Sliver of Light: Promise
Disclaimer: Young dragon, the subject, of bunny-girl fantasy. She wants him, so badly, knows what she wants to be…Don't own! Don't own them! Don't own Fairy Tail!
A/n: I happen to be in love with the crack-theory that Sting and Rogue are the children of Natsu/Lucy and Gajeel/Levy from the future. Though, it's not likely to happen, and there may be things in canon that counteract this theory, I still find myself enjoying it way too much. Decided there needed to be more fics for Twin Paradox Slayers Theory to fuel the crack. Thus, this little piece was born. It's a bit Sting and Lucy-centric with some commentary by some ever-helpful Fairy Tail guild members (among others).
When it is cold, he cannot sleep well. When it is completely dark, and not a single pinprick of light exists, he cannot get to slumber any easier. It is when his father leaves, that he cannot feel the warmth, so he tries to go to bed cold. On the rare occasions when his mother goes with his father, that is when the black descends for a sleepless night. But Sting has never really slept well since the dragons came.
Eight hours ago, Natsu and Lucy Dragneel left the small and simple home they had made together, and headed out to help with the gathering of supplies from the ruins of Crocus. They had left their son, Sting, with Lucy's best friend, Levy Redfox, and her mate, Gajeel. Sting had not cried when he watched his parents leave, as he stood next to his best friend and almost a brother, Rogue. He was proud of his parents and happy to spend some time with his extended family. However, it was night now.
Sting was not going to get any sleep tonight. It was too dark and cold, and he was scared. He did not want to feel guilty because of Levy and Gajeel, he loved them almost as much as he loved his mother and father, but the little dragon slayer felt exceedingly afraid.
"R-Ryos?" whispered Sting. It was so quiet in the little room they were sharing together; the black-haired boy lay asleep on the bed, next to the tiny blonde. The nature of their lives had them sleeping in the same bed often. "Ryos…" his voice trailed off.
As Rogue continued to breathe evenly in a heavy sleep, Sting decided to crawl out of the bed and head for the fire pit that had once been full of flames during the early evening. Maybe he could light it once again so that he could try to get some shut-eye.
He bent over what were mostly ashes. He wanted to whimper, but he was afraid to make too much noise in the overwhelming darkness. His blue eyes turned to the figure in the bed, and then to the door. After an agonizingly long amount of time, Sting decided to leave. "Sorry, Ryos," he whispered.
Sting had felt strong once he had made the choice to leave the Redfox house, but now that he was outside on his own, the young child felt his anxiety growing. But it should not be that hard to get home, he felt; the two families lived practically next door to one another after all. He could do this, right?
However, little Sting's legs were shaking because he wanted nothing more than to run, yet he was too terrified to move more than a slow step at a time.
He unexpectedly looked up, only to spot some scarce light ahead that was cresting over a hill before him. The dragon slayer knew home had to be in that direction; he suddenly felt as if that was the only way to go. So he started running and picking up speed. He made it over the hill in less than a few minutes, and the light began to grow. Sting ran faster toward it, the light getting brighter and brighter as he went. Even when he came to a forest, the light seemingly just beyond it, Sting continued to charge forward. Then he came out from the circle of trees.
The miniature blonde boy skidded to a horrified stop as he left the forest. Standing in front of him was a monstrous creature. The dragon was tall, large, and formed of hardened green scales that stole the warmth of the earth and sharp black claws and horns that made blood run chilled. It was a tangible nightmare that towered over the terrified Sting Dragneel.
Its yellow, reptile eyes, shaped like a crocodile's, honed in on the creature that had made so much noise, running through the foliage.
Sting was frozen as if the stare had turned him to stone, yet small rivers of tears sprouted from his hazed blue eyes.
The dragon was quick on its feet, despite its size. It struck out after turning to Sting. One massive paw with knife-edge talons came thundering down to crush the young dragon slayer in instant death.
"JUDE!" the light that he had so earnestly sought suddenly reappeared from behind the dragon that had been barring it; the silver brightness was by his side at once.
The force of two objects trying to occupy the same place at the same time forced Sting and the light backwards. Not into the forest, but close to the shelter of its trees. They were out of the way enough to not be flattened by the enormous limb headed their way, but the two of them were not out of harm's way.
Lucy Dragneel had thrown herself at her son, back to him, and facing the beast.
