a chaotic heart
Chapter 19

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He's going home today. Again. Free from his restraints and at the end of another cycle of clarity and white and why do the two of them have to come hand in hand? He's safest in the hospital. He's also the most raw, the most in pain – and at least now it's only the drugs and other things they pump into him, and no currents.

And the Saviour, chasing after the last soul she still wants to safe, whether she's realised that or not.

No… No, that's Bhunivelze's thoughts, not his own.

But something's distracting him. Not the pink roots in her skull that are rather prominent now that she's stopped redying her hair (in contrary to his own, which are always black for some reason when they're new, before going grey in a matter of days).

It's…something else. Something foreign, something that both draws him in – and pushes him away.

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If her last visit to Hope had been one of the best so far in this new world, this current one has jumped up to the position of worst.

'There's something black…right here.' And his frigid fingers poke at her stomach: at the piercing that had been licked by more tongues than she cared to count, and around it.

Her piercing is gold, not black. Will never go black. And while the colour isn't anything special to Hope, it is to Bhunivelze and she latches onto his insinuation quickly enough.

And, rightly so, she panics. Internally, so she doesn't give that smug bastard the satisfaction, doesn't freak poor Hope out underneath, so she doesn't think that maybe he's right and she's jumped to the right conclusion and however is she going to handle a baby on top of everything else –

And then she's stumbling back, flailing for balance, and one of Hope's IV poles crashed to the ground. Hope screams and pulls back to the head of the bed – and then the pieces come together. Him crouched, knees braced and arms outstretched.

He. Pushed. Her. And doing that has managed to pull out one of his IV lines. The commotion attracts a nurse, who sees what's happening and presses the buzzer and summons a few more.

Claire is still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Hope just pushed me when she's ushered out.

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They restrain him. And sedate him. He can feel them, no longer comfortable but tight and binding and only the heavy fog in his brain stops his mind from slipping away.

Instead, he trembles and cries and there's nobody to comfort him. Just people, cold and far away, asking why. Why did he –

Why did I –

' – push Miss Farron like that?'

He can't answer. He doesn't know. There's something different. Somethingsomethingsomething –

They prick him again and he plunges gratefully into the darkness.

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'I don't know,' says Claire honestly, when they question her. They've examined her and found nothing. She even admits she's had unprotected sex recently and if they wouldn't mind screening for pregnancy as well – but they're professional and do as she asks without comment, and come back with nothing.

That doesn't ease her mind, however. It could just be too early to tell. But she may have jumped to the wrong conclusion as well. What else would the God of Light see as black?

Everything human related? Her mind, or Lumina, piques up sarcastically.

She snorts. Probably. He didn't understand humans: their dreams, their emotions, their enduring faith... Nor does he seem to understand human fragility, thinking souls can be released from their torment with a few material things. If that were the case, Serah and Snow would be living happily ever after in the house they'd always dreamed of and with the children they've always dreamed of… but that's a medical issue too, she reminds herself. She can't blame everything on a God.

…well, she can, per say, but that doesn't make it right, or viable.

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Maybe Hope can confirm.

The thought's a good one, but getting a confirmation from him proves harder than she thinks. First it's the hospital barring all visitors. Another psychological evaluation – which she thinks is a bit excessive considering she didn't even fall and hadn't been hurt in the least – but they do it anyway. And transfer him for a week before releasing him back home.

Then there's the next week and another negative pregnancy test, this time a home one she's appropriated from Serah's medicine cabinet, and Serah and Snow are both well aware of why she has and have, as usual, waved off the weak promise that she'll pay them back). And Bartholomew or Nora waving away her calls. 'I'm sorry,' Nora apologises, after the third time that second week. 'Hope hasn't been doing much except staring at his wall.'

'I can come visit,' she volunteers.

But neither of them are sure it's a good idea.

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The third week gives it away. The two lines instead of one, and Serah drags her to the doctor to be properly confirmed.

Two days later, it's official. She's pregnant. And single and jobless and about to lose her apartment again. And she calls to let the Estheims know, and is surprised when they don't seem to be.

'Hope told you,' she sighs.

'He told himself,' Bartholomew corrects. 'Has been muttering something about having killed the baby, too.'

She goes cold at that. 'It's too early,' she says mechanically. 'A couple more weeks before they can do any sort of imaging. It was just confirmed today.'

'I…see.' He doesn't see. It's obvious in his tone. He's wondering how Hope can know for sure when she's only herself found out today. 'Congratulations, Miss – Claire.'

'Thank you,' she replies. 'It's more a case of irresponsibility than anything else, though.'

But she's not going to kill an innocent life for that.

Serah and Noel are right. Here, she has to start being responsible again.

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His father tells him, that Lightning's called and says she's pregnant – was probably pregnant that day in the hospital too) and has just found out.

He knows. He already knows. He knows because Bhunivelze knows and Bhunivelze realised it that day. He doesn't know how. Souls don't come in straight away, though scientists and religion have long argued the exact date. More in this new world than the old because there are many more religions, many more Gods, many more people to come up with theories and give them light and life. But the general consensus is that the soul isn't immediately there, not until the container has enough form to keep it bound and it's just not there that early in the process. So how does Bhunivelze know?

Well, he is a God. And that's the crux of the matter, the reason he won't ever win and he's not even allowed to lose. I need a way out of here.

The walls of his room cave in on him. He's been looking for that way out almost since he was born, it seems.

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'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'msorrysorrysorry –'

She finally gets through to Hope, and this is the result, him crying over the speaker, tumbling over his words.

'Hush,' she interrupts him, as gently as she can. 'It's okay. No harm, and I know it's not you – '

'It is!' And that gives her pause.

'Hope…'

'It felt weird. You felt weird.' She can barely understand him, his words tumbling as they are and there's another voice in the background – Nora, trying to keep him calm. Still, Claire doesn't grasp the next words at all.

And then she does. 'How long do you think it is before babies get a soul?' And his voice is flat, emotionless, like the Hope from the Ark.

'I – I don't know.' Hope excels in making her stammer, she thinks ruefully. And making her short-tempered before that. And making her raw in a way only Serah could before manage.

'There are various theories.' And now there's a hint of the scientist buried in there as well. 'The average consensus seems to be between fourty and a hundred and twenty days. At least six weeks.'

Its three weeks now, she thinks. Almost four. According to the average consensus, no soul. That's almost a depressing thought – but makes a sort of sense. There's no sense of body until at least week four. No brain or heart. She's learnt all this from her doctor, who's made sure to pump her up on vitamins to make sure her baby's not born with a hole in its head or something just as bad. 'You wouldn't believe the people who don't realise they're pregnant until months are gone,' she's been told.

She might not have either if it hadn't been for a certain boy and God.

'Bhunivelze can't sense human souls anyway. But the absence wouldn't matter when there isn't one yet.'

She sees the question now. 'The majority of the world might be wrong.'

'They're not.' He sounds sure – in the way the Hope of the Ark was sure when explaining the end of the world. 'There was no extra soul, but still… An empty doll, a vessel that will soon acquire…' His voice faded.

'Hope!' she cried.

'Stay away, Light,' he says, finally, and this time there's a bit of feeling there. The Hope in her heart before she saw the empty throne on the final day. 'It's too dangerous for the both of you.'

'That's what you've been saying since the beginning.' She half smiles, because she knows where this is going. Exactly where. But she wants to cry instead. Can I blame the pregnancy hormones yet? Or is it too early? 'Do you expect us to just abandon you?'

Another pause, and then, like every word is a struggle: 'I don't want you to abandon me. I want you to let me go.'