Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

XXXI) Keeping Secrets

"What?"

"That would explain your symptoms," he continues, touching his glasses. "Morning sickness, aches, fluctuating mood..."

"I think the mood's just her personality," Elena points out. When I scowl at her, she shakes her head. "Do you still want me to stay, or...?"

"Please." I can't imagine what would happen if Elena left this room without me, ready to blurt her new secret to the first person she meets. Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. How did I let this happen? "What am I going to do?"

"Well, you have a couple of options." Marx sits on his stool, resting his hands on his knees. "If you decide to keep it, you can take time off work, but that will more than likely turn into a permanent situation."

"#$%^," I moan, closing my eyes and letting my hands fall into my lap.

"It's not that bad. I have a kid, Kat, and I'd say she's turning out alright."

"This is different."

"... I know." Marx sighs, pulling his glasses off and tapping them against the counter. "I wouldn't recommend that, not with what in your blood."

"I'm not letting it go. Not if I can help it." I tug at the threads in my pants, feeling sick. My chest is tight and I can't get rid of the lump in my throat. Is this really my only choice?

The child stays.

I'll protect you both.

I shiver. "They won't have to suffer through what I have."

"That's not my point. The voice, Kat."

"She's there to protect me from myself."

"She?" When I shake my head, he continues. "Kat, she isn't just the result of psychological damage. She is in your DNA, passed to you through your father after he decided to use himself as a test subject."

"What is it?" I demand, turning to scowl at him. "I know you don't want to mess with my memories, but I have a right to know."

"You'll know soon enough. You've still been remembering?"

"Yeah?"

"What was the last thing you recalled?"

I glance at Elena, hanging my head. "... Killing Tseng's fiancé."

"Then you're close."

"How do you know?"

"We've done this before, remember? No, I don't suppose you would. Apologies." Marx pulls his keyboard closer. "Consider your options well, Kat. I know what I would choose."

"Well, it's a good thing it's not your decision."

"No, it's not." He frowns, eyes narrowed on his screen. "Do you know who the father is?"

"I..." My words get stuck in my throat. Suddenly, I can't breathe. No.

"Kat?"

"No, I don't think—I don't know."

"But what about Reno?" Elena asks, frowning.

I press my lips together and realization dawns clearly on Marx's face. How does he know? He clears his throat and blinks away a thought before typing rapidly on his keyboard.

"What are you—"

"It's Rufus Shinra, isn't it?"

"Tyler—" I cut myself off, shoulders slumped in defeat. It's too late—he has to report to the President. Elena's eyebrows look ready to disappear into her hairline, her jaw slack. This is a sick mess. "I don't know what to do."