Hope went about his morning, finding the fal'Cie providers as compliant and vacuous as the night before. As he washed and dressed, he felt oddly on edge. Though his second dream may not have had the same horrific quality as his first, it left him disquieted and uneasy. To be able to do nothing but dream seemed a sad, empty fate.

"Good morning, Hope," Raines said as Hope entered the dining room the next day. He held a cup of steaming liquid with his long fingers. "Did you sleep any better?"

"Yes, thank you," Hope lied. He ordered breakfast and sat down, exchanging morning greetings with the others. Dajh shoved yute cookies into his mouth at an alarming rate, Sazh half-dozed over his cup, and Lightning glared at him over her jale bread. Hope could not tell if she was angry or not-Lightning's default expression often involved glaring.

Raines glanced at Dajh. "The young man appears to have a stomach made of iron."

"Didn't get that from me. I'm going into sugar shock just looking at him," Sazh quipped and took another sip from his cup.

Lightning turned her glare on Raines. "I had a nightmare last night, too, after I went to sleep."

Raines shrugged. "As did I. As I said, this seems a common affliction. Why worry about what can't be helped? They're only dreams. It must be coincidence."

"Coincidence," Lightning repeated, scowling.

"If you have a better explanation, I'm listening."

"Never mind. I'd like to see this place, please," she said, sounding as if the "please" might have hurt her to say.

"I'd be happy to show you." Raines stood. "Still don't trust me?"

Lightning did not respond, except to cross her arms.

"I understand. Really, I do." Raines stood. "I'd be suspicious of me, too. Now, if you'd like the tour, follow me."

The tour provided little of interest. The large library's books had rotted away. Many rooms with unknown purposes stood empty or filled with broken furniture. There were many bedrooms, all the same size and shape. A communal bath was so rusted and ruined that the water fal'Cie did not appear when summoned. The tower did not appear meant for permanent residency-it reminded Hope more of an inn than anything else.

The rest of the fal'Cie that Raines showed them were as simple as the water fal'Cie. None provided any better answers as to why they had been put in the tower, or what the tower had been built for. There was no dust, thanks to the environmental fal'Cie, but everything else seemed sad and broken. The entire tower stood as a mausoleum for a people long since dead and forgotten.

Raines stopped by a rusted door with the strange metalwork that proclaimed it a fal'Cie. "Through here are the lower levels. You don't need to see that. There are only monsters beyond this point-strong ones, too."

"Lots of Pulse power," Dajh said dreamily.

"I want to see for myself," Lightning proclaimed. "Sazh, take Dajh back upstairs."

Raines and Hope sighed almost at the exact same time. They exchanged a small smile. Lightning was a little stubborn for her own good. Hope stretched his gloves across his wrist and made sure his long hair remained tied back. He realized Raines watched him, but when he glanced over, Raines looked away.

Sazh frowned. "You sure you got this?"

"If we need you, we'll call," Lightning said.

"And I'll come, too, and save everyone with my great fire magic!" Dajh cried as Sazh ushered him back up the worn stone steps.

"It'll only cost everyone all their hair," Sazh muttered as he walked away.

Lightning glanced back at Hope and Raines, then faced the door. "Right," she said. "Open!"

With the sound of metal wrenching against metal and centuries of disuse, the fal'Cie rose from the floor, retreating into the ceiling above. Its small feminine face peered down at them with an arched brow before disappearing into the ceiling above. Its ascent took several minutes. Hope focused so much on the fal'Cie that he did not notice the score of cryohedrons bouncing towards them, growing bigger as they cast Blizzard spells on themselves, until they were almost upon him.

"Damn!" Lightning cried. "Close!" Apparently, Hope had not been the only one distracted.

Metal screeched, and the door started to lower-at the same leisurely pace as it had risen. The cryohedrons continued to advance. Hope slung Fire spell after Fire spell, pummeling their oncoming opponents with his magic. Apparently wishing to keep her distance, Lightning did the same, backing up as she cast. Raines alone dodged back and forth through the door, his dual-bladed gunblade alight with Flamestrike. Any cryohedron unlucky enough to get too close quickly burnt to component parts. When centurions lumbered into the hall after the cryohedrons, the fal'Cie door finally slid shut.

