A/N: Argh, I am bushed… but it IS that time, posting time. This chapter is a bit shorter than originally intended, due to some strategic decisions spawned by my wise and all-knowing roomie – please don't be too disappointed! As always, feedback is highly encouraged ^_^ I've got one little informative term first:
*Brass – an informal term for high-ranking military members (officers)
And now, to my anons:
Terra7 – Ha, you're right; privacy is a commodity they can't always afford :P Glad you enjoyed the chapter, and the Maqui/Lucil stuffs! I am crazy excited to see what art you produce over the holiday break XDDD
PosterChild – Welcome to the fic And thanks for that; I'll try not to disappoint.
LawMan - *snorts* That's a pretty greasy sandwich; bit too high in fat :P I'm gonna just assume, based on your comment, that riding a tandem bike in the rain is LOTS of fun by your standards (at least I hope that's the case)! Ehehe… I suppose I have tended to mix the two. You can be sure of a smattering of awkwardness and fluff throughout the fic, though last chapter was rather concentrated.
[Songs for Chapter 8: "Allowance" – Our Lady Peace; "Shake It Out" – Florence + the Machine; "Disaster Button" – Snow Patrol; "He Won't Go" – Adele]
Cherry Bombs (go off)
"Look alive, little rabbits!" Maqui shouted into the engine room, an aggravatingly chipper note in his proclamation. "Time to emerge from the den. Boss man says the storm's blown over."
Lightning growled to herself and sat up on the towel, rubbing a sore spot on her shoulder. "Hope, how do you live with him?"
"Maybe the same way Serah lives with Snow," Hope mumbled sleepily, one arm still curled above his head.
She stared at him for a moment, arcing an eyebrow. "I doubt that."
"Why?" Hope asked, finally forcing himself upright and stretching. "He annoys the hell outta me sometimes, but he takes care of my stuff and makes me laugh. Isn't that basically Snow's thing?"
Yes, that's Snow's main 'thing' for everyone else but Serah.
Deciding to let it be, as there was no appealing to his logic in that just-awakened state, Lightning muttered a short, "Nevermind," and got to her feet. Hope wasn't far behind, and they made quick work of gathering their mostly dry clothes and getting dressed, though Hope had to detour briefly and retrieve a new shirt. The last thing Lightning remembered was to re-fold the letter and pocket it for later. If the storm damage Hope had mentioned was as serious as it sounded, she felt certain the repairs could not be delayed.
They emerged from the transport into dusky light, an effect of the westward moving storm clouds blocking the late afternoon sun as it followed the same path toward the mountains. While they pedaled silently along, Lightning spent the ride back to Central mentally cycling through strings of words that would be most effective to say to the colonel. She had a feeling he would be there to meet them upon arrival, and it would likely be her only chance to explain herself and set things right.
And I really do have to set this right, if I ever want to join that expedition.
True to form, Miles was sitting patiently in the lobby when they rushed in from the glass walkway, not affected in the least by their disheveled appearances. He stood politely at their approach.
"I'm sorry to have called you back here like this," he said, dipping his head at them briefly. "Hope, I've got a reserve communicator for you to call the engineers, if necessary. Please call my extension first, though, once you've finished assessing the damage." Miles pulled the device from his pocket to hand it over, and Hope accepted it with a nod.
"Thank you, sir. I guess the sooner I get started, the better," he said quietly. Turning to Lightning, he tried a watery smile even as his eyes flooded with disappointment and guilt.
"I'll see you at dinner, okay?"
She smiled back despite sharing his disappointment – there was no sense in compounding his troubles, especially when it wasn't even his fault. The clock was ticking. "We'll be there. I'll tell the others what happened when they get back."
Reluctantly, Hope headed for the door, glancing back at her a final time before shutting it behind him. She kept her eyes fixed on the handle for a long, sinking moment before the colonel's voice brought her back around.
"Lightning, I'm truly sorry for the timing with this," Miles reiterated, and she immediately shifted her focus to his concerned face, bringing the body of words she'd planned to tell him to the front of her mind. It was now or never.
"Sir, if I may, I'd like to speak with you," Lightning said plainly. "It isn't about Hope – I understand that emergency situations happen, and I don't blame you for calling him in. However, I found out this morning that my own behavior was to blame for new restrictions on the enclosure, and I feel I owe you an explanation."
The colonel shook his head, raising a hand as he immediately refuted, "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I know you were telling the whole truth – something I made a point of championing in my speech before you ever said a word. I couldn't expect you to understand the fragile state of the population when you don't even live here, after all."
"That isn't an excuse, sir," she insisted. "If you would like me to speak to the leadership, I'd be happy to take responsibility for my actions and reassure them that I meant nothing against PSICOM or the Settlement. My pride isn't worth keeping my whole family shut off from Fang and Vanille, and certainly not worth making all of us look antagonistic. Hope doesn't need that."
