Title: The Focus
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: T for minor coarse language and minor suggestive adult themes.
Summary: To make the impossible, possible. That had always been his focus. To deny his fate, to face his fears. He had done it before and here he was again, doing the impossible. Yet it was worth it, she was worth it. After-all, she was his focus. Three part songfic.
Beta: FearTheFallen, Grammar Nazi Supreme.
For: Said crazy, Grammar Nazi. She's also my sister ^^. Love her.
Song: Crush by David Archuleta
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIII or any characters thereof. Obsession on the other-hand...well of that I am thoroughly guilty.
Chapter One
"Sometimes you have to lie about stuff. To keep yourself going, because you're afraid. Or to protect someone else, so they don't get hurt. Sometimes, even the things that everyone in the whole world thinks are true turn out to be lies. At the end of the day, though, it's not the lie that matters, but what you do after you tell it. Work hard enough, and you can make it true." -Hope
I hung up the phone tonight,
The click of the phone into the receiver was deafening, loud in the perfect silence of the apartment, and yet it fell upon deaf ears. Why? Why after all this time, after four years, four years of denial, four years of frustration, of telling himself that it wasn't real; why after so many years, when he had finally begun to believe the lies that he had told himself, to smother those feelings that had plagued him for so long; why after all this time that it only took one phone call, one possibility, one spark of hope, to throw all that hard work away and ignite those suppressed feelings once again? It hadn't even been her on the other end of that call.
He had come home to his small apartment in New Eden after a long day at the University, throwing his books on the living-room couch with a uninterested grunt, only to find, to his surprise, that his message box was blinking, indicating that someone had called. It had been four years since The Fall, four years since their little band of lost souls, of desperate l'Cie, had tried to change their fate, to deny their inevitable destiny. They only had one another, could only find solace in one another, could only cleave to one another in desperation, and yet it was because of one another that they were able to defy the will of the Fal'Cie, to save a world, the very one that had condemned them, cursed them, tried to kill and stop them in every way it could. It had also been four years since he had walked away from that family, turning his back on the very people that had taught him, fought with him, saved him. There was confusion; there were misunderstandings; there was hurt hearts and feeling all around, but he had to do it. He had to leave them-he had to leave her-in order to save himself, to save her. It had been four years, and he had not talked to any of them since then. So, it was understandable for him to be shocked to find that little red button blink. Of course it could have been a wrong number, one of his fellow students trying to ask for help on the upcoming final exams. It could have been anything but what his heart was telling him, almost hoping for.
He had to have stared at that infernal message box for the last hour; he didn't know. He didn't know when he had stood up, his feet feeling like lead, when he had picked up the phone and pressed that button.
The ringing was deafening.
"Hello?" Snow. It was unmistakable. That voice was unmistakable, and, in response, he couldn't find his voice.
"H-Hi, Snow. Did you call?" There was silence for a brief second. Undoubtedly, he was trying to remember if he did call.
"Hope! Ah, Hope, it's good to hear from you. Listen! I have something important to ask you." His words were rushed, as if he feared he wouldn't be able to say them. "I know we haven't talked or seen each other in a while, and I know that you must be busy, being a University student and all, but it would mean the world to everyone, and I mean everyone, if you could come down to New Bodum this weekend." There it was, that swirling fire that started in his gut and would not stop until it had consumed all of him. He felt his hands go cold, his head starting to swim.
Snow continued, ignoring the silence. "You see, its Vanille's second birthday this weekend." Finally, an intake in breath.
Vanille. The name caused him to inhale a shaky breath, memories coming unbidden, closing his eyes momentarily. Serah and Snow's young daughter, as bubbly and as happy as her namesake, or so he had heard.
"Please Hope." There it was. That voice, Snow's best attempt at pleading. It still shocked him every time he heard it, even after all this time. So they had finally gotten desperate enough to seek out his phone number, to call him. They must have decided on this approach since the numerous attempts at contacting him by letters had all failed. He never opened one.
Vanille's birthday. It was an excuse. He didn't even know the child, hadn't been there for her birth, for her first birthday. He had left before then, never expecting to be there. This wasn't about the child; it was just an excuse, an excuse for him to be there.
Something happened for the first time.
It was just an excuse, but why did he pause? Why did he even consider it? He had promised himself; he had promised never to go there, to hope.
