Fic: Do I Dare Disturb the Universe? Chapter 12: I Am Lazarus Pt 2

[frkmgnt1]

~12~
I Am Lazarus

Part I here

'Ladies first' may have been a bit overly optimistic. Snow stumbles on the first step away from the wall, right arm curled across his stomach, and hand pressed bloodless against his rib cage. Lightning pulls his left arm across her shoulders, hangs onto his wrist with one hand, uses the hand and arm around his back to add help support to his ribs, and the two of them navigate the horrors of the dungeon together.

Snow curses under his breath as they walk into the second room and he says, "Please tell me that you weren't chained up in here."


She shakes her head and he huffs out a relieved breath. He whispers, "This place…" but never finishes the thought.

There's no need. This place, indeed.

All the survivors are in the first room. It turns out, Lightning had only been gone for a half hour, no matter how much it felt like nearly a decade.

When the women see them they all stand up. They've all spent their time preparing for the escape. The healthier prisoners help the weaker ones. They've moved the dead to one corner, covered their faces in some attempt at providing dignity. They've apparently all put as many layers on as possible, and Lightning doesn't want to think about where they got the clothing. She refuses to judge anyone. This is about survival now, and they don't have the luxury of being precious. The dead don't need warm clothes.

Viola looks nervous as she approaches Lightning, though Lightning can't imagine why. "Hi," she says to Snow. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Snow lies. "Well, better anyway."

"I'm glad," Viola says. "Light was-"

"Viola, this is Snow," Lightning interrupts. Neither she nor Snow reed an instant replay of her horror at finding him.

"Hi," she repeats. Then says to Lightning, "I'm sorry, I ran away before, Light. I didn't-"

"You were in there?" Snow asks, looking horrified. He pins Lightning with an almost accusatory glare. "Are you all right?"

"I-I'm okay. I just…I was scared."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of. And if you're scared, you run. That's smart. That's what you do."

This. Man.

"It's fine, Viola," Lightning says. "Snow's right. There's no shame in running." The girl looks like she doesn't believe Lightning, but that she really wants to.

Good enough.

"Where's your friend? The…big…guy?" She makes vague hand gestures encompassing 'big.' "You know? Big guy? Big sword. Quiet."

"Bigger than me?" Snow asks.

"Much." She looks terrified, but curious. It's a look Lightning saw often on Hope's face during their time as l'Cie. "Like, twice your size or more. I don't know what he did, but you weren't getting off that floor. And he did something to the two of you. And now here you are."

Snow looks at Lightning and says, "Guess we know who healed me up."

Lightning nods. She's still confused as to how she managed to summon her Eidolon, but she can't keep the reverence from her voice when she says: "Odin."

"Looks like I owe him," Snow says. Then: "Why does that not seem great?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you call him 'creepy' all the time?"

"He is creepy," Snow declares. Then casts a guilty look around the room, like Odin might actually be a ghost just haunting the joint. "Uh, no offense, big guy. Wherever you are. Ya creep."

"Don't worry about it, Snow. I don't think he cares what you think about him."

"I'm not sure if I should be offended right now," Snow jokes. "What's wrong with me?"

"Such a good question."

"Ha Ha, you're hilarious, Light," he says, in the driest tone possible.

When they reach the group one of the women stuns Lightning stupid by saying, "Oh, thank the gods, you're alive!"

"What?"

"Not you," Viola whispers. "Him."

That makes even less sense to Lightning. "What?"

"Yeah, thanks. I'm okay," Snow says, clearly wanting that to be the end of the conversation.

"I can't believe it. I thought for sure they'd killed you." The woman starts sobbing.

"Oh, no. Please don't cry. Please. I'm begging you," Snow says, with rising panic. "I hate when women cry."

"I know you do," Lightning consoles, but she doesn't understand any of this. Moreover, she's sure she doesn't want to know right now. Or, probably ever.

"Is he yours?" one of the women asks Lightning.

"What?" She has no idea how to even begin to answer such a loaded question. She can feel Snow's eyes boring into her, waiting for her answer.

"They thought he was one of ours," the woman continues. "And they made us watch, and tried to force him to tell them which one of us was his."

Lightning can't look at Snow. She wishes this woman would shut up, and at the same time, needs to hear the rest. She knows she'll never ask Snow what they did to him. He's so wounded, that she can't imagine asking him to relive this nightmare. Snow has his forehead pressed to her temple, eyes closed, as if trying to hide from the recounting of the story.

"He wouldn't name anyone. They told him to just pick one if none of us were his. He didn't."

"Never," Snow whispers to himself. Lightning only catches the word because he's so close to her.

