aftermath
Rating: T
Pairing: Hope/Light if you squint
Summary: The aftermath of the fall. Hope Estheim decides to hope for the future one more time.

...

aftermath

...

The aftermath of the fall.

...

"Do you really think she's out there?"

His voice is weak, but not timid, quivering ever so slightly at the chilly ocean breeze one night in New Bodhum. The stars twinkle hilariously in the hazy dark sky, clouds splashing by serenely across the black canvas, passing the crystal form of Cocoon. It's like a massive glacier in the dark sky, Hope sometimes thinks as he sees the crystal with at times childlike wonder. Snow turns his gaze to look at the younger boy - or man. He may only be sixteen but Snow knows how mature he is, how smart he is. He is no longer a child, but in fact, an equal companion, and Snow intends to treat him that way. She would have done so as well. The older man chuckles before nudging Hope's arm lightly, a teasing, friendly show of affection from the large man.

"She's out there alright."

"And you're gonna find her?"

Snow just shrugs, "I'll try, but knowing her, she'll probably be the one to find me."

Hope frowns, displeased at Snow's lackluster answer. Nothing is ever concrete with Snow - it's always vague, some morph of a plan, but never a real solid agenda. It worries him - that Snow is leaving Serah behind to find Lightning without even a solid plan to pursue. What if something happens to Serah while he's gone? What if something happens to him?

"I don't know, Snow. It might be too early to try this," he suggests, trying to be the voice of reason in this conversation. Despite Snow being older, Hope Estheim was often the rational one of the two, "You'll be leaving Serah all by herself."

"Serah's strong."

"I know that," Hope snaps back abruptly, a little agitated by this point, "But... You guys always wanted to get married. Who knows when you'll be back? You can't expect Serah to wait for you for God knows how long..."

The blond man is silent now, and the younger one can't help but feel sorry for his harsh remarks. He scratches the back of his head nervously, and then adds on as an apologizing afterthought: "Maybe you should think through this more carefully."

And the blond man just grins, that signature, foolishly carefree grin that reminds Hope of young children running on the beach in the sunset. The carefree nature of his smile is something that has remained constant since the beginning.

"Somethings," he pauses, pondering for the right words, "Somethings in life aren't ever clear. But they're worth the shot."

Hope listens silently. Determination, Snow was always full of determination. Despite his flimsy arguments and brash actions, he's always believed that what he did was worth the effort - that part of him hasn't changed a bit. Hope sometimes envied how strong Snow was in that regard - despite his foolishness, he was the undisputed leader of New Bodhum - and Hope wondered if it was that determination, that conviction that turned people's hearts to follow him. Perhaps that's what she had as well. Snow resembled her far more than she was comfortable with.

Maybe that's why she was so displeased of him in the beginning - they were opposite ends of the same spectrum, and the uncanny resemblance irked her.

"I might be an idiot for heading off without a clear plan, but if it'll bring me one step closer to bringing her back, it's worth it," he pauses, in one of his rare moments of sincere contemplation, "A few months ago, I asked Serah to marry me. For real..."

It didn't strike Estheim as a surprise, since they've been engaged for at least a year, with clear intentions of getting married in the near future.

"But... Serah told me that she wanted to wait until Lightning was with us again. Lightning is Serah's only family left..."Snow suddenly chuckles, "She's important to Serah... Actually, to all of us. I can't just sit here knowing that she's out there somewhere."

Hope shoves his cold hands deep into his pant pockets, his eyes headed towards the ground, staring numbly at his feet. The wind blows swiftly, lifting his bangs up and then letting them fall again on his forehead, slightly covering his eyes.

After the fall, things are getting better, but better is not perfect. No, not anywhere near perfect. There's always that hollow feeling lingering around all of them. They've lost Fang and Vanille - but at least they will forever remember the noble sacrifice they made, and that the two safe for now, perhaps waiting to come back in a different time, some other time where they'll be able to find peace. They had made a decision to save Cocoon together, and everybody agreed without dispute to honor it.

