Update! Whoo!

Crystal: Yeah, I'm so quick to get back to serious. Argh, it's a curse sometimes! But I'm glad you're liking the plot! And I know how you feel, those two are just too cute when they're like that! And thank you! *hugs* I'm feeling way better!

So here we are with Chapter 14! Should I mention that I wound up adding more chapters than I thought. Seriously, the length of this story keeps getting longer. But anyway, I want to thank my readers and especially my reviewers! You guys always get me so pumped and excited for this story! Hearing what you love, seeing how many people are reading it, helping me improve! Makes me want to work harder!

I promise more chapters will be coming, even if they seem slow. You see, I have school fast approaching (the 17th) so I have been writing like crazy to prepare for time I will no longer have. Trust me, my schedule will be hectic, but the more I get done the better. I won't tell you how many chapters I have finished, but don't worry, I'm making good time.

Sorry for the long note! Thank you again so much, you guys are awesome! I dedicate this chapter, and the others to come, to my lovely readers and reviewers. You guys make this a lot more fun!

"I can't believe we got stuck with night patrol. At the north sector. For the next three weeks!" Samuel gritted his teeth as he ran the situation through his mind again, watching the dark and ominous shadows of Pulse for any sign of movement. His anger pulsed inside him as he thought of that kid. And then there was Lightning, the one who couldn't keep her mouth shut! When Farron had said she would report him, he had figured she had said it just to diffuse the situation. That was, until he and the others had been called down to receive their punishment for instigating a confrontation and, as Crawford had put it, "threatening a fellow officer". And Estheim hadn't even been given a warning! He had gotten off scot-free!

"Damn l'Cie. And Farron goes and defends him. I don't get it." Samuel spat, anger boiling again.

"Oh, quit complaining Sam. You knew it was coming the moment you started that shit with the l'Cie. It could have been a lot worse than night patrols and you know it. Especially if you had gotten that gun out. I'm surprised that's all Crawford gave us." Fredrick said, relaxing the grip he had on his gun and turning to him. The fires touched on both their faces and Fredrick smirked at the look on Sam's face.

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he was right. "That doesn't stop Greg from being a whiny bitch about it."

"You're surprised?" Fredrick shook his head before looking off into the dark distance. The figures and shapes looked indistinguishable from each other; rocks could easily be monsters, supposed monsters could easily be rocks. And the tiny flame they had started did little to illuminate the area around them. It was their fifth night on patrol, and Greg had decided to scout ahead to see if they could find a decent vantage point. Well, forced after he wouldn't shut up about the cold, but he had accepted readily enough. So far there had been no word from him, but neither of them were surprised. The man was known to take his time when he was pissed.

And three weeks of night patrol could definitely piss someone off.

But when a little more than a half hour had passed by, they knew that something was wrong. They packed their gear, being extra careful with the sound they made and neither saying a word, and began the trek through the uncertain darkness in search of their friend. Fredrick held up the small torch, debating its worth in the darkness and the enemies it could attract, but a nudge from Sam made the decision for him.

"We need it if we want to find him." he whispered before pushing Fredrick ahead. The man nodded and walked on, holding the light up to see farther into the darkness and wishing he could defend himself. All they saw was grass, stones, and the occasional lake. They tried their best to predict Greg's path, catching one of his footsteps every now and again in the ground, but it was hard to track in the darkness.

"We need to take a break." Sam mumbled, taking the torch from Fredrick and holding it out, "We'll held for that rock formation. We can try to send a flare, and with any luck, he'll see it."

"Him and any monster in the area."

"Do you have any other suggestions?"

"We could wait until morning..."

"Greg won't survive a night on Gran Pulse and you know it. All he took was his gun and what eh was carrying. Not enough to make it through." Sam shook his head as they reached the rocks, "I don't know where he could have gone. It was just to scout. He wouldn't have gone far. He shouldn't have."

Fredrick shrugged and laid their supplies against the rock, rubbing his face and trying to stay calm. "We should call in then. Let the others know what's happened. They might be able to help us."

"Fine. Give me the thing and pass me some flares. I'm getting on this thing so I can shoot these off. With any luck he'll see them." Fredrick nodded and pulled out the radio along with several flares. Sam stabbed the torch into the ground and took them, shoving the flares in a bag before giving Fredrick a mock salute. He started to climb the mountain of a rock, cursing and swearing along the way. As he finally pulled himself up onto the top, he laid out the radio and started to fiddle with the dials, knowing from memory what dial did what. But all he received was static no matter where he turned the thing...

