Aaaaand yep. (Long-ass A/N this time)

So this chapter's early, but then again, the epilogue (this time around) was meant to be short and sweet, but I'll go ahead and give myself a lollipop for being early, hooray! The thanks list is LONG this time around-thank you too all of you who've stuck with me on this particular ride, with its ups and down, and... everything in between that's happened. D:

Thank you to: Zapper90, LawMan, Jack Hargreave, Castiel, Whistlewind Wolf, YuffentineRippalLightHope, resistance123, Dash Handsom, Mylaervain, SlowActingPoison, 2 lol, HappyHope, Lightarcana, kanarie, ChileanGuest, Lieutenant General Sora Hikaru, hopeNlight, Saccharo, That Random Guy, KeeepSmiling, madapocket, Tager96, thewhitespirit, Berl, GunMetalX, Crowley, Crystal, VengeanceUpholding, Myrrdinfalcon, homerninja88, and all the other numerous anons that didn't leave me a name to call them by other than "Guest". :( Thank you guys so much - this fic wouldn't have made it here without all of you, whether it was in reviews or just by favourites/alerts, so thank you all again for making my first fic (if this can even be called that, but you guys get the idea, right?) such a successful one. (And if I missed you, I'm sorry - I went through 19 pages of reviews, so I do apologize if I did).

Special Thanks:
To LadyAlaska—without whom this fic and its prequel would've never come to exist without,
To H-thar—who kept me alive these last few treacherous weeks (month(s)?) with the humour and slice-of-life topics that have never failed to make me smile,
To That One Reviewee—whose support and insight have just been amazing,
To GKMader—who I know is still waiting for that oneshot, and I have to apologize for because that's still in its planning stages. :(

That being said, I'm not done with all the HxL after this - those two are an inescapable part of my life and dammit, why are they so awesome? *cries* I've already got a new HxL fic in the works; chapter 1 has already been posted under the FFXIII-2 fandom and I can't wait to get started on that. The glorious HxL moments that are forthcoming are literally making me squirm in my seat right now and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. (With regards to that, I'm hoping for an update process much like this fic has been since September - once a week, give or take?) I'll be taking a bit of a break between now and posting chapter 2, which'll come hopefully this side of December or so, so I'll see you all soon! c:

That being said, drop a review if you're so inclined; I'd love some feedback in preparation for some soon-to-be HxL. Enjoy as always!

Epilogue: Alone Right Now

Wind crept in slow motion across the heavy blades of summer grass; touched to silver by the rising moonlight, it was tranquil in a way she wouldn't have associated with Pulse just less than a year ago. The shimmering shell of Cocoon cast with a bluish light just visible over the tops of the trees, Lightning tightened her arms around her knees, the thin silver bands fitted around one finger catching the faint light as she did so.

The sight of them still drew something of an exasperated smile to her lips whenever they caught her attention, but three months into the concept called 'marriage' hadn't really changed anything and she knew it. It was something she still had to get used to—but this time, it was more of the notion itself than what the term actually embodied.

The raucous laughter of Snow drifting from the open door to the living room, she'd left half an hour to escape from it. He'll never learn, will he? Stopping in on one of his errands, by the time she'd gotten home, he'd already been sitting on her couch. Pinching the bridge of her nose at the memory, the 'casual' jokes had escalated to the point that if she hadn't been conscious of Hope discreetly trying to calm her down behind her back, she might've incapacitated him for.

As things were, staring outside to the dark outline of trees didn't quite soothe that particular annoyance and Lightning didn't have any plans whatsoever to go back in until the big blond had left. Restless energy pent up somewhere inside, she got to her feet, movements aimless until they took her to the base of the tree, gnarled roots coming off to her as black in the dim lighting provided by the still-rising moon. Sinking down again, back to the rough surface of the bark, the idle fingers of her right hand played with the fallen leaves that had landed around her, toying with their spiky edges.

Hey… Serah? We'll be okay, right?

It was a reassurance she'd wanted since day one—and one that no one could give her. Well aware of this particular fact, it didn't stop her from thinking about it nor did Lightning think she would ever stop thinking about it. He told me to believe in it—the future we both wanted to create. But is it enough? That was a question she didn't think she had an answer to; a question no one had an answer to.

And thinking back, she couldn't have had an answer to any of the things that'd happened to them… not without prior knowledge; not without the effort that had been made on more than one person's behalf to try to get her to open up. Tch. The mental image of that made her want to snort out loud. When I first met him back in the Hanging Edge, could I really have imagined falling in love with the kid I wanted to ditch in the Vile Peaks?

Lightning didn't think she wanted to answer that question for herself either.

But I'm not going to lie. I wouldn't have gotten here—I wouldn't be here—if he wasn't; there wouldn't be the future I would've wanted because I wouldn't have believed I had one.

Leaning her head back for a moment, staring at the quivering silhouettes of red leaves outlined in black above her head, it was like those memories had come back with a vengeance. Mixed between something she could admit was happiness and the complete flipside of that, they'd almost become a record of sorts—loves and losses buried under the weight of everything that'd happened. Closing her eyes, their tangibility frightened her; the way she could feel those emotions as though she was still there wasn't something she thought Hope would be happy to know about.