Lightning didn't feel the least bit guilty for using Hope against the colonel, not when her point was absolutely valid, and not when it seemed to be working. Miles crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in serious consideration of her proposal. Several tense seconds later, he looked her straight in the eyes and replied, "If that's really what you'd prefer, I can make it happen. The department heads have been in and out of meetings since the storm started causing trouble, so they're still waiting around in the conference room for a status update. You're welcome to stick with me until Hope calls, and we can attend the next meeting from there."
"That would be perfect, sir," Lightning replied. "I can change into my uniform in five minutes, if you're willing to wait."
The colonel nodded, taking a seat in the lobby again as she headed for the room. When facing down a gathering of accusers, she would need all the confidence and credibility she could get – nothing delivered it better than a sharp appearance.
Waiting outside the door to the conference room to be called upon, the minutes seemed like hours. Lightning hadn't felt that level of nervous in a long time – her pulse was elevated, and she tapped the toe of her boot rapidly against the floor.
I know I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not here awaiting punishment, but I've mainly seen soldiers who were in serious trouble in this position. I guess my mind can't just dismiss that impression.
Finally, the door cracked open, and a stone-faced lieutenant gestured mutely for her to enter.
As Lightning stepped inside, the sight of that sheer amount of brass in the small room should have been intimidating – there had to be at least a dozen department heads, most of whom were accompanied by lower-ranking assistants. They were not, however, looking quite their best. By Lightning's estimation, the day of tedious meetings had dragged them all into a state of either boredom or plain fatigue. Many of the leaders sitting around the long table were aimlessly staring off, some nursed mugs of coffee, and others had both elbows propped on the wooden surface in order to support their heavy heads.
But every head, heavy or otherwise, swiveled in her direction once she closed the door behind her with a soft click. Lightning didn't even have to move from her place beside the entrance. She was already the center of attention, and they were all waiting for her.
"Commandant," she began, her head high as she shut out the many critical gazes and defaulted to the most proper greeting she knew, "and PSICOM high officials, good evening."
"Thank you for joining us, First Sergeant." The colonel was quick to set the calm, polite tone he clearly expected everyone to maintain, a comfort to Lightning in that terrible moment of scrutiny. It was a poor leader who couldn't control his subordinates, after all, and that man could control tens of thousands.
Continuing, he cut right to the chase. "Sergeant Farron has specifically requested attendance tonight to deliver a statement. I trust you will all give her your undivided attention."
There were glances exchanged across the table instantaneously – some looks of alarm, some of outrage, and others of absolute confusion. The entire array of those expressions above glowing ranks suddenly turned to bear down on Lightning like a microscope over a single ant, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her heart from plummeting to her boots.
They won't punish you, they just need to understand. You're doing this for Hope.
And if you don't do this, you'll never get the chance to help Fang and Vanille.
Eventually, one of the department heads, a mustachioed colonel with bushy eyebrows and a reddish sort of face, turned to the commandant and broke the silence. Unlike the others, he didn't seem affected in the least by her presence, and Lightning had to wonder if he knew something the others did not.
"With your permission, Sabin, I'd like to ask the Sergeant a few questions before she gets started."
"You don't always have to be the first to throw in your two cents, you know… But go ahead," Miles said easily, obviously on pretty familiar terms with that particular colleague. Lightning got the distinct impression that it wasn't just because they were of equal rank.
Sitting up straighter in his chair, his thick eyebrows furrowed into one as he asked Lightning in a gruff, demanding voice, "Sergeant Farron, with all due respect, why exactly are you standing here? What do you hope to accomplish?"
"I intend to take responsibility for my actions, sir," she said boldly, thrown as to why he bothered asking, "and to clear the names of anyone associated with me. That includes my husband. The last thing I wanted to do was come to the Settlement and stomp on his reputation right in the middle of his project."
"Well, those are honorable reasons," the colonel assented. "Was it your husband's idea for you to come in here and make a statement, then?"
Lightning did not hesitate. "No. It was mine, sir."
"I see." The colonel paused to scratch at his mustache in thought, asking casually, "While we're on the subject, what did the director think about this incident? I don't mean to question your husband, but I'd like to hear it straight from you. After all, he's the one we've gotta work with around here."
Though surprising, the question wasn't one that could unseat any of the claims in Lightning's planned statement. If anything, it could strengthen them – the truth spoke for itself. She felt a great sense of relief at exiting the realm of convenient half-truths.
"He made it very clear that he did not approve of my actions," she stated, wondering if the colonel would delve further. It was never wise to give more details than necessary unless it was requested.
But delve he did. "Elaborate, please. Just because he might've spouted obligatory hogwash about how he 'didn't approve' doesn't mean anything."
"Well it meant something to me, sir," Lightning retorted, a bit unnerved by the way the gruff man smirked below his mustache at her suddenly fiery answer. She toned it down before adding, "He told me, in practically these exact words, that I freaked out the population and could have started a riot. I did a poor job of defending myself, and he stormed off. I would call that a very strong disapproval – one that my entire family shared, believe me. I'm afraid I used a lot of wine to deal with it."
