an answer for her.
Barret confesses to his regrets, apologizes for not being able to be here for Marlene, and he is grateful that Elmyra has been generous enough to care for her in his stead.
But he does not thank Reeve, or acknowledge the things he's done for both Elmyra and Marlene. Charlie almost says something, eager to jump to Reeve's defense, but Cait Sith shakes his head as if knowing what she's going to do. It's very possible that Barret might just want to say those things to Reeve's face.
Charlie is just glad they're able to have this time together before the end, even if it's only for a little while.
"You're not listening."
No, he's not. He has no idea what Marlene has just said to him, only registers the fact that she's tugging at his sleeve like she's wont to do.
He's far too distracted by the fact that Barret, Cloud, and Tifa are sitting in the kitchen with Charlie and Elmyra and Cait. He's far too distracted by the fact that, very shortly, he will be forced to stand in front of three people he has personally wronged, under their severe scrutiny and subjected to their criticism.
"What is wrong with you?" she asks, reaching up for his hand and curling little fingers around his own as he tries to take his time walking back to the car. "Can we get ice cream?"
"Marlene, it's eleven o'clock in the morning. We only came here to get some things for Charlie."
"Not even candy for later?"
"No."
She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out and looking in the windows of the shops they pass. Many of them have been closed indefinitely in the face of Meteor, but there are still some of them open to anyone with gil or things to barter with.
"What about . . ." Marlene hums to herself, suddenly gasping. It makes him panic, his hairline dampening as he imagines the worst, looking up at the sky and all around him.
"Don't do that!" he scolds her exasperatedly.
She releases his hand to run up to a shop window, pressing herself flat against the glass. "Look, Reeve! Fireworks!"
"No, no, no," he says, wanting to nip that idea in the bud before he regrets it later. "Let's go, Marlene."
"Oh, please! I've never seen fireworks before!" Marlene begs, turning around to face him and clasping her hands together. "Please, please, please—I'll never ask for anything ever again—"
"Not today. Please, Marlene, let's get going—"
"But we could all do them tonight, couldn't we? You and me and Elmyra and Charlie?" She points to some cheap-looking fireworks in every color of the rainbow. "And it would be so romantic—"
Reeve blushes, sputtering awkwardly. "What do you know about romance?"
"Don't you think Charlie would like them?"
He narrows his eyes at her. He knows exactly what she's doing, and he's angry with himself for falling for it. "Damn," he sighs, conceding defeat. "All right, but just a few. And let's make it our secret until tonight, yes?"
"Charlie," Cait Sith whispers to her as Barret and Elmyra continue to talk about Marlene, now going on twenty minutes, "do the poor lad a favor and go outside quick, would you?"
She opens her mouth to answer, glancing towards the front door, but closes her mouth before she speaks, smiling and nodding slightly at him.
"I'll be right back," she murmurs to Tifa, who nods at her before turning back towards the others.
When she starts down the walkway towards the car, Marlene nearly bowls her over, sprinting towards the house with a plastic shopping bag dangling from her hand. "Hi, Charlie!"
"What do you have th—"
"Nothing!"
Charlie raises her eyebrows and opens the door wide again to allow the girl entry, closing it again as she hears Barret shout Marlene's name again.
"Are you spoiling that girl?" she asks Reeve with a smile, who closes the trunk after emptying the other bags from within.
He scoffs loudly, far too loudly. It gives him away immediately. "No," he protests, but it only makes her laugh.
"Let me help you with that—"
"I can't."
"What?" She bends down to pick up one of the bags filled with clothes. "Here, I don't mind—"
"Charlie, I can't go in there."
She hesitates, straightening back up and looking at him. He's agitated, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other, his eyes darting from her face to the front door to his feet to the windows to her face again.
"Of course you can. It's going to be fine." When he casts her a doubtful and helpless look, she adds, "You can't stay out here forever. And besides, they already know you."
"No, they don't. They know Cait Sith, and that isn't me."
Charlie rubs his arm, sympathetic. "Well, he's a little bit you."
"How can I look at Barret after what I've done?"
"Who cares what Barret thinks? You have three people here who won't let him treat you poorly, and if he were to treat someone poorly, don't you think it would be me? A Shinra? I'm literally his sworn enemy, but he just sat around the table with us and spoke to me like a friend."
"You didn't kidnap his young daughter," Reeve murmurs, lowering his eyes.
"Neither did you. And I've only known Marlene for a very short time, but I don't think she's very upset with you for bringing her here."
"Well, it's been known to happen, in rare cases, victims can develop—"
"No," Charlie says, shaking her head, a small smile still on her face. "I really think you're overthinking things. You made a mistake, and you lied, but no one got hurt in the process and you have done such wonderful things for both Elmyra and Marlene."
