I forgot the disclaimer on part four, but here it is this time! I DO NOT OWN OR HAVE RIGHTS TO the Final Fantasy franchise, Square Enix, or any characters/locations/what-have-you therein. Whew.

This is the final installment for this story. I originally wrote it at an obscenely late/early hour of the day while slightly delirious with a since-cured cold. So, in fair warning, there is angst...and fluff. I think that's what it's called. At the end of this part, down at the bottom, I will have a small explanation for why I have written things out this way. I will also include a couple of songs that inspired/go with this story.

Spoilers: If you do not know Lightning's real name and do not wish to find out via this story, do not read on. I'm not sure if that is a legitimate spoiler or not, but I want to be safe.

P.S. Doesn't the word 'hangar' sound like pirate jargon? HangAR!

Part Five: Acceptance

Location: Lindblum, open-air hangar.

Lightning's pale eyes gazed without preference out into the night sky enveloping the airship. They were so high in Cocoon's protected sky that the lights below could only manage a faint glitter, barely twinkling through hazy wisps of sheer clouds. She leaned the side of one hip against the cold metal of the railing, idly rubbing a hand over her upper arm as she let her thoughts wander over the events of the past few days. Her gloves were trapped under the belt around the waist of her jacket. She had removed them to more easily re-bandage the finger she had cut while speaking with Snow earlier that day, back in Palumpolum. Originally, the wound had not been that grievous and had mostly affected her fingernail, bleeding but slightly. After their battle with the PSICOM ship, however, the stress had aggravated the injury of her sword hand and caused the nail to split and bleed enough to require treatment.

It throbbed dully now, and she stopped swiping her hand over her arm, remembering to try and take it easy, allowing her injured hand to rest at her other arm's elbow as she continued to stare aimlessly out into the darkness. It seemed to be as bleak as their future. What future? Lightning blinked at her own pessimistic thought; her eyes focusing and narrowing slightly, displaying something close to anguish. She wanted to destroy Eden and the fal'Cie; she wanted her sister back, alive and well. But what if this was all as impossible as it sounded?

She turned to face the railing fully, wrapping the fingers of her uninjured hand around the topmost bar, the cold metal unable to steal her attention away from her newly-found barren mindset. Am I running to this fight just to fight again? Have I hidden the same panicked tactic under the guise of progress? She could play the cool and confident role to give the others reassurance, but now it seemed she had saved none for herself. Mortified at the helplessness of her thoughts, Lightning fought to climb out of the despair she usually worked so hard at ignoring. That despair had formed with the death of her parents, grew with each cold or heated exchange she'd had with Serah, and multiplied exponentially when she saw her little sister all but die before her eyes. She would have liked to say that she accepted her l'Cie branding as punishment, but it truthfully just seemed to add punctuation to the depressing sentence of her life, expanding the deep, dark pool in her mind.

Snow found her as she was spiraling into her mental pit. After Fang appointed him as the official Lightning ambassador, he had stalked back into his room, tugged on his boots, and grabbed his jacket before beginning his mission to seek out "She of the blank stare and hard fist." Another pillow had thumped against the door on his way out which he credited to a reawakened Hope. He had reached the hangar before realizing that he hadn't remembered to put a shirt on under his coat. It didn't bother him, though. The weather was mild, and he felt rather comfortable once he stepped onto the breezy catwalk.

When he saw Lightning, he began to raise his hand in an attempt to hail her, figuring he would act normal and innocent for as long as possible while interacting with her. His motion faltered, though, the hand only making it to shoulder height before he dropped it again. Lightning's figure was in profile to him, and her expression was not one that he recognized. Wait...he thought, remembering. There had been a moment, back on the vestige of the Pulse fal'Cie which had branded them all. In that moment when they both knew they were losing Serah, Lightning's expression had been similar to this one. Is she thinking about Serah?

He waited, watching her for a few more moments. Her injured hand moved up to her chest, forming a lightly closed fist as she pressed her knuckles onto the spot where he understood her l'Cie brand to be located. From the look on her face, it seemed to be causing her pain; her brows came together and her jaw muscles tightened. Snow realized that he was frowning, too. Seeing her like that, he felt pained as well. After another moment, when her eyes closed and the knuckles of her fingers around the rail went white, he finally walked towards her, closing the gap. In a small act of subtlety which was usually not forefront in his mind, he made his footsteps fall with an exaggerated weight, making them even easier to hear to give Lightning a chance to react accordingly.