As if he sensed the hesitation, as if he knew everything in one of those rare moments of Maker given intuition, Snow gave one last plea, "We know that you might not come, but we wanted to try anyway. It was Lightning's idea. She really wants you here Hope. We all do." There it was, that raging inferno that set his blood to boiling, bringing back all those suppressed feelings. Those flashes of memory, those precious images of her, her smile, her smell, her warmth, they came unbidden, unwanted, burning their way into his brain.
Deep inside, it was a rush, what a rush.
Releasing another shaky breath, he gripped the phone, and it creaked from the strain in his hand. How weak he was. Before he knew it, he did the unthinkable. "What time do I need to be there?"
Again, silence. He could almost taste the shock, the elation, the hope. It made him sick. "All Right! Thanks so much! Serah he's coming! Just take the night tram the day before, we will pick you up. You can stay here with us. See you then. Bye Hope." Click. Deafening.
Why? Why did he even consider it? He had promised himself four years ago that it was for the best. That it was best for him to let go, to let go of her. He raised a hand and ran it through his long platinum blond hair. It was Lightning's idea. She really wants you here.
Did she? He closed his eyes, suddenly very weary. Of course she does; you are her friend, the boy she swore to protect.
Of course, the boy. That young fourteen year old boy who was sucked into a massacre, who watched the violent death of his mother before his eyes, who tripped and struggled after a battle-hardened soldier who saw him as a liability, a boy who fought for revenge, desperation, hope. That fourteen year old boy named Hope. The very same Hope who, during the restless nights of fleeing from soldiers, of fighting monsters, of escaping his fate, had suddenly and inexplicably fallen in love with his protector, his guardian. The fourteen year old boy that had fallen hard for twenty-one year old Lightning Farron, or so he had thought.
He had long told himself that what that boy had felt, those four years ago, was just a crush, a crush understandably formed for the one that had protected him when he had felt so alone, a crush for the tough, deadly soldier when he thought he needed that strength-strength to exact revenge on the one who he had thought had taken his mother from him, a crush on that beautiful smile that had told him he wasn't alone, a crush on those comforting hands that held his brand without disgust or fear, a crush that he at first thought was admiration-then just nerves, a crush that he was just happy to keep hidden deep in his heart-his Focus far more important. Yet, when the end had finally arrived, his brand finally gone, Cocoon resting peacefully on the surface of Gran Pulse, when he finally had a chance to breathe and take everything in, that crush that he was content to hide quietly in his heart had suddenly erupted in a burning fire that consumed his heart every time he looked at her, took his breath away every time she spoke to him.
Shaking his head in a futile attempt to clear the images from his head that were threatening to overwhelm his mind, Hope turned and proceeded to tread to the bathroom at the end of the hall, the urge for a cold shower overwhelming.
He never thought he would find an empty tram so comforting, not that he expected anyone on it. Traffic to New Bodum in the middle of winter was not really high. Besides himself, the only other occupant on the tram was a lone soldier sleeping at the other end of the compartment. The tram was dark, the only light coming from the occasional track light shining through the windows. It was comforting being alone, something he was quite used to, giving him time to calm himself, go over his thoughts.
'Cause the possibility,
It was late at night, the final tram on its way to New Bodum, a newly made division of New Eden located conveniently on the shore of a large lake several miles east of the central city. Hope never understood the need to recycle old names, an attempt to cleave to the past he supposed. Too many people have been doing that of late, Hope thought bitterly.
A flashing red light over the tram door caught his eye and flooded the dark compartment with its red glow, indicating that his destination was fast approaching, as well as the confrontation. He could already feel his breathing starting to escalate, his heart trying to rip out of his chest. Hope slowly placed his face in his hands, gritting his teeth. Why was he even here? The idea of the next hour was like a waking nightmare, to see them again after so long after what he had done, their pained looks of hurt, of abandonment, of her face.
That you would ever feel the same way, about me, it's just too much,
Suddenly he stood up and turned, slamming his gloved fist against the thick glass of the window behind where he was sitting. I had to, I had to. He had to escape, escape from the pain that constantly threatened to tear him apart, the pain that stabbed at his heart every time she ruffled his hair, every time she called him a kid, every time she placed herself in front of him, continuing to uphold that promise of protection, every time she left him behind. She will always see me like that, he said to himself, his words like venom even in his mind. That's why I had to leave, that's why I shouldn't even be here.
He could hear the hiss of the brakes, the slow decline in speed. Grabbing the small duffel bag that he had brought for the trip-he was never one to need too many thing-and slinging it over his shoulder, Hope slowly walked down the walkway, passing over the now waking soldier. Everything was is slow motion, the lights too blinding, his breathing way too quick, his heart way too heavy. Why was he doing this? Was he a masochist? Did he enjoy pain?
