Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XIII is the property of Square Enix. No profit is being made from the circulation of this story.

Warning: I debated whether or not to discuss it ahead of time, and ultimately decided it wasn't fair unless I mentioned it. There is a major side pairing in this chapter, as well as adult situations involving said pairing. You are hereby warned.

Note: Thanks once again to Ms. Pacman, for helping me develop the plot!

Someone Must Get Hurt

Chapter 4

Serah glanced at the pink sky and scowled. She had been wandering in a rage for hours, she supposed, and the sun had disappeared behind the horizon but she didn't want to go home. Her husband and her sister had both betrayed her. They both still thought of her as some little girl who didn't take anything seriously. She hadn't stayed to hear them ridicule her life or her friends anymore, but most of all she hadn't stayed to hear all the things she had felt thrown in her face as if she didn't understand what was going on. It had all bothered her, becoming a housewife, a socialite, a trophy wife. She had accepted it though.

What else was there?

She ran a hand through her hair and tugged at the tips in exasperation. There was no answer to her question and there hadn't been for the last eight years. Her biggest accomplishment, fulfilling her l'Cie Focus, had already played out and she had nothing to look forward to day to day, month to month, and year to year. They didn't understand. Lightning, Hope, Sazh, they had all moved on with their lives. She had even thought Snow had moved on, with her—at first. In the early days of their marriage it was rather apparent that he was looking forward to the future. Serah was so angry. Her future, the baby she longed for, it was a possibility that brought her no happiness, no real hope.

They didn't understand at all. Zoey's wedding was a distraction. It all was, and that was how she justified living her life. She didn't want them to be right, but there wasn't much to deny it. There was something though. As long as their group of friends, their neighbors, the people she saw at the supermarket, their social circle looked at her that way, her life was justified. It cost money not only to live a certain way, but to look a certain way, and that was what had come to mean anything to her.

The way Snow and Lightning had looked at her let her know that that idea was too foreign to them. It would never be an acceptable reason, "simply" wanting to keep up appearances.

Serah had wandered into the downtown area of Bodhum before she looked around again. There were several hotels on either side of the block, their neon signs casting glowing light into the street. She wrapped her arms more tightly around her stomach and let out a sigh, picking out a hotel with a bar and letting herself in out of the night air. The doorman greeted her with a kind hello and a smile. She had thankfully thought to grab her purse, though she forgot to take her keys back from Lightning. It was really no matter though, as long as she had her credit card she could get a cab home.

He hotel bar was dimly lit and decorated with dark wood and gold accents. The bar stools had red, velvety cushions. Overall, it was normally too tacky for her to frequent, but she was looking for a bit of liquid nerves, not somewhere to take the girls on Friday nights. Serah slid onto the squishy chair and leaned forward on her elbows stiffly. Her feet reminded her that she had been on them most of the day with a sudden soreness and she sighed.

"Evening, Miss, what can I get you?" the bartender asked. He was the classic imaged of a bartender, a white shirt, black vest, apron, a towel draped over his arm. He was handsome and clean shaven, different from Snow and his perpetual stubble.

"Um," Serah said nonsensically. She pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands, frowning at her nails. The nail polish on the ring finger of her left hand was chipping. "I'd like a gimlet."

"Coming right up," he said, giving her a smile. He turned to grab a few bottles and a cocktail shaker.

She finished her first and second drinks fairly quickly. The fuzzy feeling in her head was rather intense and she realized she hadn't had anything to eat in quite a few hours. The bowl of pretzels on the bar in front of her was tempting. As the bottom of her second martini glass began to show, she stuffed a few twisted pieces of salty dough into her mouth. They weren't the most delicious thing she had ever tasted and were particularly unsuited to go with her drink.

"Excuse me, is there any way I could order something to eat?" Serah asked as the bartender approached, probably intending to ask if she would like another drink.

"The kitchen is still open for another 30 minutes," he said, checking his watch. He reached under the bar and pulled out a small menu in a black leather case. She took it and scanned it quickly.

"Calamari sounds delicious," she decided.

"I'll put that right in for you," he said. "Would you like me to refresh your drink again, Miss?"

"Not quite yet, but I'll let you know," Serah said.

She was already too relaxed and decided to slow down. It was one thing to build up her confidence with delicious gimlets and another to fall flat on her face because of all the alcohol coursing through her system. She ran her fingernails through the condensation on the outside of her drink, leaving circular trails in the moisture.

It really wouldn't be so bad to be free of this lifestyle.

By the time her food arrived, she was quite hungry and glad to see it. Popping a fried piece of squid into her mouth, she could feel it water around the morsel.

