A/N: You don't know how surprised I was when I opened my inbox and found so many notifications! I'm just… Wow. Thank you! It definitely wasn't what I expected! And thank you to those of you who reviewed and for you silent readers, your favorites make me smile. :]

On another note, I know I've said that this is supposed to be more pairing-centric and fluffy and not very serious, but my friend blatantly pointed out that the way chapter one ended completely contradicted that. So he encouraged me to develop a little plot guide and I must say… I like the direction this'll be taking. Don't worry though, there will still be cute fluffy moments, albeit a bit on the pseudo side.

Anyway, I hope you all had a great holiday and will enjoy this chapter (which was so long it's been cut into about three parts) as much as I enjoyed writing it. :]

Disclaimer: I do believe it hasn't changed since chapter one; I don't own – Square does!

"Fear and panic in the air
I want to be free
From desolation and despair..." - Muse

II - Panic -

Hope's eyes fluttered open to see the pink hued sky above him, the setting sun casting rosy glares at him through those innocent, diamond-like petals. He felt one brush against his cheek and he sighed at it's softness, a contrast to the hard metal beneath him. He blinked his heavy eyes, biting back a groan as reality crept up on him, making every sting in his being apparent. His body screamed from aches and pains that he could not fully discern and he was well aware of the flames that engulfed his throat.

"He's awake," The voice reached him before its face came into view, long chocolate hair tickling Hope's cheeks. "Can you hear me?"

Hope nodded meekly, too disoriented to form a coherent response. The woman's red wine eyes softened and he felt her fingers brush across his forehead briefly, the gesture comforting, but then her expression scrunched up with worry and confusion. Hope blinked his eyes a few times, a failed attempt to focus his vision, and continued to stare up at her blankly.

"I can't heal… but how…?" She whispered to herself. Her eyes left his and a head of pink suddenly took place on his other side. Hope's attention shifted onto familiar cerulean eyes and he tried to smile but his muscles refused, staying tightly locked in place. It was like his nerves were shot dead, like the messages that formed in his brain to direct them, chiseled away before they could even leave.

The pink haired woman lifted his head onto her lap and he bite back a whimper at the pain that suddenly shot through him. She spoke, saying something about 'power' and 'energy', but he couldn't understand her words that were spoken with sadness. Her voice did not hold that familiar edge - or confidence - a part of him wanted so desperately to hear. Or maybe he just knew she wasn't her, the woman with the strange yet soothing voice.

Hope tried to move, to get off this woman and try to find his father - or the woman's sister, but his efforts only managed to make his fingers twitch. The tiny motion sent all types of coherent thought out the window when he felt a shockwave of pain shoot up his arms. The things around him flickered in and out of focus and blobs of colors fought against the darkness that had slowly crept across his vision.

"We have to…hospital…lightning and…get back…"

What?

"Where's….baat…rosch….the prim…ok?"

What are you saying? I don't…I don't…under…stand…

Hope's eyes fluttered closed without his consent and he whimpered as the aches and pains became more prominent the longer he willed himself to stay awake. Eventually, he breathed out evenly, ready to fall victim to the darkness that promised a blissful sleep – just like before. A light pressure pressed against his chest – were they hands? – and he heard a collection of soft voices from a distance. They were muffled, but he heard how frantic and afraid they sounded. He wanted to say sorry for making them worry over him, but his lips could not form the correct words. The voices faded away, along with the pressure on his chest, and his head finally sank beneath the abyss.

Hope.

Warm fingers pressed against his forehead and swiped away his bangs. Hope cracked open an eye, then the other. Nothing but a grey sky faded into focus, blinding him for the few moments that his eyes were not adjusted. He sat up, his fingers slipping into damp sand, and swept his gaze across a black and white landscape. It was a desolate beach, onyx sand, white crystals that jutted out of its surface at odd angles, and air that tasted of something pure and nothing like the salty sea air of Bodhum. If there were more to the mysteriously bland beach other than the dimly glittering crystals, then Hope could not see it through the heavy fog that circled him.

Where am I?

"Valhalla… land of the dead."

Hope's head snapped over to where he suspected the voice had originated from, but only came face to face with the stark white fog.

I'm dead?

