A/N: So, another apology for the length of the chapter, but this time because it's kind of short :P The next one is more balanced, so hopefully things will stay fairly leveled out after this! Please, please, please review :D It reduces stress by thirty-seven percent (for me anyway!). Thanks so much to my regular reviewers – your comments have been immensely helpful!

Additionally, I included a term that took me some time to find, so I wanted to quickly annotate its definition so as to not give the wrong impression in the story. It's used for exaggeration – I am not suggesting that Light actually has the medical condition itself.

*Sociophobia: the fear of social gatherings, fear of socializing, or fear of embarrassment in social situations

Disclaimer: Square Enix owns it all. Good for them.

(revised 29SEP11)

Things That You Doubt

Lightning drank her coffee without a word, doggedly refusing to admit that she was ready to crash, or at least get away from everyone. She felt ashamed at the gnawing need for solitude after being absent for so long, but her introverted personality demanded its quota of processing time. The soldier knew things needed to wrap up before she had to take the initiative, which always came off as brusque at best.

On top of exhaustion and, perhaps, mild sociophobia, she was troubled by the range of emotions Hope had displayed throughout the day. Had he not oscillated between such extremes – cool and collected one moment, a nervous wreck the next, and then completely unconscious – she would have written it off as hormonal. Unable to put her finger on a single source, she deduced that it was a combination of fatigue, situational pressure, and some other variable.

Maybe that's where I should insert "hormones." No, too simplistic.

Just then, Serah's coffee cup hit the table, and chaos ensued. Making another cup of coffee was no issue, and everything else was being handled, so Lightning kept a keen eye on Hope's actions. Standing up after fishing around under the sink, he clumsily hit his head on the counter, and she assumed it was probably a coordination problem from rapid growth, or just more evidence of tiredness; however, he seemed overly perturbed for such a simple accident.

As he turned from the sink, rag in hand, Hope's eyes made contact with hers, and Lightning felt the force of a mix of emotions radiating from his green ones, the most prominent being embarrassment. It was like a nuclear reactor was constantly leaking through Hope's retina – the sensations were too raw. She abruptly went back to Serah's coffee, her face unexpectedly burning from exposure.

He seriously needs rest. That has to be the main problem.

A faint, nagging voice in the back of her mind suggested that something more was involved, but Lightning's reasoning couldn't ignore the empirical evidence. She was determined to finish her coffee, and then get both of them out of there before she became foul-tempered or Hope passed out again, whichever came first. Protective instincts were obstinately hard to shake.

Just when it looked like Serah was prepped for another conversation, and Lightning was set to shut it down, Hope took the opportunity to say his piece.

"Hey, Serah, thanks for everything, but I think we need to get Light set up for the night – she looks about ready to crash." Lightning glared back at all their looks of concern, nonetheless grateful for a reprieve, and continued to sip her coffee. Downing the last of his own drink, Hope took his and Snow's mugs to the sink and washed them out, setting them aside to dry.

You're one to talk, zombie-boy.

"It's just the post-awakening shut-down; we've all been there," Snow added, which actually did put Lightning's mind at ease, at least concerning herself.

"Alright, then," Lightning commented to herself. The faster I can recover, the faster I'll be combat-ready.

She made it abundantly clear that she was ready to hit the road by marching up the stairs ahead of Serah in search of bedding. Discovering that she was really just in the way, she chose to wait outside, and Serah eventually came out the door with her empty-handed fiancé and a very much loaded-down Hope – the pile of sheets and blankets in his arms left only a silver tuft of hair visible at the top. Lightning insisted on taking some of the burden, and they said their goodnights to Serah and Snow.

A short, tangibly silent walk later, they stood outside the door to Hope's quarters. He shifted his load to one arm, and then fished around in a pocket and pulled out his keys.

"I apologize in advance for the dust; we'll need to open some windows and let everything air out," he said, fumbling with the lock for several seconds before hearing it click open.

Upon entering, the only light in the place was cast by a tiny solar lamp sitting on the front windowsill. Lightning considered that it might only serve the purpose of making the house look occupied.

Hope flipped on the light-switch in the main room, illuminating the very basic furnishings within – a small couch, armchair, and coffee table arranged in the center of the room, and a bookcase on the back wall. Everything was very tidy except for a thin accumulation of dust.

"So, you sleep on the couch?" Lightning asked plainly, as Hope raised the front windows. There were no other doors or stairs to additional rooms, and she guessed that the building was either smaller than it appeared, or these quarters were completely separate from other parts of the structure, like an apartment complex.

Hope gave her a wry smile. "Not so much. Let me show you the best feature of this place." He walked over to the bookcase, reaching around the right edge to flip out a small, metal bar not four inches long. He used the handle to swing the entire shelf open like a door, revealing a flight of steps to the basement.