Snow didn't much like seafood, now that she thought about it. It had been a while since they had eaten fish or anything of the sort. He was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Serah had adjusted so many of her tastes to suit his needs. It had been easier than holding onto things that didn't fit into their little dream life.

As she was finishing her food, she caught sight of a man approaching the bar. Their eyes met and she quickly glanced down at the polished wood in front of her, trying not to make eye contact again. It was in vain. He came right up to her, his posture easy and inviting.

"Hello," he said, flashing a devilish smile at her. He had leaned in beside her bar stool, handsome with a youthful, bright look leering at her, full of confidence. He wore a suit and a skinny, black tie and his short hair was slick back neatly. He was the type who came out to a bar after leaving his office job, young but moving up in the world with all the quickness of a rabbit with its tail on fire. And he wanted her attention. He would have been her type, before Snow.

"Hello," Serah said back.

"Would you let me buy you a drink?" he asked. "Another gimlet?"

"Yes, thank you," she said. "I'm Serah."

"Keith," he said. His smile never disappeared and it was beginning to make her feel a bit uncomfortable. "I haven't seen you here before, Serah."

"It's my first time here," she said. "This isn't really my type of place."

As he waved the bartender down, he sat on the bar stool beside her. "That's too bad. A girl like you brightens up a whole room. This drab place could certainly use the sunshine you carry around with you. Sir, another gimlet for the lady, on my tab."

The line was corny but pleasant to hear. After her day, any positive attention was nice, even if it was inappropriate for her to accept as a married woman. She just wanted that care-free, fun flirtation, not the complicated affairs of her marriage to Snow. She didn't want to be Mrs. Villiers in that moment but Miss Farron, a flirty young girl with dreams and ambition, with freedom. She sipped the end of her drink.

"I hope you don't take offense, but I saw you come in about an hour ago," Keith said to her. He was certainly laying on the charm with the way his voice dripped with flattery. She knew another compliment was on its way. "I was working up the courage to come talk to such a beautiful woman."

"Are you a professional charmer, Keith?" Serah asked, tilting her head slightly and letting her curled hair bob, catching the soft light. She wasn't unaware of the things that made her appeal to men's eyes. She made a show of gracefully bending her wrist to run a finger across the edge of the cocktail glass in front of her.

"Not quite," he said, his eyes directly on what she wanted them to be on. "I'm a lawyer. Charming pretty women is just a very pleasant hazard of the skills I have acquired in that line of work. Enough about me though. Tell me, Serah, what brings you here tonight?"

Oh, he was good.

Serah looked down as the bartender took her glass from her and replaced it with a full one. The cloudy white drink held her gaze as she thought once more about her reasons for being here. Before meeting Snow, she had been to similar places, nightclubs that had plenty of carbon copies of this Keith, a lawyer, probably a mediocre one who just used it as a good way to impress girls. Snow didn't like to take her to bars like this. They weren't his scene; he was no Keith. Lightning had disapprovingly told her they were too seedy. It was nice to do something that they didn't agree with. It made her feel as though she had some control on her life again instead of being a spectator along for the ride.

"I just needed a little break," Serah said finally, smiling at him. "Sometimes you just have one of those days where nothing seems right." She took a rather large sip of her drink and set it back down again. "You just need to step back from it and let the day end."

"I know what you mean," he said. "And I think I have a good way to end your day, Serah."

She stiffened as his hand slid across her back and she realized that her flirtation wasn't as innocent as she meant for it to be. Snow had been the only man to touch her like that in eight years, and before then, most of the men she ran into didn't get that close. The thought occurred to her that it wasn't exactly unwanted. He had surprised her with his forwardness, but it didn't upset her. It didn't quite thrill her, but the possibility of thrill was definitely there. Serah took another drink.

Lightning poured the wine into the glass and watched it cast red beams of light onto Serah's dining table. Hope was peeling the label off of his second bottle of beer, his eyes trained on the door. It was after ten o'clock. Neither Serah nor Snow had returned. They didn't quite expect them, but they both hoped they would be surprised by them coming home, together. Lightning regretted that she had let Snow go search for her by himself, but she she really didn't know where to start. Drinking with Hope had been a bad alternative though. Her world was starting to spin after nearly a full bottle of red wine.

"I shouldn't have said anything to her when she was like that," Lightning mumbled. "I should've been a better a better sister, you know? But I always say the wrong thing to Serah."

She remembered when she found out her sister was a l'Cie and all the wrong things she had said then too. Her strengths did not lie in comforting Serah with words. It was something she had to remember for the future.

"It'll be okay," Hope said.

Lightning sighed, dejected. "Will it? Serah is so fragile."

