[FFXIII] Apokalupsis Eschaton 5/?

[shamera]

Title: Apokalupsis Eschaton
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII
Character/Pairing(s): Lightning, Snow, Sazh, Hope, Team NORA... hell, everyone. --very light Maqui/Hope
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Post-game, plot-heavy. Not so fluffy this time, guys. Action/adventure, mystery, family, friendship.
Summary: Ten million people decided to remain on Cocoon, until one day they all disappeared without a trace, leaving residents on Gran Pulse bewildered and terrified.



Maybe it was the surprise of hearing that voice again, but it took Maqui a few seconds to scramble out of his comfortable position slouched over his chair and reach for the other half of the transmitter he had given Hope. His line had been free from transmissions for so long that the blond had worried, even knowing he wasn’t supposed to just call and check up on them.

“Hey!” He called out, pressing his face against the metal in relief. “I’m here. What’s up? How did you manage to get the device from your suit? Hey, did you shut down your other comms? I’m not getting much of a signal from you otherwise, and I was worried-”

There was a breathy laugh on the other side, and Maqui immediately stopped his flow of words to hear it.

“I’m okay.” Hope responded, voice quieter through the speaker, and Maqui had to press his ear against the device, frowning as he realized something must have been blocking the signal somewhat, because he was sure he tuned it to be crystal clear to catch the slightest whisper. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get through to you, though.”

“Of course you’d get through!” Maqui protested, pitching his voice louder in case Hope had just as hard a time hearing him as he had hearing the other teen. “I made these, didn’t I? And I said you’d be able to reach me no matter what.”

“Yeah.” There was a quiet fondness in the word that nearly stopped Maqui’s breath. “I just- I couldn’t get through on the other systems, and I wasn’t sure this one would work-” There was another voice behind Hope’s, elevated and rushed, fighting to get through. It didn’t sound like anyone Maqui was familiar with, which made him frown and lean forward on the desk, even if it would have no effect on getting closer to hear them.

“Who’s that?” He asked instead, straining to hear.

“That’s-” Hope sounded strained. “Lieutenant Mosley.”

In the background, Maqui could barely make out words of ‘it works?’ and ‘get me through to Lieutenant Amodar right away!’.

“So you found him, then?” That was a good thing at least, since he was aware that was part of their mission, but somehow it didn’t sound like a success when he reviewed Hope’s tone and Mosley’s attitude. Shouldn’t they be using the official comms to contact Amodar? Not to mention, he would have assumed that Miss Lightning would have been the one to do it.

A glance at his monitoring systems proclaimed the all well on the suit communications.

“Yeah. Listen, Maqui.” The voice in the background sounded more agitated as their conversation went on, and Hope hurried to speak. “I can’t seem to get in contact with Light and the others through the suits, and this is the only thing that works so far. Mosley and I are... well, we’re kind of stranded somewhere, and we need to get in contact with the others.” He sounded guilty. “Is... I mean, I know that this wasn’t made to something like that, but- is it possible to patch us through?”

Stranded? Immediately, his imagination took off at a disturbing pace, trying to figure out just how Hope had managed to get in contact with him in the first place, how the comms device in the suit could have been damaged, and how they could possibly be stranded.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” He asked, imagining how Hope might have fallen somehow in the gaping holes that Cocoon’s buildings were bound to have after the fall, how maybe he had damaged his suit and that means he’d have been hurt which was bad enough even knowing that Hope could heal himself, but knowing that if Mosley was there, Hope wouldn’t do anything of the sort in case anyone found out about the magic still...

“We’re fine.” Hope insisted, and even the voice in the background dropped off briefly. “Not hurt, I promise. Just... stranded. And in need of help.”

“You know I’d help.” Maqui confirmed, already reaching to interrupt the communications signal up on Cocoon. The way he had created his systems, it would be a call to Lightning that she could choose to answer or not, but as long as she didn’t answer, the call would continue. The device he had created for Hope was on a separate line, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t find a way to up the volume so that the other teams would be able to hear it. That way, he’d be a part of the conversation as well. “Hang tight, I’ll get you over to Lightning.”

Predictably, it took nearly a minute before Lightning answered, sounding irritable and stoic both. “Maqui, what do you want?”

By then, he had found a better speaker to connect to the device for Hope, and cringed back a little at her tone. Man, she really didn’t like him..

“Light!” Hope’s voice was louder and clearer now, and even Maqui could hear the sharply drawn breath on Lightning’s side.

“Hope. Where are you?” Her tone softened considerably, prompting Maqui to make a face at how biased he found that. It wasn’t fair, really. “Are you with Maqui?”

“No, my suit’s comms wouldn’t work so I asked Maqui to help out and-”

“Miss Farron.” The other voice interrupted. “This is Lieutenant Mosley. I have an urgent message for Lieutenant Amodar. If I may, I’d like to be patched through immediately.”

There was a split second pause on the line, before Lightning instructed. “Patch him through, Maqui.”

Damn it. He had been so sure that if the conversation had continued, no one would have noticed that he was still on the line so he could actually listen in...

