Author's Note: So, this is my first FFXIII fanfic. It will be rated M for language, mature themes, sex, and extreme violence.

Also, I don't own Final Fantasy. Wish I did, though. ON WITH THE STORY!

"Hope, where were you? It's 2:30 in the morning!" Lightning exclaimed, shifting from her position on the recliner. She was dressed like she should have been in bed hours ago. A dark blue, silk night dress covered her shapely figure.

"Its none of your damn business. And you aren't my mom, Farron. Stop trying to be." Hope walked through the living room and started up the stairs before stopping and turning to face Lightning. "And what the fuck are you doing in my house? Show yourself out, before I do it for you." Hope glared at the pink haired woman, willing her to move with his cold, green eyes.

"Hope, what's wrong? Don't you love me anymore?" Lightning almost fell to her knees, as tears began to flow down her face.

"No, Farron. I don't love you anymore. You lost that and my respect 3 weeks ago. Now get out of my house before I call the police." Hope stood firm, as Lightning collected herself and walked out the door. Hope swiftly followed and made sure the door was locked.

It wasn't always like this.

It had been 4 years since the Orphan Attack. Vanille and Fang were still in crystal stasis down on Gran Pulse – and became a statue of the last stand made by the l'Cie. Snow and Serah lived happily in New Bodhum, and were expecting their second child. Sazh was seeing a woman in New Bodhum, and quickly took up residence there with his son, Dajh. Lightning now lived in Palumpolum, as did Hope. Hope was eighteen now, and a senior in high school. He only had two more weeks until he graduated. But the Maker just had to throw a monkey wrench into Mr. Estheim's plans, as per the norm.

September, 10 months ago:

Hope fell to his knees at the muddy gravesite. His cries of anguish could be heard on Pulse. Four years ago, his mother, Nora was killed during the Hanging Edge Incident. Now his father, Bartholomew had passed away of cancer. Hope was all alone now. He didn't have anyone to live with, and it seemed his life was slowly slipping away from him. He spent four hours crying in the rain. When he finally returned back to his father's, no, his house, he quickly went upstairs to his room. He grabbed his survival knife, not unlike Lightning's, and opened it. He thought about it for a minute and brought the knife with him downstairs into the living room. He quickly scribbled what were to be his final words to anyone who happened to come by and stabbed the knife through the top of the wooden coffee table and the corner of the note. He then walked out to the balcony. Hope stood on the ledge and prepared to jump off. "Goodbye, everyone...not like you'll miss me anyway." And with that, Hope leapt.

"You idiot!" Hope looked up while falling. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. Lightning. He looked away before feeling someone grab him around the waist, and heard the snapping of fingers.

Hope was sitting on the loveseat bundled up in blankets while Claire 'Lightning' Farron sat down next to him. "Why, Hope? Why would you jump? Do you ever think? Did you think how much you would hurt everyone if we found you dead?" Pause. "Did you think about how I would feel?"

"I'm just the red-headed step-child around here, Lightning. No one gives a damn about me. I'm all alone, in case you haven't noticed. My parents are dead. I go to school and get bullied and beaten because everyone knows I was a l'Cie. I come home and I cry myself to sleep. I'm not worth anything anymore." Hope shook violently as he sobbed, all his sadness finally coming out. Lightning embraced him tightly as Hope seemed to cry endlessly on her shoulder. Lightning sighed. 'How did it all come to this?' She wondered. Hope was such a strong boy. Sure, he started off insecure, but by the end of the crisis, he was a man in Lightning's eyes. And slowly but surely she began to fall for him. All she could do for him tonight was be with him and pray that he calmed down. 'Maker, I swear I will fix this.'

Hope woke up with a nasty crick in his neck. He quickly adjusted himself, and noticed a weight on his lap and on his shoulder. He looked down to see Lightning cuddled up to him. He looked at his wrists. Slashed up and down, from all of the times he had cut himself. 'It feels good,' he'd tell himself. 'It takes away the pain.' He looked down and wondered if he'd be able to get away with murdering himself now. The clock read 4:54 AM. Lightning was fast asleep. The knife was still embedded in the wood. 'That would make too much noise…fuck it.' He got up from his position and set Lightning back the way she was. He pulled the knife out from the wood and closed it. What he didn't notice was the fact that Lightning was wide awake, with her eyes closed. She was watching him though. When she heard him go into the bathroom, she relaxed a little. When she heard a sigh of relief, she relaxed even more. When she heard a thump on the floor, Lightning flew off of the couch and to the bathroom to see Hope on the floor with deep gashes in his wrists and forearms, the shower was still turned on, the floor stained with his blood. Lightning tore the curtain off of its hook, and cradled his body.

'Hope, what's the matter with you?'

Ok, so that's the first chapter. I don't know where this idea came from, but I'm excited writing it. I hope you all will enjoy reading it. Any reviews would be appreciated, as well as constructive criticism. Flames won't really hurt me, only make me stronger.

~Dynamite Eagle