Just too much.
The entrance doors slid open with an added hiss, and the cool night air hit him fiercely. Good thing he had thought to dress accordingly. The tram station was oddly busy despite the late hour, people hurrying from one place to the other, blocking his field of vision.
He lazily eyed the time boards over his head and noticed there were still some departing trams scheduled to leave soon. He tilted his head in thought, his brain trying to work through the numb haze that had taken a hold in his head. He could just turn right around, step on one of those trams; it didn't matter where it went, as long as it was anywhere but here. There were plenty of excuses for him not to be here. Final exams for his last semester at the University were next week, not that he was in danger there; his grades had always been stellar. He could say we wasn't feeling well; he could say he already had plans that came up; he could just not say anything at all.
Why do I keep running from the truth,
Tightening his grip on his duffel strap, Hope turned to his left, fully determined to go forth with his plan until his ears picked up his name being called.
"Hope! Hope, over here!" Could everything in his body just cease to function with one word? Why? Slowly turning his head toward the sound, Hope looked through the throng of passing people and saw them. There they were. On the other side of the station they stood, the ones who haunted his dreams, his memories. On the other side of the station, Snow, looking like the day that Hope had last seen him, was waving his large arm, trying to catch Hope's attention, a large smile plastered across his face. Why was he smiling? Unsurprisingly, Serah stood next to him, her small frame looking even smaller next to her large husband, her head tilted to the side, that ever-present smile that made Hope like her the moment he met her.
All I ever think about is you.
If hearing their voices caused his head to swim, seeing them was a whole different experience. Hope had to run his gloved thumb over his duffel strap to remind himself that he a nineteen year old that stood in that tram station, not the fourteen year old who left them there.
Closing his eyes, Hope had to remind himself to breathe. His head felt like splitting open with all the voices battling for dominance. He shouldn't be here; there was no reason; there was no excuse; this would all end badly.
What in hell was he doing? Why in hell was he here?
Slowly opening his eyes, he tried to focus his blurry vision; that is when he saw her. There she stood, two spaces from Snow's side, looking like she had just jumped out of his memories and into this spiraling reality, dressed in loose-fitting brown pants and a light green blouse that blew slightly from the winter wind, her strawberry-blond hair in the same style she wore it four years ago. She stood staring at him, a look of disbelief and wonder in her eyes; her eyes...oh man her eyes.
You got me hypnotized, so mesmerized,
Hope let out a shuddering breath that he did not realize he had held in.
Ah, that was why.
And I've just got to know.
Earlier that Day:
Smack.
"OW! Damn it Sis, what was that for?"
Smack.
Lightning Farron did not consider herself to have many virtues. She was a battle hardened, highly trained weapon of optimal destruction. She did consider herself quite patient though. It was instilled into her from all those long nights on watch, those many hours that one had to wait in order to strike at the most opportune moment. But keeping up with that all hated gift of encompassing everything that pissed her off, Snow was always the exception.
"For being such an idiot! Why did you shove us into the speeder and drag us to the tram station?" Lightning nearly growled, arms crossed under her chest, glaring at the recovering Snow who quickly withered under her stare. Good, she still had it.
Lightning was pissed. It was one of her rare Fridays off, and she had planned on doing absolutely nothing all day long. She had spent a couple of hours by the lake, reading and watching Vanille play in the water, the toddler holding a special spot in Lightning's heart just as her mother did. She was just about to crash when Snow had intercepted her, pushed her to the speeder, saying something about having to leave, and the next thing she knew she was standing out in the cold tram station platform. Why were they even here?
"Please leave Snow alone, Sis. He knows what he's doing, just be patient." Serah said softly, busy trying to situate the toddler asleep on her shoulder.
Lightning turned her glare to Serah, which immediately softened. Giving a small sound of impatience and displeasure, Lightning pulled on her gloves and turned her back on the couple. What was up with those two? Were they waiting for someone? Snow would not say why they were at the Bodum tram station in the middle of the night, and Serah seemed to be in on it, an unwanted activity that she had been participating in far too often lately.
The minutes ticked by, and the group fell into a comfortable silence. Snow was shifting from one foot to the other, glancing constantly at the tram arrival times. Serah was rocking Vanille, humming slightly under her breath, lost in her own thoughts. Lightning leaned her head back on the stone pillar trying to quiet the rising uneasiness in her gut. She hated this place; it was here that everything had started to fall apart, those four long years ago; it was here at this exact tram station that he had left.