But she hadn’t said anything about him getting off the line, so Maqui reached up to flick a switch that would signal Lieutenant Amodar as well. “Sure thing, Miss Lightning.”

It was mere seconds as Lieutenant Amodar picked up, affirming his presence curiously.

“Lieutenant.” Mosley stated with respect, enough for Maqui to understand that despite them having the same title, Amodar had more power than the man would admit to. “I’ve found the residents of Cocoon. They’re all safe and accounted for.”

“What?” Maqui exclaimed unintentionally, learning closer to the systems. “You serious?”

He pulled back just a second later, though, red as he realized he had unwittingly interrupted the conversation despite Amodar never having assumed otherwise about Maqui being on the line.

Mosley sounded disapproving enough. “Yes. While I’ve not made a headcount, so to say, there is no panic and there are no unaccounted for persons.”

“And where would a populace of nearly ten million have disappeared to?” Amodar asked.

There was a brief silence before Mosley answered, “That would be a complicated answer, Lieutenant.”

“And I’d say that I have the time to hear it, Mosley.”

“But I may not have the time to explain it.” There was a moment where Maqui could hear Hope’s voice in the background, not the exact words but definitely the protest in his tone. “There is a virtual reality interface resting atop Cocoon. The activation of it drew the populace within a reality of their choosing, where they’ve given twenty four hours to decide whether they want to remain or go back to the lives they had.”

A virtual reality- had he been drinking, Maqui might have spat his drink out all over his machines. Virtual reality. Was that even possible? He knew of illusions, but that was fal’Cie power. The best that humanity had managed to imitate was a mere augmented reality... perhaps holograms, still looking like something computerized. They were years before coming up with things like... like virtual reality or artificial intelligence. Anything like that. That was mere science fiction.

“Another world?” Lightning’s voice was incredulous.

“A virtual one.” Mosley interjected. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Yes!” Maqui spoke up, already trying to come up with how that might work. “That’s like saying you discovered time travel or... or that the Pulsian myths were real! We don’t have the technology for virtual reality yet- it’d be at least three hundred years before anyone could pull something like that off!”

It was a moment before Mosley’s voice appeared back on the line, this time tense and agitated. “Is there really a need for civilians outside of this mission on the line, Lieutenant Amodar?”

“Our current lack of resources require affiliations from means you may not be accustomed to.” Amodar said diplomatically. “Please continue, Lieutenant Mosley.”

There was a leaden silence before the words continued. “I know that while it may raise questions as to where the bodies of the populace may have disappeared to, I have been given to understand that the console is powered by the intake of physical mass as fuel. There is, however, a twenty-four hour grace period to allow a person to decide whether they want to continue in the virtual reality or whether they want to go back to their lives on the real Cocoon.”

“So what you’re saying,” Amodar spoke carefully into the feed. “Is that we’re already too late to save the inhabitants of Cocoon since their bodies have been... burned to sustain the virtual world they’re living in?”

“That would be correct, Lieutenant.”

Maqui found himself gaping at the conversation, feeling almost as if he couldn’t fully comprehend what they were talking about just yet. Virtual reality was unbelievable enough by itself, but to believe that everyone was gone; that the entire populace of Cocoon had managed to up and kill themselves rather than live in the real world and face their own problems, was something beyond unbelievable. That was near ten million people.

...More than half of their remaining population who just couldn’t handle the world without the safeguard of fal’Cie and their old comforts. Was reality really so hard to handle? So cruel to live in? Maqui could understand how hard things had become especially since he was part of the population that had to cope with the sudden disappearance of all the comforts he had once taken for granted; who had ever known that the real sun would be harsh enough to burn their skin? That growing food as a hobby was much harder to sustain when growing food now had to be a way of life?

It was frightening, he understood, to suddenly know that all your once endless supplies were now in danger of being gone forever and that the once safety Cocoon held had been completely shattered because there would be no more fal’Cie to brush away the hurts and provide every resource possible to ensure their well-being and happiness.

It was harder still to comprehend the death toll, to know that everyone had lost someone they held dear. Some people just couldn’t wrap their mind around it and tried to continue their lives on Cocoon as if the fall hadn’t happened at all. Some stayed in grief, and others still, because of fear of the world underneath.

Surely out of those numbers, there would have been a good percentage who would rather live in the real world?

“Lieutenant Mosley,” Amodar continued, voice soft. “How long have you stayed in that virtual world?”

Mosley’s voice was nonchalant as he responded, “I’d have four hours left, Lieutenant.”

There was silence on the line.

“And why have you stayed there?” Lightning’s tone was sharp. “Your mission has ended, sir. The objective has been reached. Perhaps you should exit with Mr. Estheim in tow.”

Busted. Despite not being the target of that tone, Maqui winced sympathetically. Hope was in so much trouble, wasn’t he? Mr. Estheim, indeed.

“That would be problem, Serg-- Miss Farron. I’m afraid as the other residents have willingly forgotten the way out of this simulation, there appears to be no exits to this world.”

What?

-

The communications tent opened within minutes of the end of their transmission, and Maqui startled to attention as Lieutenant Amodar walked in, face grim. The soldier waved away his clumsy attempt at standing, though, especially since Maqui had covered his workarea with dismantled devices and wires.

