Archive of Our Own

Lightning groaned at the sound of an incessant pounding on her door, which had offered her a pretty rude awakening from the awful dream she’d been having. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, and she tried to stamp down the feeling of being unable to breathe as she drifted back into wakefulness. She didn’t want to admit how bad the nightmares had gotten, nor did she want to acknowledge how pathetic they made her feel. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she grabbed the nearest bottle she could see and took a long swig from it, relishing in the familiar burn in her throat and letting out a relieved sigh as her headache started to subside.

Then she stood, shuffling through the inky darkness to the run-down apartment door and wondering who the fuck was knocking at that hour. It must’ve been two or three in the morning, she reasoned, narrowly managing not to trip over the clutter on her floor. None of her clocks displayed the correct time, all blinking or stuck on certain times; she’d broken nearly all of them in episodes following her nightmares. They were too visceral a reminder of the thirteen days she’d spent trying to save as many souls as possible, counting down each hour until the end of the world. She’d felt no fear back then, no guilt over picking and choosing who got to be saved. But now, she was human again, and the memories of those final days and all of the lives she’d taken over the years were nearly crippling.

Throwing the door open prepared to give the annoying visitor an earful, she found herself thrown off and reeling at the bright light that exploded before her eyes, her stomach lurching at the sudden change. So, it wasn’t the middle of the night; rather, it was midday. She supposed she couldn’t be all that surprised; she really had no concept of time anymore. The former savior shivered at the cold that bombarded her from the hallway, immediately wanting to retreat into the warmth and comforting darkness of her apartment. Squinting, the person before her swam in her vision before finally becoming a solid image, and she felt her grip tightening around the bottle she still held in one hand as she recognized the dark hair, dusky skin, and brilliant emerald eyes of her old friend.

“...Fang? The hell’re you doing here?” her voice, unused for what might’ve been weeks or even months rasped. She covered her mouth as her words were cut off by a large yawn before resting her free hand on the doorframe to steady herself, trying to ignore the fact that the world felt like it was spinning around her.

“Well, you look like shit,” Fang remarked breezily, waving her hand in front of her nose with a bit of an overly dramatic flair. “Smell like an entire pub, too. Good thing I came when I did, eh?”

She started to waltz past Lightning without an invitation, and the soldier suddenly jolted into alertness, sidestepping to block the huntress from entering. She didn’t want anyone to see the utter disarray that was her apartment, least of all Fang.

“You can’t -” she tried to protest, but Fang pushed past her anyway, interrupting her.

“Actually, I can. And I will. Thanks for offerin’.”

Fang flicked on the light as she entered, and Lightning physically winced, swallowing the bile that rose into her throat. When was the last time she’d turned her lights on, anyways?

“Damn, Light. Quite a place you’ve got here,” Fang remarked as she looked around at the mess before her.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Lightning grumbled irritably, letting out a long, almost defeated sigh as she sank into a dilapidated green armchair. It was the only available seat that wasn’t covered in unruly piles of dirty clothing or empty bottles collecting dust. The edges of the chair were fraying, though Lightning had covered the back of it with what appeared to be a homemade crocheted blanket, the only pop of color in the room which stood out starkly against the awful shades of green and brown. Fang recognized the blanket as one of the ones Serah had made each of them after arriving in the new world. The half-empty bottle Lightning had grabbed from her nightstand still hung from one hand, and she instinctively took another swig from it to try to assuage the embarrassment she felt over seeing Fang’s reaction to her unruly home.

A few moments later, she felt warm, calloused fingers gently landing on her own, the bottle pried with surprising ease from her grasp. Fang frowned as she set the bottle down on the coffee table before turning and placing her hands on her hips as she took in her haggard friend’s appearance.

The soldier looked… nothing like the Lightning Fang remembered, that was for sure.