Several of the other officers snickered quietly, and Lightning had to choke back a growl at their impertinence.
"Convincing enough, Sergeant. I believe I've said my piece." Lounging back in his chair, the colonel turned to the commandant again, deferring control.
Miles nodded to Lightning and calmly directed, "The floor is yours, First Sergeant."
"Thank you for this opportunity, Sir," she managed, focusing for a brief moment on keeping her breathing in check. "After last night, I know I left you all with a bad impression of my character, which is a poor reflection on my own command and those I'm associated with. While I can't go back and undo the damage my words may have done, I do need to clarify some points. One, that those were my words only, not the words of anyone else – least of all my family."
Every eye in the room was still trained on her as she paused to clear her throat, but she couldn't allow enough time to elapse for an interjection. Barely a breath later, Lightning continued. "Secondly, that my words were purely speculation. I have no way of actually knowing if Fang and Vanille will ever return, and it was misguided for me to assume that kind of claim would encourage the people of the Settlement or give them hope."
After all, Miles, I'm just clinging to false hope, right? Considering that's what you fed everyone last night, they ought to eat this up without a second thought.
"Finally, my words were not an indication of any future plans for myself or my family to take action upon. We have every intention of honoring the non- interference agreements we signed – no means of interfering are known to exist in the first place. You have my word on it. And for my misleading conduct at last night's ceremony, you have my apologies." After she dipped her head in brief deference, the room remained pin-drop silent for a full ten seconds.
"Leaders, in light of this turn of events," Miles finally said, once her words had a fair chance to settle, "I'd like to make a very important request. And before I do, I want to be absolutely clear that Sergeant Farron knew nothing of this when she came to me about giving her statement."
Thankfully, the officers turned their attention from Lightning to lean in toward the table, allowing her to breathe normally as they waited for whatever the commandant had in store.
"Simply put, I propose a lifting of yesterday's emergency restrictions toward our guests, who clearly did not mean any harm here," he said calmly, unfazed by some of the shocked stares hitting him as he went on to explain his reasoning. "They are all leaving for Aerma Proper tomorrow morning, and this will be their last chance to pay respects to their friends in the enclosure – a courtesy denied them on the Day of Mourning."
Several objections were immediately raised, all of them a rehash of how Lightning's words had been unacceptable or how letting it go unpunished would set a bad precedent if the Council caught wind of it, but the charges were met with equal force from a number of supporters for the colonel's proposal. Their impassioned voices overlapped and interjected as they fought it out for the next fifteen minutes.
One lieutenant-colonel, a female officer that Lightning knew nothing of, even went so far as to shame the opposition. "To hell with the Council! They've got no business in our internal affairs to begin with. But is this really how we want to repay the people who saved Cocoon?" she demanded. "Why on Pulse would they do something now that might endanger us?"
And when none of the others could competently invalidate her claims, a hush settled over the leadership. Taking advantage of the gap, Colonel Sabin brought them back around to make a decision.
"Everyone, I know that we haven't had much time to consider this proposal, but since time is of the essence, I must put it to a vote. All those in favor of lifting the restrictions on the enclosure?"
A number of hands went up, though Lightning didn't get an exact count. When the colonel asked for those opposed, however, only four responded, and the motion passed. It honestly stunned her how reasonably she had been able get herself out of her own mess – and how much unexpected support she received from officers who had never even met her before, in addition to Miles.
Almost in a daze, Lightning only vaguely absorbed the signing of a revised agreement, the meeting's dismissal, and the casual greetings of the officials on their way out. The gruff colonel actually stopped and got her attention, asking very directly, "Sergeant Farron, give my best to your sister, would you? Just tell her Major Leonard said hello – she hasn't seen me in years, so all these promotions would probably just confuse her."
"Certainly, sir," she replied, bewildered by the request but sure it was kindly meant. The room was clear soon after, leaving only Miles to close up. Smiling, he gave her a small bow.
"Bravo, Sergeant. Now if you'd like, I can escort you to the enclosure. I'm sure Hope will be happy to see you." As the colonel crossed to shut off the light and lead her out, the signed and sealed document tucked neatly in a folder under his arm, a rush of gratitude over all his unwarranted assistance swept over her.
For the first time, Lightning caught a glimpse of what Hope had been showing her all along – just the smallest sample of which came through in his protective instinct for the colonel. She realised that her initial idea of Hope's motivations had been far too uninformed.
Hope didn't just want to protect everyone. That presupposed they were all stuck, pitted against something unavoidably devastating, and that either PSICOM or the GC or the Public Council was 'right' to bring about the changes they thought most desirable. But no one really knew what method was best, or what was to come. It was not a simple problem.
But it was a problem Hope intended to solve – for Fang and Vanille, the people of the Settlement, and all of PSICOM – by the least destructive means possible. He had found exactly one other person in the world who supported his same ideals, and Miles was now the person he felt most obligated to protect. He knew he couldn't accomplish anything without the colonel's influence and assistance.
