So hey guys, and thanks for tuning into the next chapter of Revenant Wings!
I have some sad news for you all. I so wanted to finish this fic before going back to university (someone save me) on September 4th, but I know-now-that that's not gonna happen. Too much has still yet to happen, and though I have no intentions of abandoning this fic whatsoever, updates are gonna be scarce once uni starts back up. I'm thinking once a week, but I'm going to try to squeeze in as much as I can between work, school, gaming, fangirling with my awesome LadyAlaska... and writing. So that's my little sob story. -.-
My love for my supporters is eternal: H-thar (haha, don't worry, you'll be giving Hope big props in the following chapter), That One Reviewee (well... that repetition was intentional... it sounded right in my head...), Whistlewind Wolf (Well, I try. As I said, I'm doing my best to write as much as I can before school starts, so possibly. n_n And thank you for the spell check, whoops! And as for Light, welll... yeah, like you said, she pretty much lived for Serah, so hopefully someone else *prods* can change that for her?), and GKMader (yeah, sometimes it takes awhile to beat things into her head, y'know? She's stubborn that way). Thank you all so much - this fic hit 10K views sometime last chapter and I honestly cannot tell you how happy that makes me. n_n
I'm not too big of a fan of how this chapter began... I mean, it's okay, but eh... it could've came out better for sure. It struggles along until I think I rework it (you can probably tell where I ragequit last night before picking it up again this morning) but I do like how I close it, so yay? I don't know - enjoy as always!
Chapter 29: Promises
The ashen sands of the beach below them wasn't as promising as Snow had made it sound; foot sinking precariously into the whiteness that reminded her of bones, Lightning tried to keep her breathing steady… for Hope's sake if not for her own—he was hovering at her shoulder and she knew him well enough to know that if some form of her panic and fears showed on her face now, he would spend the rest of the afternoon trying to reassure her of things she already goddamn knew… and just didn't want to fully embrace.
It was tempting—she wanted to believe it, and she had absolutely no doubts that Hope was telling the genuine truth. But Lightning had never left herself so vulnerably open to someone else her entire life, someone who arguably knew her better than she did herself; Hope read her moods often before she was aware that he was doing so… and she hadn't even had to explain herself to him when she'd almost lost it like she had. And that's why I'm selfish… because he's given me everything he has and I can't bring myself to return it. So when I said I was willing to die for him… I meant it.
But Hope would go ballistic if he knew she was thinking like this, would no doubt do everything he could do dissuade that particular sentiment of hers when she knew nothing he said would be enough. She wasn't going to walk around and pretend that it wasn't something that wasn't her fault; she wasn't going to keep going pretending that her lack of willingness to understand his sentiments wasn't something that just showed she didn't deserve any of it. But I…
She wasn't going to keep lying to herself—that was something that never worked, no matter how hard she tried—she wanted it and there was no way she was going to squirm out of that one. But I can still make sure he stays safe… no matter what. Even if he doesn't agree; if I have to hide that from him, then so be it. Fighting's the only thing that I know how to do… so I'll do it.
Taking a breath, Lightning clenched her left hand into a fist as she stared out across the small beach being washed by water that looked curiously turquoise up close, but grey from further away. There was something off about the place—it was incredibly still; apart from the crashing of the waves breaking over the rocky shoreline, there was no other sound apart from their footsteps and the occasional muttered curse coming from Snow.
Resting her hand against the jagged rock that rose above her head, the warmth of it surprised her, even though she knew the source of its heat. There was a soft crunch crunch as Hope bent down beside her, digging his hand into the beach to bring up a handful of bleached sand. "There's nothing living," he remarked quietly; looking around, Lightning realized he was right.
But why not? There was water, there was everything that an organism needed to grow and thrive on this small secluded island in the middle of nowhere, so why wasn't there anything living here? He ploughed on. "Is it because… the gate to the Unseen Realm is here?"
She shrugged. "I don't know." Does it really matter? Moving away from him, she wandered until the waves lapped at the soles of her boots; looking out across the dismally grey lake surface to the dark green smear that had to be miles away. Can I swim that far? She didn't think so—with healing injuries and Snow and Hope—especially Hope—tagging along with her, she wouldn't make it that far even if it would occur on a good day.