Her shoulders were slouched, one hand cradling her forehead gingerly as she rubbed her temples, no doubt in an effort to keep her headache from returning now that the light was on. She was dressed in baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that were crumpled and looked like they hadn’t been washed in ages. She’d always been thin, but Fang could tell by looking at where her sleeve fell down her wrist that her hands and arms were far bonier than they’d ever been before. Her cheeks were sunken and pale, with dark circles around her eyes, and her icy blue irises were nearly gray. There was also a redness about her nostrils, making Fang wonder if she was sick.

“The hell happened to you?” Fang asked, her tone soft but firm.

Lightning’s eyes snapped up to her then, glaring with a flicker of her old fire returning to them for a moment. “What’s it to you? Why the hell are you even here, Fang?”

“Sue me, I wanted to see you,” Fang bit back, her voice hardening with a slight tinge of anger. “Took me forever to find you, you know. Serah and Hope have been beside themselves with worry, thinkin’ about all the times you’ve disappeared before. And here I find you, a goddamn drunk, livin’ off the grid in the middle of fuckin’ Maine - which, by the way, is bloody freezing! I don’t know what the fuck is goin’ on with you, but I’m not leaving til I get answers.”

“Whatever,” Lightning muttered callously.

“Whatever?” Fang asked incredulously, frustration bubbling within her as her eyes narrowed. “That all you’re gonna say?”

Lightning was silent in response, seething as she drew her knees in toward her chest. With an indignant huff, Fang moved a pile of clothes out of the way of one of the couch cushions and sat down as well, resting her elbows on her knees as she eyed Lightning for a moment. But as the silence dragged on, she found her eyes drifting around the room instead, taking a bit more time to actually make tabs on how Lightning had been living over the past few months. The apartment itself was far from nice even without the mess, with yellowing, water-damaged walls and exposed wires on the ceiling. Bottles were strewn about everywhere, and as her eyes landed on the coffee table, she frowned at the sight of a slight powdery substance scattered across its surface. There were a couple of dollar bills lying on the floor as well, curled at the edges. As she looked over to Lightning again, she noticed the soldier’s hands trembling slightly as she yawned again.

“What’ve you been up to, then?” Fang decided to take a different approach. Clearly, the former savior wasn’t going to outright tell her why she’d disappeared; the huntress was going to have to figure out another way to get it out of her.

“You’re looking at it.”

“Looks like fun,” Fang replied, sarcasm evident in her tone. “You planning on going to Serah’s wedding? Seein’ as how you’re her maid of honor and all.”

“I can’t,” Lightning muttered, averting her gaze. “I figured she would’ve asked Yeul or Vanille to take my place by now.”

“You know she’d never do that,” Fang pointed out, and by the sound of Lightning’s irritated scoff, Fang knew the soldier agreed. “Yeah, mini Farron’s ‘bout as stubborn as her sister. Can’t imagine where she got that from. She’d sooner have an empty spot for the maid of honor than replace ya. I’m sure she’ll never forgive herself if you don’t come, though.”

“I doubt she’ll forgive herself if I do,” Lightning muttered bitterly.

Fang narrowed her eyes. “And just what do you mean by that?”

Lightning huffed. “Nothing.” 

Rising to her feet, the soldier added, “I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home, but don’t expect to stay for long. I want you gone as soon as you can get a flight out.”

Fang watched as the soldier left the room, and a few moments later, she heard the sound of the shower running. Shaking her head, she stood up and made her way to the kitchen, finding Lightning’s trash bags - the box was covered in dust - and starting to throw away the trash and bottles that were scattered around the apartment, both throughout the living room and Lightning’s bedroom. As she cleaned, she found herself thinking about her interactions with Lightning so far, and the events that had brought her to Maine looking for the soldier in the first place.

Nobody had seen or heard from Lightning in months, and everyone had been growing antsier and antsier the longer she was gone and the closer the time came toward Serah’s wedding date. They’d all found one another shortly after arriving in the new world, and Lightning and Serah had lived together for a few weeks in the beginning. Once the Farron sisters, mainly Serah, had gotten in touch with everyone else, the entire group had planned to go on a vacation together to catch up and reunite, and Serah had confirmed that Lightning was on board with the plan as well.