Thinking seriously on the issue as she followed the commandant through winding passageways toward the enclosure, the same sense of foreboding that had hit Lightning on the flight over began to tighten around her heart again.
Hope is never coming home, is he?
Hope was greeted with a curt nod from the posted guard the instant he set foot in the enclosure, and while a slight tingle of resentment did course through him at the sight of that restrictive measure against him on his own worksite, he was far too tired and too preoccupied with his time-sensitive task to give it much thought. Instead, he painted on a smile and waved at the unfamiliar sentry in passing.
Several paces in, a shower of sparks rained down in short bursts from high up on the number five stanchion, and even from the ground he could see a dark blotch of charring on the metal framework. A quick walk over to the number two stanchion proved similar, though the damage there appeared to be in three different clusters descending from the point at which it connected to Cocoon's underside.
Not one to rely on guesswork, Hope pulled on his gloves and set to work climbing the number two stanchion to closely inspect its lowest point of damage. Its lack of sparks would be the safer bet, but he still didn't intend to stick around. After carefully weaving his way up the cross beams, he circled to the far side where the charring was most severe, peering into the stanchion's wired core. Right away, he could see that one of the amplifying nodes within had been overloaded and burst from the surge of electricity, and it was obvious that the same fate had befallen the two other nodes above it in a chain reaction.
The path of the lightning's power had been random, but it was easily analyzed – a dangerously intense strike had destroyed three nodes of the stanchion he was on, while another had clearly hit the number five stanchion with less force, and more recently. Something was still burning within the core there.
It was all Hope needed to know to make his decision. While he understood how the system worked and had the power to operate it, he had not been the one to design and install the wiring or the complex amplifying nodes. Given the facts, he could only tell that the damage was a result of power flooding in from the wrong direction, since the stanchions were meant to be activated from the ground up.
Ugh. Now I know how Sazh felt when his ship crashed. Time to call in the crew.
Immediately after his feet hit the concrete, Hope jogged to the exit and left the enclosure, pulling out his communicator to dial the colonel. One brief explanation later, he was calling the four members responsible for the two affected stanchions. When the project was originally organized, each stanchion had been assigned both a structural and an electrical engineer for oversight and repairs, and that would be all the manpower necessary to do the job. There was no need to call in the whole ten-man team.
Several minutes dragged by as one engineer after another begrudgingly accepted the order to leave their families and come to work, though the fourth had to defer to a replacement because he was clearly inebriated. So Hope called in the electrical engineer for stanchion number four, repeating the unpleasant news a fifth time. In the end, he slumped down to the floor against the wall, holding his head for a moment as he collected his thoughts.
This sucks. I can't even describe how much. It feels like I've personally ruined the holiday for four people. Well… five, counting Lightning.
Hope rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. The least he could do would be to smile, and thank the engineers, and make sure they had proper supervision.
The four-man team had been working tirelessly on the repairs for nearly an hour when Hope called them down for a break and inspection. He may not have been terribly careful about climbing the stanchions unprotected himself, but he would take no chances with the engineers and their safety harnesses. An hour never went by on that sort of work without him stopping everything to check the belts and clasps.
"Director, you realise nothing's gonna change about these old things in the space of an hour, right?" one of the engineers scoffed, snatching his inspected harness back from Hope with a laugh. "If it can hold my fat gut now, it'll still hold a couple of hours later. I'm not shovelin' cake at sixty feet."
Hope snorted and shook his head. "Just let me have my peace of mind, Sal. Hanging around up there for too long can make your hands start to slip up anyway, and that is a really long way to drop a screwdriver."
"Oh, I think we'll manage, my boy." He had only taken a couple of steps back toward the number five stanchion when he stopped suddenly, turning to Hope again with a concerned expression on his scruffy face. "Come to think of it, is it really necessary for you to stay here watchin' us grumps fiddle with wires? I seem to remember hearing your family was in town for a couple of days."
"You heard right," Hope admitted, trying to shrug it off. "But it is necessary for me to be here. If anything happens to you, it's my responsibility as your supervisor. Besides, you're all missing time with your families now, too."
"Yeah, but my wife lives with me," Sal countered quietly, and Hope felt himself shrinking inside in that way he always did when Sazh called his bluff. He didn't know what to say in response, and even if he had come up with the words, his throat seemed to have closed off at the thought of Lightning's departure in less than twelve hours. The best he could do was to stuff his hands into his pockets and nod, his eyes cast toward a water splotch on the concrete.
Strangely, the lack of reply hadn't led Sal to leave. He was rooted to the spot, and when Hope glanced up, the engineer had fixed his gaze on a point somewhere past him.
He suddenly pointed in that direction as he laughed in surprise, "Well, what d'ya know… Think it's about time for me to get back up that stanchion."
Hope whipped his head around, momentarily confused at the sight. There was the colonel, casually striding into the space with Lightning and quickly dismissing the posted guard as though it was nothing special. The two of them were already heading Hope's way, but he couldn't wait. He jogged toward them with a slowly spreading smile on his face.
