Summary: Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.

Warnings: Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language; WAFF, etc.

Author's Note: I don't know what it is, but I seem to have this fetish for making Lightning hurt, injured or dying; I feel like I should be worried about this, but oh well—that being said, the quote in #064 is from Final Fantasy: Spirits Within. Also, there is a brief switch in perspective, from third to first, but it's just how it came out, don't worry.

Firefly

#061 — Soft

It was kind of amazing to watch the seamless shift between the fearless, stoic leader and the mindful, kind woman that appeared when Lightning pushed aside her usual walls; it could also leave one with an acute feeling of whiplash, but that was another story entirely. More than once Fang had caught herself watching the soldier fret over her little sister and Hope, who had become a sort of younger brother to the Farron sisters.

Most people wouldn't think Lightning Farron capable of patience, of kindness. Those people didn't know her, the true person Lightning was, who Lightning had been.

#062 — Unique

Lightning had the brighter hair of the two; where Serah's was sort of a light silvery pink, the elder Farron's was a shade all of its own. Put the two sisters together and they were undeniably related—Fang knew no one else with that shade of hair, anyway—but they were remarkably different. Lightning was calm, collected, the responsible one. Lightning was the provider, protector. Serah was innocent, blind to the cruel ways of the world, sheltered.

Sure, some may think that the measures Lightning went to in protecting her sister were extreme, but that was just how Lightning was.

#063 — Hero

Everyone in their team fought for something; their family, their futures. Lightning had nothing, no motivation but her own; she could no longer claim Serah as hers, because truly, she was Snow's, no matter what Lightning thought. Still, though Lightning may have nothing to return to when it was all over, that was okay with her—as long as they were all safe, alive.

Being a hero wasn't about being selfish and doing things for yourself, but being selfless and doing things for the sake of others. Snow still had a long way to go before he learned that lesson.

#064 — Movie Quote

"No!"

Fang gathered the bleeding, motionless soldier in her arms; twined her hand with a weak one, just as its bloodied twin curled in her hair. Despite her injuries, that her death was on the horizon, Lightning looked truly comfortable, for once in her life, finally at peace with herself. The warmth was fading.

Fang felt tears slither down her cheeks. "Don't die on me, Light. Please."

Lightning shook her head, smiling sadly. "You've always told me death isn't the end. Don't back out on me, now that I believe. " Lightning pressed her lips to Fang's. "I love you."

#065 — Survival

Lightning sheathed her gunblade, victorious. Barely able to move, let alone fight, the Gorgonopsid writhed across the grass, streaking the ground in a trail of red. It had fought valiantly but, as Fang had told her, survival of the fittest. Lightning had beaten it with minimal effort.

"What a mess."

Taking pity on the poor creature, Lightning used a well-placed Ruinga spell to finish the struggling wolf off. Not even so much as howling, the Gorgonopsid dropped back, jaw gaping, eyes wide open. The rest of its pack lay around it.

She turned to Snow. "You can carry it back."

#066 — Fixation

Fang's staring at me, again. Lightning's eyes flickered minutely to the right, taking in the Pulsian's blatantly staring emerald gaze from the corner of her eye. Lightning wasn't entirely blind, she had the trained sight of a soldier—Lightning knew Fang had been watching her, and for quite some time, too.

After a while, it did get on one's nerves. Lightning did get tired of never having more than a few moments to herself, especially considering Fang seemed to be everywhere of late. Lightning was really getting sick of it.

Sighing, Lightning turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

#067 — Searching

I've spent my life since I was fifteen being broken down, my personality stripped, and built back up again. I've spent years learning to feel less, to numb myself from the horrors and stresses of my job—perhaps I took it too far, eliminated one too many emotions in trying to provide. All I know is that I lost something, everything, along the way, and I want it, all of it, back, whatever it is.

As I look into Fang's earnest eyes, I can't help but feel a tinge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she'll give it back to me.

#068 — Unusual Experience

Fang admired the taste of Cocoon's alcohol, that was one thing they could hold above Gran Pulse. People here knew how to make the best drinks—though, in saying that, she didn't think everyone knew how…yet Light did.

With her tongue, Fang absently swept the last remnants her drink from her lips. "Mm, that was good. You been holdin' out on me, Sunshine?"

"When I was sixteen," Lightning took a delicate sip of her own drink, hiding the subtle smile. "I worked as a bartender for a few months, just passing the time until I could join the Guardian Corps."

#069 — Likeable

Lightning made an earnest effort to like Snow, she really did. The trouble was, he was so good at annoying people, she really couldn't bring herself to spend long in his presence, Serah's wishes be damned. Lightning would never be sure how he did it, but Snow knew just the right buttons to push, the right barbs to fling, to get her up out of her seat, gunblade in hand.

Honestly, it was like he had a death wish. Lightning wasn't sure if it was pure stupidity, cunning or cluelessness that made Snow act the way he did. Stupid blond.

#070 — Bubbling

She isn't sure how it starts, what Fang said to produce such a weird reaction in her, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that it's happening, something so alien to her, something that has not happened to her since…well, she couldn't remember.

Lightning feels something bubbling inside her, rising through her body like a wave, unrestrained and unbroken. She is powerless to stop it. Before Fang even registers what's happening, laughter peels from Lightning's lips—deep, sultry and utterly entrancing.

