Final Fantasy XIII fic, Hope-centric
Title: More Than A Gun In The Hand
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII
Characters/Pairings: Hope-centric, but the whole party appears in some way. Hints of Fang/Vanille, but only as much as the source.
Spoilers: Through Chapter 11.
Rating/Warnings: PG; exploration of the whole '13-year-old in combat' thing.
Written For: ff_fortnightly; game mechanics prompt
Summary: Hope hates being support. A series of four drabbles.
Author's Notes: I did not ever expect to write Sazh, nor did I plan on writing Vanille without Fang. Strange things happen. For purposes of story, assume they are not developed outside their primary three roles. Title from a quote from To Kill A Mockingbird.
----
Hope hates being the support.
He hates watching Fang and Lightning and Sazh (and Snow) charge into battle against things the size of a house, and knowing that no matter how good they are, they’re going to get hit. With magic, with poisons, with debilitating spells, with massive claws, and tails, and teeth. Snow and Fang, they’re even going to taunt the monsters, jump right into the hits. All of them are going to wince, and stumble, and stagger. And it’s going to be his job to fix them, fast, before another blow finishes them off. And it’s going to be his job to switch the patterns of his mind and cover them in shields, as many as he can, as fast as he can, so that whatever blows they take will hurt as little as possible.
They’re counting on him to do it. Counting on him, and on Vanille, and sometimes on Sazh. Snow even says so, when he snaps at the older man for being so reckless all the time. “Hey, no worries. We’ve got you to fix us up!” And he claps Hope on the shoulder and grins, and Hope has to swallow so he doesn’t puke.
----
Hope goes to Vanille first, in the Arc, while the grown-ups are comparing maps of the place.
“How do you do it?” he asks, looking at his hands. “Trying to keep Fang safe while she fights?”
Vanille tilts her head to the side, eyeing him. “What do you mean?”
“Well - like - how can you just watch her jump in front of a bullet, and know you’re going to have to heal her before another one hits?”
She shrugs. “I just do. I’ve always been able to before, and anyway, she’s strong.” Turning her head to gaze at the other woman, she adds, “The hard part is stopping her from starting stupid fights.”
Hope bites his lip. But what if - what if you take just a little too long and she gets shot again, and she collapses? What if you’re trying to keep yourself alive and you don’t see they’re in trouble until it’s too late? What if you’re a little too weak and it’s a little too long and you can’t wake her up? What if she dies because you couldn’t keep her safe?
It’s all too easy to imagine. He’s seen all of them get hurt too many times
----
Sazh and Hope are settled by the fire in Oerba. For just a bit, it’s only the two of them, Sazh nursing a sore ankle and Hope tired after a rough day. It’s quiet.
“Sazh?” Hope whispers. The pilot turns to him.
“Yeah?”
“Is it…” He hesitates. “Is it hard for you? Being - watching the others fight, and knowing it’s your job to stop them from getting hurt?”
Sazh closes his eyes and thinks about watching Vanille fight, when he thought she was only a sweet, airheaded kid. Knowing all he could do to keep her safe was make her stronger, make her faster, and try to kill whatever monster they fought before it could kill her. Or him.
It’s sort of like holding Dajh’s branded hand as the Sanctum doctors fill his arms with needles. It’s sort of like watching his wife get sick, completely unable to do anything for her except keep their lives running and encourage her to keep holding on.
Those things - those were the hardest parts of his entire life, harder than the fear and the monsters and the present.
He doesn’t even want to think about how rough it must be for the kid.
----
Hope hates being the support.
It terrifies him beyond belief. It makes him sick and speechless and leaves him shaking after every single battle. Just the thought of it makes him as tense and tight as Lightning’s fists when she’s stubbornly refusing to cry.
But the last thing he wants is to lose those sparks of green and purple at his fingertips. Nothing is more important than keeping his friends - his new family - safe.
He isn’t going to let them die. He just can’t.