"They don't stop coming," Raines said, turning to Lightning. "There's some sort of generator down there that constantly produces Pulse automata." He glanced at Hope. "They're certainly easier to fight with three people, though."

"That's why we go out in teams. One person can be overwhelmed. Three can perform useful strategies." Lightning nodded and turned to the stairs. "It's safe!"

"Aw," Dajh said as he ran back down. "I was hoping to save people! You shoulda left me some bad guys to fight!"

Sazh sighed and rubbed his face as he descended the stairs. "Wonderful. My son is mini-Snow."

"Have you seen enough?" Raines asked Lightning.

"For now." Lightning started walking to the stairs. "After lunch, I want to see the communication array you used to put out the distress signal."

"As you wish. It's old and took me some time to repair, but still in working order," Raines said with a sigh.

"Lunch sounds good." Sazh took Dajh's hand and started back up the steps.

Dajh beamed. "Yay, more yute cookies!"

Lightning glanced back at Hope. "Coming to lunch with us?"

Hope shook his head. "In just a moment."

Lightning gave Raines a sharp glare, then continued to head up the stairs. "See you later, then." After a few moments, she, Sazh, and Dajh were out of sight, their footsteps fading as they grew more distant.

Hope smiled at Raines. "I appreciate you showing us around."

"It's nothing." Raines studied him, his gaze as intent as ever. "I'm happy to have people to show this tower around to. I'm sorry it's not more exciting."

"Well, the lower levels seem exciting. Did you explore them well?"

"Hardly at all. I was by myself and sorely taxed. I moved fast and barely had a chance to look around."

"So there's no elevator, huh? Not like at Taejin's Tower. It plays these really pretty musical notes when you ride it."

"A musical elevator?" Raines smiled. "How lovely. I miss music."

"Do you? So do I. I used to be able to play the piano, but it's been so long, I doubt I could play anything better than the fal'Cie's Lullaby." Hope frowned as he thought of the lullaby, which promised that the fal'Cie would take care of humanity for all time. "Not that I'd want to anymore."

"Who could blame you? I once took piano lessons as a boy, too. My father insisted upon it. It was the only artistic thing I was any good at-all things being relative, of course. I also took drawing lessons, sculpting lessons, painting lessons, and dancing lessons. The worst was dancing. During one of my lessons, I tripped over my own feet, clutched onto my partner's skirt, and wound up ripping it off when I went tumbling off the stage. My father's disappointment over my enlistment in the Guardian Corps was likely tempered by his relief that I would cease making a mockery of art."

Hope laughed. "You couldn't have been that bad. You look like you move well." He paused and tried not to let his face heat when he realized how his last statement could be taken.

"Oh, that's all military precision. No true grace to it, I'm afraid." Raines studied him. "I should think you were very good at the piano. You have the hands for it-very lovely, with long fingers."

There was no stopping Hope's face from heating after that. "Er. I was all right. Decent enough at recitals-I wasn't going to become professional, or anything. I was better at school."

"Ah, an intelligent boy. I'm sure you did your father proud."

"Yeah." Hope stared down at his boots, his heart feeling heavy at the mention of his father. "He couldn't complain about my grades. Just about the cost of all the books I liked to read."

"I am truly sorry about your father. I wish I could change things." Raines moved over to the wall, where a rectangular window looked out upon the dusty horizon, interrupted only briefly by the wooded Nenvan Wode nestled in the canyon valley. "I wish I had fought harder against becoming a fal'Cie puppet. That my men had not been lost. That your father had truly been saved."

"We all wish we could change things. We're just lucky that Fang and Vanille saved what they could." Hope leaned against the stone wall and studied Raines. Though nearly twice his age, Raines seemed easy to talk to. He resembled Lightning in many ways-or at least the old Lightning. He bore the same regret that she once had, but without her fierce anger. Instead, he bore his regret like a man walking in chains and fetters.

"Are you all right?" Hope asked.

"You'll leave tomorrow, I suppose." Raines glanced back. "And I'll be here, all alone. Again."

"You could always come with us."

"Back out there?" Raines glanced out the window suspiciously. "I am not made for living in the wild. No, I cannot leave this place."

"But Mr. Raines-"

"Call me Cid. Please."