Fang stared at her, smiling broader than ever. "You okay, Twinkie?"

"F-Fine," Lightning tried, shoulders shaking still.

#071 — Trust

Lightning knows who Fang is, even without asking, something inside her recognizes the exotic woman, swathed in even stranger clothing. Without a doubt, she knows this woman, despite the fact that they've never met, that they weren't even born in the same century. Something about the instant sense of familiarity is concerning, because the voice of reason whispers in the back of her head that, she can't know her. Lightning doesn't know how, but she knows this woman—something tells her in the back of her mind, something elusive, like an itch she can't scratch, that she can trust her.

#072 — Hit

It came out of nowhere, hitting her like the waves at high tide. Something inside Lightning snapped. All of the events of the past few hours hit her at once; the loss of her sister, Serah's later crystallization, being branded, taking down Anima, Lake Bresha, Palumpolum, The Ark. Everything. In an abrupt torrent of emotion, Lightning shoved her way out of the campsite, shouldering her way past a confused Hope.

"Light?" he called after her retreating back. "Where are you going?"

Lightning didn't turn, she hid her wet eyes in the night's darkness.

"I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

#073 — Tolerance

Lightning had dreaded going to the bar that afternoon to inquire about how much Fang's tab was; the Pulsian had Behemoth tolerance. It could take a lot to put her down. Considering Fang had been a babbling, drunken mess last night, well. At least Lebreau was the one duty.

Lightning sighed "So, what's the damage?"

Lebreau flipped through a few papers tucked into the side of the register. "Hm, Yun…Yun. Ah, here we go, Fang. Looks like you owe me three hundred Gil for last night, Light."

"That's not too bad."

Lebreau stared at her. "It was 10-Gil beer night."

#074 — Selfish

Lightning never considered herself a hero.

Her whole life, Lightning allowed herself to follow the flow of destiny, where ever it may have taken her. From the death of her parents to the loss of her childhood, from her sister's engagement to the day of her branding, from Cocoon's crash down and the loss of Fang and Vanille—Lightning did what the moment called for, cared only for those she considered family. Her motivations were beyond selfish in her own eyes.

Heroes weren't supposed to be like her. Heroes protect and save because they enjoy doing so, because they care.

#75 — Fake

"I made these last night, so they're not perfect. Try not to attract attention to yourself," Lightning glared pointedly at Snow. "If they're not suspicious, they won't look too hard at them. Get caught, you're dead."

Lightning tossed everyone fake IDs, her own tucked firmly in her wallet. Maker help them. How were they going to pull this off? Raiding a Sanctum laboratory was not something one did everyday.

"Light, you know how to make these?" Snow questioned incredulously.

Briskly, Lightning nodded. "I got into some stuff in my teens, learned a few things I shouldn't have. End of story."

#76 — Starting Again

It had been hard to adjust to Gran Pulse, at first.

For a time, those that survived the fall turned their backs on the reality. It wasn't until the deaths began that everyone realized just how sheltered they were; protected by the fal'Cie from the likes of droughts, famine and disease. Like newborns they were, lost and helpless. Humanity, or what was left of it, had been spread out. Some landed at the base of the crystal spire anchoring Cocoon, others were not so fortunate; landing in the Faultwarrens, the Steppe, Mah'habara. So many people died those first few months.

#077 — Hair

Unlike Serah, Lightning had been born with hair the color of fresh snow, complementing her beautiful blue eyes perfectly. However, a genetic quirk in her father's genes had lead to her current—or, looking at it now, previous—hair color, the exotic pink both the Farron's shared. By the time she was six, Lightning's hair was completely pink. Now, though, a white mass lay against her palm, dyed in her sleep.

Damn it, Fang.

"I think it's nice," Serah laughed. "I don't remember you with white hair, it suits you."

Lightning fumed. "It's not nice, Serah! I liked my hair."

#078 — Crossover

Blazefire glanced off the thick blade, deflecting the deadly blow in an array of sparks. It took a series of careful flips, but Lightning pushed herself out of the man's range just in time to avoid a second. Skidding to a halt some distance away, blue eyes narrowed.

He came out of nowhere and he had come out swinging. For all she was fast, the strength behind this man's blows were enough to make her bones shudder with each block.

"Who are you?"

His thick sword tilted across his chest, his eyes thinned also. "I could ask the same question."

#079 — Cape

Fang had pondered over it more than once, sure, she'd even dared to ask Lightning about it once, but the soldier had not been very forthcoming. The crimson, silken material flapped out behind the soldier in the wind, reminiscent of the make-believe superheroes all the boys in her village had idolized. It certainly wasn't standard issue, that much she knew.

It was curious, though, to see such an unusual addition to the stoic, callous young woman; it added a touch of femininity, of softness where all else was veiled. Fang wouldn't, couldn't know it had been her mother's favorite scarf.

#080 — Taking Control

Lightning was no damsel in distress, but then again, Fang was no knight in shining armor either; the two of them simply and inexplicably, were. It would always be a point of debate between their friends over what drew them together, but none of them would ever dream of the real reason why.

Fang was a dominant person by nature, she took what she wanted without thought to consequence; Lightning was the opposite—careful, controlled, everything Fang wasn't. Lightning yearned for someone to take away that reluctant control, to offer her stability, comfort. Against all odds, Fang gave her that.