“I was informed Team NORA had no respect for authority.” Amodar said rather jovially, especially considering what they had just been talking about minutes prior. “I don’t expect any of you to suddenly develop some in my presence.”

The blond boy grimaced, and then chuckled weakly. He wasn’t surprised that’s what Lightning would have told her commanding officer, even if it wasn’t exactly true. They just didn’t like being told what to do, that was all.

“Sir.” Maqui intoned respectfully instead, understanding that he was on this mission under the charge of Amodar. Anything goes wrong, and he would be pulled out, especially as he wasn’t military personnel or was he part of the two teams on the surface of Cocoon. And he wanted- no, he needed to be a part of this mission when Snow and Lebreau and Gadot were up there. When he still had to prove himself to Sazh and to Miss Lightning, and especially when it seemed as if Hope was stuck in some kind of virtual world along with some jackass of a CO.

Despite their abilities, Team NORA wasn’t military. All they had to offer were their own strengths and abilities, and Maqui was a genius at mechanics, if he did say so himself.

“I take it you already know what I’m about to ask of you.” Amodar said, leaning against a table already staggered under the weight of electronics. “I know it may be an impossible task, but I’ve been informed the lot of you are rather good at pulling miracles from nowhere.”

Miracles. Like surviving the Purge and managing to get at least half of the people there out safe and sound. Like surviving the attack on Eden. Like Snow surviving his Focus.

Like four hours left before the gap closed between a as of yet theoretical world and a dead planet in the sky. Mosley had, apparently, been the top communications officer in this division of the Guardian Corps, and with him stuck up there, it was up to Maqui now to figure out how to get them out.

Them. He knew he should have argued harder against Hope going up on the mission, should have thrown a tantrum and insisted on going with the other boy or at the very least- no, there was a million things he could have done differently the previous day and even this morning, but that was over and done with. Right now he had four hours left to solve this puzzle, and he couldn’t waste it on thinking up what might have been.

“I’d like to investigate this device myself.” Maqui said, as polite as possible. He needed to do so, actually, mostly because no one had the slightest idea how in the world people managed to get transported into some sort of virtual world (a virtual one! It still blew his mind, and he would have liked to savor the thought if only he hadn’t a time limit), and if there was just a simple button that could be pressed to reverse the process and get them back.

“I’m afraid there simply isn’t enough time to get you up there to fiddle.” Amodar responded, waving off the request. “Now the team up there should be able to get all sorts of video for you if that’s what you need to recreate a holographic model of it, but without one of them- well, we can’t activate the teleportation devices on our own.”

Without one of the former l’Cie, Maqui knew Amodar meant. Cie’th Stone teleportation devices only worked for those whom the stones felt a connection with; who had shared the same pains and sorrows as them. Only for those who shared the same magic.

Magic, Maqui had learned several months ago amongst the beauty of the Sulyya Springs, is a devastating power. Even more devastating was the thought that there might have been people before who had been randomly gifted with magic, and then cursed with a task no one alive would want to do. For those people, how much destruction did their rage cause? So much destruction had been suffered on Cocoon just from people who wanted to help...

“I can’t help if I can’t even figure out what’s going on.” Maqui insisted. “This- this thing is hard enough as it is, especially since you want me to solve a problem that shouldn’t be technologically possible at the present age. I mean, who knows the first thing about virtual reality? This tech is way more advanced than anything anyone’s ever seen, and I’m supposed to have four hours to solve this?”

Although to be honest, he didn’t care all that much about the four hour limit. More like he cared about the next twenty hours and what that would mean for Hope. But that was a selfish thought, and one that Maqui wasn’t going to acknowledge until those four hours have at least passed.

Amodar gave him a sharp look, as if he could see exactly what Maqui was thinking and didn’t approve.

“Then you’ll have to make do.” The words were sharper than what Maqui had come to expect out of the normally jovial man. “Transport would take far too long and by the time we find the device, there may not be entire time to come up with a method for retrieval.”

“But Snow’s up there with the device, isn’t he?” Maqui pressed, knowing that it couldn’t be that hard to find it if there was already a team surrounding that strange thing. “You know where it is!”

“Then get whatever information you can off Mr. Villiers,” the lieutenant suggested. “And make it a quick one. I have another team working on this, and while I still think your contribution would be invaluable, I can not hand this jurisdiction to you. You’re not military, and on top of that, still considered a child.”

Maqui should have probably been angered by that statement (he had a feeling Hope might have bristled and grit his teeth), but he couldn’t find it within himself to be angry. Amodar was right: Maqui wasn’t Guardian Corps, and by all accounts this was a Guardian Corps operation that drew in the help of the former l’Cie. He was just... that extra baggage that came with using that group of peoples.

But he would be baggage that would prove indispensable.

“Yes, sir.” He finally relented, shoulders slumping just a bit. Four hours. That meant he didn’t have the time to argue, and Amodar knew it.

The lieutenant took a few moments to ensure that Maqui’s statement was sincere before he nodded. “Good. I’ll leave you to it, then, and check up in ten minutes. See if you can’t get something useful off the team we have up there.”