But Lightning?

Nobody knows where Lightning is, what happened to her after the fall. All they remember are little pieces of the scene after the fall - her laughter, her smile - but where is she now? Where did she disappear to? It's a mystery, an unsolved aftermath, and it bothers all of them, especially Hope. The pit in his stomach coils whenever he sees the hunting knife he found at the pillar displayed on the fireplace at Serah and Snow's place - a constant reminder of her enigmatic disappearance and his own helplessness, that dark, hollow pit that rumbles in his core.

He promised to look out for her, but in the end, what has he truly done to protect her?

"I hope you find her," Hope mumbles under his breath faintly, but Snow can hear it, "Or I hope she finds you. Either way."

The older man chuckles, that loud, rumbling chuckle that rises deep from within his chest like a steady drum.

"I hope so too."

He doesn't know if Snow's just stupid or too brave for his own good, but it doesn't really matter to him anymore.

...

"I'm gonna join the Academy, dad."

His father looks up from his plate, his eyes rigid like stone.

"Hope," Bartholomew sternly put his fork down and looked gravely at his son, "Not at the dinner table... We've already discussed this."

"I can help! I won't be a burden!" Hope argues, his voice rising. He hasn't argues for something so fiercely against his father's wishes ever since the fall. They've come to understand each other more these past few years. It was a slow process, but eventually, Hope came to see why his father acted the way he did sometimes - and perhaps it was just a general realization of how precious family was. He'd lost one, and he wasn't willing to lose his bond to the other due to his foolishness.

But this was different. It rattled him at his core whenever he thought about joining Academy. He could help - he could help in creating methods for the people to live without the fal'Cie, to throw away their dependence and avert another crisis. He could better lives -

Isn't that what she would've wanted? She made him stronger, made him tougher and smarter to protect himself, to protect others. He wanted to save and protect - and find ways to bring back things the way they were. Bring back the people who should be here with him.

After a pregnant pause, Bartholomew is shaken by Hope's persistence, and the young man continues, "I've been working really hard at my studies... My teacher thinks I could easily join the Academy and learn more from there. I can help."

Bartholomew knows - after all, isn't he a father? He knows when his child needs something, different from a whining, screaming child begging for something at the grocery store. No, this is something much, much more essential, more elemental to Hope.

Sixteen years, and he sees it in his son's eyes that this is something far greater than even a father can understand.

And who is he to deny his son a chance to do what he needs?

He sighs, a breath of acceptance, "Next year."

Hope blinks.

"You can try to join next year."

...

He tells Sazh the news during a dinner visit to New Bodhum. Sazh doesn't really stay in one place anymore - he travels here and there around the safer areas of Gran Pulse with Dajh. But they never forget to visit the NORA headquarters ever now and then.

"I'm joining the Academy next year."

Sazh looks at Hope, his eyes widened with surprise, his mouth slightly slack open with shock. They're standing on the porch, silently enjoying the ocean tides while Dajh picks up small seashells from the sand. The Chocobo chick flies breezily around his shoulders when Sazh suddenly coughs and then lovingly pats his son's back, his eyes filled with fatherly affection. Hope can't help but wonder if his father used to look at him in such a endearing manner, or if his father still does when he's not looking.

"Dajh, go on inside. Uncle Gadot wanted to see how much you've grown."

The child smiles and runs inside carelessly, the Chocobo following him. Without a care in the world, that's what everybody wants, right?

"He's eight now?" Hope asks as Dajh runs in. Sazh just chuckles.

"Already eight. Soon he'll be ten, then sixteen like you."

"Everybody in the NORA gang seems to like him."

"He's a good boy... never really had a mother. I was the only family member he's ever known. The boy sort of sees the entire NORA gang as a second family, and the entire group treats him like one as well," the man's laugh is wry but affectionate, something that has stayed consistent ever since they've fought together. He finds Sazh's constant presence comforting - that in a midst of a chaotic, changing world, Sazh Katzroy will not change, that there will be always someone to turn to when the future seems too dark and unknown.