"'Never,' he yelled," she continues. "I can't believe you're still alive. The things they did-"

Lightning needs her to shut up now, or she's going to lose her mind.

"I'm okay, thanks," Snow says, and Lightning can hear and feel the panic rising. "I'm really okay." But he's not okay. He wasn't okay, and none of them will ever be okay, ever again.

"Most men would have done what they asked." She can feel Snow shake his head once in denial, but the denial is unnecessary. Lightning knows Snow would never give into such demands, no matter the cost to himself. And the cost was steep, indeed. She'd seen the wreckage of his body, after all.

"Thank you, for trying to help us."

"Please don't thank me!" Lightning needs to end this nightmare before Snow loses what little grip he has on himself and the situation. For all Snow's bluster about heroics, he's never taken praise well, nor accepted gratitude at all. One of the first things Lightning learned about Snow was that his bluster was bullshit.

He doesn't believe himself to be a hero, which is, of course, why he is one. He's a hero in every fiber of his being. It's why his failures weigh so heavily, cut so deep. He takes everything to heart; every life lost is another person he didn't save. It's absurd, and it drives Lightning crazy.

One of the women walks over and is reaching out to touch Snow, and that's something that Lightning just cannot tolerate. Not right now, when he's on the ragged edge. Snow's bluster may be bullshit, but his pride isn't, and he deserves the space and respect to keep it.

"I have a plan," Lightning declares, derailing the conversation about what they all witnessed the monsters do to Snow. "We're all getting out of here."

There's a quiet murmur through the group. Excited. Scared. Relieved.

"I have a question before you divulge the big plan, Light," Snow says, straightening up. "Where'd you get the rifle?" He pokes the rifle hanging off her back.

"It doesn't matter," she declares, not interested in thinking about the dead man right above their heads. That's one story she has no desire to relive, or ever share with anyone.

"Oh, I hate that answer," he says, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. "That means it definitely matters."

Ten minutes later, Lightning sits on the ground, picking at the cast on her arm, willing the tape to lift up despite it now being crusted in dried blood. Snow stares at her from a few feet away, radiating concern. The women have all made their way up the stairs, and Lightning had asked Snow to join them. He flat out refused to leave her alone down here in the dungeon, and she didn't have the stomach to argue.

It's not like she wants to be down here. She just can't do this up there with Jace's body on the floor where she'd bashed his brains in. Plus, she doesn't want to have that conversation with Snow.

Preferably ever.

Her hands are shaking; adrenaline, or terror, or nervous energy, or some combination of any or all of them has hysteria and panic bubbling inside her, and, much like a shaken up bottle of warm Champagne, she's about ready to blow her top and spray her emotions all over everything.

"This isn't working," she huffs, frustrated beyond all reason. She needs to get into this cast. Now! She pulls her shiv.

"What are you doing?" Snow asks, sounding panicked, grabbing for the shiv. She snatches her hand back and slips the shaking tip of the shiv into the cast.

"I'm cutting through the tape to get at what I need."

"May I? Please?" Snow asks and grabs her hand without waiting for an answer. She huffs, and he blows out a relieved breath. He doesn't mention her shaking hands, and for that, she's infinitely grateful. His hands are steady, his breathing calm, and she tries to match his slow, deep breaths.

She watches his long fingers scratch off the dried blood and thinks that he's way too calm about the fact that they're both covered in a layer of his blood. She recognizes that he's likely in shock, but there's nothing either of them can do about it until they get out of this slaughterhouse. So, she stays quiet and watches as Snow coaxes a corner of the tape up and then peels it away, slowly unwrapping and peeling off the bloodied top layer off the cast, balling it up and pitching it into a corner, before starting on the next layer.

"Here, if you need the knife-"

"Nope." He glances up at her and flashes her one of his crooked grins before resuming what he's doing. "You hang onto that," he says, using the calm, even tone he uses when speaking to small children. "I don't need it. Besides, knives are your thing, right?" The next layer is easier to peel away. His patience amazes her; he amazes her. How is he not as wound up as she is right now? "I just couldn't watch you cut into your own hand to get at whatever candy surprise you have in here."

As solicitations go, it's not exactly subtle, but there's no reason not to tell him. "It's Detacord."

"It's what now?" His brow furrows, but he doesn't look up or stop what he's doing. Another layer comes off, and the next layer looks cleaner. Almost like the whole nightmare in the pit never happened.

"Detonating Cord," she clarifies. The hand holding her wrist tightens to an almost painful degree, before relaxing again. He mumbles a quiet 'sorry' at her, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing gesture. She finishes: "It's explosives."