"No, you're wrong about that," Hope said. "She's just the same as you and me, there are things that hurt her, and this is one of them, but once she sees you and Snow aren't trying to say these things to be mean to her, she'll be okay. You'll see."

Her head had come to rest on her arms and she didn't remember that happening. She turned to look at him without lifting it though. "Do you think so? I don't know if that's enough, we were cruel to her. I thought maybe she would be happy after what she said to me the other day...I just don't get why she's against Snow being happy."

"That's not what bothers her," Hope said. He stood, setting his bottle down next to her glass of wine and moving to the chair beside her. His proximity would have bothered her had she been sober but the fuzzy warm feeling in her arms made it impossible for anything to bother her, aside from her sister's problems. Hope leaned down on his arms as well, their eyes on the same level.

"I don't understand their life," Lightning confessed. "I thought when they got married everything was perfect. Snow did exactly what he promised to, he took care of her and made sure she had everything she wanted."

"It's never that simple," Hope said. "My dad tried to do the same for me, but usually the things you want are the things someone can't just give to you. They're things you work for yourself."

Lightning regarded him for a moment. He really had grown and not just taller. His ability to put into words what she was trying to wrap her brain around was extremely keen.

"I guess that's true," she said quietly. "I guess...I wouldn't understand that because I've never really wanted much, not for myself."

"You wanted to save Cocoon," Hope pointed out.

He was right. After she had realized the bigger picture at stake in their l'Cie Focus, she had wanted to save Cocoon. It had made her happy to work toward that goal and it still brought out that grateful feeling that she had gotten what she wanted.

"Yeah, and I did," Lightning said. "It happened just like I wanted. Well. Not like I wanted exactly. Fang and Vanille...but I got what I wanted, and I'm still alone."

"You're not alone!" Hope said, sitting up in surprise. Lightning was also caught off guard, lifting her head from her arms. "I mean, what I wanted to say was...I'd never let you be alone. Not if I could help it. I...Light, you've always been there for me."

"That's sweet, Hope," Lightning said. She patted his arm.

"I don't mean it to be just sweet, Light, it's how I feel," he said, his tone taking a slight turn toward frustrated. "Whenever I think that there's no one who could understand me, when I just feel terrible, I think of you. You've been there for me when my mother died, when my father remarried, when I wanted to join Guardian Corps instead of go to school. Sometimes you don't understand how I feel, but you're there for me. So I'm there for you, when you need me to be, and even when you don't."

Lightning pressed her lips together. It was nice to hear someone care so profoundly for her and she thought perhaps she hadn't given Hope his fair chance. She had been so caught up with Snow, her supposed love for him, that perhaps that had been the reason, all along, that her life had shaped up this way. Perhaps, Hope deserved a chance to take her problems away.

He was an honorable young man. Not only was he interested, but he clearly worshiped her. Every now and then, she did get a little bit lonely, and it was deeper than simply longing for her sister's husband, deeper than having a need for sex. It was a craving for intimacy, the thing that she truly lacked.

Or so she had thought. The way Hope lovingly described their relationship, as unromantic as she had tried to keep it, gave a glimmer of what she wanted, especially in that moment. She had always wanted to be close to Serah, to have a relationship with her that fulfilled her longing for human contact. Instead, it was fraught with all Serah's disappointments that she couldn't tell anyone else and Lightning's desperation to keep her shameful feelings a secret.

"Light..." Hope said softly. He did have a way of saying her name that tried to convince her to give in, and she wanted to.

"Yes, Hope?" she said.

"I...I know it's not exactly the right time, but I couldn't think of when to tell you," he said. "When I was visiting my dad...he told me that Martha is pregnant."

The words weren't what she had expected, but she didn't let that show. She knew immediately that this information had jarred him and he had been waiting for a chance to tell her, to get that comfort from her that he had just spoken of. To Hope, Serah and Snow's problems were beyond their help, and it reminded Lightning that though she offended her sister, the real issues plaguing her were not anything she should have to fix. This, however, was something she could help Hope with. He was the one asking desperately to connect with her. Serah and Snow had each other.

"Hope, your father is happy," Lightning began. "He has a right to want to be happy. He still loves you, and I'm sure he still has a place in his heart for your mother."

"It's just so weird," Hope said. "I know those things, but sometimes it's hard to remember it because it feels like I'm not a part of my own life anymore."

"I know that feeling," Lightning agreed. She reached out and put a hand on his elbow, slowly sliding it the length of his arm to his and, clasping her fingers around his. She was treading on dangerous ground. It was heady, letting go of her control, and it wasn't just the wine.