But I can't help it—there're some things I can't forget and there're things that've happened that I would never have made it here without. It had been something that she'd come to realize on her own—that she never would've come to stand where she was now without everything that had happened to her. And somehow, it was a lonely feeling, one that she wasn't sure was right for her to contemplate: that she would've never made it to where she was now if Serah hadn't…

Stop.

She didn't think she could handle the emotional backlash if her thoughts went there and Lightning forced herself to stop, trying to calm the already-aggravated heartbeat that had settled at the base of her throat. Slender fingers tightening on the hem of the thin sweatpants underneath the cotton of her tank top, she forced herself to calm down. Stop. That's not helping… and you know it.

Blinking open aquamarine eyes, she stared upwards again, finding the silvery edge of the moon that had just bitten into the bottom curve of Cocoon's shell, turning the entire crystal structure into a luminous blue orb. Keeping her eyes on the sight, she worked on taking exaggerated breaths, something she hoped her heartbeat would begin to emulate sooner or later.

Focussing on the task at hand, she didn't hear the soft crunch crunch of footsteps on grass until they were too close for her to run away from—until Lightning remembered that she wasn't supposed to have a reason to. Panic filled her chest for a moment; she didn't want him to see her like this and who knew how much Hope could piece together when he saw her expression face-to-face?

Working on keeping her gaze straight ahead, he settled beside her, silent for a few moments, making no move to distract her in any way. She didn't know if he knew something was off; the restless movement of his hands made her sure that he knew something wasn't right and he wanted to do something about it. "Snow left, you know," he remarked finally, fingers pausing in their weaving of strands of grass, "if that's the reason you banished yourself out here for."

Part of her wanted her to tell him why she was still here; the other half of her screamed that that was a stupid thing to do. Unsure of whether she was supposed to respond or not, Lightning stared down at her hands again, forcibly making her fingers their trembling; clasping them together against her knees, she wasn't sure if he'd noticed that particular effort to hide that.

She felt him shift ever so slightly next to her; the skin on their arms now touching, she was envious of the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, wishing that her body was capable of emulating it at this particular moment. And now he knows for sure something's wrong. Not like I would've been able to hide it for very long in the first place.

"Okay," Hope finally breathed out, "I can tell something's bothering you right now… it's not just Snow, is it?" The slightly abashed tone in his voice made her feel like he was trying to coax an answer out of a reluctant kid, and that thought didn't make her feel better—because in some ways, Lightning felt like one; it wasn't his fault she'd been using him as an emotional walking stick and the only person she had to blame was herself. When she didn't reply immediately, he took a different approach, the insistence in his quiet tones a little more obvious than it had been before. "What's wrong?"

Looking down at her hands, Lightning wasn't sure if she wanted to give him a straight answer or not; she hadn't foreseen dragging him into her own personal emotional difficulties this time around and the breadth of the concepts she'd tried to already think through scared her. But he was waiting for an answer, and she knew him too well to hope that he would let her off without one. "Just… thinking about some things."

To her surprise, her voice came out stronger than she would've expected it to be; the catch at the end of it wasn't quite as noticeable and she hoped—hoped—that that would convince him that it wasn't anything serious. "Like what?" Hope asked lightly, the casual tone in his voice hinting that he knew more than he let on, and Lightning felt a stab of something akin to guilt mixed with a certain amount of frustration; he knew her too well to know that it couldn't be something as simple as she'd tried to imply and humouring her, as he was doing now, didn't change the fact that he wanted to help her.

Looking away, finding a spot on a pine tree close to the edge of her property to fix her gaze on, she took a breath. Be honest—he was never anything but with you and it's the least you can do… you owe it to him to be honest too. "You really want to know?" It—It's not something I would've wanted you to deal with; it's wrong, even in my head, and saying it out loud would only make it worse.

She heard a small, sharp intake of breath somewhere near the vicinity of her forehead, before he let it out slowly; the muscles underneath the arm touching hers tensed for a moment before relaxing. "Yeah… it's better if you just say it, rather than keeping it to yourself, right?"

Still carefully looking away, Lightning felt her hands tighten around her knees again, nails digging into her skin. Drawing her knees to her chest, she buried the lower half of her face against them, bangs slipping into her direct field of vision. "If none of this had happened," she started quietly, the whisper muffled against her knees, "would we be where we are now?"

The extended silence that dragged on between them told her Hope knew exactly what 'this' was and his inability to form something only went to confirm that it was wrong. Trying to amend that mistake, Lightning lifted her head from her knees. "Look, Hope, I—it was stupid, okay? Forget I ever said anything." I didn't mean to…

He caught her lower arm when she made a motion to get up.

"Light, stop," he begged her, "that's not what I meant." The soft spike of pain at the back of his voice made her freeze. "It just… You surprised me, that's all."