The dragon's claw came down and sliced through creatures more fragile than it.
Lucy's lips shot open in the "O" of a silent scream. Young Sting's eyes widened when he felt the blood begin to drip above his right eye.
"DRAGON FORCE! HIDDEN FIRE FORM: CRIMSON LOTUS PHOENIX BLADE!"
The dragon let out a roar that threatened to shatter the sensitive eardrums of any dragon slayer, as he was engulfed in a golden, fiery inferno, the trademark of the Salamander. Natsu's blow from behind brought the green monster down to finish it off. Had the little boy not been so immersed in thoughts of panic, he may have experienced proud amazement at the feat, granted, it was Natsu's most powerful attack, but if that move could take out a dragon single handedly, this war would not be as devastating as it was. Sting's fear, and the blood in his eyes, blinded him from the multiple of wounds wet with crimson liquid that peppered the dragon's harsh hide, wounds slightly older than his father's killing blow.
But once the dragon was down, Sting could register more than just terror. He was able to move his legs forward instead of side to side in shivers, and he could shift his head down instead of up. He swiped the blood out of his eyes as his father came closer. Sting's hand left just as much blood as it picked up.
"LUCY!" The fire dragon slayer cried out in horrified anguish.
Sting looked down at his mother.
Her right arm was missing. No. Not missing. Sting saw it on the ground, sixteen feet away from the body it was meant to be attached to.
The miniature dragon slayer went into shock at the sight. His vision turned crimson; he would remember the world of one color forever, even as the world around him became black.
Lucy's recovery period was long, trying, and painful for more than just the Celestial mage. Wendy spent exhausting hours by her patient and friend's side for the first few days. As the blonde slept for the first week, Natsu was wracked with worry that his mate would not survive. For about a month and a half, Levy and Gajeel felt overwhelming guilt whenever they saw Lucy, Natsu, or Sting. Three months later and Sting had not left the corner of his mother's room because he blamed himself.
When Lucy awoke for the first time, Natsu was there to fret and fuss, tears of relief spilling over his cheeks. Her first thought was for Sting, who gently walked over to her side, and she tried to reach out and wrap her child in her arms, to feel him safe against her heart. That was the moment she realized her right arm had been lost and Lucy began to cry. Sting whimpered with watery blue eyes at the scene.
"My guild mark," Lucy whispered into the top of her left hand. Her son cried harder. Natsu buckled.
Once she was up and walking around, Lucy tried to go about things as normally as possible. Even though she smiled less, she still smiled, attempting to keep them just as bright as they had always been. She interacted with her friends the same way; she refused to blame either Levy or Gajeel when the blunette tearfully told Lucy about being unable to prevent Sting from getting out. She wanted everyone, herself included, to feel as if this was not going to break things.
Natsu was at her side for every second. She did not want him feeling guilty about being unable to protect her, but she let him become over protective and restrictive.
Sting silently followed them everywhere. Sometimes Lucy could sense him staring at the place where her arm used to be. She knew that acting the same with him was the most important factor in all of this; she had to draw him out of the self-loathing she could see in his eyes.
Others tried to be as unaltered as the female blonde was, including in the ways they dealt with Sting.
Unexpectedly, Gray was the person to approach the issue with the blue-eyed dragon slayer first.
"Hey little flame brain," the ice mage smiled as he got down on Sting's level. "Heard you got a pretty nasty scar from that dragon you fought." Sting was not stupid. He knew he had nothing to do with taking that dragon down. And the playful nickname was not helping. "I bet it doesn't make you as handsome as mine does."
It seemed as if Gray's knack for getting on the last nerve of a certain dragon slayer was not lost on the dragon slayer's progeny. He saw the scowl forming on Sting's face; though it was an unhappy face, Gray was satisfied with any expression of emotion. He could probably get the emotions to grow.
"Yep, you and your father's scars are nothing like the chick-magnet that mine is. Squinty eyes wishes."
"Don't call my dad names, droopy-eyed bastard!"
"Why, Son of Smoke for Brains?"
"I said, 'don't call my dad names'! Glacier-face!"
And not even moving a fraction of an inch out of the way, the ice mage let Sting's smaller fist come into contact with flesh. The punch hardly made a dent in Gray's stomach, but even an inconsequential amount of pain was worth getting the boy riled up enough to physically express powerful feelings. He grunted and doubled over in fake agony to humor the kid. When Gray looked up from his crouch, he was smiling lopsidedly.