"No, at least not yet. I'm trying to help but," The voice clicked its tongue in slight annoyance and Hope tried to dig through his mind to find a face to place that familiar voice. "But the choice to return is ultimately up to you."

Hope closed his eyes, quiet as he listened to the delicate sound of harmless waves. He tried to picture it, the voice's face, but only brought about a blurry mess of colors. With a sigh, he opened his pale green eyes and stared ahead, his vision barely making out the mystified form of clear-white, luminous water as it scampered over black sand, abandoning sharp lumps of crystal at its edge as it pulled back to sea. Strange, very strange – like something out a fantasy – yet it was still beautiful and captivating even with its odd white-on-black appearance.

Hope tore his gaze from the distant shore, raised it the grey heavens and whispered, "What exactly happened to me?"

There was a moment of silence before the disembodied voice answered. "Long story short; one of the floats had a freak accident and you were unfortunate enough to get in the way of flying debris."

At its words, a pale hand went to rest against his side, and a dull ache throbbed beneath his fingers. A flurry of discolored and blurred scenes played in his mind, making no sort of sense as it failed to remind him of something. He released a ragged breath and his brows furrowed in concentration. His mind reeled to find something – anything, please – in its empty halls, but he only came across the silent echoes of what was once there. The emptiness frightened him, choked him until he gasped, and he secured his arms around his torso in an attempt to keep himself together. He felt as if at any moment, he would fall a apart or that his spirit would slip out his very bones and leave him empty, just like his memories had, and he'd be nothing more than an echo of his former self.

"Go home, Hope, you're worrying everyone the longer you stay here."

Everyone, Hope tried to search for the memory of 'everyone' but just like he thought, nothing surfaced.

"Who is everyone? Are you worried too?" He blurted out, genuinely curious at its answer. He slowly dropped his arms from around his body and twirled his fingers in the cold, damp sand, the delicate grains too soft against his callus digits. "If the decision is up to me, why can't I stay? For all I know, I could be dreaming." He knew his words had been right, but when they had left his lips he felt very, very wrong – and his head inclined from the weight of his guilt.

The disembodied voice did not respond and he wondered if it had given up on him, left him alone in the strangely barren beach. He wondered if it would have minded staying there with him, just filling his empty mind with its strange voice, and the more he pondered the more he became aware of the fear that began to wash over him; it left him drenched in cold gloom.

"Hope."

The closeness of the voice startled Hope and his attention snapped over to lock with a pair of fierce sapphires. "Lightning," The name rolled off his tongue easily as though he had known it was her the entire time. Deep down, a part of him knew it was her all along, but the part that had been busy with his empty mind refused to register such recognition. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get you home, but," Her fierce gaze hardened and she looked away to stare out at the white-on-black beach. "For the first time, I'm not succeeding."

"What do you mean, 'for the first time'? Who are you, really?" He inquired, his head tilted ever so slightly. His eyes remained fixated on her perfect profile; the high curve of her cheekbone, the pout of her pale lips. Beautiful and perfect in every way, he thought. Like a Goddess… Is that what you are?

An annoyed sound rumbled from deep within Lightning's chest and she glanced at him briefly, her eyes narrowed in annoyance but lips twitched upward in amusement. He looked away almost immediately, cheeks stained red.

"Are you always this persistent and annoying with your inquiries?" It didn't sound like a question, no matter how much she intended it to.

"Depends," Hope began; he knew his answer would frustrate the irritable woman. "If you keep answering my questions with more questions."

Lightning clicked her tongue against her teeth sharply before her lips pursed into a fine line. For the silent moment they shared, Hope feared for his life and he couldn't help but think that the slight glint in Lightning's eyes hinted that she was plotting something against him, or simply enjoying his discomfort. Definitely not a Goddess.

"The kid has wit." Lightning drawled out finally, her arms folded. "How about this,"

Hope's eyebrows rose in unison with her index finger and he speculated what she could possibly want to negotiate with him.

"You can't remember a thing, no?"

He shook his head, swallowed a lump, and distantly wondered if his empty mind was her doing.

"So, in exchange for you memories and those answers, you have to come back."