"Dammit, are we too far?" Sam said, shaking the radio. He cursed again and set the thing aside, pulling out one of the flares and a match to set it off. But as he pulled out a match, striking it against the rock, there was a loud and terrifying scream from below. Sam jumped, the lit match falling and snuffing itself out, and Sam scrambled to look over the edge.

"I think you're right..." there was a sharp tug on his ankle and he was pulled back, his armor scratching loudly on the rock. He twisted himself around and glared at his captor, kicking at them and reaching for his knife. There was a low roar below them and Sam froze, throat going dry. He glanced down, trying to see some sign of what was going on below, but the person came closer, still shrouded in darkness. There was the crackle of flame and the top of the rock was cast into an orange glow.

"What the he-"

He was cut off by another scream from below, loud and shrill, and he felt himself shiver despite himself. His breathing became quick but he made sure not to show his fear, kicking himself away again and pushing himself to his feet. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at his captor, snarling. "What the hell did you do?" He scanned the woman as he questioned her, looking for any weak points and trying to discover who she was.

She looked at him with bright red eyes, her hair long and neatly tied in a braid. She wore strange fur clothes, white and bulky, and her hands were on her hips. She gave him a small smile and held up her hand, waving the fire on her fingertips to show him where the light came from. Seeing that woman there made a chill settle in Sam's guts, his legs wobbling slightly. He steeled himself and stepped forward, growling at her.

"I asked you a question!"

"And I didn't answer. I'm glad that's been established." Her expression did not change, the smile still in place. She walked past him, toward the edge of the rock, and Samuel held up his gun. He had his suspicions, and for one moment, he thought he could end this woman and the problems she had created. He'd show Estheim that he was more than that annoying l'Cie had given him credit for.

With these thoughts in mind, he fired.

The woman looked over at the sound of the shot, the firing of the gun deafening in the silent night of Gran Pulse. For one moment, Samuel thought he had done it, and wished that his radio was working. Then he could report that it was over, that Fredrick was in trouble, and that Greg was missing. He'd get to home and-

"Is that all?"

Sam's eyes widened and before he knew it, he was being pushed off the rock, landing hard on the ground below. There was a crack, pain shooting through his arm, and he howled at the burning sensation. He glanced at his arm, finding it bent at an angle, and seeing it only seemed to amplify the pain. It ripped through him and he gave out a low moan, trying to blink away the tears of pain. The pain continued to flare and he looked around, desperate to find a way out.

"F-Fredrick...?" He almost had to look away. A C'ieth loomed over Fredrick, the man still alive and blinking slowly at Sam, but he was smeared in blood. His gun lay just out of his reach, the arm that had been reaching for it crushed. It was mangled, that much Sam could tell in the near darkness, and seemed about to fall off, the skin around it ripped to shreds. Fredrick opened his mouth, blood spewing out as the man attempted in vain to talk.

Sam felt himself quivering as he stared at his fallen friend and frantically shook his head, wondering what else had happened to him. His throat closed up at the thought, but he forced his words out of his mouth, "Don't talk you idiot. You need to shut up and rest. I'll think of a way out of this. Just wait." But Sam, as hardheaded as he was, had no real hope of getting out of this. There was no way in hell he could take on the C'ieth and that woman.

The woman...

Saorise...that's all she could be.

The C'ieth turned to him as his words trailed away and the fear bubbled inside his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up, the way his stomach was pressing against itself, and he tried to push himself up on his good arm. The C'ieth rose it's own arm up and struck him, and suddenly he felt the air breezing his sides. He shivered, blinking and trying to register his surroundings, his eyes wide and heart pounding its way from his chest.

He was on the ground again, and there was still a weird breeze by his side. That much he could tell. He tried to lift his arm and see how much damage the C'ieth had done, but nothing came. There was no response...only a warm feeling slithering and sliding down his side.

The sensation...the weird breeze... He could feel it on his upper arm, the strange feeling of air. It didn't feel heavy...in fact, it felt lighter than he had ever remembered. Dread...dread and fear filled him, suffocated him, and he felt light headed and woozy. He gasped for breath as the possibilities flowed in his mind, so many that he thought he'd been struck dumb from the amount. He was tempted to look toward his side, especially once he felt something warm seeping down to his legs now. He wanted to look...so badly...but if he did! Maker if he did he'd know, he'd see it! And he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He didn't want to know why he was feeling a breeze where his arm was supposed to be.