That statement made her look around to stare at him for the first time, trepidation and something akin to guilt rising at the back of her throat when she caught the flicker of anguish in his expression. "Why?" she choked out, hating the emotions that crossed the back of his gaze and hating herself even more for being the cause of them.

He met her gaze for the fraction of a heartbeat before looking away, the grip he had on her wrist tightening. "Because, well… it's something I've asked myself," he finally admitted quietly, flicking his eyes up to gauge her expression before looking down again. Hope didn't give her the chance to say something before he continued. "It's been something I've been wondering ever since… ever since the first time things happened… you know? If Mom didn't die back at the Hanging Edge, would I ever have met you?" The emotions at the back of the simple question wanted to make her run—Lightning hadn't been prepared to deal with this sort of vulnerability, especially from Hope, who she'd always—shamefully—come to count on for emotional support; hearing the barely suppressed pain at the back of those words made her remember that things weren't one way and that only went to magnify the sense of guilt that was rising at the back of her throat.

I didn't mean…

Out of things to say before one of them would've taken advantage of the frayed emotions she was struggling to keep under control, she simply kept her gaze averted, finding their conjoined fingers limp at her side only to remember that was what he was looking at too. "Sorry," she murmured, glad that the one syllable word didn't rake through the last vestiges of composure like they didn't exist. "I didn't mean to…"

"Hey. " The soft crunch of grass as Hope shifted his position was accompanied by something warm pressing down against their now interlocked fingers. "Telling me was better than keeping it shut up inside, okay? Don't worry about it." The quiet conviction in his voice made her look up; the tranquility in his gaze startled her.

Taking a breath, Lightning bit the inside of her bottom lip, trying to gather what was left of her thoughts when a particularly ironic one crossed her mind. Funny. Life or death situations, I can deal with. But when it comes down to how I feel—and how I deal with those feelings, I feel more helpless than a kid. "So… how do you deal with this?" she asked quietly. "How do you keep going with that hanging over your head?"

"Because it's only going to hurt you, if you keep thinking like that. All the what-if's won't help you when you can't change them." He tugged at her wrist gently. "I guess… the real answer is that we won't know—we'll never know. So thinking about it like that… it's not worth your time thinking through, okay?"

The evenness to his tone was calming, in a way, and Lightning could admit that she wanted to believe him—there was a part of her, selfishly, that wanted to stop hurting. The enormity of that thought struck her perhaps a heartbeat after it crossed her consciousness. "So… I should just… stop thinking about it?" she mumbled, unsure if the answer was even a right one.

She looked up to find the faintest hint of a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. "Something like that. Look," he continued, seriousness sliding slowly back into his tone, "I'm not saying it doesn't hurt. Because it does… and because I know there're some things that aren't meant to be forgotten. But… it doesn't have to hurt forever if you don't want it to—Serah wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life thinking about stuff like that… she would've wanted you to be happy, even if she wasn't there."

The soft remark pulled up a long buried memory, one that tugged sharply at her heart. "You see? None of this would've happened, if I didn't step out to save you. So it's okay, because I know that they'll be something beautiful in that future." The words drawing a faint sound from the back of her throat, hearing and remembering them again didn't make it hurt any less than it had before.

Except this time… I want to believe them. I-I couldn't have foreseen it then… but now, right now, it's something that I think I can believe.

Suddenly pulled into an advertent, unexpected embrace, Lightning found her forehead bumping awkwardly with his throat, her own arms still limp at her sides as Hope wrapped his around her back. Surprised for a few heartbeats, she allowed herself to relax into it, the sudden warmth more calming than she would've liked to admit on a good day as she slowly raised her hands to rest on his shoulders. "You have a future, okay?" The quiet reassurance beside her right ear was a little hesitant and it didn't take her long to figure out which one of her reactions had warranted that. "So don't… you know."

The last sentence drew a half-amused, half-still anguished laugh from her lips; shaking her head slightly, Lightning tightened her grip on him. "Right… sorry," she apologized again, shifting back in earnest to stare up at his expression. "I really am sorry," she clarified quietly, "I didn't mean to bring something like that up when…"

Hope gave her the gentlest of all shakes. "Stop," he repeated, meeting her gaze with his own intent green one, "for the last time—it's okay. Just… remember it next time, okay?" The slight teasing edge to those words elicited the ghost of a smile from the corner of her lips when he drew her closer. His lips touched hers, drawing memories created since the time she'd mentioned those vulnerabilities last; the thought was strong enough to maintain the small smile when she returned it, slipping her arms around his shoulders, bringing one hand against his neck.

He drew back after a few moments, sliding his gaze back to hers. "I love you."

Lightning held his gaze, the words no longer sounding foreign, awkward, or by any stretch of the imagination something that would've been hard to admit in the time that had passed in the months since; reiterated quietly over and over, the syllables felt familiar and wholly right—only magnified when it didn't feel difficult at all to return them. "I love you too." Because of everything that's happened… and everything that'll come to be. It's not something that'll be changed by that future, no matter what happens.

As her forehead slipped forwards to rest against the hollow of his throat, she slowly pulled her free arm to wrap around her stomach.

I know it.