Snow stops what he's doing and stares at her, eyes round, eyebrows somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline. "Sazh packed your cast full of explosives?"

"Yeah." What's the problem? "And the detonators, too. And there's another shiv in there."

"Uh huh." He nods to himself. "I didn't realize Sazh was completely insane." He resumes his work, now taking even more care as he unwraps. He mumbles, "Now I know."

"The shiv is very sharp. Just be careful not to cut yourself."

"Says the woman with a bomb strapped to her wrist."

Wait. Is he mad?

"It's not armed." What's his problem? "The detonators aren't attached yet. That's why I need to get everything out. So I can arm the bomb!"

"Great. An unarmed bomb strapped to your wrist. I feel so much better now that I know you're running around with an unarmed bomb strapped to your body." He sighs and pulls out the shiv, shakes his head before handing it off to her and keeps peeling. "When we're out of this hell-hole, we are having words about all of this, Light."

"And won't that be fun!?" She can't think of anything she'd like to do less than argue with Snow about any of this. She decides to try and bring the subject back to the escape plan. "I set up a bunch of small bombs around the camp as a distraction. All are concentrated in the front so the hostages can slip out the back of the camp. There's a-"

"I saw it." He withdraws a bullet detonator, stares at it then pins her with a look that just screams 'seriously?' before resuming his treasure hunt. "The shadow under the cliffs. I half expected sniper fire from up there, but…nothing." She stares at him, remembering why she and he make such an amazing team. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," she says as he hands off another two detonators and a piece of the cord. "So, yeah, the shadow. That's where I figured we could cut through the fence," she retrieves the second shiv from the floor beside her, and locks the two together into shears. Sazh is a fucking genius. "Then slip out and follow the cliffs until we reached the Northern most entrance to Mah'Habara. We can wait for pick up there."

"Yeah," he pulls out the last bit of cord, "think that's it," he says, and starts smoothing the tape back down to put her cast back together again. "That makes sense but-"

"But I need to take out the garage first." Snow stops what he's doing, and stares at her with wide eyes. He's shaking his head 'no' as she says: "Which is why you're going to lead everyone out as I wire up the Skytank and blow it to hell."

"You're insane if you think I'm leaving you behind in this camp!" Snow says, completely irate. "No. That's not happening."

"Snow-"

"No!" He shouts. "It's not happening, Light. This place….no." He's shaking his head, talking faster. Panicking. "No! It's too much. No. I'm not…I'm not leaving here with you still in it. No!"

"I'm not going to be alone," she insists.

"Oh, right! You'll have Sazh's bombs and your creepy Eidolon here with you, too. Great! I feel much better!"

"This is ridiculous," she fires back, knows immediately it was the exact wrong thing to say to him.

"You're right! It is ridiculous. The idea that I would leave you behind in this camp full of sadistic rapists and murders is ridiculous!" He throws a quick glance at the trap door, and lowers his voice, clearly not wanting to upset the women upstairs. "It's not happening. Think of another plan!"

"There is no other plan," she says. This makes perfect sense. She's armed. She'll sneak out the front, set the bomb, and be right behind him. If anything goes wrong, she has a rifle and Odin. She's done more with less, and he knows it.

He's shaking his head, fists clenched, grinding his teeth so hard she half expects them to fracture under the pressure.

"Call that creepy-ass Eidolon right now!"

"What?"

"No," he declares. It's like a record skipping, the needle just not able to find the groove that allows it to play the rest of the song. "If I'm leaving you behind with this creepy Eidolon as your only backup, I want to see him!"

"That's not how it works! You know that's not how it works! He might just kill you if I just randomly call him because you're aggravating me!"

"Good! If I'm dead, then I don't have to leave this camp knowing you're still in it!"

"Don't even joke about that!"

"Who's joking?" He drops his head into his hands, yanks off his hat and hurls it across the room. She watches it sail away, astonished by his anger. "Call him. Now!"

Lightning leans forward and takes Snow's hands into hers.

"Snow-"

He pulls his hands away from her and holds them up in a warding gesture. "Forget it! Either you're insane, or your opinion of me is lower than I ever dreamed-"

"What-"?

"-whichever it is, I don't care. I'm not leaving here with you still in this camp. NO!"

"Snow-"

"Stop using the voice," he accuses. Then points at her. "And the eyes." Then lifts his hands and holds them up and away. "And the hands. Stop!"

"Snow-"

"I'd do anything for you, Lightning," he says, like it's the simplest truth in the world; like it's not a devastating declaration of devotion. He may as well have gut punched her. "Anything! You know that. When that woman asked if I was yours? The answer to that is yes. But you can't ask me to do this. You don't understand. You can't know. I don't want you to know. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? I can't leave you here. Don't ask me to do it. Figure out another plan. Please. Don't ask me to leave you in this place."