Reeve sighs, stiffening and brushing his shirt off. "How do I look?"
"You look great."
"You're just saying that. Do you think I should have worn a tie?"
Charlie purses her lips and cocks an eyebrow, stifling the laughter that bubbles up inside her for his sake. She takes hold of his hands, lowering them back to his sides to keep him from fidgeting with his clothes. "You're not getting married, Reeve, you're just meeting people who are already your friends, who already like you."
"Sorry, I'm just very nervous."
"I know, but you're going to be fine. I'm here." She feels for him, truly. She knows what it feels like to be an outsider within that particular group of friends. "Come on, let's go."
They both grab hold of the bags, but Charlie leads the way. He slows his pace, taking his sweet time. "Do you think I should make a joke? To lighten the mood?" he asks.
"I think you should just leave the jokes to me," she tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he approaches the front door. "You know, I think just acting normal is the best approach here."
Reeve protests quietly even as she opens the front door again, catching the attention of both Barret and Marlene, who have moved to the foyer with intentions, it seems, to relocate to the living room. The others trail behind him and everyone goes quiet.
"What took you so long, Reeve?" Marlene asks with the theatrics of a five-year-old girl, hanging from Barret's forearm with her feet a few inches off the ground, looking positively delighted.
"Marlene, don't you have some things to put away?" Charlie asks her pointedly, looking at the mystery bag at the foot of the stairs that Marlene had refused to tell her again.
"Oh, yeah!" Dropping back to the ground and landing gracefully, Marlene dashes away, carrying the bag upstairs.
When Reeve fails to introduce himself, averting his eyes instead and rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish way, Charlie wraps her fingers around his bicep and smiles at their friends. Cait Sith lightly pads his way over, his tail brushing against her calves as he winds his way around Reeve's leg.
"Everyone, this is Reeve," she says, smiling brilliantly to make it seem as if she hasn't a care in the world. Looking anxious would only serve to make the situation worse. "Reeve, you know everyone already."
Elmyra smooths down the front of her dress, fixing her eyes upon Barret.
Tifa is the one to break the silence, after Cloud seems to revel in it and Barret can't find words to say. "It's good to finally meet you."
Reeve pauses, looking around. "Likewise."
"Why don't we move into the living room?" Elmyra suggests, urging Cloud, Barret, and Tifa to make for the next room over. "We can give them a moment to put their shopping away."
Reeve seems to seize on the moment, nearly running up the stairs with the shopping bags. Charlie follows behind him, setting the bags on the bed. When she turns back around to face him, he runs both hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it.
"Tell me everything is going to be all right," he pleads quietly.
"Everything is going to be all right."
His relief is palpable, and he lowers his hands from his head. "Okay," he breathes, smiling crookedly at her. "Okay. I just . . . needed to hear you say that."
Charlie smiles sweetly, taking his hand in her own and pulling him gently towards the door, glad that he isn't resisting. In fact, he seems a little more confident, a little more himself when they enter the living room.
Barret takes up nearly the entire couch, but there's still enough room for Tifa and Cloud to sit on either side of him. Elmyra sits in the most comfortable armchair (according to her, anyway), and Reeve insists Charlie sit in the last remaining chair, where Cait Sith clambers into her lap like an attention-seeking child.
"Nice place you got here, man," Barret says to Reeve.
Reeve clears his throat. "Thank you. It was the only one available on such short notice. And besides, it's not really my place, it's Elmyra's—"
Barret glances left and right, at Cloud and Tifa respectively. "Just take the compliment, would you?" he interrupts, not unkind about it.
"Daddy! Tifa!" Marlene calls from the top of the stairs, waving a sheet of paper in her hand, already hurrying back down. "Look at this! Look what Reeve drew for me!"
She leaps into Barret's lap, holding up the piece of paper in her father's face. Reeve blushes.
"It's gonna be the new bar when we move back to Midgar. I helped," she explains happily, and now that she says something, Charlie can make sense of the many lines that she sees through the underside of the paper. "Look, this is my room. It's bigger than the other rooms. And look here—" Marlene points at something—"people can eat downstairs and upstairs."
Tifa looks thoughtful for a moment, but no one decides to intrude upon the girl's excitable fantasy, not wanting to shatter the illusion. It'll be a miracle if they ever make it back to Midgar to settle down again. "It's very nice," she decides to say, smiling shyly at Reeve before looking back at the plans. "Where am I going to sleep, Marlene? Hopefully not in this tiny little room right here?"