"Guess I'll leave you to it!" Sal had called out after him, presumably going back to his work, but Hope was still so absorbed in his happy state of disbelief that he couldn't turn away. Something significant had to have taken place for Lightning to be escorted in so simply.
As Hope met them in the middle of the enclosure, Miles was quick to sum up the situation.
"So what do you think, Hope? No more restrictions on the enclosure?"
"Impressive," Hope said, trying to tone down his excitement as he took Lightning's hand. "Is it for good?"
"As long as I behave, I'm sure," she remarked with a guarded smirk.
Miles also added, "The rest of your family should be coming back before long, and they are welcome to pay a visit to Fang and Vanille. The leadership is no longer suspicious of foul play. Well, most of the leaders are on board, at least."
Wouldn't I love to know why. They were all up in arms about it to this point – it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since the ceremony incident. So what changed that was enough to convince them to completely remove the restrictions?
Light, what have you been up to?
Temporarily floating on his high spirits, Hope was just about to ask Lightning what she'd done to turn the tables when they were all distracted by a loud series of clanks reverberating through the worksite, as if something had fallen and ricocheted off a few metal surfaces. Hope didn't see anything amiss at first as his eyes frantically searched the area, but when he looked back to Lightning, her face suddenly contorted in disgust.
Almost instantaneously, Miles had the same reaction, and Hope finally caught on to the offending smell himself – it was a horrible cross between the stenches of sulfur and decaying flesh. Lightning quickly brought a hand to cover her nose and mouth, her sharp gaze seeking the source of the rotten odor. They both finally spotted it between the number three stanchion and the pillar – a cloud of yellowish fumes was beginning to billow over the entire enclosure from there.
"This could be dangerous – we need to leave," Lightning ordered, dragging Hope by the arm.
He resisted long enough to shout up at the engineer on the number two stanchion, "Stay up there where it's safe, Andy! You don't need to come down here until we clear this out!" The concentrated cloud of crystal particles spreading out from the pillar would be enough to form a purifying barrier between the gas and the man aloft – it was a much better option than the risk of him climbing down into the yellow gas. Eyes panning across the enclosure in a quick sweep, Hope spotted the other three engineers as they ran toward him.
Once they arrived, Lightning led the charge for the nearest exit, with Hope bringing up the rear. Just before he stepped into the passage after the others, he noticed bits of red flash through the air as several projectiles rained down on the worksite. Wherever they hit the ground, they exploded into bits of white that looked like paper confetti. That was the last thing he saw before the door sealed behind them, and it was completely unnerving.
"Hey, did any of you see that?" he asked anxiously. "The red things and the paper?"
"Insignificant right now," the colonel replied, hastily calling an extension on his communicator. "Security? Yes, this is he. We need a squad to investigate possible toxic gas in the central enclosure." There was a brief pause as the receiver apparently asked for details.
"No, it isn't coming from the ventilation. It appeared to be launched in from outside the facility, somehow. There is one engineer still inside, up on the number two stanchion, but he should be safe as long as he stays above the crystal dust. If the situation escalates, we can evacuate him from the roof."
A minute or so dragged by as everyone absorbed the situation, and the silence soon became uncomfortable; Hope could tell the engineers were working hard not to dwell on their colleague's predicament, but he didn't know what else to say. The sounds of anxiously tapping or scuffing boots reverberated in the passage until one of the men cleared his throat.
"What is this, the apocalypse?" Sal finally muttered with a nervous laugh. "Blackouts and lightning strikes, and now we've got gas bombs."
Beside Hope, Lightning rolled her eyes. "Don't any of you remember what the real apocalypse was like?"
"I remember you rode in on a white horse," Hope quipped, trying to lighten the mood, and sure enough he had the guys snickering. Even Lightning cracked a smile, shaking her head at him.
"Beats sitting in a castle."
"Aw, don't rag on Alexander," Hope complained in an aside to her. "With the way things have been lately, we could use a giant magical fortress."
Seconds later, footsteps down the metal passageway announced the arrival of the CBR squad. They filed past in their hooded suits and breathing apparatuses, acknowledged the commandant with a quick nod, and continued toward the east entrance with several measuring instruments and large suction devices.
"Well, this may take a while," Miles wearily announced. "I suggest you all use this break to get early chow, then regroup later."
Hope checked his watch, looking back up at the engineers. "We'll meet here at the south entrance in forty-five minutes. Don't be late, or it'll be even longer before we're done for the night."
"Director, you're starting to sound like little Z," Sal remarked, quickly qualifying after a pointed glare from Hope, "Don't worry – we'll get back in plenty of time. I can grab a plate for Andy, too."
"Good thinking. I'll see you all in a bit."
Hope mulled over his options as he watched the trio depart. Turning to Lightning, the two of them shared a look.
"Are you hungry?" Hope asked.
"No. You?"