Useful. Right, as if he could be useful when he was just stuck on the fringe of the situation and then expected to work miracles. But Maqui didn’t grumble until the lieutenant had left the tent, when he slumped down in his chair and buried his face in his arms momentarily to groan in self-pity. That lasted only a few seconds, though, before he sat up straight again and stretched quickly before flicking on the channel to the suits up on Cocoon.

He had work to do, and a lot of people to impress.

“Snow?” He called out as he got to the channel, keeping it a private line. Better to get the details off the blond than to risk Lightning’s wrath.

It took a second for Snow to respond, voice strained, “Hey kid, what’s up?”

“I need to know all the details about that device up there.” Maqui said, completely business. “Everything you can tell me, no matter how strange or normal it may be. Materials, shine, wires, energy, feeling; anything.”

-

They had kept the lines open until there was nothing more that could possibly be said, and then Lieutenant Mosley flicked off the primitive communications device, finally casting Hope a speculative glance.

“Good work,” the man admitted, sounding almost reluctant to do so. “What made you think that this transmission would be able to get through?”

Hope winced, not wanting to explain but knowing that the other would hound him for any unshared information. “I found crystal dust on your suit... it was just a theory.”

“A theory that the crystal would amplify the signal’s power?”

“It was something a friend told me.” Just that morning, and Hope wasn’t one to normally forget things like that. It had just been a... stressful day so far.

Mosley eyed the glowing green crystal clutched protectively in Hope’s hands, and Hope had to fight his instincts to put it completely out of view. It contained far too many questions that he didn’t want to answer, and was rather sure he wasn’t supposed to answer. Lying, however, would be counter-productive to finding a way out of this place.

“That doesn’t look like a piece broken off from the pillar.” Mosley inquired casually.

“It’s not.” Hope’s tone was terse, and he struggled to find another subject to diffuse the situation. “Should we get to looking around here to see if there are exit points as well? Since we should do something from this side to help and all...”

Mosley gave him a sharp look, but then nodded. “Be back within the hour. Lieutenant Amodar wants regular check-ups from us to ensure we’re still here and aware of our situation.”

Aware being the definitive term, since it seemed like everyone else in this world was just blindly living out their lives. Hope nodded in response and made a quick get-away, taking the bulky comms device seeing as the soldier had no objections to that.

The scientists and soldiers guarding the entrance to the underground areas didn’t give him a second glance this time, perhaps now used to his comings and goings. The bright yet cool sunlight of the city didn’t give him any relief from the anxiety stemming through his veins, though, knowing that despite being able to establish communications with the outside world, it had only raised questions that he couldn’t answer. Perhaps he could claim that the crystal was a relic he kept from his l’Cie days, although he’d be hard-pressed to explain how he managed to bring it here.

A good luck item? He could try and claim such, but Hope had a feeling that Mosley wouldn’t be buying the explanation.

A good several minutes of walking to clear his head found him at a popular viewpoint above the shops, overlooking a good portion of the city. The sun was bright overhead, advertisements flickering through the many screens and against the side of buildings. People looked tiny from up there, and Hope leaned cautiously against the chrome railings, pocket heavy with his Eidolon crystal as he fiddled nonsensically with the comms device Maqui had given him.

He knew that he shouldn’t be bothering anyway, especially when it was likely Maqui was busy trying to figure out a way to get him out of this place he had accidentally stumbled into, as well as everyone else... and that thought made him press his palm against his eyes tightly. So much for not being a burden- he seemed the most talented when it came to getting into trouble. It could have been amusing, that someone constantly trying hard to not get into trouble always was, had it not been for the fact that it was happening to him.

Maybe Mosley had been right in that he should have stayed behind, but it certainly didn’t feel like who he was. Hope couldn’t stand to be left behind, he knew this, and he knew that others who knew him knew it as well.

He tried to imagine it- staying behind because it was what was best for him while everyone else went off and one by one disappeared... how would that have felt?

Horrible.

He didn’t want to think about that at all.

It didn’t matter what possible good he’d be able to do, he didn’t want to be the one staying behind and doing it alone. In fact, he couldn’t help but shudder just thinking about it.

If that had happened... would he resign himself to living in this kind of virtual world? Where he wouldn’t be left alone? He leaned over the railings to gaze at the happy people shopping around underneath, so carefree in their steps. No need to worry about the next day or what it might bring, because everything was provided for already. Their loved ones would be waiting at home for them, and they would get to complain about the mundane things: school and relationships and the next exciting thing that came their way.

Hope didn’t complain about school anymore, not when he couldn’t seem to find that sympathetic ear who might not look at him differently afterward. He had an image to live up to, and thousands of eyes on him waiting for him to do something wrong and prove that l’Cie just couldn’t be redeemed.

How easy would it be to fall back into the lifestyle he had back on Cocoon if given the chance?

He wasn’t considering it, not really. His dad was still waiting for him, after all, and Light would be so disappointed. Everyone would be. Not to mention, he wasn’t the type to just... give up like that. He couldn’t, not after what he had been through. That would just make everything worthless somehow.

