"Kat." I groan, pulling the covers over my head. Rude sighs, tugging at them. "You're going to be late."

"I don't care," I grumble, burying my face in the couch cushions. "Tell Tseng he can go fuck himself."

"No." He pulls the blanket off of me and I curl up with a shudder.

"Why's it so cold?"

"It's not."

Scoffing, I roll onto the floor with a dramatic whine before dragging myself to my feet. I straighten my uniform, awkwardly fidgeting with my tie before looking to Rude for help. He shakes his head, giving it a tug to the right and turning my collar over before heading to the kitchen.

"Gods, please tell me you have coffee."

"No." He opens the fridge and takes out a carton of juice.

"Do you just not eat?" I slump against the counter, rubbing my face. "There's no food in there."

"Rufus."

"Yeah? What about him?"

"I'm surprised he's given you this many chances."

"Really? He just seems a little stuck up," I shrug. "Said he couldn't kill me because Tseng would have his head."

"Tseng can't have his head." Rude tosses the carton back in the fridge and turns to me. "Stop tempting him."

"It's hard," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. "He's such a dick."

He frowns, staring hard into his glass.

"Why does Tseng care?"

"He doesn't care about me." I jam my hands in my pockets and shrug. "He's doing someone a favor."

"Who?"

"Can't tell you."

"His sister?"

"Well, if you knew, why'd you ask?" I scoff. "Read that somewhere, too."

"Same documents Tseng showed me."

"Of course. Where's your demon rat?"

"Locked in his room."

"His room?"

"Yeah."

"You're not very nice to him."

"Plenty nice when strangers aren't here."

"Strangers," I huff.

Inside the elevator, Reeve greets us with a thin-lipped smile. I nod back, and that's the extent of our interaction. Tseng raises an eyebrow when I walk into his office uninvited.

"Do I even need to ask where I am today?"

"Do you?" He shakes his head. "Rude, Elena, and I will be headed for the mines."

"Avalanche is there already?"

"No, but they will be soon. Someone gave them a ride out to the farm."

"The farm?" I frown.

"I forget you've never left." Slowly, he sets a paper aside, glancing up at his screen. "There's a chocobo farm outside of the marsh blocking the mines."

"And how far away is that?"

"I'd say an hour flight by helicopter at the most."

"Nice. When's Rufus want me?"

"You're already late."

"Oh, joy."

I take the stairs this time, waiting for the guards to let me into Rufus's office. He's scribbling away at some papers, likely the arrangements of shifting the company over to his control. Already working his ass off, hm? I lean against the wall, arms crossed, as I wait for him to acknowledge me. He signs off on a few more things before looking up.

"I thought Tseng might have told you to knock by now."

"Knock on what? I'm not allowed anywhere near your door." I roll my eyes. "And Tseng didn't raise me."

"I'm well aware. You wouldn't last a day under his roof," he murmurs, turning yet another page over.

"Did you call me up here just to berate me?"

"I wanted to inform you that I won't be tolerating your attitude anymore. I plan to be rid of my father's focus on money and use a more… threatening approach."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Who are you, anyway? I feel like I've met four different Rufus Shinra's.

"Fear." He stands, setting his pen down on the desk and pacing. Hasn't moved to the big room yet. "It controls the common people and forces respect from subordinates, as it should for you." His voice is tense as he scowls at me. He really is sick of my shit. "I will not tolerate this disrespect any longer, understand? You may as well be showing every other employee of Shinra that I am not to be feared."

"Well, are you?"

"Kat." He shakes his hair out of his face, getting frustrated.

"I'm not scared of you," I retort, hating the way my name sounds on his tongue.

"Is that so?" He huffs, wandering closer. My blood begins to boil, but I grit my teeth, wrestling it into my control. "Let's try again: how much will I be tolerating?"

"… Nothing."

"Exactly. Nothing." He lifts his chin, a proud smile tracing his lips. "Keep that word in mind, Kat. You're nothing, not without my command. I've had enough with the backtalk."

"So you did call me up here to berate me," I mutter, raising an eyebrow. Nothing. Hm. More familiar than I thought. "Can I go now, or did you have more to get off your chest?" There he goes again, charging like a wild animal. I stumble backward, alarmed.

"Did you not hear a single word I said?" he demands, easily towering over me. His breath hits my face and I shiver. "I will tolerate this behavior no longer." There's that gun again, too. Feels all too

"You're a one-trick chocobo," I retort. Reno always told me I had a short girl complex. Guess he's right. "Fucking do it already."

Rufus stares hard into my face, and for a moment, I think he'll back off again. Then he squeezes the trigger, firing a bullet clean through my right arm. Holy fuck. I grit my teeth, flinching when I try to reach for the burning wound but forcing myself to stop. The tears well up from the pain, but I blink them away, refusing to show my pain. Gods, that hurts. Dissatisfied with my reaction, Rufus knocks me to the floor, placing one of his perfect shoes on my back.

"Remember this: you are below me. No matter how far you get, that's where you'll always be."

With a final press of his toes into my back, Rufus heads back toward his desk. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to my feet, clutching my arm. Blood oozes between my fingers and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling a trail of warmth trickle down my cheek. For the love of all things good in the world, Kat, just take your beating and leave. But I can't. That's not who I am. I'm an idiot, but at least I stand up for myself.

"Keep going like this, and you'll be no better than Daddy."

Something shifts in his demeanor and he struggled with his perfectly kept control, raising the gun once more and firing at my head. I flinch, closing my eyes and praying for a quick death. Instead, the bullet hits the wall, just barely missing my ear.

"Get out before I lose my patience." I start toward the door, but he stops me. "And, Kat, if Tseng hears about this, I'll be sure not to miss next time."