"Just grimy," he said casually. "Shower?"
"Please."
From where he still stood, leaning against the wall on the other side of Hope, the colonel cleared his throat. "Forty-four minutes remaining, you two." He shook his head as he strolled past them, smiling nonetheless.
Shortly after, they headed east themselves. It was a quiet walk, broken only when Lightning suddenly asked, "He did realise we're actually taking a shower, right? After all the sweatiness and everything today, and then smelling that nasty gas, I feel pretty disgusting. Deodorant can only go so far."
Hope shrugged. "All those lovely reasons aside, Miles isn't dumb enough to tag you as the type to need more than five minutes for a standard shower. Where will the rest of our time go?"
"Who said this qualifies as standard? Thanks to you – and this is your fault in every way possible – I could use a thorough scrub-down. Besides, you've failed to account for the ten-minute walk both ways," Lightning immediately deduced, her precision and serious tone stirring up a round of chuckles from Hope. She punched him playfully in the shoulder for good measure.
"Okay, okay," he sputtered. "Scrubbing it is. Goddess knows I've had enough practice today!"
"Hope, I am not an engine, or any other piece of machinery for that matter," Lightning growled, automatically putting a bit more space between them as she reverted to a silent, stoic mode.
Could've fooled me, he thought, but he wasn't nearly enough of a glutton for punishment to say that aloud.
"I-I didn't mean it like that," he tried, chuckling again as he hooked his arm through her stiff one. "I just count myself lucky to know how to transfer one skill set right into another."
"Hmph, speak for yourself." She didn't say another word, but the way she relaxed against his hold and her slight smirk were all he needed to know they were back on the same page.
Over the years, Lightning had found that the shower was one of the only places in which she tended to lose track of time, and that was even without Hope. Unless she was using the same shower day in and day out, following exactly the same sequence of tasks, she could not tell how much time had passed.
It went without saying that showering with Hope in an unfamiliar location was entirely unpredictable, so she'd set her watch alarm for fifteen minutes from the time they set foot in the bathroom.
"But I thought your math gave us twenty-five minutes," Hope complained, stepping into the stream and leaping back out with a yelp when the scalding water hit his skin.
"Sorry," Lightning said. "I got spoiled to hot showers." She adjusted the cold water up for an acceptable balance and got in first. Still talking from behind the curtain, she explained more loudly, "And you forgot to factor in a few minutes to dry off and put on clothes, Hope. You can't just streak to the enclosure from the shower. It's no wonder you're never early."
Hope finally stepped in next to her, testing the water with the back of his hand as it glanced off her shoulders. "How do you know I'm never early?" He punctuated the question with a playful flick of the droplets back in her face.
"I haven't seen evidence to the contrary," Lightning retorted, pooling a generous amount of shampoo in her palm and working it into her hair. "And you are a creature of habit. I have to say that's mostly a good thing." She closed her eyes when the suds tried to invade, leaning her head back into the stream to rinse. Not at all surprised when Hope's lips gently brushed hers through the water, Lightning smiled against them, but as they began the winding journey down her neck and body she was suddenly on the alert. Once he moved beyond her navel ring she had to interfere.
"Hope," she warned, gripping the top of his hair in one hand and swiping the water out of her eyes with the other. "Don't."
Habitual to a fault. I don't think we've ever showered together without him pulling something like this… Though to be fair, I've never minded before.
It was impossible for her to effectively stare him down while having to constantly wipe the dripping water from her face. Hope blinked his bemused green eyes up at her, clearly not quite catching her reasoning.
"Why not?"
Lightning loosened her hold on his hair and absently combed her fingers through it, sighing in exasperation. "We don't have enough time." The words echoed an unspoken dread that neither of them wanted to address.
"I know, but… we aren't guaranteed much later," he said, his soft voice almost drowned out by the shower.
Pounding on the door to the room, loud enough to be heard even over the splattering water, stopped Lightning from responding despite the pained look on Hope's face.
"I should get that. If it's Snow, he won't have the decency to quit," she said hurriedly, leaving a disappointed Hope to finish cleaning up and throwing a towel around herself to answer the door.
Lightning cracked it open to see the Villiers family standing in the hallway, and Serah smiled and waved timidly at her. The shadows that lurked in her sister's eyes revived some of Lightning's earlier suspicions that something was off, but she knew it was a bad time to address it.
"So, we heard Hope's got himself stuck in a project," Snow scoffed, trying to be casual about it. "Thought it might be a good time to get you for dinner. Sazh and Dajh have already headed over there."
While she appreciated the concern, some part of Lightning felt guilty and frustrated that her issues had drawn the family's focus in spite of her efforts to keep them under wraps, and they were anything but subtle about it. In a strange reversal of the norm, it was Hope who had managed to show a convincing mask.
Now that she had seen through his front, however, it was impossible for Lightning to erase those desperate words from her mind – ones she hadn't been intended to hear. They pounded in her head over and over.