Do you ever think, when you're all alone,
Closing her eyes, she couldn't help the memories from taking over. She hadn't thought about him lately, choosing instead to burn those hurtful memories from her mind just like she did with the memories of her parents. Over the past four years she had tried to forget about his cute smile, the way he was always looking up at her, those bright green eyes full of hope and trust, those overpowering feelings of protection and determination. He had been hers. Her little brother, her charge, the one she had promised to protect and always be there for, her Hope.
All that we could be?
It had taken two full months after The Fall for the remaining shambles of what was left of the Sanctum to take full account of the casualties, one of them was a Sanctum employee named Bartholomew Estheim, Hope's father, killed in the unfortunate mass transformation of the entire Calvary division, the soldiers protecting him, into Cie'th.
It had been devastating to the young boy. In the span of a few months the fourteen year old boy quickly found himself an orphan, and Lightning found herself again looking right at her past, through Hope. All she could think of doing, all she could do, was hold him tight in her arms, silent for there were no words that could be said. Later she told him that she would continue to uphold her promise, the one made to him and his father, his protection. She had fully intended to take him in, raise him, try as best as she could to do what she should, given an undeserved second chance after her perceived failure with Serah. Yet, soon after, he was gone.
Lightning could feel a headache quickly approaching and raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"Ah, there it is." Snow exclaimed, an obvious joy in his voice. Lightning looked up to see that a tram had just docked at the platform, its doors opening. Who were they waiting for that gave Snow and even Serah such obvious anticipation? She hadn't known that anyone was coming.
People were bustling all across the platform, blocking the tram and the doors, causing even Snow to stand up higher in an attempt to find whoever it was. Just when she was about to suggest that they get closer in order to intercept whoever they were waiting for, Snow gave out a cry, indicating that he had found just that person.
"Hope! Hope, over here!" Snow yelled, waving his arms from side to side.
It had only taken one word, one name to freeze her heart, stop her breathing and still her mind. All she could do was slowly turn her head to the left, her eyes wide in shock, and as the throng of people gave way, she saw him.
The boy who she had loved, had cared for, the boy that had left her for reasons unsaid, whose memories had filled her with guilt and regret, was no longer a boy. Hope Estheim had left her as a gangly fifteen year old, a head shorter than her, and now stood before her a head taller. How old was he now? Nineteen? He stood not ten feet from her, dressed in a gray turtleneck that matched his still unique gray hair and black slacks, a black trench-coat to match, his hand holding the strap of his black duffel bag that was slung over his left shoulder. She was not focused on any of that. Her eyes were focused on his, those still beautiful green eyes that were literal gateways to his emotions, his heart always on his sleeve, and now was no exception.
For the first time in her life, Lightning Farron was absolutely speechless. She could do nothing and say nothing as she watched Hope intake a deep breath and approach them. Of course, just because she was rigid with shock didn't mean Snow was even close.
"Hope, my boy! How was the trip? You make it here okay?" Snow exclaimed, grabbing the reluctant man into an arm-lock. "Damn, you have grown so much. Look at this Serah." Snow turned around toward his wife, who was approaching and laughing, taking Hope with him.
"Okay, hero, let him breathe, he just got here. No doubt he's tired." Serah was smiling, clearly overjoyed to see Hope again. "How are you Hope?"
Finally being freed from Snow's clutches, Hope smiled lightly down at Serah and cleared his voice, which was, to Lightning's shock, much deeper. "Tired, but fine. Thanks Serah." His mouth opened to say something else, but it slowly closed as he changed his mind, his face pained with confliction.
As if it was his job to fill the silence, a job that he took very seriously, Snow slapped Hope's back with a resounding smack. "Well we can catch up later, but it's late and it's cold. Let's get you back to the house." As if suddenly remembering something, Snow turned his smiling face to Lightning, who was still staring at Hope with disbelief as if she was staring at a ghost who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Hey Sis, hasn't he grown up a lot?"
If it was up to Lightning she would have said that the entire tram station had gone deathly silent. She watched as Hope's face went noticeably pale, his head turning toward her slowly. She watched as he gave her a half-hearted grin, a hand raising to scratch the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. "Heh heh, hey Light," her name coming out in an exhaled breath.
She stood there staring at him for Maker knows how long. Hope looked over at the others in confusion. Finally finding her voice, Light willed herself to speak the question that was forefront on her mind, her voice coming out as a strained whisper. "What are you doing here?" If she was anyone but herself, Light might have winced at her bluntness, her obvious lack of appreciation for his appearance. That didn't stop the others from doing so.