There was no way he could say no. It was a fair trade and he wanted nothing more than to rid his mind of empty echoes but then there was a deep knot that twisted his stomach with fear – fear of the mysterious woman beside him. Her sapphire eyes bore into his emerald ones and the longer their gazes stayed connected, the more her expression seemed to harden. Suddenly, she leaned over and rested her cheek against his.

Hope stopped breathing. His heart stopped beating.

Quietly, she whispered into his ear, "Return to me, Estheim."

Hope's arms snapped around him once again but he could not lock in his soul that time. Her voice unhinged his mind and all control over his body was gone as he was forced to oblige to her demand. It was as though her words had rendered him a marionette and he could only watch from afar. The opal and onyx landscape shattered, the sound of breaking glass stung his ears, and it dissolved into salt and pepper dust. The particles swirled around him in ribbons before it was sucked into a void behind Lightning. She gave no notice to the pressure of gravity behind her and his warnings caught in his throat when he felt gravity's hands pull him towards the abyss. He fought against the invisible hands and reached for Lightning as he was pulled away from her.

But his fingers only grazed strawberry tendrils.

Hope groaned as he shifted and stretched in every which way he could, dormant bones creaked and popped to life. He sighed and slowly opened his eyes to the brightly lit, stark white hospital room, the smell of disinfectant and stale air made his nose scrunch up. It was then that he noticed the utter discomfort that throbbed throughout his body; the IV in the crease of his right elbow, the tight oxygen mask around his mouth and nose and the pressure in his side that he felt tighten whenever he inhaled. It annoyed Hope more than the constant throb in his brain and he pulled off the oxygen mask as he shifted around in the bed once more – a failed attempt to find some type of comfort.

Of course, comfort never came. If anything, he felt the throbs of discomfort more prominent than before. Why, he thought. Why couldn't I just stay in that dream with her?

"I hate hospitals," Hope growled, the sound raspy and weak, and glared at the ceiling with a pout.

"I can see why,"

"What the…" Hope jumped and his eyes snapped to the only entrance into and out of his room. As soon as his gaze connected with Lightning's amused one, a chill ran down his spine and he suppressed a shudder – when had she walked in? She was propped up against the threshold with her arms folded loosely across her chest as though she hadn't been there long, but for some reason, he could not believe that she had just stepped into the room.

"What – why – when did – how did you get here?" Hope stammered as he pressed his back against the bed, the sudden movement made the pressure in his side sting and he winced. Before he could look at what caused him the sudden pain, Lightning had pushed herself away from the threshold and headed over to his bedside. She shifted her weight to the left, and he couldn't help but notice that she was not in the ivory and pearl embroidered dress she wore the day of the Primarch's parade, but instead, she adorned a PSICOM get up - save for the shoulder pauldrons that would show rank - which reminded him of Nabaat.

Huh, she's not even a part of PSICOM and she wears it far better than the Lieutenant Colonel ever could.

"What can I say," Lightning began, pulling Hope's attention to her eyes. "The nurses take a liking to me."

"Oh," Hope replied tersely, averting his gaze from her to his hands. The silence that followed was awkward, and uncomfortable, and it didn't help that the air around Lightning seemed charged – almost like her namesake. Strangely enough – no matter how awkward and uncomfortable and electrically charged she made him feel – he did not want to run away in fear of her, in fact, he felt in need of her presence.

That makes no sense, Estheim, you know you're terrified of her.

Hope shifted in place, only to yelp in surprise when the movement sent a sudden shockwave of pain throughout his body. Lightning had instinctively reached to grab his shoulder, keeping him from making any other sudden motions, but he hardly noticed her attempt.

"The... hell…?" He huffed, immediately throwing the sheets back and finding the source of his pain to be a thin, clear tube that disappeared into his right side – beneath the many layers of bandages that were stained red. "What... is that?"

"Chest tube, your lung collapsed." Lightning answered easily, pulling her gloved hand away from him.

"O-oh," Hope looked up at her, his cheeks flaring red when she sat down on the edge of the bed, and tried desperately to make his voice sound less weak. "I – that was – when I got hit by debris, right?" He asked. Lightning nodded and opened her mouth to explain but it snapped shut as soon as the door suddenly slid open, a collection of voices flooding into the room. In a matter of seconds, the room had gone from nearly empty, to populated with a total of seven bodies.