"Do you have any idea how much it's killing me to stay away from her like this? I can't even let myself think about tomorrow."
"…it's killing me…"
It's killing me, too.
And she knew that, just like her, his lips were effectively sealed on the subject of struggles and weakness until it was forced or weaseled out of him. "Actually," she explained, gesturing behind her, "Hope's in the shower right now. He got a short break while they do a safety sweep on the enclosure, but we're going back there in a few minutes."
Serah sighed and shook her head. "Sis, you could still come to dinner. Miles delivered the good news that we aren't banned anymore, so we wanted to drop by the enclosure right after we ate, anyway."
"What about Hope?" Lightning asked, a defensive edge creeping in on her voice.
"Well… we all know how he gets when he's focused on a project," Serah tried uneasily. "You can tell him we're going to dinner, but I doubt he'll be able to join us. I bet he'd like it if we took him a plate, though."
As strange as it was to speak against her little sister when Serah was the one trying to be realistic, Lightning couldn't let it go – she had finally caught on to the fact that Hope was hanging on by a thread, no matter how happy and positive he had feigned to be over their visit.
"No," she said firmly. "He's not exactly thrilled about being stuck with an emergency repair job. The least we can do before we all pack up and leave tomorrow is to wait on him for dinner."
"I-I'd be on board with that," Serah stammered in surprise, bending down to scoop Milo up before he toddled straight past Lightning's legs and into the room. "If it isn't going to take too long – Milo may have to eat early, but I guess the rest of us could stand to wait."
Nodding her acceptance, Lightning added, "We can't delay for long anyway, given the chow hall hours."
Snow just shrugged, a knowing grin overtaking his face. "I didn't know the dinner thing meant so much to you, Sis. I mean, we all had lunch together today, and you aren't exactly the biggest fan of 'group' time."
"This isn't about me," she muttered.
"A'right, I get it," Snow corrected, raising his hands penitently before he turned and started down the corridor. "We'll pass it on to Sazh and Dajh. Maybe they aren't in line yet."
Serah smiled back at her, adjusting Milo in her arms as she followed Snow. "See you there, Sis."
"Oh – one more thing, Serah," Lightning called after her, remembering her promise to pass on the message from the meeting. "I ran into a PSICOM officer earlier, a former Major Leonard, who wanted me to tell you hello for him – had bushy eyebrows, a mustache, sort of a reddish face. He said you'd know who he was by the rank of Major, even though he's a colonel now."
As Serah froze in her tracks, the smile that graced her lips was almost regretful. "Yeah, I met him years ago. He used to be Miles' immediate superior." Shaking her head as if to clear her mind of the memory, she turned to follow Snow once again and said dismissively, "If you see him, tell him I hope he's doing well."
Lightning just nodded, the wheels in her head grinding against each other as she processed the new information.
Hmph, he's made Colonel. I'd say that's doing well. Interesting that he'd let his subordinate pass him up for commandant, but I can't say it was a bad call.
Even after they were out of sight, Lightning leaned heavily against the doorframe for a minute as scene after scene from the strange day rolled through her mind. She couldn't understand why she suddenly felt so drained – though the possibility of heavy emotional burdens coupled with the tiniest vestiges of hangover recovery seemed logical. At one point, Lightning entertained the notion of indefinitely delaying departure from the spot, fearing that once she took a step, time would lurch back into motion, gaining speed until it rushed her through the hours. She could already picture herself sitting there in her office, going over the backed up paperwork – she would stare out the dingy window tomorrow and think back to this moment in the doorway, when she was dreading being alone again.
But no amount of dread or delay could do anything, in the end. Her piercing alarm buzzed from the bathroom, the sound of the shower cut off, and Hope burst into the room – still dripping – to fling her watch far from his body like it might explode. The moment of contemplation was effectively broken.
"How can you stand waking up to that-that thing every day?" Hope exclaimed, torn between wanting to cover his ears and needing to dry off. The way he compromised to hop around with one hand covering his right ear and the other trying to use the towel wrenched an unexpected laugh from her throat.
Crossing to the bed, Lightning picked up her watch and shut off the alarm. "It's effective, isn't it? Pleasant sounds don't make you want to wake up."
Maker, I wish I hadn't been right.
The very second Hope stepped into the cleared but foul-smelling enclosure with Lightning and the engineers, it was apparent to him what they were in for. The bits of white he'd seen explode into the air like confetti did turn out to be paper, and upon closer inspection of the scattered pieces covering the ground, he noticed bits of black printed on them.
Hope scooped up a handful of the papers, reading their tiny messages one by one. The bold, capital letters on each piece spelled out the same chilling question:
DO YOU LIKE THE SMELL OF FEAR?
Unfortunately, Lightning had also caught on to the white confetti's significance before he had a chance to run interference. She stood absolutely still just a few meters away, her eyes fixed on the single slip of paper between her fingers.
"I did this." Her voice was quiet and hardened with finality. Hope knew there was nothing he could say or do to counter her, not when the core of what she meant was true, but he had to try and soften the blow.