Hope's eyes went wide in shock, his head snapping quickly toward Snow. The large man was currently scratching the back of his head in a nervous gesture, his eyes looking everywhere but at his shocked friend. "Like I said, we can catch up at the house; so come along everyone." He quickly switched to mission mode, reminiscent to when he had first shoved her into the speeder, and she found herself being not so gently pushed toward the waiting speeder, Serah quickly leading the way.
Yes, a headache was definitely in order.
Hope could not lie to himself, he was a very emotional person. It was just who he had always been and who he would always be, and there was no point in changing that. He hated the feeling of overwhelming emotions that always formed such a tight ball of nausea inside of his stomach that he always sought relief. That was why he reacted so violently to all of his emotions: anger, fear, sorrow...love. It was if some unspoken instinct told him that doing so would give him the badly wanted relief from the overwhelming cascade of emotions rolling through him. It was because of that very tendency that he had to leave, distancing himself from the cause of the most violent emotion he had ever experienced. He had made an effort to spend much of that time away to work on his self-control, which was the only reason he could sit quietly in the back of the speeder without clawing at the door in an attempt to escape.
The air was so thick with tension that Hope could barely breathe. Not a word was said the entire way except by, of course, Snow, who continued to ramble on about changes in New Bodum and other things that Hope was not really paying attention to. Instead, he sat in the back seat of the speeder on the very left edge of the seat, duffel in his lap, attempting to distract himself by looking at the buildings of New Bodum as they quickly passed by; so much had changed since he was last here. He tried to keep a running tally of all the changes in his mind, anything to keep him from turning his head and looking to his right at the seat's other quiet occupant. Realizing his emanate failure, he instead took a short intake of breath to prepare himself and chanced a small turn of his head for just a quick look.
Lighting sat as far on the edge of the seat as he, her attention riveted to a certain spot of the back of the seat in front of her, her face in a slight scowl, clearly in deep thought. Hope smiled slightly at this despite himself. It was good to see that some things just did not change.
The speeder finally began to slow as it approached its destination, a beautiful house overlooking the wide sprawling lake, built in the style currently popular throughout the city. Snow parked the speeder in front of the house and then hurried around to open the door for Serah, who was still holding the sleeping child in her arms. Hope, opening the door himself, slowly exited the speeder, taking the time to admire the beautiful house and the clear cool night air. He had always loved nighttime on Pulse, to stare at the multitude of stars winking at him from the heavens.
"Well, welcome to the base; not bad if I do say so myself." Snow exclaimed, walking up next to Hope, smiling proudly. "Me and the guys from NORA built it ourselves. What do you think?"
Serah, walking towards the door, gave a chuckle as she turned around to her husband. "No you didn't silly-the village built it-you guys just watched."
"We supervised; that's very important!" Snow said with emphasis, a look of disappointment on his face and almost a slight pout that made Hope smirk. He was about to tell Snow that he thought the house was beautiful but was cut off as Lightning rushed between them and rushed to the front door, blowing past everyone without a word. As the door slammed shut, everyone stood still and silent.
Serah, turning around, looked at Snow with a look of exasperation, "I told you Snow."
Snow grimaced, his voice serious and almost wise in a way so unlike him that Hope was almost shocked. "Just trust me okay?"
As if that wasn't even a question, Serah nodded slightly and followed her sister into the house, quietly closing the door behind her.
It was silent once again, nothing but the calm wind and the occasional outcry of wildlife in the distance. Finally, Snow turned to Hope and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I lied to you. Obviously Lightning didn't know you were coming, but we have tried everything. It was hard enough just to contact you. So I thought since you and her were so close that maybe you would come if she asked." He paused, taking a moment to join Hope in gazing at the stars above, his voice growing quiet. "I still don't know why you left, and I don't really care in knowing right now. All I want, all we want, is just for you to be here, that's all. And maybe..." He paused looking down at Hope. "Maybe, we can figure out the rest later."
Hope listened to him, keeping his attention on the heavens above. He had already forgave Snow almost immediately about the lie, more concerned about the current situation. He was confused about the reason why but decided at that point that he really didn't care.
After some more silence, Hope realized Snow was waiting for a reply, assurance that he would stay. What had he done to himself? Here he was in a place he swore to never come back to, with people he never thought to see again, to see a woman who, at the moment, was so upset at his sudden appearance that she refused to acknowledge him; not that it worried Hope. It was just how she usually dealt with things. If there was anything Hope knew, it was Light, and her initial solution to things that upset her was to distance herself either emotionally or physically.