Sometime during his diatribe, Snow shifted to his knees before her, took both of her hands in his and pulled them to his chest, and Lightning realizes that he's literally on his knees begging her. Every warning siren in Lightning's head is blaring. Nothing about this is normal, or okay.

Snow is always overprotective, and he often expresses it as anger. He puffs up, blows his top, they go over the plan again, adjust if necessary, and he concedes. He hates when any of them take what he considers unnecessary risks - that's his job, according to him - but he always comes around in the end. It's not that she doesn't understand that Snow's angry outbursts are expressions of fear and concern; it's just that she's used to those. He gets angry. They argue. They agree. The end.

This isn't that. It's desperation with a side of horror, and she absolutely cannot deny him.

"Okay." He sags in relief and presses his forehead against hers. She cups his cheek and waits, letting him pull himself together. He's trembling all over. Terrified, she realizes, and Lightning wants nothing more than to murder every one of the monsters in this place for doing this to him.

"Thank you," he whispers, and exhales a shaky breath.

They have a big problem now, though. She's agreed to his request because she simply couldn't do otherwise. Snow is so…raw, and hurt, and damaged right now, that she can't imagine doing anything to make it worse. And the truth is that Snow may be overprotective, but he knows goddamn well how good she is, just as she knows how good he is. The two of them make an excellent team because they each trust the other to do their part, and both are able to adapt to the other's needs in combat. No talking required.

The closest she's ever come to that kind of symbiosis is with Odin, and he's an immortal, magical Esper sworn to be her Eidolon and aid her in her struggles. Those are some big shoes to fill, but Snow is nothing if not dedicated.

So if he's asking her not to do this, it's because he needs it. And what sort of partner - what sort of friend - would she be if she disregarded his needs?

Snow may be a sappy romantic, but that's got nothing to do with battle strategy. So yeah, whatever feelings Snow has for her, they're not new, and he's never allowed them to interfere with their strategies and tactics in battle. Romantic or not, Snow is a Warrior, nose to toes, top to bottom, inside and out, full stop. He's her partner on the battlefield, and trusts her to take care of herself and him. She knows that.

So, when tells her he can't do something, he can't. It's not hyperbole. He wouldn't risk their lives, and the lives of the hostages, over simple sentiment. She understands because, if the situation were reversed, she couldn't leave him here either. Not after what they did to him…

She made some promises to herself while he was gasping out his final few breaths, and right now, she's considering which ones she might want to keep tonight. Someone needs to pay for the way Snow trembles against her; every shuddering breath he exhales against her neck just piles on exponential levels of interest.

She and Odin are going to extract repayment in blood and pain. They'll blow this place right into the next life, and then anyone unlucky enough to survive, is going to get a Good Night kiss from Zantetsuken or her Edged Carbine.

Of course, that's the fly in the ointment, isn't it? The bombs. Now that she's thrown out the only plan they have, she needs to figure something else out quick because: "We don't have much time to come up with another plan."

Snow pulls away, but doesn't go far. He takes her hand off his face and kisses it, then sits back down. He's steadier now; more like himself. "Why not?"

"Because I asked for a day, and there's maybe six hours left, I think."

"I know I'm going to hate this, and really regret asking: six hours until what?"

He is going to hate this. She wanted to leave this part out entirely, because it wasn't relevant when they'd had a plan that was going to get them out of here with hours to spare. But now….

"Sazh is going to bomb the place."

Snow looks like he's waiting for the rest of the answer. When it finally clicks, he says, "Wait! Are you saying Sazh is going to blow up the camp while we're still in it?"

"To be fair, you weren't supposed to be here, Snow." Whatever fear lurked behind Snow's eyes is subsumed by a tidal wave of outrage.

'Oh! So, he was just going to blow up the camp while you were in it? I feel much better now!" He stands up and starts pacing. "You know, I said earlier that I didn't realize Sazh was insane? That was a joke. I'm not joking anymore. The fact that he's willing to blow this place up whether you're in it or not-"

"I told him to do it."

"And how is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"If I couldn't get out, I wouldn't want to be trapped here." Snow's face turns beet red, which can't be good for him. He lost too much blood, and she's still worried about the damage she knows his heart sustained. He looks like he's going to explode.

"I can't believe you came into this camp alone, with no back up-"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't even!" he warns, pointing at her. "I didn't just…hand myself to them. I didn't know what was going on at first, and when I figured it out. When I saw…" he stops, shakes his head. "I thought…" he puts his face in his hands and blows out a shaky breath. "I thought you were in here."