But it didn’t mean that he couldn’t think about it.

“Hope?”

He startled, and then froze a moment, not expecting anyone who would know his name here. Especially one who sounded just like-

“There you are. You know, you’re not supposed to just run off without telling me like that, young man. I’ve been looking for you all day, you know. Just leaving a note on the table is the worst way to say you’re going out. I thought you might have been kidnapped or something. And you even left your phone!”

Can’t be kidnapped if I left a note. The response was on the tip of his tongue, cheerful and smooth with repetition. It was a familiar response to a familiar phrase, but one that he hadn’t thought to ever hear again. Hope couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the crowd below as a shadow fell over him, and someone else leaned against the railing next to him, gazing at him fondly.

“...Well?” Nora Estheim asked, obviously expecting the familiar answer from her son. She shifted in concern as Hope failed to respond, and moved closer. “Hope? What’s wrong?”

It felt too soon, because he wasn’t ready for something like this; hadn’t expected that this could be thrown in his face. It had only been a few months (half a year already, his mind whispered), and he still hadn’t gotten over the gap that had been left in his life. He doubted that he ever would. But with her so close, and right there next to him...

He turned around and reached to wrap his arms around her waist in one smooth move, heart thumping as he felt her wrap her around him in confusion, there and solid. She was wearing the same yellow sweater she favored, the scent of flowers and home surrounding him as he felt fingers card through his hair.

“Hope? Honey, what’s wrong?” She tightened her grip in comfort, making soothing noises. “What happened?”

He hadn’t hugged her goodbye; had been far too submerged in his own problems and his own self-pity and despair at being caught up in the Purge that he had just sat there while she walked away. In fact, he hadn’t made a move to hug her at all the past year since he had thought he’d grown too old for hugs, making sure it was her who assaulted him with hugs and kisses before he had to leave anywhere and not the other way around. Had whinged, even, whenever she insisted on seeing him off to school still and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Whinged, but never rejected any of the displays of affection, and he knew that she understood that whenever she laughed at him for squirming away. She must have understood every time he insisted on doing his homework in the kitchen to keep her company, and whenever he would laze in the same room like a cat while she was cleaning, unwilling to leave the house and ‘spend time with friends’ like she insisted.

“-Nothing,” He breathed out, voice far thicker than he intended it to be, burying his face against her collar. “Everything’s okay now. I just missed you.”

It had been hard to believe this world was a virtual reality before. It was so much harder now.

He could still feel the weight of the bulky comms device in his hands, though, even as he closed his eyes as he tried to pretend, just for a moment, that it didn’t exist. Just for a second, and then he’d return to reality. Just another second.

“I thought you were too old for public hugs.” Nora chastised, although there was only humor in her voice. She rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades and at the nape of his neck, her fingers cool from the outside air. “Not that this isn’t a pleasant surprise, but I would have hardly thought you’d miss me so much after half a day.”

Hope relaxed in her embrace, half afraid to let go and half afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let go if he didn’t do so quickly. “It felt like a lot longer than that.”

He could feel the faint tremble of her laughter, and then she drew back just slightly enough to cup his face. “Okay, okay. I’m the best mom ever, and that’s why you missed me so much, right? I get it. So anything else happen that I missed? Because best mom or not, which I always am, you don’t usually react like that.”

“Mom.” He echoed, fighting with everything he had to not let his expression crumble in front of her. It didn’t seem to matter, though, as her eyes narrowed and her expression grew more serious as she waited for him to say what he needed to. That was just like her, though, to always see right through him. But this wasn’t real, and Hope didn’t know if this world had managed to draw on his memories or just took a list of everyone who had died during the fall of Cocoon- but he didn’t care. “Mom, I missed you. I haven’t seen you in-” Six months, one week, three days “-too long.”

He had meant to tell her. He really had: that this world wasn’t real and that she had died, but he was so glad to see her again because he had missed her so much, but it felt like the words didn’t want to come out of his mouth. He couldn’t say that when she was smiling at him like that, concerned and solid right there.

“Now I know you’re up to something.” She said with a smile, although it wavered a bit when he attempted to smile back at her. If anything, she looked more worried than joking. “What are you up to? I’d ask if you were in trouble of some sort, but you never are, are you? So what is it? If you want out on the Bodhum trip, you’re not getting it, mister. That’s a family thing and you don’t get to wiggle your way out of it.”

Hope’s smile froze at the mention. Even if it wasn’t real, even if it would never happen- “Mom... let’s not go to Bodhum this year. Why can’t we go to Nautilus or something? Somewhere else. There’s not much to do at Bodhum anyway, right?”

“Oh, Hope.” Nora let out a breath, clearly exasperated. “That’s the entire point. Not much to do forces us to spend time together as a family, right? Well, if forces your dad to come along with us on boring trips while we do our best to annoy him to death.” She smiled faintly, fondly as her gaze unfocused a moment at the mention of her husband, soft and fond. “It’s been too long since we’ve been able to do that.”

Hope shook his head. “He’s not going to make it, anyway.”

