Two days after that and Hope was beyond frustrated.
"Give it time," Aina told him calmly in her daily updates, her tone as smooth and unaffected as ever. "The other executives understand. The average duration of illnesses last one week, and it's currently impossible to exact a rate of recovery for individual persons."
Of course he understood that. Hope himself had marked many absences due to bugs and exhaustion down as illnesses, allowing fellow researchers whatever time they needed to recuperate. With the archaeological inspection already performed by another and all his meetings either rescheduled or delegated, Hope had plenty of time to get better before he was needed back in Luxerion.
But it was a week now and despite all attempts at composure, Hope felt like he was losing his mind. He shouldn't be on the far side of the 'average' duration of illnesses, not when he always recovered fast enough on the rare occasion he got sick in the first place. It was hard enough to leave all the work to other Academy employees, but even the reports he had to catch up on…
He threw the tablet down before himself in bed, feeling a measure angry and disgusted. Despite all the rest he had been getting, or attempting to get, it had been an entire week and he couldn't seem to concentrate long enough to read through a single report. His mind wandered, easily distracted due to the pressure headache that constantly throbbed under his skin and within his skull. He wanted to spend the time Snow and Noel had been gone from the tiny apartment to get things done, but…
Hope leaned over to rest his elbows on crossed legs, and placed his face within warm palms. Thankfully the pain that accompanied breathing several days ago had diminished greatly, which made his life a thousand times easier, but the constant cough had yet to go away. It was wetter now, perhaps a better sign than the painful dryness the first several days.
If he could just sleep through the night now, he felt his rate of recovery would improve drastically. If he napped during the day, he wouldn't be able to sleep at night until it was nearly dawn, and that meant either Noel or Snow would end up staying up with him as well, which he didn't want. Yet he couldn't seem to shake the exhaustion which accompanied an entire week of interrupted sleep. His mind immediately compared it to some bleary eyed researchers he had listened to and comforted in the past — especially those with newborns at home who needed attention at all hours of night. While those people had been getting the amount of sleep necessary, the constant interruptions meant they were more tired than ever.
If this was how they felt, Hope thought as he pressed heavily against his temples, then he was never, ever… well, babysitting, he supposed. (Children were too distant a thought; an impossibility for him.)
It wouldn't be so bad, he thought, if he could only concentrate on something. He could have used this break to get so much work done, and yet with all the time he now had on his hands, he could do absolutely nothing at all. He couldn't so much as read through a single report without distraction, much less actually assess the value of what was presented and come up with a suitable response. He was restless and exhausted, with too much time on his hands and yet unable to do anything properly. The combination made for a slow build of frustration overlayed with the original irritation regarding the negative symptoms of his illness.
His stomach grumbled. Apparently consuming little more than water, ice cream, and cough syrup the past several days had not appeased it in the slightest.
Great. Hope thought blearily through his headache. Can't eat, can't sleep, can't work.
To simply say he was frustrated would be severely underestimating his feelings on the subject.
Not that he was going to inform the other two if he could help it. A single moment of weakness several days ago had resulted in him — in his whining for something easier to consume than Snow's soup. That hadn't been something Hope wanted to happen again, not when he was supposed to be the mature one; not hen he was supposed to take care of the others, take care of everyone. He was likely the eldest now (Snow's age had been a very blurry subject), and intended to act it. Hope was used to being well-composed. He could do this.
He just had to remember what Aina said — this would only be for a few days, after all. And after that… after that, things would all go back to normal. He'd get back to work, and Snow and Noel would leave for their respective responsibilities.
They'd all go back to their own separate corners again, only interacting whenever forced.
No, that was the headache talking. It wasn't like that at all. Noel was around whenever he could be, and Snow checked up on them every week. It was just that Hope buried himself in his work whenever possible, understanding that despite the fact that the world was consumed by chaos and therefore no one aged (or perhaps specifically because of that), there was still no time to waste. He had to get as much done as he could every day. Aging or not, the chaos being a hindrance or not, there were still people he cared about that he still needed to help. He still had friends trapped in crystal; he still hadn't saved humanity from extinction.
Thanks to the lack of new life, every soul lost now was a blow to mankind.
Which meant that despite the lack of aging, Hope was once again working within a time limit. If he took too long to figure out a solution to this problem, then humanity would die out anyway.
(Maybe he was the one who had retreated into his own little corner, unable to deal with having people who might matter to him close again.)
The painkillers really did absolutely nothing for his head.