The tactic worked. At the sound of the heavy boots approaching, Lightning's eyes snapped open, and her posture corrected itself to ramrod straightness. He watched her chest rise and fall once heavily before she half-turned to face him, leveling her pale eyes into his bright ones, her blank mask almost fully in place. Snow let his lips spread into a smile, trying to make his eyes match and hopefully not betray his concern.

"Hey, Sis," he said genially, flicking his hand in a careless wave. His nonchalant greeting made her eyes temporarily widen slightly, with what emotion he was not sure, but she soon brought her stoicism to the forefront once again.

"It's a little late for a stroll," she said in low tones, her voice chilly.

"I could say the same thing to you, right?" he replied, keeping his smile in place. Lightning turned her face back over the railing, apparently not inclined to visually acknowledge him. Snow imagined she was replaying his indecent conduct in her mind, silent simmering over it even as he stood within fist's-reach.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted suddenly, to Snow's surprise. "I've been thinking..." her words trailed off. He noted that her features had gone softer once again, not in the relaxed ease of her sleep, but in a way which silently admitted a sort of defeat. What in the world was going on here?

"About what?" Snow had an idea of what her thoughts could be, but he asked anyway on impulse. At his questioning, the injured hand at her chest tensed briefly. Several moments of silence passed between them, passively indicating she was not going to reveal her inner musings.

"How's your finger?" He tried a different approach, confused now that he saw it was bandaged. It had not seemed that bad earlier. When she reflexively dropped the hand to her side, hiding it from his view, he barely caught himself in time to avoid rolling his eyes. It seemed she was being especially antisocial today, just like Fang had said.

"Did you need something?" Lightning finally turned toward him fully, her good hand at her hip and her head tilting to the side as she appraised him, noting his bare torso under his long coat. He still has the bandages on. Is he in pain? At the thought, she relaxed the thin line she had pressed her lips into and shifted her weight uncomfortably, brushing a few independent strands of hair behind her ear as she glanced down.

Snow could have been mistaken, but it seemed as if she had adopted an aggressive attitude and then just as suddenly stepped down. It was starting to become unsettling, this odd characterization she was portraying. Even more unsettling was the itch in his hands as he witnessed her actions, wanting to tell her things would be okay with sweeps of his fingers down the slopes of her arms. He turned away from the rail and leaned back against it, looking out over the opposite side, taking his eyes away from a course of self-ruin. "You been thinking about Serah?" The question escaped his mouth, despite being a subject he did not feel worthy to broach at the moment.

Lightning looked up to the big man's face, openly bewildered for a moment that he had managed to guess her thoughts. Her gaze turned out into the night again. "A little," she said. They stood silently, each looking over a different view, finding nothing in the sky.

"Your brand is getting bigger," Lightning observed when her eyes found his arm as it lay against the rail. Snow glanced down when she mentioned it. He had noticed, of course, but having someone point it out made him look without thinking, despite already knowing what he would see.

"Yeah," he said, holding his arm up to better examine the blight marring his skin. Lightning watched as he studied it closely. The thoughtfulness in his eyes was not what she usually beheld when interacting with the large man. His fingers flexed and extended at his bidding, the brand shifting a little as the muscles underneath tightened and relaxed.

There was something about male forearms, some genetic design specific to them, that made the cord-like muscles controlling their fingers appear outlined, dramatic in their juxtaposition with each other. Lightning surmised that, were she to try, she would just barely be able to encircle his forearm with both of her hands.

"Lightning?" When Snow said her name, Lightning realized her fingers were on his arm. Things were so strange. Without gloves, his hands seemed so vast compared to her, likewise, bare hands. She pressed her palm fully to his arm as he stood frozen. When her hand slid over his skin towards his hand, he had to mightily fight to suppress a tingle that crawled up his spine and threatened to shake him bodily. Her hand was cool against his skin. He tried to recall if Serah's touch had felt like this, too. He couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry," Snow opened his eyes when Lightning apologized. It barely registered that he didn't recall closing them. Lightning's hand had stopped over his brand, covering it completely. Before he could offer her pardon, she continued. "This is all my fault. I know that. I didn't believe Serah when she told me she was a l'Cie. I couldn't. I..." she paused, the words seemingly too painful to say out loud. "I threatened her!" she finished desperately. "I said it would be my duty to hunt her down if she'd become a Pulse l'Cie." Lightning's other hand came up and grasped his arm from the other side, and she pressed his arm, the spot where is brand was, between her hands. "The words won't stop playing in my head. I hear myself over and over again, saying those horrible things."