“Don’t say that! He booked time off from work, remember? We-” And Hope could remember that it wasn’t a we so much as he had been standing in a corner scowling and trying not to draw attention to himself while his mom had confronted his dad, “bothered him about it, remember? He called and ensured he’d have the time to spend with us weeks ago.”

They had, which had been the most disappointing thing, although Hope still wasn’t sure whether he had first been disappointed or relieved when Bartholomew had called and said he couldn’t make it anymore. Relations between them had been so strained at that point...

Nora sighed. “I know you don’t approve, honey, but he’s your father and he’s honestly trying to do his best for you. For both of us. Is that what this is about?”

“About what?” The sullen response was automatic, and he shook his head afterward. “No! That’s not what this is about at all. I just think it’d be a nicer idea to go somewhere else, you know? Anywhere but Bodhum; at least for this year.”

Nora made a thoughtful noise, but Hope could tell that she hadn’t conceded at all. “Let’s discuss this at home. It’s not exactly the best argument to be having outside.”

That was true, but- home. He wanted to go home. He couldn’t. It was like a bucket of cold water to know that, and to have it offered to him all over again. He could go home if he chose to. It wouldn’t even be hard, especially since it was his mom smiling in front of him and offering to take him home. He could go and honestly, who would be able to blame him?

But he wasn’t the type to give up; couldn’t give him, actually, even if he had to cling to barbed strands. Even if all the world was against him.

“I- can’t.” And damned if that wasn’t the hardest admission he had ever spoken. “I can’t go home again, mom.”

She dropped her hands from his face, “Don’t be so melodramatic, Hope. Whatever you might have said to you father, I’m sure he doesn’t hold it against you.”

His father. And that’s what it call came down to again, wasn’t it? Him having disagreed with his father on whether or not he should come up here, disagreeing on whether or not he should stay that safe child and blend in with the background. He wanted to please his dad, he really did. But it just wasn’t the type of life he could live. He could do as much as possible, but in the end...

Could he really be left behind?

Mosley seemed to think that he should have stayed behind. Thought that he should have been the obedient child and not disobey his father, and that children had to keep themselves safe. He was supposed to prove himself worthy of the name he had been given, but how was he supposed to do that when he wasn’t allowed to go out and take risks? When he wasn’t allowed to do anything to prove himself?

Or perhaps this was the type of thing that he was supposed to prove. That without finding himself in trouble, he would have to reject what made him happy. Such as going with his mother.

“Mom.” The words felt bitter in his mouth, and he kept a tight grip on her soft sweater, watching the shift of her emotions. “This place isn’t real. You’re not real. And I want to go home with you, I really do. But I... can’t. You’re right. Everything you ever said, especially about dad. He always had the best for us in mind, and that’s why I can’t go.”

Bartholomew Estheim had spent the previous half year both mourning for his departed wife and doing his very best to take care of a son he didn’t quite know anymore. ‘The future for the children’, Mosley had quoted, and Hope had realized that despite their unspoken promise to stay within each others’ lives, he hadn’t made the time to listen to any of his father’s speeches. It had been hard enough trying to wait in an empty house and thinking bitterly that for a father who wanted to reunite with his son, he sure wasn’t spending enough time trying to do it.

Mending broken bonds, Hope came to a realization, was a two way street. It wasn’t just about him playing the good child and doing what his father told him, but maybe trying to understand things from his point of view.

“Honey. You’re not making any sense.” Nora placed a cool hand on his forehead in concern. “Do you feel sick?”

He didn’t want to leave her behind. He couldn’t leave her behind, and it didn’t matter if it had been over six months since her death. Didn’t matter if he knew that she wasn’t real, although he couldn’t figure out how she was here. Was this the reason why no one wanted to leave? Because this world brought back the ones they loved and lost?

“I’m not sick.” Even if he could have easily fooled himself into thinking that maybe he had been and had dreamed up the past several months. The weight of the comms device still in his hands claimed otherwise. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, feeling foolish for needing his mother so much, but...

“This isn’t real. This world and the people walking around in it.” He gestured around, feeling oddly frantic in his need to make her understand. Maybe if she did, then somehow he’d be able to take her away from this place- take her back home somehow. It wasn’t that he wanted to replace her, but damned if he didn’t want to change the events of what happened.

(And how easy would it be to pretend that he managed to drag her away from Cocoon before the disastrous event to Bodhum happened?)

You’re not real. But he couldn’t get those words out, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was true and something he would need to confront. He swallowed hard, turning his gaze from the crowd outside and the sunshine back toward Nora, who looked more rather worried.

“Hope.” She forcibly turned his gaze back to check his eyes, a hand lingering on the side of his head. “That’s not funny. If you’ve been reading those fictional stories about people and dreams again-”

“I haven’t.” The denial was sharp, much more terse than the tone he would have normally used with her. He could have so easily just given into what she was suggesting and gone home with her, dropping the comms device and forgetting all about Mosley’s dilemma. The fact that he could choose that irritated him. He didn’t want to be able to choose something like that. It wasn’t right. He closed his eyes just a moment and forced the tension away, trying to soften his voice if only because... he had always hated making his mom sad.