But there was nothing else for it; how else were they going to get off this goddamn island? Sure, discovering the gate to the Unseen Realm was nice, but according to the legends—that she still wasn't quite sure she believed—then there were two more spheres they needed to find, not including the one Hope had in his hands, and they still needed to figure out a way to approach the gate itself. Having the glass orb on her person hadn't prevented her from being affected by the pulses of heat just as much as Hope, and Lightning had a feeling that approaching the gate was a different matter altogether.
But so what? If we can't get out of here… we can't do anything. Skirting around the edge of the beach, she tried to think of a way off the island that wouldn't involve swimming. The phoenix? But the glass orb in her pack was as cool and dim as it had been when it had first reappeared, after the fight in the temple, and she couldn't feel the vibrant energy that she somehow knew it would house once it was time for it to be used again. Squinting out again over the grey waves, she wandered away from the beachside; there was nothing else there of interest to her and standing around wasn't her idea of trying to keep her mind off of things.
There was another path that led from the other side of the white sand—it didn't lead up, as far as she could tell, because the stone on this side of the island was one sheer cliff; water swirled in odd dead pockets underneath the rock and it was as devoid of life as the beach had been.
Picking her way along the new path, Lightning had to marvel at the absence of life here—no limpets or barnacles clung to the wet rock; no screeches of waterfowl could be heard over the sound of the crashing waves—apart from her footsteps and occasional grunt of effort, there was silence. But what caught her attention was that there were solitary rocks, standing alone in the grey water that didn't seem to be too far from the shoreline. They dotted the way to a distant peninsula—there were only about four or five that rose up at odd places few and far in between, but it would be infinitely more manageable than if they tried swimming the entire length in one attempt. Narrowing her eyes, Lightning clambered onto a higher ledge of rock to get a better look. Maybe…
"Liiiiight! Where are you?" The sound of her name startled her for a moment; it was Hope's voice calling from a distance, and it was with a defeated sense of guilt twisting her stomach that she realized that she hadn't let him know where she was going.
Leaping down lithely from the rock ledge, she muttered a curse under her breath; debating with herself whether to go back, or to shout from where she was standing to lead them here, Lightning decided on the former—it would be less of a hassle for her to go back than take the risk of Hope and Snow possibly getting lost trying to find her.
Gripping the stone by her left shoulder to keep her balance on the slippery rock, she found Hope looking restless when she finally came into view. "Maker, Light," he muttered when she was within earshot. "You scared me. I thought you ran off again."
Allowing a dry smile to pull at the corner of her lips, she shrugged one shoulder. "There isn't really much to run away from… I could probably walk around this entire island in about twenty minutes." But she wasn't going to deny it—his concern reached the tiniest finger of warmth into her chest and she held onto that. "But I found something."
Snow crunched over in the sand, cracking the knuckles of one hand with the other. "Really?"
Giving him a brisk nod, she turned to go back down the rock path, careful of the waves that were becoming more violent now that night was beginning to set in—a cold wind was beginning to blow, kicking the water to higher arcs than they were before and several times, the icy lake spray splashed on her bare calves, causing her to wince as it slid down her exposed skin.
Lightning heard Hope's sharp intake of breath the moment the solitary rocks in the lake became visible; she took the moment to give him a critical glance. Would he make it? She would sure have to hope so—she couldn't see any other way off the island and as precarious this would be, making it to the other side of the lake was an impossible task barring a miracle. And we're going to need one.
Snow leaned back against the wet rock, clearly deep in thought. "I think it's possible, if the water wasn't too high or anything. I mean, wouldn't want to be swimming out there in a storm. We should give it a go."
What she wanted to say was that there wouldn't be a second chance for any of them the moment they stepped into the water; quite literally, it would be do or die the moment they left the island. But since she'd brought the idea up in the first place, Lightning kept her mouth shut, discreetly watching Hope for a sign of protest.