"…and he said he was going to come by later – Hope!" Maqui had been in the middle of a conversation with Yuj but cut off as soon as they entered the room and laid eyes on the patient. Hope would have laughed at everyone's flabbergasted faces had he not been surprised as well. Then, before Hope could stop her, Lightning quickly stood and left the room – taking her electrically charged atmosphere with her. No one made a sound until the door slammed shut.

After the initial "how are you feeling" and getting caught up with the things he missed during his week long coma, things settled on relatively normal conversations. Somehow, they had gotten off the terrifying topic of Rygdea's sudden shit load of work, to the gloriously wonderful topic of Lightning. When Lebreau casually mentioned that the strawberry headed woman would visit everyday, with Nabaat as her escort, their conversation came to abrupt halt. Their only notification that Hope was alive was the rapid beep of the heart monitor. Snow and Gadot, who were standing by the door silently, had suddenly snorted in unison.

"Is he ok?" Maqui muttered to Yuj who shrugged in response. Lebreau rolled her eyes and pushed by them to snap her fingers in front of Hope's face, successfully bringing him out of his dumbstruck state. The platinum blond spluttered out an incoherent jumble of words and, realizing that nothing intelligent was coming out, he sighed and sank back against the bed – his cheeks burning.

"S-Sorry I just –"

"Find it hard to believe that a gorgeous babe like her would take the time out to visit a puny university student like you?" Gadot interjected, gaining a glare from Lebreau and a weak hearted elbow to the ribs by Snow who was just too busy snickering. Maqui and Yuj looked caught between wanting to glare at Gadot and laugh at his terrible jab.

"Gadot, you're an ugly brute." Hope remarked with a roll of his eyes.

Gadot winced, looking as though he was genuinely insulted, and brought a hand to his heart. "Ouch, Hope, you know that hurts."

Hope chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah whatever, I was going to say that I was just surprised that they let her out of Edenhall."

"Yeah sure," Yuj said with a roll of his eyes, gaining a threatening glare from Hope. He pressed on, a little more seriously, "But who knows? Maybe it was a request from the Primarch?" Yuj suggested.

Hope shrugged but took it into consideration as he speculated his own theory. "Well, that would be a step up to giving her and the other Daughters more freedom."

"Or maybe," Snow began before Yuj could respond. There was a devious tone in the freakishly yellow-blond's voice. "Maybe she asked the Primarch to see you personally. I mean, even from far away, you could tell your stares did something to her. Then again, she is the one that didn't hesitate to dive off the float to save you."

"What – you saw – I – she – what?" Hope stammered, a blush colored his cheeks when the beep of the heart monitor stuttered for a few seconds too long. The sound drew boisterous laughter from Snow and Gadot, Gadot muttering something along the lines of, "the little virgin's got a crush!" hopefully, for Gadot's sake, that's just what Hope heard and not what he really said. Hope didn't catch whatever else was spoken to annoy him because of Lebreau's shouts at them for being "childish and annoying brutes".

Hope appreaciated the defense, but of course, the two brutes continued. Yuj and Maqui couldn't help but join in the laughter that time, making Hope more and more uncomfortable, with the need to hit them all - save Lebreau of course. Yet, despite his urge to assault them over the head with a blunt object, he could not help but allow himself to melt into the laughter and join in on playful banter.

The sting in his side was long forgotten.

Eventually, their unending sounds of laughter and conversation fluttered out into the hall and disturbed a handful of staff members – and possibly patients too – who sent in a nurse to kick them out by politely stating that Hope needed rest. Unable to argue, the group of young adults bid Hope farewell and filed out of the room to allow the nurse to do her job.

After that, everything was just a terrible blur, especially when his father called to say he was too busy to visit.

And when Lightning's visits came to an end.

Hope awoke a few hours before the sun was expected to peak over the horizon; it was a norm since the reason for his sudden consciousness was always the dull throb of pain in his side. He groaned, for what was probably the thousandth time that night, as he rolled off his stinging side and closed his eyes once more – trying desperately to fall back asleep. It had been a week since the hospital deemed him well enough to return home, and only home. Hope's doctor couldn't possibly stress the importance of him to stay in the house and get a ridiculous amount of rest for a whole month; but he did.