"Light," Snow started to say something, but he stopped when he didn't know what should follow. He had been there, in the room, when Lightning had said all of that to Serah, and he didn't know how to comfort her. "We can do this. We're the heroes, after all." He offered a smile which she didn't see since she had been continuously staring at her hands on his arm. Her grip relaxed, but her hands remained where they were.

"I'm going for Dysley," she said, her voice regaining some of its usual conviction. This time, when Snow looked down to her, she took notice and lifted her eyes to meet his. They were hard again, which he was used to, but they were not cold. The fire fueling the drive for her goal was apparent in her gaze. The new combination took Snow off guard. Lightning was showing him so many different aspects, he wasn't sure how to react.

"I'm taking him down, and then I'm severing the fal'Cie's hold over Cocoon," as she spoke her fingers slightly tightened around his arm again. "I want to give the people control over their own destinies, and then..." she faltered, her eyes clouding temporarily before she retracted her hands from his skin. He frowned at the change in her countenance, not understanding the cause until she finished what she had been about to say. "Then we'll get Serah back," she said, her voice strong, sure of itself. Her features were returning to her stoic mask.

"It's late," she said. Snow thought his heart would break when he heard her tone, perfectly level and cool as the breeze pushing loose strands of hair across her eyes. When she started to step around him, plotting a course for her room, he saw his hand reach out and catch her arm. He felt her tense under his hand. Any other time, she would have turned and snatched her limb away from his grip with a fifty-percent chance of physical retaliation following close behind. This time, though, she just stood, waiting for him to say something or let go. Let go. He told himself. His hand remained, despite his mind's urging. How could he explain his words, his actions, when he himself didn't understand, tried to dissuade his own doings.

Lightning wished desperately that he would release her. His touch was warm and, somehow, made her feel...innocent, like some of the blame is shifted away, she thought, like all of this is somehow possible, like I'm not alone. But if she didn't have her responsibility, her duty, a goal, she had nothing. That was far more frightening.

"Snow," she heard herself say in protest to his grip.

"Wait," he said quickly, his mind kicking back into gear. "Just hold on a second." To his relief, Lightning turned back to face him, waiting like he had asked. He let his hand fall away from her arm. Her expectant gaze made him uncomfortable since he did not really have anything to say. He just wanted her to stay. He might have guessed, if he had the mind to try, that she didn't want to leave.

"You got to say a lot of cool stuff, but I didn't get to say anything," he began. Lightning's eyebrow raised of its own accord. "I guess...what I want to say is...I'm," he began to form more words to follow, but stopped abruptly.

"You're...?" Lightning said, urging him to complete his thought, showing signs of surfacing annoyance.

"We want the same things, Light," he said, obviously changing what he originally intended to say. Lightning remained silent, ignoring his calling her 'Light' for the second time that evening.

"All that stuff you said, I want that, too," he explained, unconsciously taking a small step toward her. "But, more importantly," he began again, "This isn't your fault." He held up his arm to show his brand. Lightning shifted her feet and looked ready to counter his statement, but he cut her off. "Really, it's not. I chose to follow you into that vestige. I decided to stay and fight. I would have been there even if you weren't because I'm the hero," when he grinned as he said this, Lightning could not help but smirk slightly for a brief moment. Snow's face turned serious again. "And Serah," he said quietly.

Lightning felt like his words held a lead weight that dropped into her stomach. "And Serah," she repeated just as quietly. Surprise was plainly evident in her face when Snow closed the distance between them and took hold of her sword hand, the one with the injured finger. He gently placed his other hand over hers that he held, forming a protective cage. "Serah is my sister," Lightning said, hoping her meaning was clear enough to make Snow drop her hand, to make him stop insisting on touching her. When she realized that, in this conversation, she had touched him first, she turned her face away in self-reproach of her hypocrisy.

"I'm sorry for causing you pain," he said softly, retaining her hand. He was apparently making a habit of taking this particular hand hostage.

"You're her fiancé," Lightning's voice was colder, but more urgent, like she was afraid of losing.