He blinked, looking back at Fredrick, or at least trying to see his friend. But the moment he tried to turn his head, he felt the world turn and shift around him. It was a blur of colors, mixing and meshing and making his head feel light. When would it stop spinning? When would the world stop spinning. He needed to...

What did he need to do? Why couldn't remember...all he felt was light headed...

"Well that was hardly worth it." Whose voice was that? The woman...Saorise? What? Her? Why? The thoughts slipped in and out of his head as quickly as they came, making no sense to him.

"Oh well...excuse...letter! He'll like...think?" What was she saying? It didn't make sense.

Why?

Sam blinked again, eyes feeling heavy. Why were they still open? He had no reason for them to be. He was tired after all. Tired. And it wasn't like he could see much. Everything was a haze of white, shadows moving around...

He closed his eyes. It was...much better.

"Pile em up." He felt something on his side, but he didn't bother opening his eyes. He didn't want to. He just wanted the pain to stop and the world to go back to normal. He wanted to sleep...maybe then his head would stop feeling so weird. But the ground was warm...it only reminded him of how tired he was.

Where was his wife? He was...going to sleep wasn't he? Why wasn't she in bed with him yet? He was so confused. Was he in bed? It was warm like it...

"Oh? This one...I can..." There was laughter. The Estheim kid flashed through his mind, his words loud and hurting his head. That didn't make sense, why think of that? And then something about him being an obstacle...about being an insect. But it was broken. Nothing made much sense...and that humming. The humming...where was it coming from? It sounded so...hypnotic. So soothing...so comfortingly familiar...

And he was tired.

Why was he here again? And why wasn't his wife in bed yet? He was going to go to sleep before she made it...

The humming turned into singing, but it sounded faded and distant. Was it her, was his wife finally coming? The words were unintelligible, but Samuel took comfort in them. He thought he heard a faint, whistling sound. There was a small pain, so small in the scheme of things, because he swore he heard his wife whisper, "Good night." He had made it, he could rest now...

He tried to smile, but the nothingness claimed him.

Maqui was once again fearing for his life. Nowadays, it seemed to be an everyday occurrence. He would have this horrible timing and wind up right in the middle of something terrible, wicked, and seemingly unavoidable. And right then and there, his ill fortune had cursed him yet again.

Just what had he done to deserve this?

Poor Maqui had decided he needed a pick-me-up, something to help perk him up while he was training and getting to know the others. Perhaps he would have volunteered for an expedition of Gran Pulse since there was so little activity. Really, there had been so few of the soldiers around lately. They all seemed to want to get out and do something. Not that he could blame them. But he needed to be here, at least three complete teams were needed at all times. But he still needed a pick-me-up.

So Maqui had done what any sensible adult would do and headed for the nearest coffee machine. He proceeded to pour himself some of the sweetly bitter nectar, adding just enough sugar mind you, and placed the now empty pot back into its rightful place. Of course he had wanted to start a new batch, but when he had looked for the coffee, there was none left. So he had shrugged, made a mental note to inform someone later, and proceeded to finish his cup of perky coffee goodness.

But no, life couldn't be that simple for him. Not now, not ever.

There was shouting coming from the hallway, then someone whimpering, then more shouting. Maqui almost inched closer to try and hear what was being said, but then there was a loud cry and he began to back away. Who wanted to be caught in the crossfire after all? But the sounds were getting louder...closer...his heart was beating wildly in his chest and he had the sudden urge to fight or flight. So far, flight was winning.

The door to the lounge room slammed open and Maqui held back a whimper of his own. There was Lightning, scary, scary Lightning, glaring at him as if she wanted to rip him asunder. And that didn't make sense, because honestly, Maqui had done nothing wrong. He knew that! So why did it feel as if he was staring death in the eye?

"H-Hey Lightning." he squeaked. He cringed when he heard how his voice sounded. He had to pull it together!