Hope smiled a bit. "Cid, then. I was going to ask you what's more important-living here, alone, or out there, with us?"

"Why does it have to be mutually exclusive? Why can you not stay here, with me?" Cid shook his head and headed to the stairs. "We should go get lunch. I'm sure you're as hungry as I am."

Hope pushed himself off the wall, feeling as if something important were slipping from his fingers. He grasped at it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Cid paused on the stairs and glanced back. "You didn't offend me. In any case, you're not the one who should be apologizing for anything."

"Then I won't apologize."

"Heh." Cid beckoned. "Come, let's go find some lunch before your companions suspect the worse about us."

"What's to suspect?"

Cid arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Quite a number of things. Their imaginations could run wild."

Hope did not think his friends' imagination could run any more wild than his own at the moment. He moved closer to Cid, intrigued, feeling very hot inside his own skin. He wondered if Cid was interested in him, and what he should do if he was. Should he kiss him? Touch him? What would Cid feel like? Beneath those black clothes, were Cid's muscles as hard-packed as Hope imagined? Would Cid's black hair feel as smooth as it looked? Wild thoughts of warm flesh being pressed against his, of hands exploring his own body, made Hope feel as if the room were closing in around him.

Rendered awkward by his own imagination, Hope pressed a hand to the wall and tore his gaze off Cid. He was so stupid, just a little boy after all. He had no idea what he was doing. Sex was a topic only vaguely discussed by his friends, almost a forbidden, mythical subject. Even Snow and Serah kept their sex lives a well-kept secret. Hope knew no more than he had at fourteen.

"Are you all right, Hope?" Cid moved closer, bringing the spicy scent of his cologne with him. His smile seemed close, a private expression, and he placed a hand on Hope's. Gunblade calluses had roughened his palm.

Hope jumped back, though the touch had not been unpleasant. He wondered what Lightning or Sazh or Snow or Serah or the rest of Team NORA would think if he suddenly expressed his desires, if they found out he let Cid touch him. Would they be as disgusted as most people of Cocoon had been by the notion of a sexuality that did not lead to human reproduction? He could not afford to lose his friends, especially not for something so ridiculous as a physical reaction.

"I'm fine." Hope licked his lips, his voice breaking a little. He tried to catch his breath, though he did not know when he had run short of it. "Just hungry."

Cid's smile faded, and he withdrew. "And I presume you mean just for lunch." His tone grew brusque.

"Right. What else would I be hungry for?"

"What any lonely man would be hungry for." Cid's tone grew more distant, and his gaze settled on the fal'Cie door, now quiet and inert. "But let us go find some lunch."

Breathing suddenly felt easier. Hope nodded and followed Cid back up to the dining room, keeping his gaze on the stone floor the whole way up.

...

The rest of the day, Cid seemed distant. When he did glance at Hope, his gaze never stayed long. His fingers drummed on tables, windowsills, even walls, and his march seemed as stiff and rusty as the tower's fal'Cie. He spoke as politely as ever, but a glass wall seemed to lie between him and everyone else. No one seemed to notice it but Hope.

At dinner, Lightning and Sazh agreed it would be best to leave the next morning, after another night's rest in the tower. Cid offered no arguments. He just sat at the table and ate his food without glancing up. He was already alone, even when amongst others. Sazh eventually seemed to notice this and ended his conversation with Lightning about their plans to leave. Hope kept as quiet as Cid, feeling guilty about leaving him behind again, about pulling away earlier. Perhaps if he had not, he could have convinced Cid to join them.

Feeling more tired than he had in four years, Hope returned to his room, determined to bathe and sleep. Maybe in the morning, he would not feel as if he were abandoning Cid to the worst fate imaginable.

Hope stepped into his bathroom and asked for water. As the water fal'Cie filled his tub, he pulled his clothing off. He folded and set them to the side, then paused when he heard the unmistakable sound of his door opening and closing.

"Hello?" he called, reaching for a towel to cover himself. "Anyone there?"

Though he heard nothing, he could feel another presence-warm and watching him. He spun around, clutching his towel. Cid appeared in the doorway, his pale face flushed. "Hello."

"Cid." Hope swallowed, but found his mouth dry. More than the steam made his skin heat. He clutched his towel tightly. "Why are you here?"