But there was none: he was staring out at the rocks, some of them no bigger than a large boulder that would provide only a brief rest before they had to move on with an intense scrutiny on his face. "Yeah," he agreed finally. "There's no other way possible… and if we die trying, it's not going to be any worse than waiting for all of Gran Pulse to turn to hell while we stay here."
Snow laughed. "Well said, kid. I'm in. But why don't we save the swimming for tomorrow morning—it's getting cold and we could all use a rest." Giving her a pointed look, he crossed his arms over his chest again, clearly waiting for an approval.
Lightning wanted to argue—sure, they were probably short on sleep, but the sad truth about the place was that it was devoid of life; the lake water probably wasn't drinkable to begin with and with no other living creatures, there wouldn't be any food. Delaying too long would mean that we wouldn't have any stamina, no matter how well rested we would be. But she kept her mouth shut, seeing the exhausted look on Hope's face; noting, with the familiar pang somewhere in the vicinity of her lungs, the small slice to his cheek that hadn't quite fully healed since their time in the mountain.
"Fine." Stuffing away the omega weapon, her hand brushed against the curved blade of the survival knife tucked into her belt; the feel of the cold metal bringing back the old, lingering sense of regret and guilt in a heartbeat.
Maker, please tell me I'm not doing the wrong thing all over again.
The sound of the waves beating restlessly against shore was a sound that he was unused to, but it was somehow familiar all the same, as he tried to get comfortable against the rock. Hope was grateful for its unnatural warmth in such a cold night, but what he—still—couldn't get used to was the sound of Snow's snores that could be heard over the lapping water; he cast a furtive glance in the direction of the rock that Lightning was sitting on. She'd volunteered to take the first watch, and under the dim silver light of the faint moon that had managed to peek out from behind the heavy clouds, he couldn't help but think about how vulnerable she looked by herself.
The events of the day had finally managed to catch up to him sometime in between discovering what might be their only way off this secluded island and picking a rock to lean against for the night. The sand underneath his fingers was smooth, but it wasn't comforting, knowing that it didn't sustain life…and just where they were.
Giving up on sleep for the time being when he couldn't feel his heart rate steadying in any way, shape, or form, Hope found himself wandering over to the rock that Lightning had picked. She heard him before he was even halfway there, narrowing her ice blue gaze at him with a guarded suspicion, but she didn't speak until he was just underneath the perch she'd chosen.
Leaping down lightly, she rested one hand on her hip. "You should be resting," she remarked dryly. "It's not going to be easy tomorrow."
"I couldn't sleep," he answered honestly, hoping that she wouldn't send him away with the direction to 'try'. She snorted softly at the answer before sitting down against the rock, one knee pulled to her chest. "So what's wrong now?" she asked quietly, the hint of her old barb in her voice as he sat down beside her.
He stared at the back of his hand for a few moments before replying. "I don't know… You. Light," he began quietly. "You really were serious when you said that he'd get me over your dead body… weren't you?"
What Hope hadn't been prepared for was to feel her flinch beside him; when she didn't reply, he continued, unsure as ever now as to the conversation topic he'd picked. Please don't be mad at me. "I don't want you to."
"Haven't we already discussed this?" she asked, a flat, removed tone to her voice. "Hope, I said…" she bridged her hand across her face, rubbing the corners of her eyes with her forefinger and thumb. "I said I got it."
He didn't want to bring up the topic that she'd hidden things from him 'for the greater good' before; it would only incite an argument that neither of them needed at the moment. "I know," he acquiesced quietly. "It's just… I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted, afraid to look at her because he didn't want to see the reaction that he was honestly scared of.
"Well, stop," she suggested, with a tone of finality to her voice. Taking the hint that this was the end of that particular discussion, he decided to try a different tack at conversation.
"…Um, Light?"
"Mmhm?"
He took a breath, suddenly feeling as anxious about this particular topic he'd picked arbitrarily in his mind as he felt about the last. But… I've been wondering for a long time. It was a topic that needed closure, in one way or another, and selfishly, he wanted to hear it from her rather than a twisted, garbled version from the enemies they would no doubt meet somewhere down the line, provided they made it through the gamble they were planning to take the following morning. "Remember… when you told me that there was something you were going to think through… and that you'd tell us once you sorted it out for yourself? I know it's been a long time… and I know about a million things've happened since… but do you think you could tell me now?"