"Yessir," I mutter.

Dizzy with adrenaline, I go the only place I know to return to—the infirmary. I've just been walking in circles. I stumble down the stairs, not willing to let anyone see me in the elevator. Squeezing my arm in hopes of crushing the pain away, I knock into the railing, hoping to gain so sort of support. Instead, I take a tumble, unable to catch myself. My head slams into brick and I see stars. How hard did he hit me? Slowly, I force myself back to my feet, dreading the thought of anyone seeing me lying on the floor, and take the walk to the infirmary one step at a time.

"Whoa, hey!" I look up to see Reno sitting upright, his door propped wide open. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I'm fine," I murmur, blinking the dark spots out of my vision and heading for Marx's room. Hoping no one's there, I kick at the door in a single warning before turning the knob with my bloody hand. He looks up from his computer, stunned to see me in this state.

"Just slap me back together so I can get out of here," I wheeze, wincing when I sit on the table.

"You're not going anywhere," he insists, closing the door. "Take that jacket off. I need to see your arm."

"I have to get back to Rufus—"

"You have to worry about yourself right now." He clicks on a flashlight. "Look at me." I do as he instructs, too tired to fight, though I'm a little uneasy when he has me unbuttoning my shirt to show him the bullet wound. Gods, that's gross. "The good news is that I don't think you have a concussion."

"You don't think?"

"No." He lifts my arm, staring hard at the nasty wound. "Was this point-blank?"

"Maybe."

"It's messy." He reaches for a pair of tweezers. "Hold still. I have to get the little pieces out."

I screw my eyes shut, letting my head hang back. This feeling…

"C'mon, Kat, just sit still. This is why you can't have access to firearms."

I grit my teeth, trying to stifle my cry of pain as Tyler digs around in my side for a bullet with his fingers. It's just the last one… My skin is clammy and my stomach hurts from squeezing so hard, but he finally finds what he's looking for. He pulls it free, showing me the piece of metal as my blood drips down his hands.

"See? Not so bad." He sets it aside and wipes his hand off. "You alright?"

"That hurt."

"You'll be okay." He brushes my hair back and presses a kiss to my forehead. When he pulls away, I see him readying a syringe in his other hand.

"Ty, I said no mako—"

"Kat, I'm a professional." He pins my arm to the table, forcing a smile that looks menacing. "Just sit still and it'll be okay before you know it."

I try to fight back, but he's too big, too strong. The needle stings, but the mako burns. The fire spreads slowly throw my body, stinging like a thousand knives trying to cut each fiber of my being apart little by little. He kisses my cheek and locks the door behind him, leaving me to writhe in the dark alone.

"I love you…"

"Okay, you should be good to go." Tyler takes the potion vial from me and tosses it in the trash, writing something quickly. "I'd ask about your memories, but you look like you're in a hurry."

"Yeah…" I blink out of my trance, disgusted that I let this man touch me again, and stand.

"Try not to tear those open," he calls after me. I shake my head, dizzy from being pulled back and forth in my head. Who are you, Marx?

"I was beginning to wonder where you were." Rufus looks up, as smug as he can look whilst concealing his emotions. And yes, I knocked. "Tseng and the others should be returning later, but in the meantime, I need someone to fix this printer. It's given out and the repairman seems to have disappeared." Can't say I blame him.

"Yes, sir," I mumble, crossing the room to the shuddering printer and pulling its plug. "Does it have an instruction manual?"

"I'm sure it does. I don't own it."

"Right…" I sigh, pulling out my phone so search for directions. Gods, a drink sounds wonderful. Rufus raises an eyebrow.

"You didn't change?"

"This is the only uniform I have."

"Have the tailor give you another. He's meant to make multiples per each employee."

"I will later."

Crossing my legs, I shed my holey jacket and roll the sleeves of my shirt up, hoping not to destroy my clothes further. Ink stains my hands and paper shreds cut my fingers, but I keep going, determined to prove my worth. How the hell did this get jammed? Huffing, I pull my hair back and keep working until I'm positive that everything's perfect. Finally, I stand, wincing when my sore hips stretch back into place.

"Okay. I think it's working now." I stand back, crossing my arms and watching as Rufus tests a page, grinning when the printer beeps, satisfied. "Sweet."

"Yes. You can leave now."

"Already?" I frown, flinching when he raises an eyebrow. Like a fucking dog. "Sorry," I mumble, grabbing my jacket and heading for the door.

"For what, exactly?"

"Huh?" I turn back, confused. "Oh. Disrespect…?" When he doesn't answer, my heart begins to pound. Did I do something wrong again? "You made a face."

"Did I?" Rufus shakes his head. "You were on the floor for two hours; I didn't expect you to think that too soon to leave."

"Two hours?" I repeat, checking the time. Holy shit. "Is Tseng back?"

"I don't know." He frowns, eyeing the darkened bloodstains on my sleeve where it bulges out, stretching around the wraps wound around my wound. The tension in the air takes a shift that I don't like. "Come here."

I stop myself from asking why, pressing my lips together and standing before the desk. Rufus slides his chair back, opening a drawer and rolling a glass vial across the table. I catch it, startled.

"Use it," he commands. "It'll speed up the healing."

"Uh… Thanks…?" I uncap the bottle, unsettled when he watches to make sure I down the whole thing. Stop staring at me.

"Kat." I lower my head, clutching the empty glass bottle at my side. If I squeeze it hard enough, will it cut me? "Don't expect me to go easy on you in the future. Pity isn't a common indulgence of mine."

"Yes, sir." I pocket the bottle and hurry out the door, clutching my jacket to my body. At least this time I made it out in one piece.