Eden
Fang woke up the next morning with a crick in her neck and a sore shoulder from having slept on the floorboards. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, before frowning down at the light blanket that had been draped over her. She'd be damned if she could remember where the thing had actually come from, only that it was there. Fang clapped a weary palm over her aching eyes as the morning light rudely continued to stream in through the old classroom's windows. While it felt like she'd slept better than she had in the whole week prior, she still felt like she'd been trampled by a herd of angry Pulsian chocobos.
Her mind slowly began to grind into action as she propped herself up on her elbows, and her lips twitched into a smirk as she thought of the prior night's activities. This time yesterday, she wouldn't have dreamed their little chat would have ended positively, let alone waking up naked and feeling more satisfied than she'd been in weeks.
Fang tilted her head back, loathe to linger on the past right now, because the feeling in her stomach was so warm and fuzzy and content. There was, however, a decided lack of Lightning from the picture. The blankets beside Fang were empty and with a creeping coldness that she was helpless to stop, she had to wonder if Lightning had high-tailed it out of there while Fang had been sleeping. Was Lightning really reconsidering her actions of the night before? That was a bloody record, then.
The blankets were still warm though, and still smelled of Lightning. Fang let her eyes drift closed for a moment as she let herself get lost in it, until she heard the water splash outside the old schoolroom. Wrapping the blankets about herself to ward off the morning chill, Fang lurched to her feet and certainly didn't creep toward the door and staircase as she went to investigate.
A smile flickered across Fang's face as she leaned out the doorway and glanced down the stairs. Well, it looked as though she'd found Lightning. Fang leaned against the door frame with a loud thump to announce her presence, and she watched Lightning pause in her motions. It was nothing she hadn't seen before – seen, touched or tasted, Fang amended silently with a wicked smile – but the sight was even more incredible in the morning light. Fang's eyes tracked the small marks left down the side of Lightning's jaw and neck, wondering for a moment if they would show above that high-necked sweater of hers.
Fang's eyes tracked downward, inevitably falling on the l'Cie mark marring Lightning's skin. It stood out like a tattoo that did not belong, and the very sight it made Fang's chest tighten in growing panic.
"I'm surprised to see you up this early," Lightning said, and the sound of her voice – so normal and level – did wonders to snap Fang out of her growing fear.
"Ha. Perhaps miracles really do happen, after all," Fang replied with a drawl, crossing her arms over her chest and watching Lightning submerge herself fully under the water for a moment. "Bodes well for you lot. I suppose I had a little incentive, when I couldn't find you."
Lightning didn't respond as she shook the water out of her eyes, but the silence wasn't cold or uncomfortable, not like it had been for so much of the week gone by. Even so, Fang couldn't let it rest, not when that mark was still so vivid against Lightning's skin.
"Washing away all the evidence, huh?" Fang slowly descended a few steps, feeling a tenseness in her stomach loosen as Lightning turned and simply raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe I am." Lightning didn't seem bothered by Fang's half-arsed accusation though, and Fang would have been fine with simply turning around and napping for another half hour, but something still stood out in her mind, something that Lightning had said – that time was running out and that she wanted to make the most of the time left.
"Mind if I join you, then?" Fang asked quietly, yawning once for good measure and running her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair.
"Go ahead."
Fang didn't need to be told twice, and she left the warm blankets in a pile on the staircase. Trying to ignore the chill of the morning air on her bare skin, Fang stepped into the water and fought not to cringe. It felt like ice, and Fang was not a big fan of the whole freezing-cold-baths insanity that possessed some people. Loath to admit that to Lightning – soft, Cocoon-coddled Lightning – Fang waded out toward the other woman, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and glaring balefully at the back of Lightning's head.
"How the hell can you stand this?" Fang finally forced out from between her clenched teeth, her pride be damned.
Lightning didn't even do Fang the favour of looking around. "I like to think of it as 'refreshing'."
Fang's eyes narrowed further as she continued to wade toward the other woman. Lightning was doing it on purpose, wasn't she?
"Only someone from Cocoon would get so into the technicalities. What is your skin made of? Iron? Is that what Cocoon's fal'Cie is doing these days?" Fang snorted loudly, resting her cheek on Lightning's wet and cold shoulder and resting her hand on the curve of Lightning's hip. Etro, but her skin was only slightly better than the ice bath around her!
"You didn't seem to be complaining last night," Lightning said, turning around and catching Fang's lips in a soft kiss. Fang let herself melt a little into the sensation of Lightning's warm mouth and body, lazily enjoying the way Lightning's arms wrapped around her neck and trailed down to each of her shoulders. Fang felt Lightning's tongue move against her lower lip, just for an instant, and then –
Lightning's grip turned to steel around Fang's shoulders, and it all happened in a tangle of limbs and the sound of crashing water as Fang was knocked off balance and back into the freezing water. Fang surfaced with an outraged gasp, flinging her wet hair out of her eyes and damn lucky not to have choked on half a litre of water from her shock.
"Oh no you didn't," Fang ground out, bristling at the joke and shivering from the cold as she watched Lightning wade over to her. Fang had half a mind to launch herself at the other woman and really show her who was boss – then Fang paused. Lightning was smiling at her, laughing, and the expression was open and honest. The frustrated and angry words on Fang's lips died out, and Fang felt an answering smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
Instead of lashing out and wasting time being angry, Fang closed the small distance between them and wrapped her arms around Lightning, pressing her back until she felt the partially submerged wooden wall hit Lightning's back. Fang pressed her lips against Lightning's, letting her kiss be soft and teasing at first as she let her hands trail down the length of Lightning's spine. She felt Lightning shiver at the touch, heard her breath catch slightly and felt her fingers wrap more firmly in Fang's tangled hair.
Fang ran a lazy hand down the back and inside of Lightning's thigh, suddenly feeling very warm despite her dunk in the freezing water and the feeling that her teeth were about to start chattering.
"You want to go again?" Lightning asked softly, her lips moving against the corner of Fang's jaw in a way that made it hard to focus on the task at hand.
"You mentioned that you didn't want to waste time." Fang drew back a little, her eyes flickering down to the l'Cie mark on Lightning's chest. She brushed her fingers over it even as the hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end. Sprawling, veined and a red eye could flicker open in the space between between one breath and the next. It was hot to the touch and raised like a new scab. Fang felt her panic and despair surge to the forefront of her mind, and she swallowed hard.
"So it's that bad." Lightning's breath was a little unsteady even if her voice was suspiciously even. Come to think of it, she had been strangely calm this whole morning, and now Fang supposed she knew why. "Tell me. How do you know?"
Fang felt Lightning shiver as she let her thumb brush over the l'Cie mark again, and Fang let out a short and bitter laugh. How much longer? Etro only knew sometimes.