He walked calmly to her side, crushing the wad of papers he held in his fist and letting them fall to their feet. "It was just a childish prank – who uses stink bombs anymore?" he said with an air of annoyance, dusting his hands as though he was rid of the attack's effect with that little effort. "Besides Maqui, I mean."
"Hope, this isn't a joke," Lightning growled, the force of her words causing him to take a step back. She curled her hands into fists at her sides, refusing to look him in the eye. "Maybe this time it was harmless, but mark my words – once protests start using weapons of any kind, they have a tendency to escalate. Next time, it could be a real bomb."
We're facing an awful lot of maybes as it stands – guess I'll add possible bombs to the list. I'm well aware this isn't a joke, but it still doesn't change anything.
Hope steeled himself to continue. "Then we'll have to tread lightly, take extra precautions," he said, sure she understood that this was simply a situation that had to be dealt with, no matter how unpleasant or even dangerous it seemed. "We've never been under the impression that this project was risk-free. We just know the risk is worth the reward, when it's all said and done."
She looked at him then, and for a fraction of a heartbeat he saw the concern behind Lightning's eyes that whispered, I'm still not okay with this.
After a heavy breath, Lightning brought a hand to her forehead. "We should go get dinner. I told Serah and Snow to wait for us, and I don't want to hold them up too long."
"Sure," Hope quietly agreed, feeling powerless against all the worries he could practically see piling onto Lightning's shoulders the more he exposed her to his new world. It had never been part of the plan, but he honestly couldn't think of a way around being straightforward with her anymore. And now, it was too late to take any of it back.
Resting a hand on her arm, he offered reassuringly, "They'll have all of this cleaned up by the time we get back. It's better if the others can focus on Fang and Vanille without thinking about protesters and their shenanigans, right?" She gave a short nod, and with that, Hope wandered over to where the engineers were preparing to go back to work on the stanchions, explaining his brief departure and checking their equipment once more for good measure. He returned to Lightning and led the way out with no further discussion, only sparing a single glance behind at the remaining security squad sweeping the confetti-littered worksite that would haunt his memories for weeks to come.
The calculated mockery of it was slowly sinking into his bones – the bright red projectiles and exploding white paper reminiscent of the parade and fireworks display that celebrated a successful future, all spoiled with the stench of 'fear.' Had it been the usual Public Council attack aimed primarily at PSICOM or even himself, he could have brushed it off in due time, but this was far from typical. Lightning was clearly their target. That fact alone was enough to stir up a vengeful anger in Hope's chest that he hadn't felt in years.
We won't be the only ones treading lightly if they dare threaten her again.
Endnote: Beta didn't go quite as wild as with last chapter, but she still had some good fun, so please enjoy!
Right after Hope tries to explain how he lives with Maqui: "Man, you're just deliberately teasing the Hope/Maqui stuff now, aren't you? :P"
At Light's thought about Snow's main 'thing': "I really want to make a penis joke right here, but it's just too easy."
As Light enters the meeting: "ugh. It's like every military meeting ever when officers are present. Anxiety x1 million ughhh"
After the description of the colonel with the mustache: [crazy mini-comic of officer with mustache and flame-like hair] "you didn't describe his hair, so I can only assume it's similar to other Japanese anime/video game military hairstyles (read: super effed up and out of regs)"
When Light speculates that Hope is never coming home: "ohhh sad :-( That's a harsh realisation to have."
After Sal explains that he isn't shoveling cake: "omg yes. Can Sal be a main character? I want a side story entirely about the daily life of Sal the Engineer. :P"
When Hope then warns that it's a long way to drop a screwdriver: "…right through someone's skull. GOOD CALL HOPE."
At the point where Hope asks Light if it's for good, and she says as long as she behaves: "You hear that, Hope? NO PUBLIC SEX WITH LIGHT IN THE ENCLOSURE. I can't believe I have to say this, but obviously you don't understand these things :P"
After Hope asks if anyone saw the red capsules and paper, and Miles just says that's insignificant: "I'm gonna go with … nope, probably not :-)"
When Hope jokes about Light riding in on a white horse during the 'real' apocalypse: "hahaha lol which one of the horsemen was she? Wait—war, she was definitely war."
When Light explains to Hope that he can't just streak to the enclosure: "though that WOULD be a hilarious dare :P"
After Light states that she hasn't seen evidence to the contrary [that Hope is ever early]: "haha I don't even care, I'm interpreting this as a sex joke :P"
When Light says that pleasant sounds don't make people want to wake up: "lies. On the contrary, unpleasant sounds make me want to stab people :P"
At the question printed on the papers: "OMINOUS…"
When Light feels sure this is an indication that they might use a real bomb the next time: "True things are true. That stuff's TERRIFYING."
As Hope reads the look in her eyes as saying she isn't okay with the situation: "I know you don't mean it like this, but in my mind, I'm like, 'Hey cool, they've developed telepathy! Super hero story!'"
