A/N – [Achievement Unlocked]: First FFXIII fanfic written. *fistpump*

Just a heads-up: this fic deals with some dark topics (self-harm/cutting, to be precise), so if that squicks you… well, don't read, I guess. :D

This might turn into a multi-chapter fic, depending on what you guys think. Enjoy!

xXxXxXx

"Get some rest while you can, kid. You never know when some more of those Pulse machines will show up."

Hope looked up, shocked at the moderately kind words. He hadn't wanted to admit how the days' battles had exhausted him, seeing how Lightning was always charging on full-speed-ahead and complaining about how Hope slowed her down. "O-okay." And then, more hesitantly: "…Thanks, Light."

Lightning nodded curtly. "I'll take watch. Rest." And with that she was off, no doubt to find a good vantage point for guard duty.

As soon as Lightning had left, Hope sighed and gingerly dropped to the ground, his overworked muscles finally giving out beneath him. He groaned quietly; everything hurt. But he hadn't complained about being tired, not once. He didn't want Lighting to leave him behind, like she had almost done the other day. Thank goodness for that Odin, Hope thought. If it hadn't distracted her, I would be all by myself now…

Hope took in the complete desolation of his surroundings. Nothing but miles and miles of rock…

But… aren't I alone now anyway? Hope tilted his head back until it rested against the boulder behind him and closed his eyes. Mom…

I miss you.

Sitting in the dark with nothing but the cold, bleak landscape surrounding him, Hope couldn't help but remember the warm days at the seaside city of Bodum spent with his mother. If he had known that he'd lose her so quickly, maybe Hope wouldn't have taken her as much for granted…

As tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, Hope couldn't stop the tears from leaking down his cheeks. He remembered being so scared at the Hanging Edge, cowering in fear at the sound of gunshots, planes, screams… and he remembered how his mother had bravely stood up and followed Snow, taking his extra gun. "Moms are tough," she'd said.

"Oh god–" he whispered, the moonlight shining off his tear-stained face.

She'd died fighting – fighting to protect him. A wave of self-hatred rose up inside of Hope. She died for me, because I was too scared to fight for myself. If only I was braver, she wouldn't have had to protect me.

I'm pathetic…

Reaching into his pocket, Hope pulled out a sharp folding-knife, the one that Lightning had loaned him not too long ago. Pulling off the orange cloth on his forearm, he exposed his wrist, the skin covered in angry red lacerations.

Mom…

He could barely see through the tears anymore, but that didn't matter. He'd done this so many times lately that he didn't need to see. With more enthusiasm than he'd ever had using his boomerang, Hope brought the knife to his arm.

Mom, I'm sorry.

Hope could feel himself becoming lightheaded, but he didn't, couldn't stop. Slash, cut, rip.

It's my fault you're dead.

xXxXxXx

Lightning hadn't been anticipating an attack from the direction they had come from – she and Hope had been thorough in their survey of the area. So when she heard what she interpreted as a distressed noise coming from Hope's direction, she was startled. She grabbed her gunblade and sprinted to her teammate.

Needless to say, Lightning did not find Hope engaged in combat with a pack of pantherons... although she would later wish that that had been the situation.

At first, all that was visible through the dark was Hope's collapsed form. Cautiously, Lightning approached him, confused. I was sure I heard something… Then she saw the blood.

The sight of Hope's mangled wrist made Lightning cry out. Rushing to his side, Lightning stepped on something hard – looking down, she discovered that it was a knife, completely covered in blood. With a pang of panic, she realized that it was hers - the one she had loaned Hope a few days ago. And in one horrible moment, Lightning understood.

Kneeling down, she propped Hope back up against the rock behind him and bandaged his arm. Two Curas and a potion later, Hope's blood level and breathing were back to normal. Lightning sat beside him, staring at the obvious tear-tracks left behind on his pale face. Blinking back a few tears of her own, Lightning slipped her slender hand into Hope's cold one. She looked once again at the bloodied knife on the ground, at the discarded orange arm cloth, only two words running through her mind:

One was "Hope."

The other was "Why?"