"I'm no expert-" Fang paused, her fingers still tracing the raised outline of the mark. No expert for sure, because her memories were sometimes vivid and sometimes slipped away. Even so, she and Vanille were the closest the others had. "There are thirteen stages. All pretty separate, and they... mark the spread. This... this is twelfth stage, like what I've seen of Sazh's, Snow's and Hope's. Vanille is a little different, because she's been doing all she can to slow the progression. And mine... like I said. It's a bit of a screwball of a situation for me."
Fang watched Lightning digest that information, and then drew a long and hypothetically calming breath. She hated to ruin the pleasantness of the situation, she really did, but seeing the mark and knowing its implications only brought it further home that she had to do something about Orphan.
"You know that Ragnarok is the best way to tackle the issue, Light," Fang said, letting her forehead thump against the weathered old boards over Lightning's shoulder. She felt Lightning tense a little, hating that it happened but she knew that some sort of resolution had to be reached between them! She couldn't go on in this state of limbo any longer, and she couldn't live with the fear that she'd lose them.
"We don't know that at all, Fang," Lightning told Fang, her voice a little sharp but she wasn't pulling away. Fang's mood soured regardless, and she untangled herself from Lightning's arms.
"What's your plan, then?" Fang demanded, meeting Lightning's eyes forcefully and letting it be an open challenge. Things hadn't changed. Things never changed. Lightning looked away first, and she tilted her head to stare up at Cocoon. Did she feel the mounting pressure like Fang did?
"I know you think it's hopeless, but..." Lightning smiled slightly, looking back down and returning Fang's gaze squarely. "Give me a bit longer. A few hours. Just long enough to be sure there's no other way..."
"How much surer do you even need to be?" Fang asked, entirely unconvinced by Lightning's determination to cut it right down to the wire. She didn't like this, and it felt like it was hanging over her.
"I'd say I'd rather die than take out Cocoon, but I doubt that's the answer you're looking for." Lightning pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes, sighing as her head thumped back against the boards behind her. "The last moment, then. Hold off until there is nothing else we can do, nothing left that will save us. And only then."
"You'd let me save you? You'd let me do what I have to do?" Fang pressed, moving closer. It felt like a victory of sorts.
"Eden." Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose, looking stressed and wearied by the conversation already. "I don't want to say yes, and you know that."
"And you know that I'm serious."
"I wish you weren't." Lightning didn't smile, and finally relented, even if she looked unhappy about having to make their bargain explicit. "Fine. But our agreement holds, Fang. You don't make a move until I say so. Is that clear?"
It was a poorer bargain Fang wanted, because the sight of Lightning's brand felt like it was burned into her mind's eye. Then there was Vanille, who couldn't fight fate forever, and Snow, Sazh and Hope... Fang didn't want to agree, she wanted to argue and keep arguing for something better, because what if she lost them? Lightning seemed so blastedly confident though, and Fang felt herself relent.
"Deal." Fang hated herself for making the compromise, but she knew that their agreement had to stand. Lightning smiled, looking a little relieved that, and all Fang hoped was that she wouldn't live to regret this bargain. With a sigh, she climbed out of the water and began to dry herself off.
Not long after their reluctant agreement, Fang and Lightning began to make their way back to where the others had camped. Fang kept easy pace at Lightning's side, shooting the occasional sideways glance at Lightning's profile as she wondered what sort of crackpot excuse they'd feed the others this time. Then again, Lightning looked far more at ease with herself than she had following their night on the Archylte Steppe, so maybe Lightning didn't intend on hiding it at all.
Fang felt her lips curve into a smile and she felt a little warmer. Good, then. They entered the building without a further word, and with a nod in Fang's direction, Lightning moved to where Snow, Hope and Sazh were sitting in the corner of the room. Fang watched Lightning greet them in a fairly good-natured fashion, still seeming more relaxed and positive than she'd been in... well, ever. Fang crossed her arms, her smile becoming a little crooked.
Vanille made a bee-line for where Fang lingered in the doorway, and Fang barely got out a 'g'morning' before Vanille had grabbed her wrist and had dragged her off into the far corner. As they finally reached a safe distance from the others, Vanille allowed them to come to a stop. Narrowing her eyes at Fang, Vanille tilted her head a little and crossed her arms, as if she was simply waiting for Fang to give in and start confessing.
Feeling a little amused by the whole thing, Fang leaned forward and mussed with the red pigtails, and Vanille finally laughed. Things felt so much better already, despite Fang's better judgement. She wondered, then, how long it could all last. The thought was sobering, and her smile faded.
"You told her," Vanille finally decided, and while she sounded relieved, she still seemed a little worried. "And it looks like it worked out okay."
"I can hardly believe it myself." Fang sighed. She glanced over to where Snow was elbowing Lightning in the ribs for some reason, idly wondering if Lightning's good mood would save Snow a right drubbing. "I wasn't expecting that. Or everything else, mind you."
"Everything else?" Vanille squinted at her again, an eyebrow raised.
"Hm." Fang tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "I suppose if you go ahead and make the same kind of assumptions as you did that morning out on the Steppe..." Fang's smile grew again as she spread her hands. "Let's just say you'd be dead on."
Vanille's eyes widened a little in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have managed that, not after how terrible you both have been. I swear, Fang."
Fang laughed shortly, but didn't bother deny Vanille's claims. "For once, it wasn't my idea. Like I said. Unexpected, but I am really not complaining here."
"But what else happened?" Vanille's circled Fang for a moment, frowning as she tried to take in every angle, almost as if she was trying to find some sort of evidence of Fang's wrongdoing. "Your mood has really changed. I know you love it but it's never made you..." Vanille waved her hands vaguely, before she sighed and blew her unruly bangs out of her eyes. "Well, happy like this."
Vanille was right, of course. Fang felt more content and at ease than she had in a very long time, and it had all been thanks to whatever had gone on between her and Lightning the night prior. Fang considered it more carefully – back in the War, no matter how much comfort Fang had drawn from physical intimacy, it had never changed anything. While Fang couldn't say Lightning had changed her mind, her worry had been eased somewhat. Maybe the same old desperation that had dogged her since the subterra had lifted a little with her acceptance of Lightning's staunch faith in her. Maybe it was that Lightning agreed – even if buried under conditions.
It felt like a new lease of life, and everything didn't feel so hopeless.
"What if it was just that good?" Fang asked idly, studying her fingernails with a teasing smirk.
Vanille slapped Fang's forearm arm with a huff, even if she still laughed a little at Fang's comments. "If you're making jokes about it, she really did manage to work a miracle." Vanille suddenly looked up and out the window, toward where Cocoon hung in the sky. Waiting. "Maybe... Maybe we can pull of another before the day is out."