That, of course, did not sit well with Hope, but three days into his bedridden 'vacation', and he began to notice how seriously his friends and father had taken his doctor.

Not only had his father gone through the trouble to assign him a temporary bodyguard, but his group of friends had decided to alternate between visits during the day. While Lebreau only visited on fridays, the bar being more of handful now that he wasn't there to help her during the week, the others would stop by for as long as they could before Hope's bodyguard deemed it time for them to leave and for him to rest. No matter how much he argued with the damn officer to stop kicking his friends out, the man still did so anyway – mainly out of spite rather than genuine concern over Hope's health.

He'd figure out some way to get his dad to consider switching out the nameless officer for a different one, or no one for that matter. Patience, He told himself. The right time is all I need.

He rolled out of bed and went about his early morning activities as though it were any other day. He was in the middle of drying his damp hair before a strange sensation hit him like he had just rubbed a balloon all over his body; the charged atmosphere made the tiny hairs on his skin stand on end. If the unusual static electricity wasn't a dead give away to Lightning's presence in his house, then it was the sudden commotion that started with a muffled thump.

Hope quickly pulled on a plain white tee-shirt and grey sweats before he silently crept into the hallway and down the stairs, his ears gradually picking up the hushed whispers of more than one person.

Did she come with someone? Wait, how did she even get here? The thoughts made his heart quicken as he began to consider the possibility that his accusations were wrong – and that he was crazy to think it could be Lightning, someone in custody by the Sanctum. The heavily armed and secured Sanctum.

Shit, I'm so stupid! He stood at the bottom of the stairs, frozen as he peered through the darkness to the silhouettes of three figures. One of them slumped to the floor – which he guessed was the bodyguard – and the other two shifted before one quickly made their way over to him.

"Another one? I thought you said there was only one!" The closer person hissed as they advanced on Hope. Hope's head reeled – unable to stop and register that the voice sounded familiar – and he turned on his heels to dart back up the stairs. He made it as far as two stairs before a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt – him fighting and flailing the entire time – and pulled him back towards them.

"Hey, wait, that's –" The second voice was cut off by Hope who continued to demand release as he thrashed against the hard grip around his shirt.

"I said let go!" Hope bellowed just as one of his flailing hands finally struck soft skin with a loud slap, the connection of their skin sent a strange bolt of electricity to tingle through his fingers and down his arm. There was a strangled hiss and he was suddenly released from the person's hold. The lights flicked on and Hope shut his eyes for a brief second before he opened them once more. The white faded and his eyes focused on Maqui first, who was across the room with his fingers on the light switch, before his gaze travelled to the person directly in front of him.

"L-Lighting?" Hope gasped; his heart stuttered and flew into his throat. Then it plummeted to his stomach when he realized that she had a hand pressed to her cheek. He could barely make out the pink that was slowly turning red beneath her pale fingertips. Part of him prayed that she was merciful in vengeance, while the other stumbled over apologies and prepared him to grovel. "Oh man, I'm so sorry! I thought –"

"It's fine." She interjected through gritted teeth and dropped her hand. Hope frowned and looked away; he could feel himself slowly sinking into a pool of guilt and regret – and possibly his grave.

"Hey Hope," Maqui said, breaking the awkward silence that weighed the air down just as much as the static had. "Got any coffee and food? I'm starving and I won't be able to go back sleep after such an eventful morning."

Hope stared at the bowl of pancake batter dubiously as he whisked at it, vaguely aware of Lightning's intense stare. "So, wait, let me get this straight," He paused to replay Maqui's words in his head and try to make sense of them. It was harder than he thought, especially with Lightning playing mute for the time being. He had to think of a plan to break through to her, and get her to talk… that's if she doesn't melt him with her signature death glares.

"You're saying she possessed you?" Hope turned to look at Maqui with a raised brow.

"Ugh, yes, Hope! I don't know the mechanics of all her magic mumbo jumbo – but one second I was talking to Yuj about seeing you on my day off from the shop tomorrow and the next," The blond threw his arms up, flailed them for a fraction of a second, and pointed an accusing finger at Lightning. "She comes out of nowhere, touches Yuj's shoulder and he blacks out, then I'm hearing her voice in my head telling me what to do and – and I just do what she says! By the way, you could've just asked for what you wanted."