If he took more than he was supposed to, he knew, Snow would just take it away (just like with the cough syrup). But that didn't matter because it wasn't the typical headaches Hope had long since adjusted to due to his work — no painful pounding or pulsing in his skull, but rather a constant pressure just under the skin, as if someone was slowly tightening a clamp around his head from all directions. It made eating painful, it made acting normal precarious, and it made thinking on one subject for an extended period of time downright impossible, always turning his thoughts back towards his irritation or pain.
He glanced down to the tablet, brain attempting to filter through the thick medical and scientific jargon that accompanied the illustrious wording of someone who wanted to showcase the very best of their idea while downsizing the negatives. From what he had been able to gather, in bits and pieces, there was a small group on the outposts of Luxerion pleading for the funding to further look into the lack of human aging in the chaos. Something to do with experiments to determine whether the development of people had stopped as well, such as feelings, emotions, and brain chemistry. The hypothesis being that if the chaos halted human aging the moment it hit this world, then it might have also have stuck a wrench in human brain chemistry.
Those in love will stay in love; the sick will never truly recover, and the despairing would always despair. There would be not only a lack of aging, but a lack of improvement and growth for humanity even in spirit.
Hope didn't want that to be true.
He wanted to argue that it couldn't be true, because people were still asking questions, were still getting sick, were still not only going about their daily lives but learning new things as well. He wanted to deny the research, but the truth of the matter was that the youngest of their children simply weren't learning. Perhaps it really was because the brain wasn't growing, but perhaps there was something to this theory as well. If toddlers hadn't learnt to speak before, they might never learn to speak so long as the chaos surrounded this world.
All the same, he wondered if it was bad manners to approve the project but then assign it to different people. It wouldn't do for the original group to start hiding results that didn't go their way, and it was better for a more… objective point of view, anyway.
Any other time, and he would have written a response to be looked over by Aina within minutes instead of pondering over this matter for the past four hours. He just couldn't seem to get the wording right in his head, couldn't decide on what he could say that wouldn't disappoint the petitioners.
Not to mention, he was a bit distracted by the extension to his stay in the Dead Dunes. The original plan had only been for a week, and then to stop off on Bhunivelze to input data gathered before heading back to Luxerion. Apparently Snow had once again interfered with his calls and now his itinerary involved another day in the desert before a private transport to the still under construction Yuusnan.
Which meant he was probably going to get nothing done at all. It was unacceptable.
He didn't understand Snow's current need to interfere with his life. Hope had been doing just fine on his own the past several years. If nothing else, he was an adult who could handle himself; had handled himself well in a variety of situations. Being smothered now was…
Hope let himself fall on his side onto the bed, muffling the frustrated sounds he made into the blanket. Maybe he could sneak out somehow past the others. Take his life back into his control. Crush the illness if he could only —
There was a knock, and then the door opened. Hope didn't bother looking up from where he was lying in bed, hoping that whoever it was would just assume was he taking a nap and leave him alone.
"Snow finally listened to me." It was Noel's voice, and somehow Hope wasn't too surprised since the hunter tended to move with such a fluid grace it was near impossible to hear him coming and going if he didn't purposefully make noise. Snow, on the other hand, tended to be loud in everything he did whether it was stomping around in the fashion he liked to call walking, bumping into every other thing in his way, or even just the way his tone tended to cut through distances without needing to so much as raise his voice.
(Admittedly, it was a skill Hope never managed to learn, much to his dismay. Instead, he relied on his own meager presence and a bit of patience before others usually quieted enough to listen to him.)
There was a shift, unusual for the hunter since he was normally so silent in his movement. "He called up a doctor in Yuusnan to meet us when we get there—"
If nothing else, that made Hope stop pretending to be asleep, instead pushing himself up on his arms and glaring over at Noel (who probably didn't deserve his ire, but he hadn't thought it entirely through yet so he wasn't sure). "What? Why?"
The thought was ridiculous. If Hope needed a medical doctor, there were plenty employed under the Academy. Not to mention, he had a full health check up not five months ago and was completely caught up with the latest inoculations and examinations. This was nothing more than a cold (combined with allergies, which they had found out several days ago when the antihistamines helped greatly), albeit a stubborn one. Other than persistent minor flu symptoms that were grating on his nerves, there was nothing more wrong.