Lightning was silent for awhile; the silence growing to consume the space between them until the only thing that he had as reassurance that she was still a living, breathing human beside him was her faint heartbeat that he could feel because their shoulders were touching. A soft snort brought him back into reality—for a moment, he was unsure what, exactly, had elicited that particular reaction until he realized she was turned towards him with a look of surprised amusement in her aquamarine gaze. "You remember something from that far back?" she asked lightly.
Feeling sheepish, he shrugged slightly, feeling a small smile tug at his own mouth. "Well, yeah." Feeling that it was better not to elaborate for the moment being, he watched her sigh quietly.
"Sorry," she apologized. "It's not funny, it's just… I'm surprised you remembered, all things considered."
"So what was it?"
She sighed again, before wrapping both arms around the knee she'd brought to her chest. "Remember… what happened, back then? Four years ago?" When he nodded, she continued; Hope could notice the effort she was making to keep her voice flat and controlled now. "So all of this that's been happening… it's because of it."
Blinking, Hope stared at her for a few moments, unsure of what she was trying to say until the facts that they'd mulled through together earlier in the afternoon came back to him. "What?" Please don't tell me… When she didn't say anything, carefully looking away from him, he knew his suspicions were right; he could see now, why she'd had a hard time accepting it—it was like a blow to the gut, that everything they'd done to save the world then hadn't been enough, that everything they'd done then was only coming back to haunt them now. But we can't… let this stop us, right? We still have to keep going, right?
"I know what you're going to say." Lightning spoke before he could open his mouth—she was still carefully looking away from him, but her left hand had curled into a fist atop her knee as she stared out at the restless waves. "And sometime between running for my life… and running for yours, I knew that we had to keep going. Because if this is our fault… then we have to fix it, right?"
Hope could feel the smile genuinely stretching his lips now. "Right." Draping his hand over hers, he waited until she relaxes under the slight hold, allowing him to intertwine his fingers with hers. "You didn't need me to tell you that this time."
She flicked her gaze back at him then, the calm serenity in her teal gaze reassuring him that she wasn't thinking about blaming herself; wasn't thinking about self-sacrifice for him at this moment. "Some things… I can figure out, okay?"
Chuckling, and feeling gratified when she didn't resist the arm he snaked around her other shoulder, Hope felt her tense a little when he murmured something against her hair. "I still don't want you to leave again…Light."
She blinked up at him then, lifting her head so that she could look at him on the same eye level. "Sorry," she apologized quietly, before a pained sigh left her lips. "But I can't change how I feel."
And I know that. But I promised I'd protect you too; that's why… that's why this time, I'm not going to let you throw yourself into harm's way simply because you want to protect me.
The icy water threatened to stick to her skin the moment she waded into the grey waves past her knee—it was cold, but also not as cold as she honestly would've expected a lake to be on the cusp of winter. Hearing Snow mutter a curse at her left shoulder, she fought the urge to pull her hand out of Hope's; sure, the blond wouldn't be able to see, but she sure as hell didn't need any distractions for the moment being. Lightning let it go, though—there wouldn't be a chance for conversation for a long while yet and she wanted to reassure him that she was okay.
Which was, of course, metaphorically speaking—he'd left her feeling strangely empowered by their brief conversation before she'd finally shooed him off with the direction that he really needed to get some rest. But his quiet assertion, his acceptance that what was happening now was directly related to four years ago made her feel that there was a way to fix it all… And he has to make it.
It hadn't changed her earlier resolve in any way, and Lightning suspected that Hope knew that he couldn't change how she felt. And that's something… he'll have to learn to accept before he gets any crazy ideas worked up into his head. "Ready?" she rasped quietly, hoping that her voice could be heard above the cutting wind that seemed so much louder now that they were offshore.