"Light, I-"

She stopped him, raising a finger to her lips and blowing out air to form a, "Shhh."

Tentatively, she leaned forward and sat up a little straighter to bring their lips together. Hope tensed, as though he was certain this wasn't happening. Lightning caressed his lips with her own, her hand coming up to cup his chin and tilt his head for better access. After a moment, it occurred to her that he hadn't moved. She pulled away, her brow furrowing.

"Light, you've had too much to drink," Hope said softly.

It made her angry to hear him blame it on alcohol. She was perfectly capable of holding her liquor. Letting go of her control had nothing—well, little—to do with her wine consumption. She grasped his chin more firmly and kissed him again, more forcefully. This time, his arms flew up to grasp her shoulders and he couldn't help but hold on for the ride. Lightning wasn't one to be subtle.

"Hope, you can take it or leave it, but tonight, yes," she said when she pulled away again. "Tonight, this is what I'm saying."

He blinked at her as she stood, keeping their eyes locked.

"Red wine can't make me do anything I don't already want to do," she told him and herself. She didn't tell him all the things that could that didn't start with love.

"Okay," Hope said, finding his voice. It was soft and it caught in his throat. He swallowed. "Yeah, okay, Light."

They found her bedroom in a whirl of lips and hands and skin. She hit the edge of the nightstand and swore under her breath at the sharp jab to her hip, but when Hope stopped kissing her to apologize, Lighting liked that even less. She pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. He tried to say something but she distracted him by starting in on his pants.

If red wine didn't make her do anything she didn't want to, it did impede her motor skills. She fell onto the bed, coming eye-level with the buttons on his pants and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"No, you're not getting that lucky, Hope," she said, unable to stop herself from chuckling. It might have sounded something like a giggle, but she assured herself that it wasn't.

"I wasn't thinking-"

Lightning cut him off with a grin of triumph as she yanked his pants down his legs and left him to step out of them himself. She was standing again, kissing him in a flash. Hope seemed to tense up again and she frowned in annoyance.

"Light," he said, gripping her arms and using her momentarily pause to step back. He stumbled a bit, his pants still tangled at his ankles, but didn't fall. "Slow down."

She regarded him through hooded eyes, beginning to feel the cloud of frantic emotions in her mind dissipating. What was she doing? Was she really treating him, Hope, with such carelessness?

"I'm sorry, you're right," she said. "You don't deserve for this to be crazy. I think I got carried away after you blamed the wine."

Hope finally smiled again, the first time since she had begun to kiss him. "Let's just slow down."

Lightning nodded.

Hope's throat was incredibly dry. He blinked a few times as the stark room came into focus and he smiled to himself. Lightning lay beside him, curled about her pillow. It would have been nice if she had wanted to curl around him, but he supposed it would have been too much to expect that she would be the cuddly type. He swung his feet from the bed slowly, trying not to wake her. He found his clothes and slipped into them, not sure if Snow or Serah had returned yet. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in their house naked.

As he slid out of the room, he closed the door behind him quietly, careful not to let it bang, and padded down the hall to the kitchen. The moonlight shone through the windows, casting blue shadows through the house. He passed the dinning room and caught sight of his beer bottle and Lightning's wine, stopping to pick them up to take them to the kitchen sink.

A sudden buzzing caught his attention and he frowned, listening. It was coming from under the table, and so was a small blinking light. Hope knelt and recovered Lightning's ringing phone. The slender device was vibrating demandingly and he flipped it open without much thought, raising it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" came the rough, soft voice on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, hi," Hope said. "If you're calling for Light, I mean, you have to be, this is her phone but—she's not available right now."

"Hope, is that you?"

He recognized Serah's voice this time. She sounded terrified. He immediately crawled from beneath the table and stood.

"Yeah, it's me, Serah," he told her. "Are you alright?"

"I...I'm okay," she said, but he didn't believe her. "Listen, can you come get me?"

"Of course," Hope said. It didn't occur to him to say no. "Where are you?"

"I'm downtown, at the Hotel Bodhum Beach. Lightning had my car keys..."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be there soon. You're sure you're okay? Did you try to call Snow?" he asked.

"I'm sure, and no," she said, her voice gaining firmness. "Light isn't with you either, Hope?"

"No, she, uh, fell asleep," Hope told her. "Do you want me to wake her up? I can if you want me to..."

"No!" Serah said. "No, since she's sleeping, please don't. Just take my car, come get me. Please Hope. I appreciate it."

"I'll be right there, Serah," he said. Hope couldn't place what made him so uneasy. He heard the click of the line disconnecting and he closed the phone, slipping it into his pocket as he headed for the door.

To Be Continued.