But then, the day before they were set to meet up, Lightning disappeared without a trace. She left no message, no note. When Serah tried to call her, it immediately went to a service message alerting her that the phone number had been disconnected. Hope had been worried that something bad had happened to Light, recalling how she’d disappeared into Valhalla after the l’Cie incident. But to everyone’s surprise, Serah seemed to have expected something like that to happen, though she was certainly upset. The younger Farron wouldn’t tell anyone what living with Lightning had been like, figuring it’d be an invasion of the soldier’s privacy, but Fang and the others had gathered that something was definitely off with Lightning.

Between Snow’s infectious optimism that Lightning was okay and would come back eventually and Serah’s reaction to Lightning’s disappearance, they’d at least been able to relax to an extent with the knowledge that Lightning was probably alive somewhere. But the group wasn’t quite the same as it might’ve been thanks to her absence. Hope and Serah were the most outwardly upset by it, trying their best to enjoy their time with everyone, but it was clear they wanted Lightning to come back. And everyone else took on a more somber mood after learning that Lightning was gone.

Fang had been worried, too, but she was better able to keep it internalized than the rest of the group. At first, she was flat out enraged. They finally had the chance to all be together again, and Lightning had just up and left? But then, after she’d had some time to dwell on it, her anger turned to concern. While in Valhalla, Lightning had fought for the greater good, but she’d still always been searching for a way to return to everyone. Then, as the savior, even with part of her humanity stripped away, Lightning had been fueled by her desire to be reunited with Serah; and in the end, she hadn’t wanted to be left alone in the Chaos. She’d wanted to be with her friends, her family, in the new world.

Lightning was reserved, independent, there was no doubt about that. But Fang knew that by the end of their time as l’Cie, she’d viewed the group as a family as much as any of them had, and saving their souls as the savior had been personal for her as much as it’d been a duty. The Pulsian thought back to her fight with Bahamut, how Lightning had instantly jumped to her defense, holding out her hand to Fang and drawing her back into the group.

“Protecting one of our own,” Lightning had said when Fang asked them what they were doing, why they were defending her after she’d tried to betray them. “We can do without their brand of mercy. And we don’t need a fal’Cie’s orders. I’m fighting this focus to the end; we all are. So please, fight with us.”

Though she’d tried to push them all away in the beginning, doing so had been out of pain. And in the end, Lightning had been the glue that held them all together. So it didn’t make sense for her to disappear now, when a normal life was finally possible for all of them, when she’d been through hell and back to make being together possible. 

Fang had deduced that if Lightning was pushing them away again, there was probably something deeper going on, something Lightning didn’t want them to see, so as the best tracker of the group, she’d set out to find the soldier. And seeing the way Lightning was living… well, she reckoned she’d been right on the money. Her concern only deepened with the comment Lightning had made about Serah; why would the younger Farron be upset if Lightning was at her wedding? How could Lightning’s presence possibly be more crushing to the younger Farron than if she didn’t show at all to one of the most monumental moments of her life?

Fang didn’t get much time to dwell on that thought though, as she heard the shower shut off and a few moments later the door opened. Lightning came walking back into the living room a few moments later, dressed in a tank top and shorts, and Fang was surprised to see that she seemed… oddly relaxed, far more than she had been before. Her movements were slower and groggier than usual, and her voice was soft and slowed as well, words slurring together slightly as she spoke.

“You cleaned?” Lightning asked as she looked around, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Least I could do, seein’ as how I barged in uninvited and you’re lettin’ me stay for a bit,” Fang replied, her eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion as she observed Lightning tiredly sinking back into the armchair. “Mind if I take a quick shower? Had a pretty long trip to get here.”

“Go ahead,” Lightning murmured as she rested her head on her hand. “Towels are in the closet.”

Fang nodded. “Right. Thanks.”