"And she will always be special to me," Snow said in return. His free hand reached out and encircled her waist, pulling her closer. It was becoming clear to him that, while originally it seemed his hands were acting of their own accord, going against his bidding, they were genuinely enacting his will. Discovering that he wanted her close was amazing enough; even more amazing was her compliance, however reluctant.

"You're getting married!" Lightning nearly shouted, her mask failing as she grimaced, her free hand clenching tightly over her brand. The agitation was causing her brand to burn fiercely.

"Lightning!" Snow wasn't sure what was causing her pain, but he could guess. Her hand formed a hard fist, and she punched the side of his chest. He winced, but thankfully she hadn't gone for his ribs. When her hand vacated the spot of her pain, he unwound his arm from around her waist and pressed his palm to where her brand would be, a little higher than the center of her chest. He grit his teeth, upset that he couldn't think of anything else to do.

The pain passed almost as quickly as it had come, and Lightning gasped a few lungfuls of air in relief. "I'm okay," she said while swaying slightly. Once she was settled again, she realized where Snow's hand was and flushed a little pink, glancing down to her chest. When she looked back up, though, Snow didn't give her the chance to speak or argue. He dipped his head down to her. Their lips met and matched, lingering.

When Snow pulled away from the short-lived contact, he wasn't sure how to describe Lightning's expression. She seemed shocked, and perplexed, and uncertain. Most surprisingly, she didn't seem angry. He was almost certain he would be forfeiting his livelihood with such a brash action. Yet he remained in the realm of the living. They stood looking at one another for a long moment, both trying to guess what they other was thinking. Snow slid his hand up to the bottom of her ear, his fingers gently wrapping behind her neck as his thumb brushed across her cheek once. Lightning's eyes almost closed as her face turned ever so slightly into his palm. Fast and irregular, he felt the rhythm of her heartbeat against his hand. After a moment, he was amazing to feel it slow significantly, becoming strong and steady. It didn't falter when she locked her eyes back onto his.

Snow was captured in that moment. But when he leaned towards her again, Lightning checked his motion with the hand she had kept at his chest. Snow froze, looked down, and then sighed. What else had he been expecting? His fingers twitched at her neck, once again not listening to his command when he willed their retreat.

"My name," Lightning said, her voice clear and calm, contrary to what he would have expected. When he looked back up to her, the question in his eyes, Lightning felt a surge of warmth. It felt like coming home after a long day at work to find Serah sleeping peacefully on the couch. It felt like there had never been a problem in the world. It was pure and could be nothing but good. Love felt like many things, and they were all this warm. "It's Claire," she said. The turmoil had fled from her eyes, replaced by conviction and acceptance.

"Claire," he said with a smile. Hearing her name in his voice and seeing him smile while he said it, Claire couldn't help but smile, as well. When he saw this, Snow couldn't help but kiss her again. Their mouths came together, seeking, finding, unyielding. The surrender was freeing, and they forgot about everything besides the sensation of pressing against each other. Claire wrapped her fingers into the collar of his coat, pulling him down more, pulling him closer, unable to let go of this warm feeling.

At one point, Snow's engagement necklace, one of a matching pair he had purchased for himself and Serah, became tangled with the zipper at Claire's throat and knotted them together. Taking this as a good omen, they continued, unabashed and without interruption.

End.

A/N: ...*crickets chirping* I was not able to honestly judge this addition to the story. I do not know how I feel about it. I tried not to make it too sappy and tried to keep it believable. If there is a question mark in your brain about anything, visit my profile. I have prepared a discussion on this story, characters and different elements and what I was trying to do. Read it, and if there is still a question mark about anything, please PM me. Hearing from readers is the only way I can identify what works and what doesn't. Please help me to improve by providing feedback. /insecure rant

Thanks so much again to those who have left reviews. I try to respond back to people within a day or two. Please feel free to leave comments, reviews, and random facts (human peripheral vision has increased by 75% in the past 20 years) in the "Reviews" area even if you did not feel like reading the discussion on my profile. I hope you derived some pleasure and/or entertainment from this short story. Thanks very much to everyone who took the time to read.

I said I would list a few songs, so here they are: Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something, If You're Not the One by Daniel Bedingfield, Kissing You by Des'ree, I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie. They are all great songs which helped me get in the right mindset to write this story. Peace. That's it. The End.