The icy waves could've been knives dragging along the exposed skin on her arms, and for a moment, Lightning had to stop and consider exactly how suicidal their attempt could turn out to be. Lungs already burning for oxygen, there was almost no salt in the water to hope for buoyancy, and the new skin was still stretched uncomfortably tight across the back of her left leg, slowing her down more than was absolutely necessary. Afraid to put her head under the water for fear of hypothermia, she could only keep her eyes on the goal she had in mind—the jutting rock about half a kilometre out that would hopefully have enough room to hold all three of them.
She couldn't even turn around to gauge Hope and Snow's progess; the water around her dimmed her sense of hearing and the only thing she could keep her mind on was to keep going. But having a goal was something she could understand, however physically uncomfortable she was at the moment—and that was infinitely better than wandering around by herself, wondering if she'd ever see him again because of the stupid mistakes she'd made. And for that aspect, Lightning was grateful; here, at least, she could keep an eye on him to make sure that no further harm would come to him if things came down to it; here, he was within her reach, whether it was because she needed him… or the other way around.
It still bothered her a little, with the way her mental and emotional well-being had come to almost completely rely on him in the months in between summer, and now, but it was a fact that, embarrassingly, she could accept. And that's why… I have to keep you safe.
Fighting against the rolling waves of icy, grey lake water, it was more than twenty minutes later that she gripped the slick, icy rock above her head to drag herself out of the cold water, dripping wet. Looking back to see that Hope had indeed kept up with her, she reached down to pull him out of the water as Snow came up spluttering. The frosty breeze made goosebumps rise on her skin, and Lightning fought the urge to shiver, even though she knew the motion would be involuntary. "Should we take a break?"
Painstakingly, she knew that the next rock, far off in the distance, would take them equally as long—the icy water was more draining than she thought it would be and their progress was hampered enough as it was. Hope was too busy trying to catch his breath to reply, and she saw Snow's waterlogged trench coat dripping as he sat down on a rock, holding up a hand to denote five minutes.
Giving him a brief nod of assent, Lightning moved to stand beside Hope, hoping that their close proximity would allow for some of their conjoined body heat to calm him. He was taller than her now, true, but one look into his familiar emerald green gaze reminded her, painfully, that he still wasn't much older than a child. Turning eighteen eight months ago didn't automatically make him a mature adult, however much he might've otherwise acted like one, and she told herself to remember that. "You okay?" she asked quietly.
When he nodded, she was only slightly more reassured than she had been before. "You have to tell me… if you need a break, okay?"
But when they slipped back into the icy, foaming water again, Lightning knew he was lagging behind—he didn't have the stamina that she or Snow had and it would start to show soon enough. Yelling through a mouthful of lake water for Snow to go on ahead, she waited until he caught up to her, flecks of icy liquid flying everywhere in her attempt to tread water without letting the lake close over her head.
Fighting to keep both him and herself above the water was harder after that. She'd yelled at him to stop arguing with her the moment she knew he was going to protest at her helping him, and even though she knew Hope was trying his best to keep up with her motions and keep as much of his weight from pulling her down as he could, their progress was painfully slow; aches were beginning to drag at her back and she swallowed water more than once.
I have to keep him safe.
That thought alone was enough to make her push her body further, but even so, when Lightning finally dragged herself up the thankfully-larger rock that wasn't as hard for her to pull herself up onto. Breathing hard, she wiped sopping bangs off her face, cutting across Hope before he could speak the moment he was able to. "Save it," she rasped at him, pinning his hand underneath hers in an attempt to stop him from doing whatever the hell he wanted to do at the moment. "It's not your fault." It's mine… even if there was no other way off that island, the idea was still mine.
He closed his mouth obediently at that, but she could read the expression in his achingly familiar viridian gaze well enough. Snow cracked his knuckles behind them. "Well… on the bright side, we're almost there."