He clenches his jaw and watches Lightning charge and keeps the spells crackling at the ready.
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII
Characters/Pairings: Hope-centric, but the whole party appears in some way. Hints of Fang/Vanille, but only as much as the source.
Spoilers: Through Chapter 11.
Rating/Warnings: PG; exploration of the whole '13-year-old in combat' thing.
Written For: ff_fortnightly; game mechanics prompt
Summary: Hope hates being support. A series of four drabbles.
Author's Notes: I did not ever expect to write Sazh, nor did I plan on writing Vanille without Fang. Strange things happen. For purposes of story, assume they are not developed outside their primary three roles. Title from a quote from To Kill A Mockingbird.
----
Hope hates being the support.
He hates watching Fang and Lightning and Sazh (and Snow) charge into battle against things the size of a house, and knowing that no matter how good they are, they’re going to get hit. With magic, with poisons, with debilitating spells, with massive claws, and tails, and teeth. Snow and Fang, they’re even going to taunt the monsters, jump right into the hits. All of them are going to wince, and stumble, and stagger. And it’s going to be his job to fix them, fast, before another blow finishes them off. And it’s going to be his job to switch the patterns of his mind and cover them in shields, as many as he can, as fast as he can, so that whatever blows they take will hurt as little as possible.
They’re counting on him to do it. Counting on him, and on Vanille, and sometimes on Sazh. Snow even says so, when he snaps at the older man for being so reckless all the time. “Hey, no worries. We’ve got you to fix us up!” And he claps Hope on the shoulder and grins, and Hope has to swallow so he doesn’t puke.
----
Hope goes to Vanille first, in the Arc, while the grown-ups are comparing maps of the place.
“How do you do it?” he asks, looking at his hands. “Trying to keep Fang safe while she fights?”
Vanille tilts her head to the side, eyeing him. “What do you mean?”
“Well - like - how can you just watch her jump in front of a bullet, and know you’re going to have to heal her before another one hits?”
She shrugs. “I just do. I’ve always been able to before, and anyway, she’s strong.” Turning her head to gaze at the other woman, she adds, “The hard part is stopping her from starting stupid fights.”
Hope bites his lip. But what if - what if you take just a little too long and she gets shot again, and she collapses? What if you’re trying to keep yourself alive and you don’t see they’re in trouble until it’s too late? What if you’re a little too weak and it’s a little too long and you can’t wake her up? What if she dies because you couldn’t keep her safe?
It’s all too easy to imagine. He’s seen all of them get hurt too many times
----
Sazh and Hope are settled by the fire in Oerba. For just a bit, it’s only the two of them, Sazh nursing a sore ankle and Hope tired after a rough day. It’s quiet.
“Sazh?” Hope whispers. The pilot turns to him.
“Yeah?”
“Is it…” He hesitates. “Is it hard for you? Being - watching the others fight, and knowing it’s your job to stop them from getting hurt?”
Sazh closes his eyes and thinks about watching Vanille fight, when he thought she was only a sweet, airheaded kid. Knowing all he could do to keep her safe was make her stronger, make her faster, and try to kill whatever monster they fought before it could kill her. Or him.
It’s sort of like holding Dajh’s branded hand as the Sanctum doctors fill his arms with needles. It’s sort of like watching his wife get sick, completely unable to do anything for her except keep their lives running and encourage her to keep holding on.
Those things - those were the hardest parts of his entire life, harder than the fear and the monsters and the present.
He doesn’t even want to think about how rough it must be for the kid.
----
Hope hates being the support.
It terrifies him beyond belief. It makes him sick and speechless and leaves him shaking after every single battle. Just the thought of it makes him as tense and tight as Lightning’s fists when she’s stubbornly refusing to cry.
But the last thing he wants is to lose those sparks of green and purple at his fingertips. Nothing is more important than keeping his friends - his new family - safe.
He isn’t going to let them die. He just can’t.
He clenches his jaw and watches Lightning charge and keeps the spells crackling at the ready.