"How old are you?" Cid shook his head and stepped into the bathroom, apparently uninterested in answering Hope's question. "You claim to be eighteen, but you act as skittish as a teenage girl. It's charming, I'll admit, but also frustrating."

"You should leave." Hope took a step back, but Cid kept moving towards him. "Please, leave."

"Why? I can tell you're interested." Cid pushed Hope back against the wall and stared down at him. "You look at me like a starving man eyeing a plate of food-as I imagine I must look at you." He cupped Hope's cheek. Hope shivered at the touch. "You are beautiful-but are you a man or a boy?"

Hope jerked his face away. He did not appreciate being treated as if he were some weak child. "Leave. Or I'll smack you with a Blizzaga like you've never seen before."

"So frustrating." Cid braced his hands against the wall, pinning Hope between them. "Why deny me? And yourself? Is it that you don't know anything? I could teach you-"

By then, Hope had built up enough power to sling the Blizzaga at Cid. Hope's towel slid from his naked body as he cast the spell. Cid flew back into the bedroom, frost spreading over his clothing, contrasting against the black. The cold of the spell chilled the entire room. Cid recovered quickly and dodged Hope's next Blizzard spell, then dashed towards Hope with all the speed required of a gunblader. Hope backed up, ready to cast a Protection spell on himself, but he paused, realizing he wanted to be caught. Within seconds, Cid seized him around the shoulders.

Cid's expression grew more intent than any Hope had seen before, his hazel eyes alight as if by magic. Hope shuddered an internal fire lit inside him again, fueled by a strange desire to possess this man, a man so much like the woman Hope admired most. He cupped Cid's face and pulled him close, his reservations melting away. When their lips finally closed the distance and met, reality seemed to splinter.

The sensation of soft lips moving against each other and pliant tongues meeting mixed with a vague understanding of wetness and softness. The feel of Cid's callused hands sliding over Hope's body mixed with indefinable thrills arising from nowhere in particular. Cid did not feel nearly as warm as the heat inside Hope, as if the other man had lost substance as Hope touched him. Hope realized they were having sex, but could not recall when it began and when it ended. Shadowy ideas of how flesh fit against flesh mingled with clear imagery of actions Hope had not considered as possible before. The images bled together, spinning round and round, like an airship out of control.

Hope woke, tangled in his own blankets, sweat and his own seed staining his clothing. He panted and glanced around, trying to clear his muddled head, feeling as if someone had cast Fog upon him. He blinked. He distinctly recalled entering his room, taking an uneventful bath, and lying down upon his bed. After that-a dream? A dream of Cid appearing in his bath, demanding Hope's attentions?

A dream. Perhaps even a fantasy, but definitely a dream. A dream that had felt as real as his discovery of his friends all dead, only decidedly more pleasant. Hope sighed and requested fresh blankets before taking another bath. He wished he could walk in the fresh air-something he missed after four years of having plenty of it-but settled for stepping out into the hallway in a clean pair of sleeping pants and a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders. The torches burned consistently this time, without dancing down the hall.

"You shouldn't walk around barefoot. You might catch a cold."

Hope jumped, then turned to find Cid in the doorway of his bedroom. He wore black pants, but no shirt. Hope tried not to admire the muscle definition of Cid's arms and chest-it was as sinewy as he had imagined. The memory of touching that bare chest in his dream still remained fresh in his mind.

"I-I'm sorry," Hope said, not knowing what else to say. He trained his gaze on the wall next to Cid.

"You apologize far too much. I should be apologizing. I was rude earlier." Cid smiled a bit, though the expression seemed half-hearted. "I'm afraid you disappointed me, and I've never been good at rejection."

"Oh." Hope cursed himself, wishing he did not still sound as awkward as his fourteen-year-old self. "Why are you awake?"

"I had a-" Cid frowned and crossed his arms. "-a strange dream."

"Really? What about?"

Cid's gaze grew intent. "You." Then he sighed and looked away.

"Oh." Hope licked his lips. "I dreamt of you, too. What was so strange about your dream?"

Cid worked his jaw. "You'd likely rather not know."

"No. I want to know."