"Because you sound like you've swallowed cheese grater." The answer didn't come from Noel, but from the man who stuck his head through the bedroom door. For someone who had been stuck in a tiny area for nearly a week and subjected to minor tantrums on a regular basis as well as being awoken at all hours of the night, Snow looked rather cheerful and not in the least bit guilty about having suddenly moved in and completely taken over Hope's life.
"Let's play a game." Snow nodded sagely. "Called — if you can stop coughing for more than five minutes at a time when you're awake, then we'll cancel the doctor."
Hope narrowed his eyes at the man, ignoring the worried look Noel was shooting between the both of them even as he swallowed heavily once, twice, attempting to dispel the inevitable itch. It couldn't be that hard. He just needed to focus his willpower, after all, and this was a good challenge to rise up to. "Fine. I stop coughing, and you leave me alone altogether."
"Done deal." Snow accepted quickly, and then added, "But I get to decide when to start the timer, okay?"
.
.
An hour later, even Noel was starting to look amused despite his worry.
"Shut it," Hope wheezed in his direction even as the brunet raised his hands in surrender, backing up a step in the tiny kitchen area as Hope raised his half full glass of water threateningly. "This is harder than you think."
.
.
Nearly three hours, many glasses of water and plenty of bathroom breaks in between, and Hope sat down next to Snow on the couch quite smugly while the blond was reading a book.
"I don't need a doctor." Hope told him, smug despite the raising itch in his throat. It was just over five minutes, after all, and he hadn't realized before this just how often he had been coughing, even if it was just a quick cough to clear his throat most of the time.
"What was that?" Snow asked, not raising his attention from the book. "You want me to start the timer now?"
Hope gaped for a moment, then drew in a sharp breath to yell only to have that air get stuck in his throat and urge a quick coughing fit.
"That didn't last very long." Snow observed, looking like he was trying very hard to smother a pleased grin. "Maybe you should practice more before — Ow! Wait, Hope, hey! Stop hitting me already! That actually hurts!"
"That is the point."
.
.
Needless to say, Hope was sulking pointedly by evening, and then through the transit the next day as well, burying his nose in datalogs and refusing to so much as speak or look at Snow. Noel found it amusing at first, mostly because he somehow remained the neutral party and was often called upon to relay messages between the two despite them still being in the same room. That feeling wore off quickly when even Snow started getting a little tired of the invisible treatment. Luckily, it never went further than that and despite the sullen silences through the day, they arrived in Yuusnan without any further incident.
Noel didn't quite understand just how Hope managed to be perfectly cordial to the doctor Snow had called in, answering her questions and enduring her examination with a calm and almost serene demeanor while at the same time refusing to glance in Snow's direction.
"Don't worry about it." Snow told Noel when the hunter brought that up, clapping the younger man on the shoulder with a strained smile. Despite his upbeat attitude, it wasn't too hard to tell that even the older man was stretched thin attempting to deal with Hope's illness (and perhaps, the uncharacteristic attitude that accompanied it). "Think of it as a good thing if you're going to keep thinking about it."
"As a good thing?" Noel asked incredulously, not even bothering to pull back from Snow's overenthusiastic idea of physical affection. He couldn't see how the constant verbal sniping the past week had been a good thing at all.
The entire week had worn on him despite the two days when he had thrown his frustration against the creatures of the Dead Dunes. Noel found he disliked playing mediator between a sick and peevish Hope and a fed up Snow. He didn't know how Hope constantly did it for other people.
Snow just shook his head slightly, but it was neither disapproving nor an answer to Noel's question. Noel found his attention diverted when the doctor (a solidly built lady with short cropped brown hair who was almost as tall as he was) pulled out a penlight to check Hope's eyes. While the two of them chatted amiably over in the other side of the room, the hunter found himself having to unclench his fingers, far too used to enemies pulling weapons from pockets rather than doctors and their equipment. It was easier now that he was more acclimated to society, but back when he had been traveling with Serah, the slightest twitch and laugh of a person far off would send him tense and ready for battle.
Noel had never grown up with so many people; so many strangers. At the end of times, he had been taught to protect Yeul against enemies, yes— but those were mostly singular or in small groups. He could take down the largest and fiercest of monsters, but traveling back in time posed a new concern he never learnt to deal with: people, or strangers, and more importantly, mobs.
Strength in numbers had been nothing more than a distant concept to Noel before he met Serah. His experience with that statement never went higher than three or four people at a time, and while New Bodhum had been extremely populated and robust to him, the Bresha Ruins downright crowded… Academia had been dizzying. It had been daunting to realize the sheer number of people living in just one city, and just how easily the hearts of so many could be swayed by just the will of one.