Fang was quiet as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, because the reminder of how stark the situation was, no matter how well-intentioned Vanille's words had been, was enough to sour her mood. Vanille looked at her in askance, and Fang slowly sighed.
"She..." Fang wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "I told her what I wanted to do, and why." She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, feeling the same fear and righteous anger as she had the night before. "She wouldn't let me. Wouldn't let me go through with it. Said I'd have to go through her, first."
"Good." Vanille nodded approvingly, and Fang scowled at her.
"This morning, I managed to get her to agree to a compromise. Of sorts." At Vanille's questioning look, Fang elaborated. "She said that if it all looked hopeless... that I could do it. That I could save you all in the only way I know how."
Fang felt her old anguish stir like old sediment at the bottom of a lake, and she wondered again how she managed to get herself stuck in the same situation, time after time. While she hated her seeming familiarity with the whole thing, she couldn't deny that there was a certain comfort in knowing that she had what it took to turn Ragnarok and fulfil the Focus, even if it was only barely enough to save them all. Vanille, however, looked completely appalled by the bargain.
"But – Fang, why? Why would she let you?"
"It's not up to me, you see." Fang laughed, and it sounded hollow to her own ears. She hated this part of the bargain, no matter how much Lightning made her want to believe. "Bargain was, that I'd have to wait until she gives the word. No sooner, no later."
Vanille looked a little relieved, and Fang snorted softly to herself as she shot another look over her shoulder, to where Lightning was now eating with the rest of the l'Cie. Sazh waved her over, gesturing to the remainder of the food left and letting her know that she had a share, and Fang nodded to him. She turned back to Vanille, her mouth twisting.
"I'm not so sure that she will, you know," Fang told Vanille, her voice flat.
"Will what?"
"Say the word." It was hard for Fang to ignore the creeping feeling of paranoia about the topic, and she took a steadying breath. "Etro, I'm scared for you all and I can't help but think that she will turn cie'th before she lets me save you all."
Fang shot another glance over her shoulder, taking in the lines of Lightning's body, appreciating and fearing all at the same time. Lightning still looked so happy. A part of Fang's mind whispered 'delusional', while another part remembered the strange euphoria that some l'Cie suffered before losing everything. Fang's stomach twisted miserably, and she looked back into Vanille's worried eyes.
"I'm sorry, Vanille," Fang said softly, and she caught Vanille's hand and squeezed it tightly. "For everything I've put you all through."
Vanille looked down at their linked hands, looking a little dismayed for a moment before she threw her arms around Fang's neck, hugging her tightly. Fang's throat felt raw as she buried her face in her sister's neck, drawing comfort from the close contact.
"You've done nothing wrong, least of all to me," Vanille whispered in Fang's ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek and grabbing Fang's hand again. Feeling a little spent from her conversation with Vanille, Fang let herself follow her sister's lead, and the conversation and banter seemed to be in full-swing by the time they rejoined the group. Lightning shot her a smirk and a nod as Snow passed a bowl of food over to Fang, and Fang simply let herself enjoy it – the food, the family, and the feeling of being home.
She tried not to think of the fact that she'd lose it all soon enough.
A few mouthfuls of food later and during a short lull in the conversation, Hope cleared his throat and looked toward Lightning, his hand raised hesitantly.
"Hey, Light, is that a bug bite there on your neck or...?"
"I only wanted to see if she needed healing! What's the big problem?" Hope demanded, looking absolutely mortified as both Snow and Fang erupted into idiotic guffaws. Lightning's eyes widened and she clapped her hand to her neck quickly, before realising how useless the action was at that point and letting her hand simply drop back to her side. Lightning's jaw set in frustration and she shot Fang a quelling look – she'd had no idea that Fang had left a mark, let alone a visible one.
There was no reason to laugh at Hope like that, either – she hadn't exactly been open about the whole thing between herself and Fang. To him, the most obvious explanation for the mark could well have been a mosquito bite or some other scratch from Pulse's megafauna. Snow and Fang were still laughing between themselves, Vanille was rolling her eyes, Sazh was raising an eyebrow and Hope's blush had only deepened as he ducked his head.
"Look, Hope," Lightning said, but hesitated.
"If that sentence continues with, 'when two people love each other very much', I'm sorry but I am out of here," Sazh cut in, raising his hands defensively, and Lightning was certain her face had flushed as red as Hope's.
"Oh, right." Hope cleared his throat again, blinking rapidly as he looked between Lightning and Fang. "Well. That's a little different." His voice was a little high pitched and cracked as he said 'little', and he ducked his head again as if he wanted to sink into the floorboards.
Snow's poor attempt at a straight face fragmented into another fresh round of chuckles as he slung his arm around the boy and scraped his knuckles through the pale hair, and from the lewd wink she gave Lightning, Fang wanted to take full advantage of the situation to scar Hope for life.
"That's enough from the two of you," Lightning told them a little stiffly, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Snow heaved a sigh, and he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye before grabbing the back of Hope's shirt.
"Right," Snow said, his voice holding a note of finality as he began to drag Hope toward the door and out of the run-down building. "You, me, birds and bees and birds-birds and bees-bees and every other possible combination of those mentioned, right now, kid."
"Snow!" Hope sounded aghast at Snow's plan, and he began to try to pry Snow's fingers loose even as he was unceremoniously marched away. "I've had the talk you really don't have to – I just didn't think-"
The door swung shut on the remainder of Hope's protests, and suddenly there was silence. Perhaps it was a good thing that Hope hadn't struggled too hard, because chances were Snow would have just thrown the boy over his shoulder, Lightning thought with a small smile.
"That a normal reaction?" Fang sounded amused at the situation, even if she did arch an eyebrow in question towards where Lightning stood.
Lightning sighed, resting her hand on her hip and letting her smile fade. "I'd say he's just a little sheltered."
"Not so sure that's the full picture," Sazh said with a small laugh. "I think it might be more his mind was blown at soldier-girl here doing anything more than hug." He looked a little apologetically at Lightning as he continued, "To be fair, I'm not so sure I can even get to 'hug'."
Lightning didn't bother pretending to be angry with his trouble contemplating her softer side – not even a week ago, she had thought much the same of herself. Relationships weren't for her, she was too busy, she was too concerned with Serah, training and becoming stronger. In the end that hadn't been her at all. Lightning smiled slightly, because she was glad that she'd changed.
Having Fang by her side – smiling, laughing, and feeling more synergy between them than Lightning had believed was possible – was worth all the possible distraction and doubt in the world. No matter what troubles the day brought her, she still had that to carry forward with her. With a slightly regretful smile, Lightning watched Fang all but drag Vanille out of the building – probably to watch the show as Snow tried to give the 'talk' to Hope.