"That's a bathroom," Marlene says, clicking her tongue. "Your room is here, next to mine, and Daddy's room is here, on the other side."
"What do you need such a big room for?" Barret asks, laughing gruffly to himself.
Charlie watches them laugh and tease each other, distractedly dragging her fingers through the white patch of fur on Cait Sith's chest. Marlene shows her father that she can write her own name now, proudly detailing her experiences with the tutor that she and Reeve had picked out together, and showing him pieces of schoolwork and crayon drawings that she's done.
She looks up at Reeve, smiling. He's certainly more at ease, hovering over her shoulder at the back of the chair.
Cloud and Tifa linger only for a little while, meaning to return to the now-empty Highwind now that everyone has gone home for a few days before their journey to the Northern Crater.
Hoping to allow Barret as much alone time with Marlene as possible, Reeve and Charlie offer to drive them back, and their offer is accepted with sincere thanks from both Cloud and Tifa. Marlene is more than thrilled to keep an eye on Cait Sith, who Reeve promises will keep to himself.
It's an awkward drive, though they haven't landed the airship too far away. They had taken chocobos into the town, Tifa explains, though it had taken them a long time to catch them. It was almost not worth the effort, but in the end, three chocobos had wandered right into their paths and eaten the last greens in their possession, allowing themselves to be mounted and ridden.
The car is much faster, and a much nicer ride, than a chocobo, Cloud tells them, seated in the back with Tifa.
"Sure you don't want to come with us?" Cloud asks them both.
Charlie and Reeve exchange a sideways look that probably doesn't go unnoticed. She already knows what he wants to say, but she's prepared to say it for the both of them. "Well, we aren't fighters, and there's not much we could probably do to help," she tells them apologetically, twisting in her seat to face them. "But there are things we can do here to help, so I think . . . we're going to stay."
Reeve doesn't speak up to contradict her, but also adds, "I'll send Cait Sith back with you, when Barret leaves."
"We'd appreciate it," Cloud says.
Their good-byes are awkward. They all must realize that optimism at this point is close to foolishness. No one is willing to commit to saying a proper good-bye, however, and they all promise half-heartedly to meet here again in a few days.
Tifa hugs her, and Cloud and Reeve shake hands. It occurs to her that Cloud and Tifa are hardly more than children, shouldering the weight of the world with admirable courage.
And on the ride back, Charlie can't help but wonder if she should have said something more, if she should have thanked them for their generosity, if she should have apologized to them for not being able to do more.
Perhaps Reeve senses her anxiety, because he smiles at her as he drives back towards Kalm. "You know, Marlene had a great idea earlier. She thought it might be fun to do something together tonight, all of us."
"Does it, by chance, have anything to do with what was in her bag this morning?"
"You're just as smart now as you ever were, aren't you?"
Charlie smiles sheepishly. "What is it?"
"I can't tell you. It's a surprise, but Marlene was certain you'd like it."
She doesn't press him for details, not wanting to spoil the surprise. She doesn't want to disappoint Marlene, not while her father is there with her. "I think it's really sweet, what you've done for them," she tells him.
"I didn't do it for praise."
"Why did you, then?"
He looks away from the road, only for a moment, to gauge her expression. It's only an innocent question, borne from a sincere curiosity. Charlie knows that Reeve is kind and soft-hearted and, ultimately, very sympathetic towards the undercity's residents, but that can't be the only reason he's bent over backwards for them.
"I don't know. It was the right thing to do, and . . ." He sighs, thinking for a minute. "I kept coming back because I didn't have any friends or allies in the city. I was surrounded by people who resented me in Midgar, but here, I was wanted. It seems ridiculous now, though."
Charlie lets her eyes trace his profile. "How so?"
"I was lonely, Charlie," he states, turning to face her again as they approach town. "I should never have indulged myself. Barret likely doesn't want me with three-hundred feet of his daughter, and Aerith . . ."
He falls silent at the mention of Aerith. Charlie feels a lump form in her throat at the sound of her name. It's not that she's forgotten the death of her friend, it's just that so much has happened since then that the pain had been compartmentalized and pushed to the back of her mind.
She wonders how Reeve feels about it, but is unsure how to bring it up. Perhaps she'll save that question for if they survive Meteor.
But she is sure about one thing. "I think Aerith would have been very grateful to know you've been keeping her mother safe."
Reeve sighs very heavily. Charlie, not wanting to keep talking about Aerith in the hopes of keeping conversation light, half-afraid that it will ruin the rest of their night, slips her hand into his own, twining their fingers together.
Even if they'll never be truly part of Avalanche's little tight-knit family they've created, at least they still have each other.