Walking into the bathroom, Fang grabbed a towel out of the closet and turned on the shower before looking around, a frown resting on her lips. She didn’t want to be nosy, but Lightning’s behavior was beyond out of the ordinary. Fang was starting to think she knew why, though she didn’t want her suspicions to be true. The alcohol was one thing, and that was something she knew how to deal with, but…

Bingo. The same powdery substance she’d seen on the table was on the sink as well, and when Fang opened the medicine cabinet, she felt her heart sinking. Lightning was abusing oxy and Vicodin. But why? Why did the soldier feel the need to turn to substances? Why couldn’t she confide in Serah or Hope, at the very least, after everything they’d been through?

Grabbing the bottles out of the cabinet, Fang flushed the pills down the toilet without a second thought before taking a quick shower and heading into Lightning’s room to steal a T-shirt and sweats from the soldier. When she returned to the living room, she found Lightning curled up in the armchair, asleep. The blanket Serah had crocheted for her was wrapped around her shoulders, and she held the two sides together with one hand that was tucked beneath her chin. Curled up in a chair and wrapped in a colorful blanket, Fang realized with a jolt that it was the most innocent she’d ever seen Lightning look.

Fang felt her heart clench as she sat back down on the couch, running a hand through her hair as she considered just how bad things had gotten for Lightning. She’d expected a bit of a mess when she found the former savior, but this… this was far worse than she ever could’ve imagined. Lightning was the strong, steadfast one. She was the group’s resilient leader. She wasn’t the one who broke. Fang wanted to know what had changed, what it was that had finally broken her, and she couldn’t figure that out unless Lightning talked to her.

Suddenly, she heard a strained whimper, and her eyes snapped over to see that the soldier was shaking, her teeth clenched as pained sounds escaped her lips, despite the fact that she was still asleep in the chair.

“Light,” Fang said in an attempt to wake her.

“I didn’t…” Lightning gasped, “Couldn’t save them…”

“Sunshine,” Fang said, her voice rising in surprise and worry as she stood up and made her way quickly over to the armchair, reaching out to shake the soldier’s shoulder.

Lightning sat up suddenly, her eyes wide and her pupils constricted as a strained sob tore from her lips. She immediately jolted back from Fang’s touch as though she’d been burned, wrapping her arms around herself so tightly that Fang was amazed she didn’t cut off her own circulation. Fang could visibly see her throwing her walls up, drawing into herself as her breath came out in quick, panicked gasps. Her eyes flicked around confusedly, seeming to struggle to focus on any one particular point in the room.

“Calm down, Sunshine, it’s just me,” Fang said, kneeling down in front of her. “You were just havin’ a bad dream is all.”

“You need to leave,” Lightning choked out, her voice strained and strangled when her eyes finally landed on Fang before quickly flicking away, “You can’t… see me like this.”

“Lightning…”

“Fang, please go,” the soldier pleaded, refusing to look at the Pulsian in front of her as she gripped the blanket around her shoulders, shame building in her chest and rising into her throat in barely contained sobs. She slowly started to rock back and forth anxiously, wanting to be left alone so that she could drown out her mind and go back to living her life in a dark, drunken haze. At least that way she could turn off her thoughts and get in a wink of sleep before the nightmares encroached on her once more.

“Light, look at me,” Fang said, her voice so stern that the soldier finally did look at her, her eyes managing to stay locked on the Pulsian this time. “You’re the toughest person I’ve met in my entire life, and I’ve met a bloody fuck ton of people. Nothin’ could ever make me think less of you, understand? I won’t leave you. I won’t do it.”

“I’m not a good person,” Lightning snapped coldly, trying desperately to regain her composure. “Go back to Carlingford. Just tell everyone I’m fine.”

“But you’re not fine,” Fang shot back, earning a bitter glare from the soldier. “I can deal with you pushin’ everyone else away, but not me. You don’t get to do that to me, Sunshine.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lightning muttered, though her voice was losing its fire. “ Leave. ”

“ No, ” Fang matched Lightning’s stubbornness, reaching out and gently resting a hand on one of Lightning’s tense forearms. The soldier tensed even more, drawing further and further into herself, but as Fang started to gently rub her thumb along the soldier’s arm, she slowly started to relax, her grip around herself loosening just slightly.

“Leave,” Lightning said again, with less conviction.