Lightning was glad things had changed between them – she just wished that she hadn't taken so long to realise that she'd really wanted that change all along.
Sazh took his time in packing the remainder of his supplies away, and he seemed to want to speak with her quietly. Lightning nodded to him as he finally shouldered his pack, letting him know that he could get whatever it was off of his chest.
"So that was awkward," Sazh told her, and the chocobo chick in his hair chirped in agreement.
"You're telling me." Lightning laughed a little in spite of herself, and she looked at him squarely, all but openly daring him to continue with the tasteless jokes. Sazh nodded to himself, as if that answered his first question. He let the chocobo chick float down to his outstretched hand, his expression pensive.
"Everything sorted with you and her, then?" Sazh asked finally, and Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose.
"As far as I can tell... Maybe," she said, looking back over her shoulder, to where Fang and Vanille had vanished not a minute before. If only it were that easy.
"Glad to see you're certain." Sazh's voice was dry, but when Lightning looked back to him, his dark eyes seemed concerned. Lightning didn't know what to tell him. She had wanted to say 'yes', she really had, because she knew that things were so much the better for their confrontation the night before. The problem was that their views on the way forward and the Focus were so fundamentally opposed that saying that 'everything was sorted' was a woeful oversimplification of the matter.
"It's hard to tell with her," Lightning finally said, as they slowly made their way toward the door. "Her disposition seems to have brightened considerably, and she's promised to take no rash actions." Lightning's eyes narrowed, and not for the first time that day, she wanted to go outside and shake the sense into Fang. "She thinks Ragnarok is the only way to save us, for the record."
Sazh made a small and bitter-sounding noise. "Maybe she's right, when all is said and done."
Lightning didn't have the strength to argue the point again so early in the morning, so she simply shrugged. "It could be the case. But none of the rest of us want to cross that line, and that was my stance last night."
Sazh nodded, even if his face was a mixture between worry and relief. Lightning hesitated as she reached the building's exit, her hand resting on the slightly damp wood as she debated whether she should tell Sazh more. She almost laughed at herself, then. Secrets and miscommunication were the tools of anarchy and the key to destroying even the strongest and well-attuned squads. Lightning had learned her lesson over the past week, painful as it had all been. She exhaled sharply, looking over her shoulder to where Sazh was waiting.
"She promised me that she wouldn't do something stupid and attempt Ragnarok on her own," Lightning told him, and she was surprised at how level and calm she sounded to her own ears. "But when it comes down to it, I'm not sure I have full control over this situation."
"Control?" Sazh looked skeptical, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Perhaps that's the wrong word," Lightning conceded. "We're at an impasse. Our position is clear and our choice. The problem is that Fang's position is clear and it's her choice. It's a difficult situation. All of us are in this together and it's all connected." Lightning shook her head, unamused at how reality had played out. Things were better than they were, of course they were. But what was she going to do about the rest of the problem?
Lightning swallowed her unease and continued. "I managed to convince her to wait until the last moment, and I'm not so sure she's going to." She could feel the brand through her sweater, raw, hot and always felt like it was waiting on the edge of her mind.
"If she doesn't?" Sazh's voice was soft, and Lightning rolled her shoulders irritably at the thought.
"I honestly have no idea what I'll do. Something." Lightning closed her eyes, just for a moment before she pushed the door open. "I've got to do something."
The decision to move on from Oerba was not one that was openly discussed between the l'Cie, but it felt as though a silent agreement had been made as they made their way across the broken the bridge and toward the lands beyond. Stress itched at Fang's mind as she kept pace beside Vanille, because chances were that they wouldn't even make it to the next port of call before something had to give. She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to round on them all and tell them how it was.
That never worked, though, not back in the Ark and it certainly hadn't worked the night before. It felt like she was waiting for the axe to fall, and it was driving her to distraction no matter how many hugs Vanille offered her or how many reassuring looks Lightning shot her. Fang's mouth twisted. How much longer was it going to take before Lightning broke and let Fang do what she had to do? The consequences of failure was all around them, from the shattered buildings to the horrifying convulsions of the cie'th they fought.
Fang paused as they passed over a narrow stretch of bridge, her eyes narrowing as she looked out over the crystal-dusted coasts. She felt Vanille hesitate beside her and begin to say something, but surprisingly her sister changed her mind and remained silent as they both looked upwards, toward where Cocoon had always hung in the sky. Five hundred years ago, she'd failed to take it out. It really was do or die, this time. Fang's head began to hurt, and she turned, refusing to meet Vanille's worried gaze as they continued on.
They'd only reached but the centre of the old bridge when the voice drifted to Fang's ears, soft and reverent on the wind. The voice seemed to come from nowhere at all, and Fang's skin began to crawl as she listened.
"Ragnarok. Come Day of Wrath, O Pulse l'Cie. Embrace thy fate, thine home to burn. That fallen souls might bare our plea... to hasten the Divine's return."
Ragnarok.
Fang looked up sharply, her eyes quickly scanning the wrecked train line that stretched on before them. In spite of the obvious lack of a threat, her fingers twitched for her weapon. Ahead of her, Lightning had hesitated, and Snow had frozen mid-stride with a sharp intake of breath. Light and darkness seemed to coalesce before them, and a girl – shorter than Vanille – drifted towards them.
"O Piteous Wanderer, Ragnarok," the girl continued in a quiet and haunting voice that didn't feel there. "Make of this day a brave epoch. Deliver the Divine, Ragnarok."
Fang's eyes narrowed further as the light cleared and the girl's features came into sharper relief. Even before Snow whispered the girl's name, Fang knew without a doubt that this person was Serah – Lightning's only remaining family and the one who had shaped Lightning's life in the same way Vanille had shaped Fang's own. Fang's lips thinned, and she discretely loosened the straps that help her polearm to her back.
No matter who said the words, anyone who dared to say Ragnarok was a good thing was an enemy in Fang's mind.
The expression of doubt and horror on Lightning's face was heartbreaking as she did not move to embrace her only family, and it only reinforced Fang's feeling of foreboding. Fang didn't dare make a move either, because what if she was wrong after all? What if this Serah really was no threat?
"I was waiting for you to open your eyes," Serah told them, from where Snow was cradling her in her arms. His expression was still shocked, still completely unbelieving. "All the time I was asleep, I knew what was happening. I kept trying to think of a way to save Cocoon – together."
Her voice was still hollow and reeked of manipulation, so much so that even Snow sensed the deep wrongness and pushed her away. Serah stumbled back and fell to the ground, and instead of reacting with anger or surprise the way Fang would have expected, Serah simply smiled and pushed herself back to her feet.