Sazh pats Hope on the back affectionately as well, and the boy feels like he's the young, fourteen-year-old boy all over again under those warm, heavy hands that encourage him like he's still so young.

"I don't know what to tell you, kid," he confesses honestly.

"You... don't support my decision?" asks Hope worriedly. In the end, he wanted Sazh's approval, because Sazh is the second father to him - an adult figure that stood by him when his own father wasn't there, "Is it because I'm too young? My father's making me wait a year before I join, but..."

"Boy, you're smarter than any adult I've ever met. And far more mature than some adults," he laughs, "Just look at Snow."

Hope ends up laughing along with him, their laughter echoing on the dark night of the beach.

"Your age isn't the problem. It's your motive I'm worried about."

He tilts his head, confused at the older man's words, "My motive?"

"...I know you want to help out in reconstructing civilization and all for the better good... but is that really all there is inside you? Isn't there something deeper that roots all this?"

Estheim pauses, pondering upon those words. He knew that Sazh was a force to be trusted - she would've trusted him as well. Was there something deeply entrenched into his conviction to join Academy? Was it so deeply entrenched that he didn't even notice it?

"Just know, boy," Sazh pats his shoulder again. This time, his hands weight more heavily into his shoulder, and Hope feels heavy and temporarily lost at the moment, "Just know that you can't change the past."

You can't change the past.

Perhaps Sazh has accepted this truth better than anyone else - he is the oldest of the group, and he certainly has much from his past he wishes he can change.

"I know you're a smart kid. You've got an entire future ahead of you. Don't throw away that future by wallowing in the past, Hope."

Hope looks his feet again, a part of his mind going numb as he turns over and over those words.

It's a short pause, a mere moment of silence, but it's heavy - heavy with incomplete words that never were fully communicated. Words that never arrived at its destination. That's what words are supposed to do - arrive at a destination and communicate something, transfer a meaning. But too many of his words were never sent properly. They're sitting here, heavy and static.

Pitiful, he thinks. How pitifully weak is he? He's sixteen and still he's so weak. She would've laughed at his state right now.

Hope mutters under his breath,"Well, nobody's taught me how to get over the past."

He doesn't know if Sazh can hear what he said, but the old man doesn't say anything more as he looks out to the ocean, watching the broken stars and moonlight on the surface.

...

"I brought the recent data on the Bresha Ruins Time Gate tests, Director. Is that all?"

Alyssa asks as she places the stack of files of research and data on his work desk. He gives a little wave of the hand as a sign of acknowledge, a small thanks. She sighs - she used to get angry at him for his dismissive, cold attitude towards his coworkers and subordinates during crunch periods of research, but she realized after a year or two that this is how he operates, how he thinks under pressure. It's frightening how focused he can be when he has a goal. She sometimes wonder where he got such a drive from, that spirited focus.

After a moment of thought, Hope finally looks up to see her.

"Sorry, Alyssa. You were saying?"

She grins cheerfully, her signature smile that would light up even the most swamped researcher in the Academy. Hope certainly didn't mind her cheerfulness during stressful nights of work, "I brought the test data on the Bresha Ruins portals you asked for. Anything else you need?"

"Are the tests on the Oracle Drive done as well?"

"Those won't be done for another two days... The staff is working on it."

"Then that'll be all. Thank you, Alyssa." he nods as he takes a thick file from the stack.

She wonders, why the obsession with the Time Gates and the Oracle Drive? What has these portals at the Bresha Ruins got anything to do with the people now?

"Is there a reason why you're so interested in these Time Gates and the Oracle Drive in particular, Director?" It's an earnest question, one that has been, not only her mind, but on the mind of most of the researchers under his guidance. They're all curious to know about the gates, but also desiring to know what these gates will lead to - what will come out of their work?

"Well, we're sure they're portals to a different time period," responds Hope as he turns his gaze towards her, away from his papers and numbers.