Fang’s hand wrapped around Lightning’s wrist with a surprising gentleness given how strong and brash the huntress was, acting as though she were handling glass. She waited until the soldier had loosened up a bit before she tugged Lightning’s arm, pulling her forward until she could draw her into an embrace. Her hands rubbed the soldier’s back with slow, methodical motions. As the tension dissipated from Lightning’s body, Fang felt her starting to tremble.

“Listen, Light,” Fang murmured as she held the shaking former savior. “I can’t begin to imagine your pain, and I won’t say I understand it. But you’ve been through hell and back more times than any of us. More times than me and Vanille, even. You did what you had to do to survive. Doesn’t make you a bad person. And now, you’ve gotta do what you need to cope. But livin’ like this, alone, drownin’ yourself in booze and drugs? There are better ways to cope. Like bein’ with your family. The people who love you. People like me.”

“Don’t…” Lightning started to tense again. “Don’t say that.”

“What? That I love you? I do, Light. Frankly, I didn’t think it was all that big a secret.”

“I’m not worthy of it,” Lightning muttered. “That’s why I needed to leave, do you understand? I almost killed Noel. Abandoned Snow and Hope after sending Serah to her death. And you and Vanille… I let you both sacrifice yourselves. And the worst part? As the savior, I didn’t care. Didn’t feel anything, really. I could’ve destroyed the world and I wouldn’t have felt a goddamn thing. I flat out said it to Noel - I wasn’t human. Any ordinary human would’ve been crushed by the guilt, but I wasn’t. I could kill him and walk away without a care in the world. But now I’m human again…”

Fang inadvertently tightened her hold around the soldier, as if she could take her pain. So that was why Lightning had left; how hadn’t any of them put the pieces together? Fang had partnered with her for quite some time in the Dead Dunes. And Hope understood the emotionlessness she’d felt while acting as Bhunivelze’s pawn. Of course, it’d be sitting with her now that she finally had her humanity back. Fang wouldn’t have been surprised if they found out that Lightning had developed PTSD after everything she’d experienced.

“And now the guilt is finally crushin’ you, that it?” Fang said. “So you ran.”

Lightning deflated. Fang had hit the nail on the head. 

“Well, hate to break it to ya Sunshine,” Fang sighed, “but I still love ya, and I’ll care about ya til the day I die. Whether you think you’re worthy of it or not. I’ve waited too damn long to tell you that, had too many close calls to waste another second.”

Letting out a long breath, Lightning rested her chin on Fang’s shoulder, finally wrapping her own arms around Fang, though they hung much more loosely around the Pulsian’s back than the huntress’s firm grip. “I… I think you know how I feel already. Do I have to say it?”

“No,” Fang chuckled, “I know you’re not one for all the sappy talk. And it’s not a good time for ya. That’s quite alright. Bein’ here is good enough for me.”

“I’m tired, Fang,” she murmured, her voice empty and devoid of emotion. Fang felt the weight of her words, sighing softly as she nodded.

“I know, Sunshine,” Fang said. “I know.”

They sat like that for a while before Lightning became heavier in Fang’s arms, no longer holding herself upright, and Fang could tell by the change in her breathing that she’d dozed off again. Careful not to wake her again, Fang easily lifted the soldier in her arms and made her way to Lightning’s room, laying her on the bed and pulling the covers up over her shoulders before slipping into the space next to her and wrapping an arm around her midsection protectively.

The next morning, Lightning would be pissed upon finding the drugs gone, having relied on them for quite a while to subdue the overwhelming guilt and panic she felt. The following week would be spent battling nightmares and a rather violent bout of withdrawal, the push and pull between Fang and Lightning still present as the soldier struggled to accept that she deserved a good future in the new world. And though those challenges would subside, new ones would present themselves, like returning to Carlingford and facing her family, and seeing her sister married off to Snow.

But for now, Fang held Lightning in her arms, the two of them drifting into a peaceful sleep. It was the first Lightning had had in a long time that was uninterrupted by nightmares, at ease with the knowledge that, though there was still a long path ahead of them, they loved one another.

And for now, that was enough.