Following Snow's gaze, she could make out the now much-closer smear of green that dotted the shoreline; Lightning could make out the edges of the pine trees that stood above the grass now, but she had doubts as to how much further they—Hope—could go. Breathing hard through her nose, she tried to fight the waves of fatigue that were clinging to her—she'd been drained in battle before, but that was before… when she arguably only had herself to look after; the only other time that she'd felt this tired and had to take care of someone else was back at the mountain, in which she had struggled and fought to catch his faltering life with her own. But now…
This wasn't terrain they were used to: water sloshed around them in what seemed like neverending waves; she was painfully aware of the fact that none of them had a high level of tolerance when it came to swimming, and really, they were lucky that no enemies had come after them yet: none of them were in any condition for a serious fight, and with just over half a mile to go before the shoreline—terra firma—could greet them, they couldn't have been in a more vulnerable position.
The wind was starting to pick up now—it had to be close to afternoon and the grey tears across the sky weren't clearing; as cold as it was, her hair was beginning to dry in tangled curls and Lightning knew if they delayed any further they wouldn't be able to make it at all. She curled her hand lightly around his upper arm. "Come on… let's go."
The look he gave her could've made her stop then and there… if she didn't know that there were worse things out there in Gran Pulse that were after them all. But the look in Hope`s eyes held nothing but fatigue and guilt, and selfishly, she knew it was her fault. "I'll keep you safe," she vowed quietly—the exact same promise she'd given him under a setting orange sun in a world that felt like it was a million eons apart from where they were now.
Hope twitched a hand in her direction, as if he wanted to deny that fact, but Lightning didn't want to hear it. Stepping into the lake water again, she found that her feet could touch bottom now—the water level was still somewhere in the vicinity of her neck, but it would no longer be a struggle of thrashing limbs and lungs screaming for an adequate amount of oxygen amidst icy, rolling waves.
Water weeds dragged at her ankles and calves, tangling around them as she fought to free herself from the spindly plants and growths that littered the bottom of the lake—here though, she was reassured that there was at least some form of life. Noting dryly that both Hope and Snow were having an easier time than she was, Lightning kicked out at the plants knotting themselves around her boots.
"Light?" Hope's timid, out of breath voice from half a step ahead of her made her glance in his direction. "How long do you think it'll take them to notice that we're gone?"
She shook her head, before she remembered that he wouldn't be able to see her. "I don't know." Fervently, Lightning hoped that Arturo wouldn't send anybody to check, though she knew that was wishful thinking. He'll find out… eventually. She'd been about to voice that this wasn't the time to be discussing that particular topic when Snow let out a strangled yell in front of them.
Whipping around, she saw exactly what he was looking at within heartbeats. Monsters. In the struggle for survival, she'd completely forgotten that there would've still been monsters lurking around somewhere; especially in such a remote area, where there wasn't a sign of any recent civilization, they were bound to come across them sooner or later. And I've been stupid to expect that we wouldn't encounter any. Lightning wanted to slap herself—she hadn't considered monsters when they'd planned their escape route from the island and now they were going to pay the price.
Unsheathing her omega weapon from behind her, she cursed the water plants that were underfoot; they hampered her movement and the Ceratoraptors could swim faster than any of them could run at the moment. Shit!
The first one launched itself at its nearest target—her—with large jaws opened to show the tiny, pointy teeth. Jerking her leg free of the tangled weed, she ducked to the side. The teeth missed her by a matter of inches, but the resulting splash as the monster landed back into the lake sprayed her with water, blinding her for a moment.
Wiping the water off her face, she tried to catch the aquatic monster with the edge of her weapon, but the Ceratoraptor was fast—the blade of her weapon only grazed against its skin as it went in for another attack. Snow's yell of triumph in the distance was only slightly reassuring—it wasn't him she was worried about. Fighting through icy water and plant material to reach Hope, Lightning buried the tip of her gunblade into the back of one that was about to fasten its jaws into his shoulder; throwing it away from her, she gave him a quick glance to make sure he was okay.
Hope was still standing, but there wasn't any time to give him more than a cursory glance. Briefly, she remembered that he still had his Watera manadrive with him—before she realized that it wouldn't help them now. "Get moving!" she hissed to him; the Ceratoraptors wouldn't be able to follow them onto land very far and fighting on land was going to take infinitely less effort than it was right now. Giving him a rough shove in the direction of the shoreline, Lightning turned back to face the three remaining Ceratoraptors.