How could anyone deal with a world like this one, knowing the truth? It had to be why... why no one could make the decision to leave, and why they all chose to forget the bad things. Forget the real world, and they wouldn’t be forced into such a dilemma. And seeing her- Hope could understand why.

He had to break away. Not because he was stronger than those on Cocoon, but because... because his dad was still waiting for him down on the surface of Gran Pulse, probably worried and pacing as he usually did when he had something on his mind. Because of the tension in Lightning’s voice when he last heard her over the radio, and the guilt he could imagine on Lebreau and Snow’s demeanors. He had people waiting for him away from this world, unlike a good number of people who chose to stay. It wasn’t even a choice, not really; if he stayed, it would be nothing more than running away because he was too much of a coward to face the real world.

...Even if he didn’t want to face the real world and the glares; the sneers and turned faces of people who couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as a former l’Cie. Hope couldn’t stay because he was better than a coward... wasn’t he?

“Mom.” He pulled from her embrace, the motion nearly physically painful as he braced himself to never see her again. What would Nora Estheim have said? Have advised him to do? “You’re right. Not on the fiction thing, but... I just needed some air. Not because of the vacation.”

Her sweater was soft under his gloves, and Hope regretted the obstacle but was also grateful for it knowing it would have been that much harder to let go otherwise.

“Say there’s... just a thing. At school, you know. Just hypothetically. What if I didn’t feel like I belonged, and I have friends there but it’s almost like everyone else there hates me. And not just don’t like, but actually hates me. If I... If I wanted to be home schooled instead even if I wouldn’t be able to see my friends everyday again, would you say yes?”

Stupid, stupid- it was a stupid scenario, and he winced the moment he finished asking.

Nora made a thoughtful humming noise and sighed, resting her hands on Hope’s shoulders instead since he had pulled himself away to arms length.

“School, huh.” She intoned, giving him a knowing look. “I have a feeling this isn’t really about school.”

“Just... hypothetically.”

“Well, then, if it’s just hypothetically... I’d say you shouldn’t worry since you’ll be starting high school this year, anyway. And that’s a completely different school even if most of the people might be the same and- oh, Hope, I don’t know what you’re worried about, no one’s going to hate you, alright? You’re going to make friends and learn new things and complain about homework and hate school, but in the end I’m sure you’ll love every bit of it. But.” She held up a finger as Hope moved to protest that he wasn’t talking about that, “If you truly, truly feel that you’d rather take another option... you know I won’t stop you. In fact, I will back you up all the way and we’ll take the issue to your dad and bully him into it.

“I doubt he’d be very against it, if I’m being honest. He always did think that home school was a better idea.”

It was all back to him again, then.

“But Hope,” Nora continued, expression softening. “I don’t want you to miss out. Even if everything feels like it’s terrible, and you think that everyone hates you... you’re still going to have the ones who love you. And even if things are hard, it’s all a part of life. I know I’ve always pushed you to be more... social, I suppose. I just want you to be able to experience everything: to learn and laugh and see the world with your own eyes and all the ups and downs that come with that. I know you’re always acting so grown up, but right now you’re still young and I’m still allowed to look after you-” she paused, and then smiled widely, “Well, I’m always going to be looking after you, even when you’re all grown up and don’t need me anymore.”

“I’m always going to need you.” He might not have said those words before she died, but that didn’t make it any less true. Not when he could constantly feel the gap left in his life, knowing that his mother was gone. It was a wound he doubted would ever fully heal over.

“And now I know you’re up to something!” Nora responded cheerfully before falling back into her more serious tone. “You’re my baby, you know? Yes, yes, you hate it when I say that, but it’s true, and you don’t want me recounting tales of when you were in diapers to your friends, then you need to stop making that face every time I tell you - yes, that face! - you’re always going to be my baby, even when you’re old and wrinkly.”

“Mom!” And oh man, he definitely didn’t miss this part of conversations with her because sometimes he was just sure she didn’t seem to realize that he was a boy and not a little girl to coo over.

“Wrinkles are natural, Hope, and should be revered. It means you’ve lived long enough to earn them! Or, well, stressed hard enough to earn them, at least. Don’t tell your dad the first, since he doesn’t like being called old but I’d still call him ‘wrinkle face’ since he’s always so worried about everything and there’d be these lines around his eyes when he makes this face-” and she shifted her expression for an overly exaggerated impression of Bartholomew Estheim’s serious face, making it hard for Hope to hide his grin. “-Which is all the time! You’d think he might want to reserve that expression for when he actually needs it rather than having it on default, but it’s not like it matters that I tell him that all the time since it’s still his default expression.”

Her short rant had him covering up his own face in attempts to hide his grin, and she huffed at him a moment before laughing softly.

“Just make sure your expression doesn’t default to that as well, Hope. Or you’re going to look as funny as I do making that face since we’ve got the same complexion!”

“Never.” He promised, still buoyed from hearing her laugh. Just listening to her made him feel like he could push his worries away for just another moment, and that everything was going to be okay.