Where this thing could go?
With the help of the cool night air and the chance to just breathe, Hope felt the realization slowly creeping into his brain to reach solid understanding. It had all been a hope, a try, a chance to see the possibility that maybe all that was required was time. He was older now, more mature, more in control. Maybe he had just wanted to see if now it could all change and everything could be different.
Hope sighed slightly to himself. He was already here and there was no point in turning back unless he wanted to walk home. Maybe he would just stay the night and then head back to his apartment in the morning. So, at least tonight he would stay. Glancing back up at the pleading eyes of Snow, Hope quietly assured the man. "I understand. Thank you."
Four years earlier:
It was maddening. Hope bit down slightly on his right fist, trying in failure to control the sudden urge to scream in frustration. The status of orphan was still very new to Hope, and for the millionth time he found himself sorely missing his Mom. Not only was she beautiful and kind, she was a great Mom, always being there if he needed to vent his frustration, always there if he needed advice; except now. Of course he now had his little makeshift family of former l'Cie, but he found himself hesitant to talk to any of them about the situation. Snow was definitely out of the question, Hope finding it hard to picture any success in a serious conversation. Serah was, of course, kind, but Hope had only just met her and felt reluctant to talk about such sensitive matters. That left only one person. Hope sighed in resignation, Sazh at least seemed wise and understanding.
Everyday since the Fall, Sazh made sure to take the time to pause and thank whoever would listen above for his boy, the son he loved so much. He couldn't help but smile as Dajh continued to ramble on in excitment about his latest trip to the Chocobo pen, an absolute favorite for the young boy. However, it was well past noon, and always being the responsible father, Sazh hurried his son back to the house for his son's required afternoon nap.
As he approached his home built next to the current established airstrip, the man noticed someone waiting outside the front of his home. After some time he realized it was Hope, and though he was mildly surprised at his unexpected visit, the older man was still pleased to see him, smiling in greeting and waving in earnest. "Hope! How's it going? I've been meaning to stop by and see you guys again, but its been so busy. What can I do for you?"
It quickly became apparent that something was wrong with the young boy as he neither smiled nor answered right away, instead looking down at his sneakers. Sazh figured almost instantly what Hope was looking for. "How about you come inside. I'll make some tea."
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Sazh had quickly ushered the somber boy into his home, placing him at the table as he quickly put Dajh down for his afternoon nap. After making some tea and setting it before the boy, Sazh got straight to the point and asked the quiet boy what was on his mind. He had expected the boy to unleash the anguish of the loss of his parents, the frustration of being a former l'Cie among people who still didn't trust them, anything but what he did tell him. Eventually the boy broke into a long stream of confessions, as if he had to let it all out to keep it from eating him away. He told of his past feelings for the ex-soldier throughout the few months on their journey and the transformation of those feelings into what they were now: a longing to protect her, to make her smile, to hold her hand, to help her, to always be with her. Hope finally took a breath, hanging his head as if afraid to look at the older man, "So I just don't know what to do. I feel all of these things and they are just so powerful, all I ever do is think about her, and...I just don't know what to do. This is just so crazy."
Silence. Placing his head in his hand, all Sazh could do was sigh in frustration. He understood why Hope had come to him, the man was older, and the boy needed advice. Sazh was always happy to offer just that to anyone who would listen, but he found himself reluctant to give it this once. He knew it would not be what the boy wanted to hear, and he knew right away what was going on.
Hope thought he was in love with Lightning, and Sazh realized right away all the problems with that. There were a thousand excuses on why this was not a good thing, one being the main word: thought. Sazh realized the boy was young, grief-stricken, and, more than likely, he was just transferring the loss of his parents into the next best thing, his mentor. He better take this slow. "Well Hope, from all that you just told me, it seems like you think you are in love with Lightning."
Hope's head shot up quickly, his eyes widening in shock and slight fear, stuttering, trying in vain to deny the fact, a blush rising quickly in his face.
Is it real or just another crush?
Sazh raised his hand to calmly stop the scared boy, "Hey now, I just said you think you are love, and that is most likely what it is. Its natural. You lost so much and she protected and helped you through a very hard time in your life. It's pretty much expected for this to happen." He smiled lightly at the boy to assure him. "It's just a crush."