"You get it, now." Serah drifted around the edge of the group, her dead eyes sliding over each and every one of the l'Cie as she smiled in a way that was not quite human. Fang watched her, her jaw clenching uselessly as Barthandelus' mechanical owl circled like a vulture above them. "There are no gods with miracles to save us, no matter where you look. That's why we have to call one."
Serah turned from them for a moment, and Fang tore her eyes away from Menrva. So that was the way the dice had landed, was it? From the look in her eyes, Lightning had figured out the fal'Cie's trickery too, but Lightning had not yet raised her weapon against her sister. Fang didn't blame her.
"Destroy Orphan," Serah begged them as she turned. "We'll save the world!"
"Stop it!" Lightning snapped, her face white but her hand moving for her weapon nonetheless. The corner of Fang's mouth turned up in a humourless smile – maybe Lightning could strike her own sister down. Serah bared her teeth and her eyes narrowed calculatingly as she seemed to slide forward.
"You can't do that, you love me too much." Serah's voice was confident and smug. As Serah drew close, Lightning's move to draw her weapon froze, and Serah leaned in. "You do, don't you, Claire?"
Snow cut in between them, and Fang had to wonder who exactly he was trying to protect – Lightning, or Serah?
"Enough already," Snow told Serah, his voice low and serious. "Listen up – we are all shooting for the same goal here-"
The illusion, Serah, shattered with a pulse of blinding light that left Fang blinking to clear the dark spots from her eyes. When Fang raised her head to survey the damage, she met the unforgiving eyes of Galenth Dysley, and he smiled as if he knew all of her doubts and all of her fears. As if he knew that it was only a matter of time before Fang would bow and fulfil out his deepest wish. Fang's stomach twisted and she felt filthy for being complicit in his plans.
"And the result of that is this," Dysley told them coldly, and he spread his arms wide in supplication. It was as if he hadn't just tried to manipulate them by wearing the skin of a loved one. Fang's eyes narrowed as she remembered the look of shock and horror on Lightning's face. The Cocoon fal'Cie deserved to die!
"You son of a-" Snow roared as he launched himself forward again and again, only to be thrown back into their midst as his fist impacted with whatever barrier Dysley had formed about himself.
"You betray your fal'Cie to chase after dreams and shadows," Dysley said, gesturing with one hand to the ruins of Oerba, as if he'd known all along what they'd sought in the wreckage. "The world you claim you wish to protect now faces the end of days with no hope of salvation."
The parallels he'd drawn between Cocoon's fate and the fate of her fellow l'Cie were not lost on Fang, and she itched to lash out at him, to do anything that would stop him from speaking or hurting her family further. Vanille rested her hand against Fang's shoulder, her touch calming and reassuring.
"I didn't think fal'Cie had the means," Lightning snapped, her hand still reaching for her weapon as if she echoed Fang's silent sentiments exactly.
"Oh, it won't be fal'Cie who destroy her. For centuries now, Cocoon has provided generously for its human inhabitants' every want and need. Coddled them, one might even say. The result being, their deep-seated fear and hatred of change and all things alien." Dysley's lips twisted into a sneer, his contempt for human life plain. "Fed, nurtured, and ready to detonate at the slightest spark. The seeds of destruction take root, even now."
"What did you do to Cocoon?" Lightning demanded, and Fang shook her head. Perhaps Dysley was a fool to be telling them of his plan, but what was far more likely was that things were far enough along for none of it to matter. If things were that bad up there, then –
"I resigned, appointing Raines as Primarch in my stead."
"Raines?" Snow started forward, his eyes wide. "He's alive?"
The corners of Dysley's mouth curled cruelly again. "The puppet is restrung to serve my needs, yes. Its eyes have long since turned to glass."
Fang lowered her eyes, the sheer implications that simple action of Dysley's would have on an organisation like the Cavalry, even as Vanille gasped in horror at the callous nature of the blow. Fang had long since expected such ruthlessness from Cocoon fal'Cie, even if it seemed that nobody else did.
"Of course," Dysley continued, almost laughing but not quite, as if humanity's struggles and dreams were nothing but a simple amusement for him as he crushed them into oblivion. "In the eyes of the Cavalry, our friend will be seen as nothing more than a traitor to their cause. They'll say the fal'Cie got to him too, or some such drivel. And imagine – when I spread the word that it's Orphan tugging at his strings – what happens next."
"You're gonna use the Cavalry to take the thing out?" Sazh sounded alarmed.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps, I'll feign the howling of Pulsian wolves and let the fear-addled sheep slaughter themselves first! Either way, the end is at hand."
Dysley began to laugh, and Fang wondered if the others realised just how badly they'd lost to the fal'Cie's machinations. No matter which way they turned, Cocoon and everyone alive up there was doomed. Her teeth bared and her hands began to shake. Why the hell wasn't Lightning saying the word? How the hell could she even hope that they could still win? Why not end the game in a way that didn't involve turning cie'th for martyrdom?
"But what of yourselves?" Dysley asked, interrupting Fang's thoughts. "Will you enjoy the festivities beside me? Or perhaps..."
Dysley raised his staff to the sky. Menvra circled him once, fusing with him in a flash of blinding light and suddenly there was a lot less room on the Oerban bridge as Barthandelus grinned rapturously down at them.
"Greet the end here, in the land where it all began?"
Screw Ragnarok, Fang decided, drawing her weapon and throwing herself forward alongside Snow into battle, as Lightning began to call out formations and strategy. We have to survive this arsehole's tender attentions first.
To save a people beyond salvation, there is only Ragnarok.
Lightning turned Barthandelus' words over and over in her head, sharpening her dualweapon with steady and practices strokes that belied the chaos in her mind. Following their fight, the group had resolved to go and confront Orphan directly – Lightning was unsure how much good talking with the central fal'Cie would do them. Perhaps if they got rid of Barthandelus as well...
Lightning cursed softly as her steady motion slipped, and she nearly sliced her thumb open. Looking up through her bangs, her eyes lingered on where Vanille was crouched, pouring over the Analects – or whatever they were called – with Fang at her back, and judging by the disgruntled look on Vanille's face, the other woman was probably offering some very unhelpful commentary. Fang's face, however, betrayed none of the raw anger of last night, and she seemed almost light-hearted.
Lightning was not fooled, not any more. She knew now that Fang was good at pretending, and that the smiles and laughter were probably just the calm before the storm. Lightning's lips twitched into a reluctant smile as she watched Vanille suddenly flap her hands at Fang and she heard snatches of Vanille's overwrought lecturing. She looked back down to her weapon, fishing a rag out of her bag and beginning to polish the blazefire sabre's mirror edge.