"Maqui." She walked inside, scanning the room with cold and uncaring eyes, and Maqui felt the sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes zeroed in on the coffee machine and the hairs on the back of Maqui's neck stood up. "Where is the coffee?" His throat went dry and he pressed himself against the wall, wishing it would swallow him whole and save him from impending doom. She continued, uncaring of his discomfort, "I heard from Hartz that this was the only lounge with coffee, at least until we restocked. And I missed my usual cup at home because of a certain someone who couldn't keep her hands off of it. But I figured I'd have some once we got here." Maqui felt himself trembling as he cursed Lebreau for taking the last cup of coffee. He was going to die. He was really going to die. She had, after all, obviously scarred Hartz for life for that bit of information. Who knew what she would do to him!

Maker he was going to die.

Lightning paused, narrowing her eyes, "So Maqui, where is the coffee?"

And Maqui felt it descending, the great force of Armageddon suffocating as it crushed his very soul into nothing more than a tiny ball. He glanced down at his cup, feeling the chains that spoke of his doom wrap around his arms. His heart hammered in his chest, desperate for a few last beats before the harbinger of the end struck him down. He did the only thing he could think of, and told Lightning the truth.

"I-I just drank the last cup..."

Oh, what a fool he was!

He tried to press closer to the wall, cursing softly when he realized he was as close to it as he could be. And all his desperate begging to be able to slip through the wall went unheard as Lightning stepped closer.

"Did you now?" How could someone make a question like that sound so...so horrible? This Lightning...this Lightning he had never had the misfortune of experiencing. Oh yes, he had heard tales. But he had scoffed! Scoffed and said that he'd tread carefully; that he'd make sure never to land himself in such a situation. How terribly wrong he was.

"Well, as long as there's enough to make another pot, I suppose it shouldn't matter." And then the world was well for a brief few seconds. Maqui let his false relief wash over him, realizing only as the cupboards were opened that there was no coffee left. None at all. And the deafening silence that followed his, and apparently Lightning's realization, finally forced Maqui back into motion. He did what any sane man would do and ran. Ran as far and fast as his legs could carry him, not wanting to be caught up in the storm that was sure to come.

Before he noticed it himself, his feet had carried him to one of the training rooms, the usually thuds and grunts coming from within. He darted inside, feeling relieved when the doors slid shut behind him, and turned to see Hope and Snow going at it. He smiled, watching as Snow aimed a left hook at Hope, but the smaller one ducked before it could land. Snow had more force, but Hope was admittedly quicker. Hope tried to hook his foot around Snow's ankle to bring him down, but Snow realized his plan and grabbed his leg, yanking Hope toward him. Hope let out a curse and twisted his leg, ignoring the small stab of pain as he forced his leg free.

Hope stumbled back, raising his arms in front of him as Snow moved in to charge, but there was a loud crash outside the room. They both stopped and looked toward the door, only more confused as Maqui inched away from it, a look of absolute horror on his face.

"Oh no..."

"Maqui, what are you doing?" Hope asked, walking up to the man and putting a hand on his shoulder. Maqui jumped, turning to Hope with wide and fearful eyes.

"N-Nothing..." he said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He had to be able to make a speedy getaway after all.

"Somehow I doubt it's nothing." Snow said, walking up to them and grinning, "So what is the problem Maqui?"

"W-Well, Lightning didn't get her coffee this morning at home, right? Well, she planned on getting some here, but then it turns out we're all out. I-I might have had the last cup." Hope removed his hand as if it were burned and both Snow and Hope backed away from the doomed blond. It only disheartened him more and reached a hand out in desperation. "No! Don't leave me guys! It's not as if I meant to!"

"I'm sorry, do we know you?" Hope asked, taking another few steps back and putting his hands up.

"I think they let a dead man in the training room Hope."

"Seems so."

"Guys! Don't abandon me!"

Alarms began to sound, loud and screeching, and all three of them jumped. They heard scrambling outside, then a voice sounded over the intercom.

"Attention all available S.C.E. members, a C'ieth attack has been sounded near the northern sector of Gran Pulse. Team Four, please report to the docking area to respond. Repeat, Team Four, please report to the docking area to respond. You will receive your briefing upon your arrival."

The alarms began to buzz again when the voice went silent, all three of them still looking up. Hope was the first to act, and Maqui was a little annoyed that he had the blank look on his face again. "C'mon, that's us."

"W-Wait. Team Four?" Snow asked, hurrying to catch up to Hope as he began a brisk pace toward the docking area.

"Yes. Maqui, you, myself, Lebreau, and Reynold from the Guardian Corps."