Cid tilted his head, dark hair sliding over his pale skin. "Since you asked, blame no one for yourself if the answer makes you uncomfortable. When I have erotic dreams, they're generally fairly explicit. But this one was half-filled with underdeveloped yearnings and vague ideas of things I know to be concrete and pleasurable. It was dizzying in its confusion."

Hope choked on his own saliva, his chest seizing in embarrassment. "I-you-had an erotic dream?"

"It's not unusual for a man who hasn't had sex in over four years." Cid arched an eyebrow. "And I'd wager not unusual for a youth your age, either."

Hope backed up against the wall behind him and studied Cid. He seemed every bit as intent as he had before lunch, almost primal. Hope might have compared him to a rutting behemoth king, but Cid had far too much discipline for that analogy to work. He held his body too rigid, and he did not chase his mates across the Archylte Steppe. The real Cid was nothing like the forceful, boorish creature in Hope's erotic dream.

"When I have erotic dreams, they're not so concrete. They're just guesses. None of it ever feels so real, except for knowing that I want it." Hope took a deep breath, surprised that he even managed to say that much.

"Surely your companions have educated you? Lightning did not make you into a man, yet?"

"No!" Hope gaped, stupefied at the thought. "She's like my big sister. Besides, she-and I-well-and-"

"Ah. You're exclusive then. Only interested in other males."

The bareness of that statement gave Hope the shakes. "Please don't tell the others. I couldn't stand it if-"

"If what? They discover you only prefer men?" Cid blinked. "If they truly care about you, they shouldn't give a damn who keeps you company in bed."

"But still." Hope tugged his blanket around himself tighter. "I don't want to risk it. They're too important, and it really doesn't matter."

"What doesn't matter? Your sex drive?" Cid sounded and looked incredulous. "It's as much a part of you as your arm or your leg. I wouldn't recommend cutting any of them off."

Hope glanced up. "Didn't you keep it a secret?"

"In Cocoon? Of course. We can thank the fal'Cie for nurturing a homophobic society in order to force people into heterosexuality-after all, shepherds encourage breeding of the sheep so they may slaughter their lambs. But just because I kept my sex life a secret does not mean I enjoyed presenting myself as something I am not."

"But you still kept it a secret."

"Yes, but I did not think I would have to any longer." Cid stepped forward and extended his hand. "You helped destroy Barthandelus and Orphan and freed humanity from fal'Cie shackles. Why do you willingly allow their fetters on your sexuality to still bind you?"

Hope stared at Cid's hand. Cid kept his nails trimmed and clean, giving his wide masculine hand a refined appearance. Hope suddenly realized how cold the stone beneath his feet really was-a dramatic contrast to how hot he felt. He peeled the blanket off his shoulders, finding its extra warmth unbearable. "What do you want from me?"

"The same thing I hope you want from me. I won't tell the others. That's something you should reveal to them, not I."

"I don't-" Hope's mouth felt dry, and he took a moment to take a deep breath, though his heart still pounded against his chest. Fear swiftly evolved into excitement. "-I mean-"

"You don't have to explain anything, Hope. We all have first times. I'd be honored if you allowed me to yours." Cid's hand remained extended.

Hope hesitated for a moment, then took it.

"You are beautiful," Cid murmured, and pulled Hope into his room.

Hope stared up at him. In only the starlight of his room, Cid's coloring appeared starker than ever. "So are you," Hope whispered.

Even though Hope could not be sure where to place his hands at first, Cid seemed remarkably patient with Hope's fumbling. He let Hope explore as he desired for a while, until he became rather insistent about returning the gesture. Cid taught him without words, his actions and movements often leaving Hope breathless and enflamed. When Cid finally took him, Hope no longer worried where to place his hands. He knew what he wanted. The pain of penetration quickly faded, leaving behind only the memory of pleasure. Cid lay against him when they were done, his breath evening out, limbs still tangled with Hope's.

Hope closed his eyes and rested against the pale man next to him, sated as a behemoth after a successful hunt. When he slept, he dreamed again-a dream of helpless dreaming, of being abandoned, bereft of freedom and purpose. He dreamt that only a clockwork lullaby offered him companionship in his dark and empty prison. It was not until Hope awoke that he realized he had dreamt the same achingly lonely vision as the night before.

...

To be continued...