It was Serah who explained to him, one night as they settled down in the Sunleth Waterscape some era in which Noel hadn't paid attention to, just how important each person was. Noel had known this, of course, down on an instinctual level having lived in a time where people were scarce and life was precious beyond all compare, because for him every life was a reason to go on. Yeul was the most precious and to be protected at all times (and Serah had been in tears laughing when he shared how he used to try to stand guard at her crib when he was three only to fall asleep next to her), but every single life was a light in an ever dimming world.
"I guess it's really different for you." She admitted to him that time, lying on her stomach with her chin propped on a palm and closer to the fire than he was. He remembered how the flames illuminated the highlights of her hair, braided for the night. Mog had already settled down to sleep, resting lightly against Serah's back. "I grew up with so many people that most of us didn't think we'd be really important at all. We all wanted to be important, but there's only so many names out there you can remember as someone who… changed things."
"Everyone's important." Noel argued back, still sitting near the fire with his legs crossed and his swords atop his lap, having agreed to take the first watch of the night.
"And I agree with you completely." She nodded sagely, shifting just slightly as to not disturb Mog. "But… I guess I didn't see it like you did when I was younger. The world was a big, scary place for me. Strangers could be dangerous. To me… to everyone, I think, most individuals weren't as important as you would make them out to be. Of course they were important, though! Everyone's lives impact each other's, and.."
She hummed in thought. "I'm not explaining this very well, am I? It's just — in a world of so many people, some are seen as more important than others. Someone important has a good idea, and thousands of people agree or start acting on that idea. Someone not famous has a good idea, and it probably never gets heard no matter how great of an idea it is because there's just so many other people it has to go through. A celebrity dies, and thousands of people mourn. A random bypasser on the street dies, and while it's a tragedy, only the people who really knew him would grieve. It doesn't make him any less important, but… when there's so many people, you'd have to make a difference in some other way. Like how I teach — in that way, I'm connected to those children, and they might learn my lessons and pass them on to the people they touch as well. That's how we're important. Not in our lives, but in how we influence and shape the world around us. We leave our mark through our actions."
Serah flushed at that point. "Of course, I never really expected to be one of those important people who's actually doing the changing. I never thought I'd be traveling through the timeline and fighting monsters and — I didn't think my sister would become the knight of a Goddess, you know? I guess the best I expected would be that my actions would eventually influence someone who might influence someone else who would be some great celebrity people listened to."
"Like Hope?" Noel asked, amused.
She laughed at that point, nearly dislodging Mog from her back entirely before she smiled gently. "I guess so. Yes. Like Hope. He really is someone a lot of people listen to, isn't he?"
Noel hadn't really understood it then, possibly still didn't now, but he knew that a lot of people's lessons and influence led to Hope, and in turn the scientist influenced and shaped the world around him. That was how leaders worked: like Yeul, the populace would follow him where he led them.
Somehow that bit stayed with Noel. The more he thought about it, the more he might understand it — Yeul was also one person many put their faith in, and in return she saw and shaped their futures. That reminder somehow made Noel just a bit more tense whenever someone came close to Hope; strangers especially. He chalked it up to his lessons on protecting Yeul. It was easier to face this new and unending world with what he had been taught — to protect someone, even if Hope didn't need that protection in the slightest bit.
If Snow ever noticed the moments of tension, he never mentioned it.
The doctor asked several more questions with a smile, voice low enough that Noel could barely make out the questions unless he strained to listen in. She reached with thinly gloved hands to touch the sides of Hope's face and the scientist responded with murmurs.
It wasn't long before the examination was finished, the entire process having only taken minutes. The doctor mentioned the two of them forward and told them, "Good news and not-so-bad news: Mr. Estheim's fine, there's nothing serious going on, he's not even contagious. Not-so-bad news: it's not just a cold, but it is still easily taken care of. My initial diagnosis is a sinus infection, although I'd like to do an endoscopy before I prescribe antibiotics." She turned her attention to Hope. "It's a good thing Mr. Villiers came to me — sinusitis can last weeks, up to months, without antibiotics, despite not being life threatening on its own. I'm sure you must be quite tired of the pain already."
Hope gave a strained smile.