"Oh..." Snow felt his face heat up and looked away.

"Did you even check which team you were on this week?" Hope said, eyes the only indication of his annoyance. Even his eyes were blank, and it annoyed the hell out of Maqui. But he supposed it was better than what it had been before Lightning had talked to him...

"Should we try to find them?" Maqui asked, looking around for Lightning. Not that he expected her to show up after that alarm, but one could never be too careful.

"No. If anything, they'll already be there. I'm sure they know which team they're on." Snow grumbled about it being an innocent mistake and Hope smirked. Maqui rolled his eyes but he felt strangely calm as well. Normally C'ieth attacks freaked Hope out, even if most of them were routine, ones that shouldn't really shake him up. Seeing him like this, more himself than he had been in months, was refreshing.

It wasn't long until they made their way to the docking area, Lebreau talking with Reynold, gun resting by her side. They both looked over at them as they arrived and Lebreau hid a snicker behind her hand, Reynold letting out a chuckle.

"Talking about us huh?" Maqui said, rolling his eyes. Reynold blushed and looked away, scratching his head. Lebreau patted him on the back, whispering in his ear before laughing again.

"What did you say about me?" Maqui demanded, puffing his cheeks out.

"Nothing too bad tech head."

"Are we done?" The voice made all of them jump and they turned to Crawford, the man looking annoyed. Lebreau, Maqui, and Hope saw nothing wrong with this, but Reynold and Snow knew better. Crawford rarely, if ever, snapped. If he was like this, what did that mean about this particular attack?

"All right." Crawford said, leading them to one of the drop ships, "We'll have you investigating the northern sector of Gran Pulse, just outside the limits of New Bodhum's outskirts."

This had them all confused, but Hope beat them to the punch, "I'm sorry sir, but if the C'ieth aren't within the outskirts of the city, then why are we taking care of them now? Is it a preemptive strike or is it inevitable that they'll hit New Bodhum?" Hope caught himself before he said anything more and looked down at the ground. "Sorry sir."

"It's all right Estheim, I understand why you're concerned. And normally, you'd be right. We would usually be aware of oncoming attacks if C'ieth were already at the outskirts, skulking around the Gran Pulse wildlife that surrounds the city. But we began to receive a stress signal from one of our radios not long ago. It's was fragmented, but we were able to get enough of it to trace it back to the location. You're all to go and investigate the problem and deal with any C'ieth you may come across."

They all nodded and saluted, but there was a growing dread in each of their stomachs at the orders. They were waiting for it, the reason behind the radio signal even coming from the area in the first place. Crawford gave them each a grave look, and Maqui felt his throat go dry.

"I don't know what you'll find there. But...we did have a few men out on patrol. I expect a report on their condition." There was a long pause, Maqui looking toward Hope, his own hands shaking slightly. Hope had a blank look on his face, all except for the eyes. They were narrowed, worry clouding them, and they looked ahead at the drop ship they were to file into.

"Who were the men on patrol sir?" Hope asked, not meeting the man's eyes. Crawford gave him a sympathetic look, motioning them to get on.

"It was Samuel..." Crawford said before Hope could get on. Maqui watched from the entryway, biting his lip as the man finished, "Samuel and his group. It was part of their punishment..."

"I-I see..."

Hope nodded and gave him a salute before entering the drop ship with the others. Maqui waited for him, making the others go on, and watched as Hope stood staring at the door as it closed up, plunging them into semi-darkness. The ship rumbled, the engines revving loudly as they prepared to enter the air. The sound of doors opening, metal sliding away, let them know they were about to take off, the ship lurching as they were lifted into the air.

"Hope..."

"Just a second Maqui."

Hope bowed his head, allowing himself a sharp gasp and shudder. He clenched his hands, shaking his head, taking a few deep breaths. It was the only display of emotion he would allow himself and they both knew it.

Hope turned back to Maqui, closing himself like a book, and Maqui inwardly winced. This Hope was back, the one who bottled everything up until it all exploded. The Hope who suffered alone and in silence until Rygdea forced him to talk. The Hope that blamed himself for this and might just break if what was waiting for them there...was really what it was. Maqui didn't know how to help this Hope. He'd spent years trying. Desperate to reach him before he slipped away. They all were trying. And for a while it had looked like it was working.

Maqui wondered just how far they had been sent back.