Somewhere between the Sulyya Springs and last night, Vanille had ceased to be such a big threat in Lightning's mind. Maybe it was because she knew for sure how Fang felt, maybe it was because they'd managed to exhaust all of their vulnerabilities and anger, and somehow they'd still come out of it feeling just as strongly for each other. The how or why hardly mattered, either way. Lightning didn't mind Vanille quite so much. Now that she had a better understanding of Fang's past and what drove her, she had just a little more respect for Vanille as she tried to ground and balance Fang a little more.
Lightning heard the scuff of shoes on cracked concrete, the gait unmistakable and she looked up with with a raised eyebrow. When Vanille had sent Fang away in a fit of pique, the next obvious choice of who to bother was clearly Lightning. She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or exasperated, so she settled on both. Fang's eyes seemed distant and thoughtful though, and Lightning wondered if she was dwelling on Ragnarok and the Focus.
"I was just thinking of you," Lightning offered, eager to keep Fang redirected.
"We've a saying on Gran Pulse about that." Fang leaned on the broken wall beside Lightning, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "'Think of the devil, and you step on his tail'."
Lightning snorted, turning her gaze back to her weapon maintenance. "Don't flatter yourself."
Fang was quiet for a few moments, and Lightning began to cast about for something else to say, but Fang's next words saved her the trouble.
"Claire, huh?" Fang asked, her voice quiet as if she was unsure how loud she was permitted to speak the name. Lightning paused in her motions for a moment, considering. In the turmoil of seeing Serah and the fight afterwards, she'd forgotten that Barthandelus had let her old name slip out. It hardly mattered, though she supposed she was a little annoyed at having that choice taken from her.
"It was a long time ago, but yes." Lightning nodded, folding the oily rag over three times and placing back in the small bag strapped to her thigh.
"It's a nice name, but..." Fang openly studied her, her eyes thoughtful as they seemed to draw in everything that Lightning was. Lightning tolerated the scrutiny, until finally, Fang shrugged. "It doesn't suit you."
"I'm sure that Serah would disagree," Lightning said, sheathing her weapon with a smile that felt a little more strained than usual. Serah had never really liked the whole 'Lightning' thing, and even though she'd gone along with it, she'd regularly complained about it.
"Before you think I don't like it – Etro, don't look at me like that, as if I could really hate any bit of you – I just happen to reckon that you've grown beyond it." Fang took a hold of the end of Lightning's red cape, and began to toy with it absently for a moment.
"My motives for choosing 'Lightning' weren't exactly the most mature." Lightning wondered then if Hope had told Fang the story she'd shared with him in Palumpolum, and then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. "But you're right, I suppose. I might not be who I thought I was, back before becoming a l'Cie... I might be trying harder, but I'm not just Claire any more. I'm always going to be Lightning."
"So you stay Lightning." Fang smiled, and Lightning frowned when the look in Fang's eyes bordered on relief. "I'm kind of glad that I know, though. Even if you have been using a pseudonym since we met. Lying to a woman about your name just to sleep around – I'd never have thought it of you."
Lightning scoffed quietly at Fang's failure of a joke, wondering why Fang would be so relieved about the whole name business. There was silence from Fang now, and Lightning could feel the oppressive weight of it now that the easy banter had faded away.
"This..." Fang ran her hand through her hair. The gesture would have seemed casual before last night, but now it seemed to reek of anxious energy and barely masked fear. "It it all part of the plan?"
"Not exactly." Lightning leaned over slightly, shifting so that the bare skin of her shoulder rested against Fang's own. She had to be honest, because the worst thing to do would be to lie to Fang after the trust between them was still so new and weak. "We'll go along with it for now, though."
Fang muttered something that sounded rebellious and cynical, and Lightning nudged her slightly with her elbow.
"Hope is right," Lightning told her, looking over to where Menvra waited to take them up to whatever chaos was happening on Cocoon. "If we don't stop Barthandelus now, this whole mess just happens to someone else down the line – you know that better than anyone." Lightning looked squarely at Fang, taking in her stony silence. It was has a harsh thing that she'd said, Lightning knew that, but surely Fang would appreciate the truth in it. Lightning sighed as Fang gave her no leeway.
"So long as we look like we're playing his game," Lightning continued, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head up to look at where Cocoon sat, seeming to wait for a hammer to fell it. "I have the feeling that Barthandelus will give us the time to get as close to Orphan as we wish."
"Is that right?" Fang's voice was harsh and tight, and through the contact at their shoulders, Lightning could feel how rigid her body was. "What makes you so sure?"
"He practically told us outright that we had it in us to make it to Orphan. That we would make it to Orphan, that we'd see our own failure even if we just watched from the sidelines."
"And you're only now deciding to get righteous about how cruel Cocoon fal'Cie are?" Fang's jaw tightened stubbornly, and Lightning wondered what lingering memories Fang had of Cocoon fal'Cie and the War. "You're around five hundred years behind the ball, Light."
Lightning ignored Fang's jab. "It's a reprieve. He's as good as said we have a chance."
"And you don't think he won't up and pull the trigger on one of you, just to keep you all downtrodden and knowing who the boss is?" Was the expression in Fang's eyes anger, desperation, or an explosive mixture of both?
Fang's grim scenario had flitted through Lightning's thoughts frequently since their decision to take the fight to Barthandelus' doorstep, and the thought of any one of their group finally running out of time on the whim of that fal'Cie was enough to make her skin crawl. Even so, what were they to do? Sit back and wait to die down on Gran Pulse, while Fang got it into her head that she'd finally turn Ragnarok? Not a chance, not while there was still a glimmer of hope.
"It's a gamble that we're going to have to take," Lightning told Fang, her voice firm. "You've mentioned 'Lady Luck' before – have a little faith in the dumb luck that got us this far."
Fang's lips were compressed in a tight, flat line. "Easier said than done."
"Vanille believes," Lightning pointed out, jerking her head over to where Vanille still scoured the Analects for further clues in the past.
"That's the thing." Fang said, her voice tight even if the look in her eyes was fond and gentle. "I've always been the one to see reality, make the tough calls and hard choices. Some things never change."
The rawness and anger seemed to come and go, and sometimes it was a little hard for Lightning to follow along. The awful tension between them had bubbled up again despite Lightning's best efforts, despite their talk and their agreement. Lightning struggled to fight down her retaliatory anger at Fang's stubborn cynicism, and she cast about for something to diffuse the situation with. What did Fang believe in? What did she have to hold onto? Fighting the Focus was all well and good for people who wanted to believe in something, but for Fang it seemed to be not just useless but outright detrimental.
Fang needed something concrete and irrefutable, something to hold on to.