“What I mean to say,” Nora said, still with the same soft smile, “is that you’re old enough to make your own decisions now. And I’ll stand by them, even if I don’t completely agree with them. Well. Unless you’re telling me you’d like to do drugs or something, and then that’s a solid no, mister, but otherwise... you’re my only baby, Hope. And I will always want to see you safe and happy.”

“But what if-?” He hesitated, voice humbled by the confidence she had in him. Why had they never had a conversation like this before? Why had he never asked her questions like this? “What if I make the wrong choices? What if I do something wrong, and I can’t take it back, and then other people are hurt because of it?”

“Then you’ll learn from that choice.” Nora responded easily, as if it weren’t a question that had been plaguing Hope for months. She always did know exactly what to say, and it was something Hope missed dearly; to be able to confirm his choices and thoughts with her. “And you’ll persevere. Things like that happen all to the time, to different degrees. That’s what makes the world so interesting, because people continue to make mistakes and then learn from those mistakes. If we didn’t, then we wouldn’t progress. And then things would stay the same forever, and it’d be so boring, wouldn’t it?”

It wasn’t advice that would solve his problems, any of his problems, but it was something so typically her to wave away the easy choices just because there was something more interesting out there. Nora Estheim wouldn’t have stayed in the virtual world if given a choice. She wouldn’t be the one safe and protected; she’d choose the real world, even if it was harsh and dangerous.

She would choose to pick up the gun.

(And maybe... somewhere deep, deep in his heart... Hope resented her for that. Resented and admired.)

“Yeah.” He breathed out in agreement after a few long moments of thought, watching her smile. “You’re right. It’d be really boring.”

Boring and safe and he could find it within himself to be happy here, forgetting the outside world. But she would be so disappointed if she knew. If he chose her and that safe path where he wouldn’t have to face those angry stares. She had laughed at him, once, when he asked why she bothered with real and dirty vegetables when the food generated by Carbuncle had greater nutritional value and was pre-processed to require little to no effort in cooking. He had sighed and called her shameless when she regaled him on how she had wheedled the vegetables for free, and how fascinated she was by grown food.

But that was the real world, wasn’t it? The dirty and bug-eaten leaves as opposed to the pre-processed nutrition provided by Cocoon.

Nora must have sensed his conflict as she brushed back his bangs fondly.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You need space to think. I’ll let you to it, then. But make sure to be back in time for dinner, okay? And,” she pressed a thin rod into his palm. “Don’t forget your phone again. I don’t mind you going out, but I’d like to be able to check up on you if I need to.”

“...Right.” He agreed, fingers closing over the phone reflexively.

“Be home by dinner,” she repeated with a firm look, and Hope found himself unable to respond to that, still as she smiled and walked off, her steps light and content that her life was as normal and ordinary as the next person, and that her son would be home in time for the next meal and her husband would be coming home at night.

He couldn’t...

The weight of the phone in his hand was strangely heavy, solid and substantial in a way he knew it couldn’t be because his phone had been extraordinarily light. A further glance on the floor revealed the bulky communicator that Maqui had given him, the one he had held so tightly in his hands at the beginning of the conversation and hadn’t even noticed he dropped.

It took him a long moment before he moved to retrieve the comms device, the weight of something which should be that much heavier than the phone feeling like nothing at all. His phone was the same one he had before the Bodhum trip, chrome and sleek and easily forgettable to same way most phones on Cocoon tended to be. There was nary a blemish on it, or personalizations to make it his own. He had never cared too much about things like that, and had been content to have the latest features and applications.

The black comms device, on the other hand...

He traced gloved fingertips over the rough edges; parts that had been hastily screwed together, some parts not of the same size as others. It was limited and rough, bulky with some chipped edges that spoke of parts that had been taken apart and then put together many times. Maqui had tried to pass it off as something inconsequential when he handed the device to him, but it had been so easy to see through that. Despite the rough exterior, it had managed to do more than even the best gear that the military could offer. He doubted his old phone could have done anything like that.

Had it really been just this morning when he had stared into a mirror and wondered if he was doing the right thing? Wondered if his mom would be proud? He had woken up today determined to do something right and trying so hard to shake off the vestiges of a nightmare, one where he had failed and all the world was wrong.

Hope leaned against the railing and breathed out a long breath, mind swirling even as he slid slowly to sit on the ground, two separate methods of communication in both hands.

It wasn’t even a choice, right? He wanted his mom to be proud of him, and he already knew which choice she would have made. He knew which one was the right one, if there was a right choice in this situation. It shouldn’t be- shouldn’t be this hard. He wasn’t going to fail and he was going to prove himself and make sure everything would be all right. As all right as it could ever be.

During the Purge, he should have stood up. Should have made the right choice and not just cowered like a scared child. Now, he was wiser and he would face the choice head on because cowering wasn’t an option and if he did, it would just mean he had learnt nothing at all from everything that had happened. That he had learned nothing from his mom’s death, and from the deaths of one third of the population. He shouldn’t even be scared. This was nothing like back then.

But for some reason... staring at his hands and listening to the happy sounds of people in the background, Hope felt as lost and alone as he had back at the Hanging Edge.

...I am a loser. Nothing even happened here, and I had the hardest time writing this. I am sorry, and that's all I've got. /headdesks