The large, open room below was similar in structure to the one in Serah's home, minus a kitchen. It was clearly divided into two sections, one half with a bed and nightstand, the other with a desk, chair, and standing lamp. It did not, in fact, look like anyone actually lived there – minus the same thin layer of dust, not a stray scrap of clothing or paper was to be found, and the bed was neatly made.

Lightning was a little unnerved at the eerie feeling that always accompanied entering a place that seemed deserted, and she just stared at the bedroom for a minute, standing trancelike at the base of the stairs with blankets in hand.

Turning around, Hope waved a hand in front of her face. "Hey, you okay?"

Lightning blinked rapidly, coming back to reality. "Huh? Oh yeah, fine. Just seems strange here – empty, even with the furniture."

"True. Maybe that's what weirded me out too; I never did sleep here, not even once." He paused, obviously considering something and fidgeting with his keys before going on.

"So, anything else you need?" Hope inquired, trying to be helpful.

"I can survive in the wilderness with a knife. Pretty sure I'm all set," Lightning responded, not meaning to sound cold but wanting to hurry things along before the sleep-deprived grumpiness factor increased further.

Hope looked away for a moment, hand over his mouth, clearly smothering a chuckle. When he faced her again, he broke out in unreserved laughter at Lightning's cross expression.

"Wow…you haven't changed at all!" he said candidly, when the fit had subsided.

The soldier was set on edge by his sudden brazenness, and she turned away, arms folded. "What did you expect?" she said harshly, under her breath.

"Oh come on, I wasn't trying to insult your survival skills. Let me rephrase: Anything else you want, Light?" Hope asked again, this time outright teasing her, and she felt a fleeting desire to slap the smirk off his face.

Wait, I would never hurt Hope. I need to get a grip.

Lightning sighed, frustrated with her own uncharacteristic lack of self-control. Getting riled up over harmless banter was not professional, and it was unacceptable.

"No, nothing. Really," she replied, willingly softening her tone. "I want to go to bed. Now."

"W-well, just give me a minute to fix things," Hope said unsteadily, his expression enigmatic. He rushed over to the bed and began stripping off all the old covers and sheets, tossing pillows to the side. Lightning immediately followed suit, carrying all the new bedding over to him, and they made quick work of getting everything straight.

"Should be all set," Hope concluded. "Bathroom's through that door, and there's a mini-fridge next to the desk – just a few water bottles in there, though. Sorry about the umm, lack of amenities." He sounded genuinely apologetic.

"Not a problem. If I need food, I can go to Serah's," Lightning said, trying to make him feel better. "Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way. It's quiet enough that I may actually get some sleep." She offered a smile in gratitude, and Hope smiled a little shyly in return.

"Sure hope so. Anyway, I should probably get going," he said, letting out a barely audible sigh. "See you later, then?" He took the house key and held it out for her to take.

As Lightning got hold of the key, she found herself pulled into an impromptu hug. The suddenness of it, coupled with a renewed astonishment over the obvious physical difference in Hope, completely disabled her ability to react at all. In her mind, she had held his scrawny, adolescent form against her shoulder just weeks before, if that, and now she was gently pressed against his. The memory reminded Lightning of that closeness, and as the shock subsided, she wrapped her arms around his waist, taking comfort in something not so foreign to her as the rest of their new existence.

Now I can sleep.

Hope's alarm clock was buzzing insistently in the background of his otherwise empty head. The sound morphed into a dream, once again flashing back to battles with a swarm of enemies, Lightning at his back. He let his boomerang fly with superb accuracy and heard the satisfying "thunk" of a direct headshot, the crunch of metal, the clatter of shattering glass…

Oh crap.

Hope's eyes snapped open, bloodshot and puffy, and he half-rolled off the bed and knelt down on the floor to observe the damage. He was only sorry that he hadn't caught the time before flinging the boomerang in his sleep. Kneeling over the mangled scrap of what was once a clock was the perfect way to start the day after an exhausting night of grunt-work in the hangar.

Two pieces of toast and a HAZMAT shower (commandeered for personal use) later, Hope was already dressed in coveralls and methodically ripping the guts out of the underbelly of the ship and removing all four of the lower thruster pods. It sucked royally, but he was quite sure that the reason behind the output control malfunction was in a specific type of regulator valve in the fuel line leading to the pods, and it was impossible to know where along the line it was happening and which pods were affected without pulling out everything.

Yuj and Maqui had dropped off the remains of a similar Pulsian model ship's engine, thrusters intact, sometime that morning, and Hope was thrilled to find that the components were a match to the model they had originally installed on Bartholomew. He had a promising project, and all his friends were together – everything was almost perfect.

I just wish Dad was here to see how far we've come.

End Note: Please advise on what the difference is between the K+ and T ratings, b/c I have material coming up that I'm uncertain about (and no, it's not sexual, so I don't want anyone getting all giddy!). Thanks!