And there it is.

She's not surprised; just shattered.

"I thought you were in here, and I couldn't…" he stops, then pins her with his gaze. "I couldn't." He starts pacing again, and she's afraid he's going to fall over. "Anyone can get got, Light. All it takes is one bad day. No. One bad moment. You know that!" She does. "One of them got a lucky shot off. They clipped me." Oh, God. They'd shot him. She didn't even notice the bullet wound. She feels tears burn her eyes, but she can't start crying now. This isn't about her feelings, after all. "They got a lucky shot in, and then piled on me when I was hit. A couple of minutes, and it was all over. Drop the curtain; goodnight, nurse." He stops moving but doesn't look at her when he says, "The only reason they didn't kill me right then is because they like to play with their food."

"For Fuck Sake, Snow-"

"What? Think I'm kidding? Ask them. They had front row seats," he points to the room above them. "Or better yet, don't! Just trust me."

"I do trust you!"

"Could've fooled me," he mumbles, then shakes his head.

"Look, there weren't a lot of options, Snow." He barks out a bitter laugh, but says nothing. "Sazh didn't want to risk me coming in. He just wanted to bomb the place and neutralize the threat." Snow covers his face with both hands at that. "Hope wanted to come in with me. Threatened to follow me in."

Snow whips around, goes so pale she's worried that he's going to pass out. "NO!"

"Of course, 'no'," she consoles. "But that's my point. This is my back up. They trust me to do my part-"

"The fact that you think this is about me not trusting you is just beyond-"

"No! That's not what I mean. I mean, I came in here to get these women out, like you. I had only a vague plan, like you. Unlike you, I had a fail state contingency. That's all it is. I didn't want to be stuck here if-"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up." He sits on the floor and drops his head between his knees.

"I'm sorry, Snow." She rests her hand on his back, feels the tremors beneath his skin. "I'm so sorry."

She waits him out, lets him get control of his breathing. He rubs his forehead, then drags his fingers through his tangled, matted hair. She hears hairs tearing and she takes his hands in hers to stop the self-destructive behavior. He looks at their hands for a moment, then meets her eyes.

He looks like he's reached a decision. Lightning can't help but worry that she's going to hate it.

"We're going to get out of here," he whispers, lifting her right hand to his lips. He kisses the healing fracture in an echo of the night that started this whole mess. "And then you and I are going to have words about this plan of yours. All of it. From the bomb in your cast, to the countdown clock on your ass." He drops her hands, and pulls himself up off the floor again. "But for now, just let's do it."

"Wait-"

"I already know that you're going to make me leave you here. I don't know why I even bothered."

"Snow-!"

"No. It is what it is." He marches over and retrieves his hat. "Let's just get the fuck out of this place."

"I don't want to fight with you about this."

"Yeah. We never want to fight, Light, but it's all we ever do. Somehow." She wants to argue the point, which, of course, would only prove his point. "You're right. Someone needs to lead the hostages out. Someone needs to set a distraction, and we need to neutralize that tank, or we're going nowhere. I'm in no shape to do that." The admission costs him, and she feels sick. Lightning likes to win, and usually gets her way with Snow, but not like this. "Even if I were, that wouldn't be my bag. We both know that of the two of us, you're faster, lighter on your feet. I'm better equipped to protect the hostages. That's who we are. Let's just do it."

He turns away from her and climbs out of the darkness, leaving her behind.

TBC...

End Note:Did you notice where I smashed the fourth wall? Yes/No?
Detonating Cord is real, and is actually really what I had Sazh pack her cast with way back in Chapter 8. Here's what it is:

Detonating Cord: In fuse. Detonating cord, also called Cordeau and Primacord, is a hollow cord filled with an explosive material. It is fired by a detonator and is capable of initiating the detonation of certain other explosives at any number of points and in any desired pattern.

Detonating cord is a thin, flexible plastic tube usually filled with pentaerythritol tetranitrate. With the PETN exploding at a rate of approximately 6400 m/s, any common length of detonation cord appears to explode instantaneously

Remember that Sazh and Bartholomew are working together to build a world. Well, detonator cords are used in controlled demolition, or in quarries, etc. That's where the idea came from.

The next chapter should be the big showdown. Then there's the payoff chapter to come, sit tight. So, it's one or two chapters, then the finish. I didn't expect to actually get this far in a week, and I doubt I'll be able to tear through three more chapters in another week. I may split the next chapter in half. We'll see.

If you like it, let me know. If you don't like it, let me know.