"And some things do change." Lightning leaned into Fang's forearm again, just enough pressure for Fang to take comfort but not enough contact to stifle her. "You and I, like this. Pulse and Cocoon, fighting for the same goal. Friends."
"More." The corner of Fang's mouth twitched in a reluctant smile, and Lightning counted that as a small victory even if the other woman's eyes remained stark and wary.
"When you woke up in the Vestige, would you have thought that possible?" Lightning asked, and she watched Fang push herself away from the wall and give her a long, suspicious look.
"I'll play along, for now," Fang said, her voice low enough that Lightning had to really listen to catch her words. "You know what we agreed, though."
Lightning watched her leave to stand by Vanille's shoulder again, and Lightning sighed to herself and rubbed a frustrated hand through her hair.
"As if I could forget... I don't know what I can do to help you see the future we're trying to reach."
She felt as if an enormous pressure on her had just eased with Fang's departure. She supposed, if she was to be honest with herself, that that was exactly the problem. She was so worried about Fang, so determined to make Fang see that it might not end in disaster.
Fang was far too stubborn though, and Lightning was at a loss.
A good part of Eden was already nothing but smoking wreckage by the time the group had made it back to Cocoon. It had been Snow's idea to create enough of a scene to try and draw the Cavalry's attention from Orphan, but so far they'd encountered none of Raines' old army and more of PSICOM's zealous goons than Fang could stomach. The Gran Pulsian wildlife running havoc through the streets was just icing on the bloody cake, too.
The ground occasionally trembled from the force of distant explosions, and were those screams she heard, or was it just the over-vivid echo of a memory long gone? Either way, Cocoon vipers still died just the same as the folk on Gran Pulse had back in the war. Fang's teeth had clenched, and it felt like the acrid smoke was everywhere, clinging to her skin and clothing and making everything seem far worse than it should have been.
Everything felt so similar to her old memories, and it felt like five hundred years had not passed at all. The feeling made her mind feel hazy and ill, and as they forced their way through the soldiers, the monsters and the weaponised machinery, Fang wondered how much longer she could take it. She'd promised Lightning that she would hold it together until the very end, but her resolve was fraying at an alarming rate and she was certain she was about to go mad from the memories hammering on the insides of her skull.
Vanille's hand in Fang's own was not enough to distract her, no matter how many sad looks the girl shot her in the quiet after battle. Vanille knew how it was, Vanille knew exactly how much trouble Fang was having. She knew how familiar the situation was for Fang, no matter that their surroundings were so alien and their enemies were still Cocoon soldiers.
The understanding was appreciated, though, even if it hardly offered respite.
Snow's groupies eventually found them, and Fang could barely force herself to listen to the crock of shit they were spouting, about heroes and saving Cocoon. She almost opened her mouth to make all of them shut up, but Fang felt a fleeting touch at the small of her back. It was surprising, just enough to make her hesitate and take a deep breath to calm herself a little, and she watched Team NORA rocket away.
Over her shoulder, Lightning offered her a small smile, and Fang wondered how she was managing. Her face was pale and tired, a little smudged from the smoke and soot, and Fang wasn't sure if it was because of the brand, or it it was simply seeing her home brought to the edge of ruin.
Vanille and Lightning – if they could hold it together, why the hell couldn't Fang? Fang clenched her teeth and forged onwards through Eden.
They'd left Yaag behind to await medical help from whatever PSICOM could spare, and Fang had been glad to simply leave him to whatever fate he ended with. If he died before PSICOM could get to him, then she really wouldn't bat an eyelid. It didn't matter that he'd finally called his dogs off. He was an officer of the enemy, he'd frankly made their lives hell since the Purge, and Fang would be damned before she felt sorry for him.
As they'd all gathered before the elevator for the next part of their trek to Orphan, an explosion shook the ground and Fang knew with a certainty that it had come from where they'd left Yaag. Beside her, Vanille had flinched covered her mouth, all shock, horror and pity for the man. Fang had held her sister back, because there was nothing that could be done for the man now. Even so, Snow looked uneasy, Sazh was grim, and Hope had gone white and had looked down at his shoes.
Fang wondered, then, just how well-known this Yaag idiot had been for Cocoon. Just a few steps before her, in easy reach if Fang so wished, Lightning's face was a stoic mask of iron control, and Fang realized that for these people, Yaag had never really been an enemy at all. She'd never considered that before.
As they exited the elevator, Fang lingered toward the back of the group, motioning sharply to catch Lightning's eye. The woman nodded, quickly spoke with Snow about something that Fang's straining ears couldn't catch, and then made her way back to where Fang stood by the elevator. Lightning's expression was still closed-off and business-like as she stopped before Fang, but at Fang's sharp look, the serious mask faded.
That was better. Fang wanted to talk with Lightning, not the drill sergeant. The others had moved on ahead, so that there would be no danger of being overheard.
"That Yaag fellow," Fang started, shooting a look back towards where the blast had come from, before shaking her head. "Was he well known? You guys seem awfully put out about him."
It sounded like a callous question, but Fang had asked it anyhow. A lot of Lightning's past was an unknown quantity, even if the same could be said of Fang's own past.
"To an extent, I suppose. Yaag Rosch's name was always associated with security and safety, and that's a hard thing to shake – even if he has been trying his damnedest to kill us," Lightning amended, her small smile becoming wry.
Not to be deterred, Fang pressed on. "Did you know him?"
Lightning shot Fang a fleeting glance, and her eyes were amused even if her expression was pale and tired. "Not as much more than an acquaintance."
"Is that right? Thought you said you weren't PSICOM."
"Back when I trained for the Corps, Rosch used to train us. PSICOM tactical maneuvers, that sort of thing." Lightning shrugged, as if that part of her past meant little to her and that the man they'd just fought had not been someone she'd known personally. "He said that PSICOM would be glad to have me when I graduated. PSICOM was too unstable for my liking, and I chose to stay near Bodhum, for Serah."
"Glad you did?" Fang asked, studying her reactions. She told herself that she was only getting to know Lightning while she still could – to take something good with her into crystal stasis – and not just fishing for trouble or more arguments.
"Maybe." Lightning smiled humourlessly. "I suppose I've often wondered what would have happened, had I chosen differently, had I not chosen Serah over my own career advancement."
"You'd be dead as Rosch, if you were in PSICOM. Or one of those poor sucker cie'th Vanille said you encountered in the Vestige," Fang told her, while the more cynical part of her mind whispered that Lightning would be as good as dead soon, anyway.
"I can only imagine," Lightning said with a nod, and she looked up to where Cocoon's fake sun shone above them. She seemed quiet, though it was more of a pensive silence than an offended one. "Vanille once asked me, 'what do you do in your spare time?', and I'm not sure she found my answer satisfactory."