"That would have required me to explain myself and I did not want you to say no." Lightning said as she rolled her eyes, giving a careless shrug.

"Well, with that stunt you pulled on Yuj I'm sure you would've gotten me to say yes one way or another." Maqui retorted under his breath.

"Anyway," Lightning growled, her tone hinting to the patience that ran on fumes, and she folded her arms across her chest tightly and pressed clenched fists against her sides. "I want to get this over with as soon as possible." She fixed Hope with a hard gaze, causing the platinum blonde to swallow a lump. "Will you help me?"

For a few moments, Hope stared at her incredulously. While part of him wanted to say yes with no second thoughts, another part of him – a notably bigger part – squashed the urge. "I'd like to know who and what you are first," He demanded, not catching her glare as he turned back to whisking the batter. "And why do you need my help?"

"I'm sure you know why," Lightning began, stretching her last words as though they were keywords to vital information. Hope imagined that she had stretched her terribly short patience level with them, but he wondered how long that would last before she snapped.

That's one thing that should be left unknown.

"Even if I do know, I'd like to know from you and what you plan to do exactly." Hope answered calmly, surprised at how steady his voice was as opposed to the unnerving nervousness that seemed to pulse in his veins. Although it did little to help his anxiety, Hope kept his gaze fixated on the task at hand; slowly dicing strawberries and dropping them into the batter. However, the task did help him keep his scrambled thoughts somewhat stable, intelligible for him to convert into words.

The lack of response form Lightning made the silence seem deafening, and as soon as he was done dicing the last strawberry, he dropped the knife to the cutting board and turned to face the woman. He gazed at her as she stared down at the coffee mug in her hands, her fingers rigid against the ceramic, and the wispy tendrils of her hair obscured her expression. The silence continued to stretch and Hope briefly glanced at Maqui, exchanging a look of confusion and curiosity with him, before his gaze turned back to the woman.

Then, Lightning shifted, pushing the coffee mug away from her, and looked up with a hard look of determination.

"I want complete freedom from the Sanctum, they took everything from me – from us – and I want more than ever to have a life away from the confines of Edenhall; I want it for all of us." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as her gaze locked with Hope's, and he could see the ghost of sadness and anger behind cracked walls of defense. "And I know your father wants it, I've heard it – when he talks to Nabaat about the others and I. You can influence your father more than anyone else can and when it comes to rest of the Sanctum, like Nabaat, your argument will be taken into consideration more than mine ever will."

Hope let out a soft, shaky breath, one that he held in the entire time Lightning spoke. He looked to Maqui for some sort of encouragement but the young man looked just as taken aback and at a loss for words as he was. Unable to answer – or face – her, Hope turned away and quickly went to the mindless task of pouring the strawberry batter onto the heated griddle to make perfectly round pancakes. He could practically feel Lightning's eyes boring into the back of his head, quite literally too. He could feel it, her strange presence trying to force its way into his mind, and pick out the answer she needed for herself. He didn't allow it and somehow - he wasn't quite sure how - he was easily pushing away her probing magic.

Hope knew when it registered, her failure to take over his mind, when the kitchen chair collided with the linoleum floor and the air had suddenly stung his skin – like the prickling sensation when blood returns to a limb that fell asleep. Hope sighed as he flipped the pancakes over one by one, desperately trying to push away the fear and nervousness of letting her down (he didn't like promising things he wasn't even sure about) so that he could answer her.

"I-I'll help you," Hope said, his voice barely above a whispered but he knew she heard him. "But you should know; it could take months."

"I know that," Lightning replied calmly, but he could hear the hint of relief in her voice. "Probably even years, so many people will be against it but… It'll work."

In the midst of her words Lightning had made her way over to him and Hope glanced at her, not quite prepared for the intensity behind sapphires. There was determination and – despite the skepticism that hardened her expression – trust. It seemed that in that moment, their partnership was sealed, whether they knew it or not.

He had to admit, he admired her determination and confidence. She knew the chances of being free from the Sanctum were slim, very slim, but she did not come off as the type to be deterred in her attempt at going to the ends of the universe - just to reach her goal.