She patted him on the knee reassuringly, and continued in Snow's direction. "I'll be back within an hour with my full kit — I must say, Mr. Villiers, Yuusnan palace would benefit greatly from a fully functional medical facility. Or several. You may want to take that into consideration. Until then and even after, I'd recommend plenty of fluids and bedrest for Mr. Estheim, and if the headache gets bad again — try breathing through a warm, wet towel. Steam might help you feel better, and even a hot towel on the forehead is better than nothing."
"That's it? Steam? That's what we were missing?" Noel asked, feeling flabberghasted.
"Of course not." The doctor stood, and picked up her bag. "You were missing me. Believe me, it's a good thing we caught this early still. Most people believe they've caught a prolonged cold for weeks, and if left on it's own too long there's a small chance it could cause complications such as meningitis, and that's something we never want."
She hoisted her bag over a shoulder, and then smiled down at Hope, who was looking a little pale. "But don't worry, Mr. Estheim. We'll have you feeling a hundred percent in no time."
.
.
"So that's it." Snow proclaimed as he dropped into one of the larger couches in the large room with a tired sigh, propping his feet up on the other end of the armrest. He covered his eyes with a hand and gave a soft groan as his back adjusted to the soft cushions underneath him. A second examination and a list of medicine later, he managed to wheedle a humidifier from one of the palace workers, creating a drastic difference in the room to the dry desert air from the past week. "That just about wraps things up, then."
The blond spread his fingers and opened one eye, darting a glance toward Noel. The hunter seemed to have settled himself just fine on the floor, one knee propped up as he leaned against the wall, looking just as tired as Snow felt. "Want me to show you to a room? Got plenty of space here."
"No, thanks." Noel responded, settling in further where he was sitting. "I'll be fine here."
Hope had fallen asleep hours ago, almost immediately after taking the medication and breathing easier with the steam vented in his direction. Thanks to the spaciousness of Yuusnan palace, the room Snow managed to appropriate was far larger than the entire apartment Hope had been staying at in the Dead Dunes. It meant that the feel of the room was entirely different, from the echoes of their own voices to the cooled moist air.
"You know, decent rest helps you not get sick." Snow retorted, going back to covering his eyes. "That's probably how Hope ended up like this in the first place."
"Doesn't look like you're going anywhere, either." Noel said, and then waited a long moment, allowing the silence to seep in and Snow's breath to even before asking, "What did you mean earlier? About it being a good thing."
"What being a good thing?" Snow slurred from where he was lying all across the couch.
Noel took a moment to think. "His… behavior."
"Who, Hope?" At that, Snow parted his fingers again to peek out. "Did I say — ? Ah. That's what you're talking about."
"So what did you mean?" Noel pressed, feeling that it was the perfect time to ask, now that everything had settled down.
Snow shifted, and then brought down his arm as he gave the matter some thought. "I had a friend… nah. More like family. Heard you met 'em — NORA. I had to leave them back in New Bodhum."
Noel breathed out carefully, wondering if his question hit a nerve. "I met them."
"Then you must have talked to Lebreau. She's… heh. She's a tough one. Keeps everyone in line. Hell, she kept me in line before I met Serah. Most stubborn kid I ever knew while growing up, and she ended up being a bartender. I never figured that from her, seeing as bartending means she ends up listening to other people's troubles and trying to help them. She was always better at, you know, yelling at people until they behaved. But that's what she wanted to do, and — she did it. People went to her for drinks and then because she was good at listening without judging. More patience for her customers than she ever had with the rest of NORA, that's for sure."
Snow linked his hands behind his head, feeling an old pang of guilt for the leaving that family he built for himself. Some things just had to be done, but it didn't make the pain any less sharp. He did a lot of things, left a lot of people he never imagined himself to leave, in order to live up to the image that Serah loved about him; the image that he built for himself to live by, to live up to. He was a hero, and that meant leaving personal luxuries like friends and family behind when called upon to help save the world. NORA understood. They always had, because each and every single one of them would have made the same choice if they had to.
"She gets the same attitude as Hope when she's sick, you know?" He huffed a laugh in remembrance. "There's a lot of names I could call it, but any of it would have made her throw things at my head. Gadot and I used to just find a way to be anywhere she wasn't whenever she got ill, because she was just so hard to deal with. What made it worse was how she was still nice to everyone else, you know? But to us…" He shook his head slightly. "It definitely felt unfair when we were kids."
"What changed?" Noel prompted.