They were growing wary now that they were splashing closer to shore, but she knew they hadn't given up yet—they had the ferocious, hungry look of monsters that hadn't found a good bit of prey in awhile. Still backing away as fast as the plants and the water resistance would allow them to, she saw one of them tense for an attack, leaping for her head.
Without thinking, she ducked—remembering too late that Hope was behind her. His pained yelp was all she needed to hear before Lightning forced herself into motion, moving on pure instinct now that whatever plan she'd had in the first place had been thrown out the window by the reflex that she hadn't thought through.
Turning around, swiping her omega weapon at the monster, she prised it off of his shoulder, letting it drop into the water with a dull splash; breathing hard, she tried to gauge how much damage it had done—he was bleeding, she could see that and something icy and cold gripped at her lungs when she realized that had she not ducked—and she consciously put him before her—it wouldn't have happened.
"Light!" His warning had barely made it to her ears before Lightning felt something close its jaws around her waist, tiny sharp teeth digging into her side. Fighting to free herself, she wrenched at it with her free hand, feeling skin and cloth tear underneath the grip the monster had on her side. Slamming the blade of her weapon into its body, its jaws relaxed around her for a brief heartbeat, but it was enough to pull the dazed Ceratoraptor off of her and throw it back into the water.
Mud joined the weeds underfoot as they struggled towards the shoreline, Snow's yells and splashes coming from further ahead as she tried to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain in her side. It wasn't bad—the monster's fangs hadn't been long enough to do much more than a few puncture wounds in her side, but that pain was nothing compared to the sinking, defeated feeling in her stomach. If I hadn't ducked…
The remaining Ceratoraptor seemed to think twice about attacking them now—its comrades were drifting away in the restless beat of the waves and it wouldn't have a chance against them; diving back into the grey waters, it disappeared from sight just as Lightning felt something more than mud and weeds scrape against the bottom of her boots.
Dripping wet, the only thing she wanted to do was to stay on the pebbly beachside and sleep, but the soldier sense inside knew that allowing them to remain exposed by the lakeside would only guarantee more monsters after them the moment night fell.
There was a clearer area about twenty feet inland that would have to do—her arms and legs felt like jelly and she doubted that anyone would be able to make it further—the clearing was ringed by a copse of trees that would at least prevent them from being seen outright from the other side of the lake. Gripping Hope's wrist to pull him along, Snow was also emerging with his tattered trench coat dripping as the pebbles crunched underfoot.
Finally collapsing under one of the trees that ringed the small clearing, it was a long time before any of them stopped gasping for breath to speak. "That went well." Snow was leaning against a tree trunk, arms crossed over his chest; even from where she was sitting, Lightning could see the scratch and teeth marks of the Ceratoraptors dragged across his arms.
"It could've gone better," Hope rasped from beside her.
"True. I mean, I could've done without that little brawl there with those fish… but it could've been worse. A lot worse." Snow finished the second sentence with a meaningful look in her direction, as if warning her to keep her mouth shut.
The stiff breeze was still blowing across the water as Lightning moved to settle herself on a fallen log in the middle of the clearing—it wasn't exactly warm, but her clothes were beginning to dry in the wind and she could feel her hair being tangled again into curls that draped over her left shoulder. "Well." Snow uncrossed his arms as he stretched, shaking out the cloth of the beige coat. "I'm gonna go look around, see if I can't find anything to eat."
She started to get up after him—for the sake of having something to do, before Snow wagged a finger in her face. "Ah ah… Sis, you look tired. Leave the hunting to the hero, aight?" With that, he turned to slouch away into the pine green of the forest before she could protest.
A timid tug on her arm made her turn around—the last thing she wanted to do right now was to talk to him, but deep down, Lightning knew that distancing herself from Hope would only make things worse than they were already. "Are you okay?" She had a hand wrapped around her abdomen, fingers and palm covering the marks left in her waist by the Ceratoraptors, but she wasn't going to worry him about that now.
"I should be asking you that," she mumbled lamely, not wanting to look directly at him. I'm sorry.
He pulled a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I'm fine," he insisted quietly, "Look, Light, it isn't even all that serious."