Maqui cleared his throat to make his presence known and Lightning was the first to break their eye contact, going back to the table and picking up the overturned chair. Hope's eyes followed her, lingering a bit too long, before they went to Maqui who grinned at him knowingly, eyebrows somehow managing to wiggle.

Hope knew that look, that all-knowing, perverted look that took his staring the wrong way - completely. Hope's cheeks burned and he made an awkward sound at the back of his throat – I was not checking her out you ass! – before he immediately turned back to the slightly overcooked pancakes.

Breakfast had gone by terribly slow; a whole torturous hour.

It started off rather fine though.

Hope had given Maqui the overcooked pancakes – the blond swore vengeance – while he and Lightning ate perfectly cooked ones. Lightning's first bite, however, had her cring at the tangy sweetness of the strawberries and she glared down at the fruit in her pancakes. Hope's heart sank – I should've asked what she liked! – and he immediately stumbled over an apology.

"I'm sorry, I-I should've asked if," His words caught in his throat when Lightning shook her head, shoving a forkful of pancake slices into her mouth. He blinked, thoroughly confused, and looked at Maqui who merely shrugged. The platinum blond looked back to Lighting as she took a sip of orange juice, a strange look overcame her, and he found that he couldn't decipher a thing.

"Food at Edenhall isn't like this." Lightning said softly.

"Really," Maqui asked, his mouth full of pancakes. He swallowed his food before continuing; "I pictured it to be all fancy and whatnot."

Lightning snorted, took another sip of orange juice, and shook her head. "No, it's hardly fancy but it's not prison food either. We're fed what we need."

"When was the last time you had homemade food?" Hope asked but immediately regretted it when the woman's lips tugged down. She shrugged, dropping her eyes to her plate, and continued eating.

I guess I struck a cord? I... shouldn't have said that...

Hope wanted to disappear into the floor.

And so the remainder of the hour went by slow, too slow for either of the three to take, but no one dared to disturb the silence. The only sound of life in the house were the sounds of forks scraping against plates and the soft clinks of glass hitting a wooden table.

Lightning spoke only to thank Hope for breakfast and offer to help clean up. When he declined, stating that she was a guest, she merely nodded and headed for the living room. The woman was silent for the rest of the morning, lost in whatever occupied her mind and clouded her eyes.

And Hope continued to wallow in his guilt.

"Hey Hope," Maqui called as he entered the kitchen. Said man looked over to his friend as he dried off the final dish. "Um – that bodyguard of yours – did you lock him away in the basement or something? He's been quiet all throughout breakfast and Lightning said she hadn't seen him since she knocked him out."

"No, I didn't…" Hope trailed off, his fingers tightening over the plate, as his mind was suddenly reeling with all sorts of possibilities to where the officer could have gone.

"Oh… No… No, no, no…" He rushed out of the kitchen, the sound of broken ceramic was never heard, and skidded to a halt as the doorbell rang in his ears.

Lightning was beside him in seconds, hissing words that he didn't hear over rushing blood and a pounding heart. The bell continued to ring and Hope reluctantly went over to the door, Lightning stopped him, her fingers around his wrist.

"Hope, don't! What if it's-" Her words were cut off by the sudden sound of a knock. Hope's finger froze on the button that would open the door, the knocking stung the silence and his ears, and he pressed the button.

Please be Lebreau… or Snow… or Gadot… please don't be PSICOM… please don't be PSICOM… please –

The door slid open and Hope's heart disappeared and his throat tightened as the foyer was suddenly crowded with PSICOM sentries. Hope's arms were forced behind him and he looked over to see Lightning and Maqui struggling against the officers that grabbed them. Lightning looked at Hope with a glare and he shook his head as he was pushed out of the house. He didn't doubt that she could easily overpower the PSICOM grunts, and he was quite tempted to step out of her way and let her take them down, but he knew it would only worsen their situation.

"Hope Estheim," The commanding officer began as Hope and the others were lined up in front of him. "You are under arrest for aggravated assault against a PSICOM officer and the abduction of Sanctum property." The officer's eyes flickered to Lightning who growled, muttering something along the lines of 'belonging to no one', under her breath.

Hope was stunned into silence while Maqui tried to argue their innocence - only to be silenced by the butt of a gun to the back of his head.

Great, first the float accident and now this, Hope sighed mentally.