Notes: Classes started up again in addition to work, giving me only one full day off, so updates will be slower from here on out. I am trying to avoid going months like I did before, it really just depends on how stressed out I get this time around! Anyway, enjoy.

5. Lightning, Snow, Hope

"What the fuck?" Snow said.

Lightning stood, frozen, as Snow walked into the living room, taking in her and Hope's half-dressed forms and the alcohol on the coffee table. In an instant he was across the room, slamming Hope up against the wall, his fist connecting solidly with the younger man's face. Hope staggered to the side with a yelp, grasping his face.

"Snow!" Lightning shouted, grabbing his arm. "Stop it!"

Snow spun around to look at her. His eyes lit on her breasts and the small bruises on them, and he turned away, his face disgusted. Lightning went to Hope, who had slid down the wall to sit. She brushed his hair away from his face. His cheekbone was already starting to swell. Just as his other bruise was fading, Lightning found herself thinking. His green eyes met hers for a moment, and she couldn't quite read his expression. He pulled his head away from her hand, looking down. Without a word, he handed her the shirt she'd flung off the night before. She took it, standing and turning away from both him and Snow, and pulled it on.

"Don't be modest for our benefit," Snow said derisively.

Lightning turned back to him, folding her arms over her chest and lifting her chin, but there was nothing she could say, no high ground she could take, moral or otherwise. Hope needed taking care of, she knew, but there was nothing she could do while Snow was staring at her with something very close to hatred. It was an emotion seldom seen on his face.

"You got drunk with a kid and then fucked him," Snow said flatly.

"I guess so," Lightning answered, a thread of defiance in her voice for the sake of being defiant, if nothing else.

"Was it good?" he asked Hope, sneering. "It looks like you two had a good time."

Hope glared up at him through his hair. His eye was starting to swell shut. "Fuck off."

Snow ran both of his hands through his hair. "Jesus christ, Lightning. Is that your prerogative? Keep someone in your bed? Anyone? Or," he continued, raising his voice, "maybe that's why you won't be with me. Because you can't sleep around."

"Snow."

"Or maybe I'm too old for you? You need some high schooler to keep it interesting. Is what you did even legal? Of course letting him drink isn't, but - "

Hope made a angry sound behind her. "Punching a kid in the face isn't exactly legal either, so shut your fucking mouth," Lightning retorted.

"No," he hissed, stalking close to her. "You made him a man last night, didn't you? Did you like it, Light? I'm sure his awkward virginal in-expertise hit your sweet spot." He gestured to one of the hickeys that was visible on her chest, swelling above the shirt's low neckline. "Did you tell him to be rough with you? Did you tell him to treat you like a pain slut, just how you like it?"

Hope stood up. "Don't talk to her like that."

Snow gave a harsh laugh. "Or what?"

"Or nothing," Hope replied. "You have no right to talk to her that way."

"You're a fucking joke," Snow said.

"She's not yours," Hope retorted. "She's not your girlfriend, she's your fiancé's sister."

Snow's face purpled with rage. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Leave him out of this," Lightning said. "I'm the one you're angry at, Snow. So let's talk."

"What the fuck is there to talk about? I turn my back for two seconds - "

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't left!" she snarled at him. "You fucking ran away from me and my problems because you couldn't handle it. "

"I ran? Are you kidding me? I have been at your side for the last two years, as hellish as you've been determined to make them…"

"Fuck you," Lightning hissed. "You have no idea what I've been through. Nothing I did was ever on purpose."

"You never offered an explanation," he said, his voice suddenly soft. "And it still hurt me all the same."

Lightning fell silent. She stared up at his face, then looked away. Hope moved away from the wall and strode up the stairs, slamming the door to his bedroom. Shortly thereafter, she could hear the shower start running.

Snow sat couch, burying his face in his hands. Lightning dropped her arms and watched him uneasily. After a moment, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked his head up suddenly, and she recoiled. In a swift movement, he swept everything off of the coffee table's surface, and the bottle and glasses fell to the floor, shattering. Not content with that, he flipped the table itself, and it crashed against the TV stand. Lightning watched him mutely, hugging herself.

"Why, Light?" he asked, staring ahead.

"I don't know," she murmured.

"I told you I love you. Didn't you believe that?" Snow turned his head to look at her, his eyes searching her face.

"You left."

"I said I was coming back!" He screamed the last two words, so loud that is voice seemed to reverberate through the room.

"So did Serah."

That stopped him. He dropped his gaze, blonde hair curtaining his face. Lightning stood in front of him. She ran one of her hands through the length, and he turned his face into the caress. She took in the fall of his wheat blonde hair, the icy blue of his eyes, the honeyed tan of his skin; and the shape of his nose and lips, the cast of sorrow on his fair features.

Dammit. She wanted him. She did. She couldn't help it, couldn't help but feel her very essence calling for him, as if he was the errant half of her soul, even with the scent of another man on her skin. All she had to do was give in and become whole.