"But I—"
Hope stopped her before she could continue, an intense frustration lighting his emerald gaze that made her outburst stop somewhere at the back of her throat. "Light, if you hadn't ducked… it would've been a lot worse, okay? So stop before you start hating yourself for something else that isn't your fault."
Biting her bottom lip, she tried to squirm out from under his grip; that proved to be an impossible task because Hope's grip on her was anything but gentle—Lightning had to content herself with looking down because she didn't think she could hold his gaze for much longer.
"You told me," he began in a low voice, "that you didn't want me to get so caught up with looking after you. Remember?" When she didn't reply, he continued. "Why can't you see that I feel the same way? I don't want you throwing yourself into danger every time something's after me because that's the way you feel. How the hell d'you think I'd feel if you got yourself hurt—or worse, killed—because you were trying to protect me?"
She didn't have a response to that, because Lightning knew exactly how she would feel had she been in his shoes. Can I really blame him for feeling the same way?
"I don't want you to do that… okay?" She didn't think she was imaging the fear in his voice.
A pained whimper forcing its way past her throat, she found herself leaning forwards against his throat, still breathing heavily as she tried to use his steady heartbeat to calm her own. "I'm sorry," she mumbled again, voice muffled against him. She heard his low chuckle as his fingers combed lightly through her tangled, cherry coloured locks.
"Don't do it again… and I won't mention it anymore." Lightning could hear the effort it took him to keep his voice light, even though his tone was teasing; Hope lowered its volume as he continued. "I don't want repayment… or whatever you're thinking about right now. I want you to stay safe." Taking a step back from him, she tried to accept what he was saying—she could understand it, even if she didn't like it. But… he's had to accept things he didn't like either—remember, Farron? You forced him to go live with Snow because you thought that he needed a 'normal' life. If he was supposed to accept that, then…
She didn't have to like it… but if she didn't want to jeopardize their relationship—the one that she had come so quickly to rely on—any further than she already had, she had to accept that. I have to accept how he feels too.
Something like the ghost of a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. "Okay."
"Is that for real this time?" he asked her; she could hear the amusement mixed with frustration in his voice. "We've had this discussion three times in the last two days."
Lightning allowed the dry smile to widen. "Shut up before I change my mind."
Darkness claimed the forest like a shroud as the muted sounds of night pervaded through the pine forest. As exhausted as he was, Hope found that he couldn't sleep, even though they were 'safe'… for the time being. Dismissing all purpose of a watch when they were all so tired, Snow had long since fallen asleep against a fallen stump, arms crossed over his chest. He could take comfort in the fact that Lightning was curled on her side about a foot away from him, arm still draped over her stomach—only in sleep, provided that she wasn't having a nightmare, did she look like a young woman who might've known—really known—what the word 'happiness' meant.
But Hope wasn't going to lie to himself—finally getting certain concepts through to her proved to be more encouraging than he'd thought. It wasn't that she was stubbornly in denial or anything—there were just some beliefs so indentured into her brain that it took more than just effort to help her change them. I don't want you dying for me. Ever.
That was the one thought he knew he had to convince her of; it was selfish, maybe, but just like her, he didn't want to lose someone else that meant so much to him. Casting another glance at her sleeping form, Hope draped his right hand over his knee, hoping that this afternoon would've finally convinced her otherwise. I hope so.
This chapter was originally meant to be longer, but I like how it ended here... so that's that. As Hope says, the 'closure' of certain facts is nice enough, no need for me to ruin it with the next plot point. n_n (I totally didn't just say that, whoopsie daisy)
Anyways, to be honest, I don't think the next chapter is gonna be up before Sunday; I'm pretty busy with work on Friday and Saturday (though the latter should give me some time to write for sure) but do expect some major action/awesomeness (I hope?) in Chapter 30! :3 I can't say for sure how much more there'll be, but we do have some major things that need happening before your little 'happily ever after' (oops, my bad) comes along in the epilogue. ^w^
So leave a review, pretty please; let me know how I did (comments/critique always loved) and I'll see you soon!
Hearts!