Fang frowned, crossing her arms against her chest, unsure of what she was really meant to do with that piece of information. Doubtful of where it was all going, Fang said, "I suppose that sounds like her."
"It took me a while to understand what she was really asking." Lightning paused, and suddenly Fang felt like she was the one being openly analysed for flaws or weakness. "Fang. What do you want to do, after all this is over?"
Fang rolled her shoulders, feeling a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. "You're jumping like a flea between topics here."
Lightning wasn't fazed by Fang's quiet rebuke, and rested her hand on one hip. She looked more stubborn than usual, Fang noted with an internal sigh.
"Did you want to rebuild Oerba, bring it back?" Lightning asked softly but firmly, her hand moving forward as if to reach out for Fang, but she must have thought better of it because she simply let it fall back to her side. "Maybe live here, on Cocoon? Find a place for yourself and Vanille?"
Fang's eyes narrowed, the truth of the situation suddenly growing clear. "I know exactly what you reckon you're doing."
"Does that change anything?" Lightning's tone was entirely too innocent, and Fang turned her back on the other woman as her anger spiked.
"You don't have to do all this, just to spare my tender feelings." Fang closed her eyes, suddenly doubting everything. Her hands clenched into fists, and she let out a long breath. "Is this what last night was all about? Soothing me so I don't go off the deep end? You don't have to. I'm a big girl, and I'll manage. I'll cope."
There was a light pressure at the back of Fang's neck as Lightning rested her forehead, a slight pull as Lightning tangled a hand in Fang's sari. She heard Lightning take a deep breath, and abruptly felt a little sorry for her outburst.
"No, I suppose I don't have to, but that's not what it was about at all." Lightning's breath tickled the back of Fang's neck, and Fang shivered. "And anyway, what if I want to? What if I want your answer and your hope, not just for you but for me, as well?"
"For you?" Fang looked around, an eyebrow raised. Well, the explanation would be good, at the very least.
"It took me a while, to figure out exactly what Vanille meant back then." Fang felt Lightning's hands clench and pull the fabric tangled in them tighter, before relaxing. "My answer for her, my ambitions, my life... It was all about Serah. I'd come to expect it to be that way. It was just what I did."
Fang nodded, and it all felt achingly familiar.
"Once, it was enough for me. I really was happy. Now... I don't think I can go back. I don't think I should, either." Lightning's hand on Fang's shoulder made her turn, and Fang looked directly into Lightning's eyes.
Despite the situation, she still got a thrill out of seeing that much emotion in Lightning's eyes, after weeks of apathy and days of anger or resentment.
"Part of me still thinks this was a bad idea, and that it's just another worry on top of everything else. For once, I didn't do what was expected of me." Lightning laughed softly, and it sounded reluctant. Her fingertips trailed down from Fang's shoulder, a feather-light contact, as if she was afraid to touch too hard or too much.
"I wanted you for me, selfish as it seemed at the time." Lightning's lips twitched into a warm smile as she caught Fang's hand lightly in her own. "And I'm glad I'm starting to do so. I have something to look ahead to, something to build."
Fang was quiet for a long while as she digested Lightning's words, looking down at where both of Lightning's gloved hands held one of Fang's own. She hadn't known Vanille had considered Lightning's viewpoint with Serah such an issue. The fact that the situation between Lightning and Serah was so mirrored by Fang and Vanille's was not lost on Fang, either.
"I don't want to rebuild Oerba," Fang said suddenly, and was rewarded by Lightning's obvious surprise. To her credit, the other woman recovered herself quickly.
"Running away from the past, then? How very... Oerban of you." Lightning's voice was completely deadpan, even if there was a grain of truth to her words.
"Running? More like moving forward." Fang laughed in spite of herself, and she tightened her grip on Lightning's hands. "Between me and Vanille, you must have an awful perspective on how we deal with things on Gran Pulse. We must be nothing but a pack of cowards."
"Not at all." Lightning sounded amused by Fang's strangled attempt at banter, and Fang felt herself relax a little more.
"Maybe I want to travel instead, and see all of Gran Pulse. See what's changed, see if Vanille and I really are the only ones left. The past is ours to reclaim," Fang said with more conviction, before quickly amending with a wider smile, "At least to me, it is."
"You're not wrong." Lightning's look was fond as she tugged on Fang's hand lightly to get them moving along. "Sounds like a hell of a future."
"Yeah," Fang agreed, letting Lightning take her back to the group, back to their journey to Orphan, to pain and perhaps salvation. "It would be, if we ever got the time."
It was a stupid and useless dream, because it wouldn't happen and couldn't happen. Not with the Focus and not with Barthandelus breathing down their necks. But there was just so much that Fang wanted to share with her family, all the experiences and sights sounds – thinking about it filled Fang with a fierce sort of longing that she'd thought she'd long since left behind.
In spite of the Focus and the hell of the past few weeks, Fang didn't want her time with them to end. She wished that they could have gone on forever back on Gran Pulse, laughing and exploring her old home in blissful ignorance. Fang's grip tightened on Lightning's hand and her pace slowed to a stop. As Lightning turned to ask what was wrong, Fang darted forward, her free hand cupping Lightning's chin and pulling her in for a searing kiss.
Fang felt Lightning's hands tangle in her hair, and Fang felt herself shudder as she tried to commit every taste, texture and scent to her memory. She tried to make it so that even if stasis somehow happened, that the world spun onwards in spite of Cocoon's fall and she woke to find that she'd lost a whole handful of her memories again, she'd remember.
Fang eventually had to pull away, a little out of breath and still feeling so raw, but Lightning reached forward and hugged her close again. Fang could have sworn that she'd heard Lightning's breath hitch a little, and she wondered if Lightning wanted those same memories to take with her into the fight with Barthandelus.
"Let's go," Lightning told Fang, and Fang nodded stiffly. To a fate worse than death, to crystal stasis, to absolute destruction, either way it all ended soon.
I think I'm on a roll - only one last chapter to go, then the epilogue. Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I was participating in FF_Exchange this year and needed to get the story finished and submitted (for those interested - a behind the scenes Snow/Lightning angst fic - archiveofourown works / 409710 / chapters / 679406 - no spaces).
And can I just say, thank god these two have mostly stopped being angry at one another. It's nice to write them as generally being positive about one another.
With regard to the recent purges of mature/explicit fanfiction from this site, please be advised that I have everything archived on my AO3 account ( archiveofourown users / Zerrat ). You can read the fic on AO3 and even easily download pdf or epub versions of the fic. At least AO3 doesn't eat the spaces between my italicized words. Hmph.
Anyhow, I hope this chapter is up to scratch. Thanks for reading!