"What do I do?" Snow whispered.

"I don't know," Lightning said honestly.

Snow grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face. "I'm leaving again," he said abruptly. "And this time, I don't know if I'll be back."

"Don't," Lightning said. "Please, don't."

"Why not?"

"I need you."

Snow laughed, and it was a despairing sound. "You found someone else to tumble into your bed quickly enough, didn't you?"

"You think I just want to keep you around for sex?" she asked, incredulous. "Don't be an idiot. I could care less about that. The other night was the first time I've had sex in a long time. Years. Both of us know that."

"Maybe, and then you became a wreck after," he said. "Jesus, Lightning, why? Was I too rough? You asked…"

Lightning bid him to silence with a finger to his lips. "None of that is why," she said shortly.

Snow pushed her hand away. "Then why did you fuck Hope?"

"I didn't mean to!" she shouted at him, her anger flooding her in a red hot tide. "I was fucking upset because you left, and I didn't know if you were really going to come back or not, so I coped the only way I knew how. I didn't wake up that morning going, 'yeah, I'm gonna fuck seventeen year old, that's really gonna solve my problems.' I was really drunk and I did something really stupid and I'm really fucking sorry about it, and not just because you found out. And I undoubtedly fucked him up in the process."

"Fucked him up? He probably had a great time. He just fucked the hottest girl he will ever have sex with in his life time."

"Yeah, I'm sure he had a great time last night when he was drunk or drunker than I was. If he even remembers it. But some of the things you do at night look a lot uglier in the light of day."

The expression on Snow's face gave away that he didn't understand, so Lightning didn't bother to push it any further. "You wanna know why having sex with you turned out to be the worst decision I ever made? Because I betrayed the only family I have. You don't do that."

"She's dead. She's not coming back, she - "

"It doesn't matter if she's dead or not! You don't fuck your sister's fiancé, under any circumstances. Even if you guys mutually broke up, it wouldn't be acceptable."

"Yeah, I get that you're real fuckin' sentimental about this, Light, but I promise you, the dead don't care what the living do."

"How can you not feel any guilt?" Lightning asked. "You loved her."

"I did love her. I loved her more than anything." Snow reached out and grabbed the collar of Lightning's shirt, yanking her down to his level. Their faces were only inches apart. "And when you love someone that much, when they leave, it breaks something inside you. You know how I feel, Light. You know exactly how I feel."

She stared into his eyes. She did know.

"Remember what I said the other night?" he asked her. "That you don't try? I still stand by that. You're too busy atoning for something that wasn't even your fault. What happened to Serah was not your fault, but you still wanna beat yourself up about it, even years later. You're right, I don't know what you've been through. I don't know what you did or saw on Pulse. I wish you would open up and tell me, because I would gladly share that burden with you, because I love you. I won't pretend to know what happened. But I do know that Serah dying is not your fault. And whatever's between us isn't wrong, Light."

Lightning looked at him like she was drowning. "I want to believe you," she said.

"What's stopping you?" Snow loosened his grip in her shirt. She sat back on her heels, looking down and away from him. He saw yet another bruise on the side of neck, and fought the urge to murder someone (Hope). It was a marvel that they were even having a semi-calm conversation on the heels of what he'd seen this morning.

I should leave. I should pack my shit and go and never look back.

But he couldn't because he did love her.

"Because there's still that slim chance that she's alive, Snow," she whispered.

"We've already had sex."

"Having sex is one thing." She turned her face back to his. She reached out and brushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes. "Falling in love is another."

He drew in a sharp breath. "Do you love me?" he questioned her.

Lightning watched his face. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm worried that I will." She gave a self-deprecating laugh and shook her head. "Snow, why? Why couldn't we continue the way we were?"

"Because I've never been good at lying about how I feel," he murmured. "And it's the next logical step, isn't it? After those months of being in your bed…it's hard. It's hard to pretend that I just want to platonically cuddle while we sleep."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Now what, though? You're going to leave again."

"I'll stay if you give me a reason to, Light."

She looked at him. "What?"

"Love me," he replied. "Or try."

He held his breath as Lightning studied his face thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "You'll stay if I try."

"Yes," Snow answered, exhaling. "I'll stay as long as you try. And…" He glanced towards the ceiling. "He needs to go, Lightning."

Her face hardened. "I'm not kicking him out."

"Lightning - "

"No," she insisted. "I can't. He starts school in a few days, I'm not putting him on the street."

"You don't have to put him on the street. You can report him to the authorities. They'll put him up somewhere. He's not our responsibility."

"Don't ask this of me, Snow," she whispered. "I can't abandon him."

His throat felt impossibly tight. "But you'll ask me to feed and shelter him even though you had sex with him. Are you serious?"

Lightning opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. "I don't ask you lightly," she finally said.