Snow was silent for a long moment, staring up at the vaulted ceilings and wondering if he should be trying to avoid the sharp pain in his heart every time he thought of her. "I met Serah." And Serah had changed everything in his life. Everything had been brighter. He was a better person because of her. Even now, even after she was gone — "First time Lebreau got sick after that… we all warned her about how bad it could get. Tried to sneak her away, too, but Serah wouldn't have any of it. Said that families looked after each other when someone's sick. I was a bit of a fool for her back then —" Still am. "So i stayed with her. Got the verbal flaying of my life from Lebreau that time. Everything I did was wrong, where as Serah's actions were compared to angels.
"Of course, with Serah there, Lebreau got better in no time. I tried asking—" Snow laughed, a quick, sharp sound. "About that superpower of hers, how she could get mean Lebreau to be so nice to her even while sick."
"Maybe you could have tried being nicer." Noel offered up as an answer.
"Nah." Snow dismissed. "Tried that the first time when we were kids, and I got nowhere. But that wasn't the trick."
"There's no trick." Serah said with a giggle behind her hand. "I'm a bit disappointed, actually. She's so much nicer than Light. I thought you said Lebreau was mean when she's sick!"
"She is!" Snow whined at her, trying to look as pitiful as possible. "That's why I'm asking for your trick. How come she was yelling at me all the time but doesn't so much as complain when you're around?"
"I can't wait until she starts yelling at me." Serah said instead, surprising him. He was left floundering in that moment, wondering if the girl of his dreams was actually a secret masochist thanks to having Lightning as her sister. "I want her to feel comfortable enough to do that when she feels bad. People are only perfectly polite to strangers when they're ill. If yelling at someone when she's sick makes her feel even the slightest bit better, then being yelled at can't be so bad, can it?"
"She told me people are supposed to complain and whine when they're sick." Snow recalled, remember the exact tone of her voice, that lilting laughter and the smile as bright as Phoenix. "If they feel bad, if they're in pain, then keeping silent about it isn't going to help them feel any better."
"The best thing you can do." Serah said, both hands cupping the sides of his face and bringing his tall frame down to her so very easily with the lightest of touches and an upward curl of her lips. "Is be there for them to vent to. That's what families do, even if it's not a very fun job."
That was one of the lessons he learned from Serah — about patience, about loyalty, about love. True to form, even Team NORA had been closer after Serah's presence brightened up the day. Now, over five hundred years into the future, Snow had lost them all: all of NORA, and even Serah's breaths like the warmth of sunshine against his skin. Everything he learned about family, he learned from Serah. And now, Hope may be the closest thing to family he had left. Snow may not know much about the inner workings of a traditional family, but he learned enough from Serah and from his own fumblings with NORA to garner a clue.
He leaned his head back onto his linked fingers, remembering the stop he made in 400AF after finding out Hope (that little kid who used to stomp his feet when mad, who wasn't tall enough to reach Snow's chest, whose voice would crack and break when he was upset, and whom he once promised to look after) had also left everything he knew behind in order to pursue something greater than himself; than all of them.
He hadn't been very good at keeping his promise to look after Hope, but Snow tried his best nevertheless. Even if the kid wasn't really a kid anymore, and even if he didn't want Snow there.
At the very least, Hope wasn't a perfectly polite stranger when he was ill. That had to mean something. If Snow was lucky, it meant that they were still family after all. The same self-proclaimed family Vanille had once enthusiastically regaled about.
Families annoyed each other, argued with each other, would get mad and storm out, but would always end up together again no matter how bad it got. Snow hadn't been very good at keeping his promises because there were things out there more important than even family, and he had an obligation to do his best to protect the world, to protect the future. He left Serah not because he wanted to, but because he had to in order to even have a future with her.
Now, that future was gone.
"It's what families do." Snow echoed, crossing his arms under his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. "They may not always be there when you want them to be, but they'll be there when you need them to be."
That's what he learned from Serah — even from Lightning.
.
.
Unclenching the fist he had wrapped in the blanket, Hope finally closed his eyes and let himself drift into the first restful sleep since he set out for the Dead Dunes.
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A/N: Not exactly a masterpiece, but completed, yay! Not sure where Noel's little internal thing was going in this one, but it went. Somewhere. Let's hope Snow doesn't get sick next. Hope might not be as sympathetic. So I wanted to make their weaknesses lie in different areas: Noel's a bit oblivious to social norms, Hope's oblivious to people who care about him, and Snow's a big doofus who tries really hard but seems to fall short. Sorry if it was all just... long and exposition-y.