Ruffling his mess of blond hair and then his eyes, Hope tried to wake himself up from the lingering dream. The sunlight was weakly coming in through the bedroom window, indicating the early hour. Hope had become an early riser of late. Looking around him, he reminded himself on where he was and why he could possibly be there. Giving one last final sigh, he stood, grabbing his duffel shoved under the bed. After dressing himself and washing his face, not even trying to tame the wild mop of unconquerable hair, Hope took a quick look outside the bedroom window, smiling slightly on how damn picturesque everything looked.
Assuming that everyone else was still asleep, Hope decided to take a small walk outside in the crisp morning air, hoping to have a moment to think before meeting the others again. Slowly opening the bedroom door, he quietly made his way down the stairs, smiling slightly at the sound of Snow's snores from down the hall. Pausing on his way out to get a glass of water, he walked into the kitchen and started to open each cabinet looking for the cups.
Do you catch a breath, when I look at you?
"They are in the far left."
So this is what a heart attack feels like. Hope suddenly froze, the sound of her soft voice effectively stopping his search. He didn't even notice that he was gripping the cabinet handle so hard his knuckles had turned white. Swallowing loudly, he slowly turned his head. Lightning sat at the very end of the kitchen bar, her face in her left hand, a cup of hot tea in the other, eyes cold and serious. Even this early in the morning, even after so long, he still found it hard to breathe when he looked at her.
Too busy cursing himself for not thinking that she would also be up-who did he think started him on his early riser habit?-he didn't realize he had been staring. "Unless it has changed, you always have a glass of water when you wake up in the morning. The cups are in the far left cabinet."
For a moment he had indeed forgotten his original intent. Resisting the urge to shake his head, he instead thanked her softly and reached for a cup. He could feel her watching him as he drank. Realizing that obeying the voice in his head that screamed at him to turn and run would be a stupid idea, Hope sighed and accepted his fate. He was so dead.
Turning to her, he leaned back on the counter, at least trying not to seem half as scared as he felt. The ex-soldier continued to stare, her eyes always being the one key into his closed mind, reading every emotion that rolled around within him. Silence ruled as if neither one seemed willing to break it; so when she finally spoke, her voice quiet yet strong, it echoed throughout the kitchen. "Why are you here?" Always to the point. He would have smiled if he didn't feel like crying.
Looking down at his glass, his voice was equally soft. "Snow asked me to."
The loud crack of her palms landing on the counter-top caused Hope to jump slightly, the sound of her stool scrapping the hardwood floor following after. "Bullshit! Its been four years Hope! Four years of us trying to find you, contact you, to try to understand why you..." Her voice, loud and angry, suddenly stopped, the sound choked off as she turned her head sharply, not willing to go on.
Placing the empty cup on the counter top, Hope unconsciously walked slowly up to where she sat, leaning down on his folded arms.
Are you holding back, like the way I do?
His face was mere inches from hers. She still refused to look at him, her face scowling at the floor beneath her, small tears becoming evident in her eyes. It was taking every bit of his new self-control to prevent him from taking her face into his hands, to wrap his arms around her.
'Cause I'm trying, trying to walk away,
Oh how selfish he had been. The realization made him absolutely sick. One memory that he held especially dear was the last conversation he had with his Dad.
"Dad I hate to run out on you-"
"You're not running!" It was the only time Hope had ever seen his Dad angry, ever heard him yell. "This is not running away. You've made a choice. You'll survive, and do what needs to be done."
Sorry Dad, but that's all I've ever done, is run.
Almost everyday since the day he left he had formed exactly what he would say to her in his head. Each word and sentence carefully planned out, but now, now that the time had finally come, he could not remember a single word.
"I can't explain why I left. I can't even explain why I'm here. You have every right to be angry, to hate me, to not want to see me, but I never meant to hurt you Light...you of all people. If you believe nothing else, at least believe that."
But I know this crush ain't going away.
She lifted those beautiful blue eyes to stare straight back into his. Her features softening slightly as she gazed back, shock and disbelief. All Hope could do was pray she wouldn't hear his pounding heart. It was then and there that he gave up, that he stopped running, that he realized that it all didn't matter. Sure, it could all be impossible; it could just be a stupid crush, but Hope Estheim just didn't give a damn anymore.
She was angry; she was hurt; she was so many things that she couldn't even begin to describe them all. How could he just appear back into her life like this after she had all but forgotten him? It was like a wound, freshly opened despite the thought that it was healed. Almost everyday since the day he left, she had thought exactly what she would say and do in her head. Each word, sentence, and action carefully planned out, but now, now that the time had finally come, now that he stood before her, his beautiful green eyes filled with pleading, sadness, now...she could not remember any of it.