"You ask me all the same. God dammit, Light." Snow stood up abruptly and walked across the living room, stepping carefully over the broken glass, and going to look out of the sliding glass door over the deck. "This is insane." Another summer storm was about to roll through, thunder growling in the distance as the sky flickered with lightning. A light drizzle dotted the wooden boards of the deck. He rested an arm on the glass and pressed his forehead against it.

If Hope wasn't here, this shit wouldn't have happened. We'd be able to be together, or at least fuckin' try.

He felt Lightning at his back.. Her fingers curled in his t-shirt. And he was suddenly angry again. He whirled around and grabbed her shoulders, holding her away from him. "Really?" he snarled. "You wanna touch me when you still smell like another guy?"

Lightning stared up at him with that defiant spark in her eyes, but that wasn't what he noticed. He noticed how her lips parted slightly as his fingers dug into her skin, could see her pulse jumping in her throat. It both horrified and compelled him.

"God," he whispered. "Why? Why do you like this?"

"We are shaped by our experiences," she said quietly. "Aren't we?"

Snow moved a hand under her shirt then, fingertips brushing over the rough scars on her back. She made a small sound under his touch. He pulled her against him then, knotting a hand in her hair and yanking her head up roughly. He kissed her, bruising, and she yielded to him, lips parting under his, tongues brushing, and he loved it. He loved that he could do anything to her and she would take it. In that moment, he didn't care that she tasted like stale alcohol, or that she had hickeys on her breasts that weren't from him.

He shoved her up against the wall and kissed her again, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, his other hand sliding down her vulnerable skin of her throat. Her breath hitched, and he moved his hand down to the collar of her shirt. He used both hands and tore it open, then moved to pin her arms again. Her breasts rose and fell as her breathing quickened, and Snow had to close his eyes for a moment. He sought to find himself, to bring himself back from the brink. She just had sex with someone else. It probably wasn't even twelve hours ago. His come is probably still inside her.

That did it.

Snow opened his eyes again and stared down at her. She was watching him, still held in place, but offering no resistance. He released her as suddenly as he had grabbed her. He was suddenly disgusted, turning away. I was really gonna fuck her and she was going to let me. God in heaven. "Clean yourself up," he mumbled. "I have to go to work. And before you freak out, I will be back."

Lightning looked like she was going to vomit herself. "Sure," she said presently. "Have a good day."

What would you think of me now, mom?

Hope pressed his face into his knees as he wrapped his arms around them, squeezing his eyes shut. The pressure turned the darkness behind his lids into a riot of colors and stars, to wormholes he sped through at warp speeds. His fingers dug into his arms and his head throbbed and his stomach roiled.

Perhaps that was one of the things that bothered him the most, how disappointed his mother would be in him. At the same time, he was grossed out at the fact he was even thinking of his mom and the fact that he'd had sex for the first time at the same time. Or maybe that was normal, but it didn't seem normal. Nothing that had happened this summer had been normal. It didn't matter, because his mom was too dead to care what her only son did with his life anymore.

In spite of being drunk, he remembered everything about last night with painstaking clarity; how could he not? He remembered how he thought he was going to come just from her touch alone, remembered begging her to stop before he did just that. He recalled how he couldn't keep his mouth off of her, especially once her bra came off, how good it all felt. And the actual sex…he groaned aloud at the memory.

At the sound of faint tapping on the bedroom door, Hope lifted his head. Even that sound sent shockwaves of pain resounding through his head, bile rising in his throat. He made a small acquiescing sound and Lightning walked with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. She was freshly showered and clothed, the shirt she wore hiding most of his handiwork, and her hair hiding the rest.

She set the articles down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the futon, studying him. "Holding up alright?" she asked.

"Sure," Hope said. "Real great."

"I'm really sorry, Hope," she told him. "I never meant for any of this to happen. It was incredibly stupid and reckless of me. You should've never had to deal with this shit."

Hope folded his arms atop his knees, then rested his chin on them. "I wish I could go home."

Lightning watched his face. "If you want to leave, you can," she said at length. "Or if there's something you want me to do, someone you want me to call…I'll do it."

"Leave and go where?" He laughed bitterly. "I have nothing. Might as well fuckin' stay." He shifted his gaze to her. "Besides, what would happen to you?"

"If your concern for my well being is the only thing keeping you here, you might as well go," Lightning told him dryly. "This is basically my life."

"I like you, Lightning. Of course I'm gonna worry about you, I just…this is too much. It's all too much." He hid his face in his arms, digging his fingers into his arms. "I am just a dumb kid."

"You aren't dumb," Lightning said. "But you're right, it's too much." She got off the futon. "If you need anything, let me know."

"Wait."

She looked at him over her shoulder.

He took a deep breath. "Last night…do you...?"

She turned around and came back to him. "Move over," she said. He obliged in silence and she sat beside him on the futon. "You aren't okay, are you?"

Hope turned his face away, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He resisted at first, then finally allowed himself to be drawn into her embrace, his head tucked under her chin. "I never wanted this," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"I know, Hope," she said, smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. "Me either."