"Time travel, sure, it's quite a wonder. But after the sighting of Serah and Noel at Bresha Ruins, nobody's been able to get these gates to work. We don't know how to get the images on the Oracle Drive as well."

"That's why we're working, isn't it?"

He's sharp and cold with words when it comes to the research, she realizes, another thing she wonders where he got it from, considering how gentle he usually is.

"We know the gates work - there were clear reports of Serah and Noel using the Time Gates at the Bresha Ruins. They'll be back - and we'll be ready then."

Alyssa sighs, no use in arguing with him now. But she looks back at him, the young man far wiser, far more intelligent than peers his age. He'll do great things, they all say - Hope Estheim, he's going to lead the people to the future. Alyssa believed it too - if there's one person that's going to lead the way to the future, it's going to be Hope Estheim. That's why she joined the Academy, joined his research team. She wants to pave her own future too, pave the way to survive another day...

They're alike in many ways, she supposes. She wanted to change the events of the past - and perhaps he desires the same thing.

She's an anomaly, but he's quite an unanswered question himself.

...

Noel reminds him of someone he knew. Or maybe he reminds him of various people he knew.

He's a bit of Vanille - that inexorable hope for the future, that things will get better. Perhaps his time was so bleak, so full of despair that all Noel could do is hope at that point, but whenever he hears Noel talk to Serah about his hopes for the future, he can't help but remember the young girl and her prayer for a brighter day.

There's a part of Fang in there - the way he talks confidently and calmly, able to keep his cool even in dire situation. He's a little bit cocky - something that just bleeds of Fang. He's got the instincts of a fighter, a hunter - another thing that reminds him of the tall, proud fighter he fought alongside with.

He can also see a tiny part of Sazh in his maturity, his ability to fend for himself. Perhaps his maturity comes as he is one of the sole survivors of his world.

As much as Noel hates to acknowledge it, a part of Snow exists within him as well. He's far less foolish, Hope admits, but his bravery, his determination inexplicably reminds him of the blond man.

And then there's her.

Whenever Noel talks about Lightning, Hope sees the awe upon Noel's face, the expression of a child meeting a hero, a feeling of total admiration. His face lights up with excitement and respect, remembering every moment of his short meeting with her, how she fought gallantly, with far more grace and elegance than he will ever have, with poise and strength far beyond anything he's seen before.

"She's practically a warrior goddess, like the ones in the legends, the ones my grandmother used to tell me of."

A warrior goddess, a deity, something of the legends.

Is that what she is now?

Hope grins with a tinge of sorrow, as he sits across Noel and Serah in the Academy headquarters. He sips on coffee, Noel drinks some cocoa (something Noel has never had before) and Serah prefers warm tea. He responds quietly, "I see a bit of her in you."

Noel's eyes spark with shock, "What? You're kidding."

"There's... that firm dedication to your beliefs you have. She had that too. At least, from what I can remember," he chuckles wryly, somewhat resembling the laughter of Sazh that he used to fondly appreciate years ago. He understands now what the years do to you, "It's been years since I've met her... About a decade now."

"I suppose things change a lot over a decade," Serah mumbles, looking at Hope as she says this. He's changed. Physically, that's a given, but also mentally and emotionally - she can just see the changes he's gone through over the years. She wonders if her sister would've liked to seen him progress over the years - see the young boy grow into a man. She probably would've liked to, Serah believes.

"I guess I'm living proof of that," they all laugh at his comment, but Hope gives that wry, sad grin that seems to be on his face far more often than he would like.

...

Dreams are just dreams, he knows better than anyone. When he was younger, he dreamed countless times of his mother and father, waiting for him back home, smiling at him as if she was never gone, never dead. He still dreams of Fang and Vanille in Oerba, the entire town covered in green and life, not the pale grey, crystal ashes that covered the barren wastelands.

But they are mere dreams - and he knows better than anyone that they are not real life.