"Hey Sis, did you make the coffee?" If there was one thing you could count on Snow for, it was to be there exactly when you didn't need him, and what was worse was he didn't even notice. The big oaf just walked into the kitchen, oblivious to what was going on, shirtless again despite the multiple times Lighting had told him to wear one. Serah, following her husband, appeared in the doorway, holding a waking Vanille. At least she noticed that something might have been going on, her glancing from Lighting and Hope to the oblivious Snow.
As if deciding it was useless, Serah smiled at the shocked couple. "Morning Sis, Hope. Did you sleep well? I'll make coffee in a second. Snow, put it down." Hurriedly placing the waking toddler in the high chair, Serah rushed after her husband before he could make a mess.
Reminding herself not to growl, Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose, asking the same question she had been asking herself almost everyday for the past five years. Why did she decide to live with them again? She was in the middle of controlling the evident signs of an incoming headache when she heard one of the most beautiful sounds in her life, Vanille's laugh.
Looking up across the bar, she couldn't help but smile despite the turmoil inside of her, one being shock. The blue-eyed babe was clapping her hands, smiling as wide as she could at...Hope? The man in question had turned toward the child, a smile wide and evident on his face, a palm outstretched to the toddler, who was slapping it with glee. Vanille was a very happy child, very friendly, but Lightning had never seen her take to anyone almost as instantly as she had with Hope. Her sudden smile started to fade as she turned her attention to Hope and his very rare smile.
Lightning could probably count all of the times Hope had truly smiled on one hand. He had always been a serious boy and the fight of their lives as l'Cie left little room for laughter. It hadn't improved with the death of his parents either. However, as the ex-soldier continued to gaze at the smiling young man, her emotions settled and all she could think about was how beautiful that rare smile was.
"Looks like she took to you right away. That's good." Serah had turned around and placed a toddler's cup full of milk for the child, who paused in her play to eagerly drink it down. Sitting down with a cup of fresh coffee, Serah laughed, "Can't believe she's two already."
"She's beautiful." The way he said it made Lightning look back at him, a look of wonder on his face, his green eyes sparkling.
"All right, coffee, thank the Maker." Snow said, with a sigh, as he hugged a large mug of the hot drink, joining the others at the table. After taking a few sips, it must have hit him instantly because he whirled around quickly and slapped Hope on the back so hard the young man stumbled. "Lots to do today. We got to celebrate! Everyone is coming over, and I know they would love to see you Hope."
Recovering from the abuse of Snow's show of affection, Hope straightened, the smile gone from his face. "Yeah. I was just headed out for a walk around. You know, see all that has changed. It won't take me long."
How he managed to drink such a large cup so fast was beyond her because Snow stood up from his chair, his cup empty.
"Great idea, give me a minute to get dressed and I'll show you around." And with that the large man hurried out of the kitchen leaving a slightly shocked Hope behind.
"Okay, well...be back soon." Lightning watched as he left the kitchen as well, the soft click of the front door closing following shortly after.
"Are you going to at least give him a chance Sis?" Lighting looked up at her sister, who was gazing back with concern. She didn't have to ask who she was talking about.
Not wanting to meet her gaze, Lighting instead got up and started to clean the already spotless kitchen. "There's nothing to talk about Serah. He left, and he won't tell me why and that's that."
"But he came back didn't he? Don't shut him out Claire." Her voice was soft, almost sad, and the older Farron paused in her cleaning despite herself. Again she didn't have to ask what Serah was talking about, she knew quite well.
Lightning had tried to do what was right, to raise Serah in the absence of their parents, to provide and protect. Yet, in her efforts to be strong, she ended up pushing away the very person she strove to protect with that very strength.
"She's your sister, and you're shutting her out!" Damn you Snow.
Feeling her face form a scowl, Lighting grunted in disgust. "Okay, I'll talk to him. Maybe this time he will tell me what's wrong." Throwing the cloth into the sink, Lightning turned and walked out of the kitchen. "Maybe this time he won't run."
Going away.
End Chapter 1
Now a word from our Beta:
Hi, I'm FearTheFallen, and I approve of this fanfic. READ IT. (^.^) b
A/N: Thanks for reading. I know it was long and complex, but that is just how I write and I accept that. Even though I write purely for my own enjoyment, I would love to know what you think, since I am always wishing to improve. Please review with any advice or just to leave a comment. More info can be found on my profile. -Shinkan-tan