"At least your punches are stronger than his were at your age," admitted the shirtless mage. Then he gently wiped his thumb over the healed slash in the blonde's right eyebrow and continued on to ruffle platinum locks. "Look, we've all got scars, kid: you, me, even your dad. But the best part is that we're still alive to appreciate them. That's all that really matters right now to your mom, Jude, is that the both of you are alive. Scars and all." Gray glanced into teary blue eyes, and even if he would get hassled about it later by his long-time rival, the ice mage pulled the boy into a hug.
Natsu walked up on them moments later.
Sting walked into his mother's room with his hands behind his back. He saw her sitting at her desk, a mostly blank piece of paper in front of her, while she briefly twirled a pen in her left hand. The words on the page were slightly slanted and uneven; it was the effect of writing with her non-dominant hand. The little dragon slayer frowned when he realized why, but then he had to stop when he understood that, having lost her right hand, she still had the courage and will to continue writing, even though it had to be difficult for her.
"Mom?" he spoke.
She looked up. When she saw who it was at her door, the brown-eyed woman set down her pen. She smiled at her only son to beckon him into the room and to her side.
He hesitantly stood just at the edge of her desk. But when her smile grew, Sting took seconds to clamber up onto her lap. Lucy held him close with the one arm she still had left; she placed her chin atop his platinum blonde head.
"How are you, Mama?" whispered Sting into her chest.
"Oh Jude, I should be asking you that. I'm your mother."
"But I just want to make sure that you're okay."
Lucy set a gentler smile on her face. "My fair-haired dragon, look at me." She only continued speaking when he did. "I promise you, that I am okay. With you around, I am always okay. Oh Jude, I know you feel guilty for what happened, but please don't. That dragon attacked on his own; it was no one's fault." The older woman took a moment to sigh forlornly.
"None of this is anyone's fault."
At her pause, young Sting burrowed closer into her. He knew not to interrupt or protest because she always tried to make everything all right, always.
"Please do not worry about me, or the arm that I lost. Do not fall into a place of guilt because I no longer carry a permanent marking of our guild. You, my precious dragon slayer, are more important than anything I have ever owned. If I ever want anything to be permanent upon this world, it is you Jude. I love you."
He allowed her to hug him tighter just a bit more, and if one tear fell to her shirt, he fixedly chose to ignore it. The warmth spread throughout both of them; Lucy closed her eyes and smiled. But then the little boy started to squirm in her lap.
"But Mama," his blue eyes stared into her brown one, "if you could carry the guild mark on your right hand, would you still want to?"
Slightly troubled at where this came from and where it was going, his mother hesitantly answered, but completely honest, "Yes, Jude, I would. If only because it means that I will go on more adventures one day."
The boy finally managed to smile. Taking his arms out from the long sleeves he had buried his hands in, Sting brought up his right hand to his mother's startled face. Lucy gasped at what she saw there.
Flat on the top of the light dragon slayer's right hand was a bright pink symbol; it was the unforgettable and profound mark of the Fairy Tail guild. Do fairies have tails?
"In the future, let's all go on adventures together, Mama. Promise?"
Lucy cried into her beautiful son's hair. "I promise," she whispered through her tears.
Sting Eucliffe, famed White Dragon Slayer and one of the top five members of the Sabertooth guild, stopped listening to the crowd screaming long enough to take a good, hard look at the blonde mage at the center of the arena. They were screaming because she belonged to the lesser guild, Fairy Tail. And because the red-haired mage she was fighting against was threatening to burn the vivid pink mark on her entangled hand. He never ceased watching her, even when the top of his right hand started to burn and itch.
Finis.
A/n: Did you enjoy? Or maybe you have something else to say? Perhaps you could leave me your thoughts in the form of a review. Oh, I should mention, that the reason everyone calls him "Jude" in the past of the future is because there is a headcanon in the Twin Paradox Slayers Theory that states that Sting's real name is Jude; he only forgets it when he goes back to the past and instead takes on the "Sting Eucliffe" persona. But he is referred to as Sting in the text because that is who we, the audience, know him as. (Rogue has a "real" name too in this theory, Ryos.)