He dreams of Lightning occasionally. Those are the rare dreams that manage to make him feel confused - because they are so real, so vivid, that he can't help but think that he was actually talking to her. But that should be impossible, right? He is a man of science, of research - it doesn't make sense that what happens in a dream is real life. Perhaps he is so desperate that he wants to think this is real - that his moments with her in his dreams are real. It's pathetic when he thinks about it, but he still can't shake that feeling off.

"Hope."

Her voice is just the way he remembers it from a decade ago. It's so vivid - a little too vivid. The way her aqua eyes stare at him so intensely gives him shivers. Her glare has always been like like a sharp blade, striking straight at the heart. It's frightening, how realistic the dream is - and sometimes he wishes he could run away from all of this, run away from the fact that he was so weak and still had childish fantasies of everybody coming back...

"Hope, don't run away. You're doing the right thing."

Am I, Light?

"Yes. Serah and Noel can't do this alone. They need you."

They do?

"They do. I need you, Hope."

He can vaguely make out a smile, a slight curve of her rose-tinted, confident lips. When a warm feeling wraps around him, and the pit of his stomach tingles with butterflies he hasn't felt since he joined the academy, he can't help but wonder if this is actually a dream - and he can't help but wish that he never wakes up, for he hasn't felt so comfortable in years -

"Light, I - "

A bright light zips and flashes across his mind like lightning.

When Hope opens his eyes, it becomes clear that a dream will be nothing but a dream.

They need me, he mumbles to himself - She needs me.

But what about him? What if he needs someone?

...

Crystal is unchanging. It is frozen in time, awaiting to vanish one day in the distant future. He knows better than anyone that one day, she will return. One magical day, she'll return. Like magic - yes, that's the word he's looking for. There will be no scientific way to explain how she comes back, but she will. Even after all those years of studying and researching, there is so much he has yet to understand, especially when it comes to her -

He doesn't dream nearly as much any more. There are only so many dreams you can have before you run out of them. Living an eternity in the chaos-filled world certainly depleted most of his pleasant dreams.

And he knows now better than ever that a dream is merely a dream - the fanciful illusion of the mind when you are at your weakest.

But she occasionally still appears.

"Hope."

You said I was doing the right thing - this was supposed to fix everything.

"You were doing the right thing, Hope."

Then... then why - ?

"I need your help."

Why me? Haven't I helped enough already? Haven't I given up my entire life to helping other for naught? What about my needs, Light? What if I need someone beside me? Someone who won't die suddenly, or disappear - someone who won't turn into crystal -

She doesn't respond, and he can't help but feel a pang of guilt. He's... it's not fair for her either. She fought for Etro all this time - and what did she get in return? The death of her sister? A chaos-filled world? It's just as difficult for her - he's complaining as if he's a fourteen-year-old child all over again. He can't go back to that -

I'm just a child after all, huh.

"You're brilliant, Hope."

Her soft voice, more gorgeous than he has ever remembered, comforts him.

"You're not the same as you were all those years. You're different. You are the only one who can help me now."

After the death of Serah, Hope Estheim vowed to never hope for the future ever again.

"You and I are partners, Hope. You have always been my only partner."

But when she says such a thing in such a beautifully hopeful voice, he can't help but look forward to the future as well.

...

Thirteen days is not a long time when compared to the eternity he has spent in the chaos-filled world.

"But we can do it, Light," he tells her through his headpiece.

"Hopeful about all this, aren't you?" he can here a bit of static as her voice reaches his ears. Her voice - her actual voice. Not just a hallucination of a dream, or the fragment of a distant memory. It's her, right now, to him.

"Well," he chuckles sincerely for the first time in years, perhaps decades or even centuries, "All thanks to you."

He can hear her lips form a beautiful smile as they decide to hope for the future one more time. This time, together.

...

the final thirteen days

...

Wow... this took me a long time to write. Just... I was in and out of the writing process for this, I can't believe it's actually done. Hmmm... It's more of a Hope central piece than anything. I loved how much Hope matured in XIII-2 and all, but as I watched the ending and how sad he looked, I couldn't help but feel that perhaps that there was a young boy in him wanting things to return to the happy past.

Well, I'm finally done with this.