Ripples

He glided through the still water, his shadow slicing through the silvery rippling patterns thrown onto the bottom of the pool by the hazy sunlight filtering through the skylight. His feet scraped against the bottom of the pool, a mass of bubbles erupting around him in an odd harmonization.

It was the early hours of the morning but Jellal was already up and about, getting his daily dose of morning exercise. It was a habit he had acquired when he had been part of the force back in the day. The fact that he still had constant nightmares, where he would bolt awake in a sweat several times during the night, was also another factor, but not one that he would openly admit.

He swept back his hair as he surfaced, one hand moving down to wipe away the water droplets on his face. Grunting, he placed both hands on the side of the pool and hoisted himself out of the water, twisting around so that he was sitting on the edge with his legs dangling in the water.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Jellal glanced at his watch without turning around to face the speaker. "What brings you here so early, Lily?"

"I've got a favor to ask of you. A friend of mine needs some help since her cardiovascular physiotherapist has fallen ill and can't work with her."

He ruffled his hair, the water droplets cool against his skin. He walked over to the deck chairs and grabbed a towel, proceeding to dry himself. "Sure, that's not a problem. Let me check my schedule."

"Sorry," Lily said sheepishly. "I checked it for you and she's coming in in an hour."

"What?" Jellal's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Lily, you know I need time to read her file and maybe devise a treatment course!"

"Here you go." The man held out the file as he rubbed the back of his head with a small chuckle. "It's just a consult so it'll be quick."

Jellal took the file with a rueful shake of his head, a grin at the corner of his lips. "You owe me big time, Lily. Big time."

Lily waved casually as he padded away and Jellal flipped open the file.

Name: Erza Knightwalker

Department, Component or Branch: US Army

Rank: Captain

Role: Squad designated marksman

A captain acting as the squad's DM. That was certainly an interesting arrangement, but a glowing testament to her leadership and sniping skills on the other hand.

He flipped the page and started scanning through her medical history.

"Sound off."

The faint buzzing of static hummed in her right ear.

"Sting in position."

"Rogue in position."

"Hughes in position."

"Sugarboy in position."

She adjusted the sniper so that it rested against her cheek. The air was still and there was no wind; perfect conditions for sniping. She did a quick calculation of the trajectory of the bullet.

"You know the objective. Sugarboy will disarm the bomb. Rogue, Sting, you'll cover his entry, and Hughes, take the rear. I'll provide you with sniper cover. Get in and out quickly."

"Copy that, Captain."

Erza peered out from the ledge where she was perched. The four men had started to move in. Good. Everything was going according to plan.

She tilted her head as she surveyed the abandoned factory through the lens of her scope. She didn't expect to see any people considering the place was deserted but it seemed too quiet, eerie.

Something moved in the distance and she cocked her rifle in that direction instinctively. A flash of metal under the sunlight and she pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated the man's skull and she bolted her gun, ejecting the empty casing.

"We have company, keep your eyes open," she barked out the command.

Her men responded with a few whispered confirmations and she continued her surveillance when suddenly a burst of pain shot through her chest and the impact propelled her backwards. She let out a cry of pain and crashed onto the floor, her weapon clattering onto the ground.

Erza rolled over onto her side, wincing as she felt the bullet tear apart the tissues in her chest, the blood pouring from the bullet hole. Looking up through a haze of pain, tears blurring her vision, her eyes widened as a flashing black box strapped to the side of a metal construction bar caught her eye.

They had known of their arrival and had moved the bomb.

Fuck.

"Get out! The bomb is here, they've moved it!"

The timer counted down and Erza knew that there wasn't enough time for her to defuse the bomb. Cursing loudly, she leapt over the ledge and down onto the roof of an adjacent building. She sprinted across the rooftops but she couldn't outrun the explosion and she was sent flying through the air, the flames licking at her back as the rubble and debris rained down on her. She smashed onto the hard concrete, the flying shrapnel cutting and biting into her skin. The blood streaming from the cut on her head blinded her and she allowed the welcoming darkness to consume her.

He was late but in his defense, Lily had sprung this upon him and he had really needed a shower. The door swung open easily and he glanced down at his file, leafing through the pages once more.

"Sorry about the delay, Captain…" he faltered as he saw his patient.

She was not what he had expected. She was beautiful, very young. She looked nothing like a Captain of the army but being ex-military, he knew better than to judge a soldier based on his or her appearance. Rank was an indicator of one's abilities but what really mattered was one's performance on the field.

She was displeased with his tardiness, he could see it in her eyes, and he swallowed.

"I'm Jellal. I'll be your cardiovascular physiotherapist for the next few weeks. Um, it looks like your wound has healed up nicely. The bullet just missed your heart but I'd like to keep an eye on it just to ensure that the torn tissues around it won't affect your cardiovascular system."

He pulled out a few loose sheets of paper, glancing over them. "Your EKG and echo tests are normal so today I'm just going to give your heart a stress test. Then I'll devise a cardiac rehab program for you and we can start tomorrow."

Jellal led her over to a treadmill. "Please."

Erza complied wordlessly. He set the speed and angle of the treadmill and jotted down some notes as she jogged. She had no problems completing the course and she sat down opposite to him as he measured her pulse.

Her skin was soft to the touch, he mused to himself, the rhythmic pulsing throbbing gently under his fingers. He withdrew his hand with a polite smile.

"Your heart seems completely healthy. Does your chest hurt when you move?"

"There is still some residual pain around the bullet wound," she replied.

"Alright then. We'll work on that tomorrow." He scribbled down some notes.

"Are you the one they call Mystogan?"

His hand froze mid-sentence. "Excuse me?"

"I've heard the rumors about you. You're something like a legend among the corps." Her expression was stoic but the confused edge in her tone betrayed her curiosity. "Why did you leave your branch 3 years ago? That was when the Petra War started and when we needed soldiers the most."

Jellal shrugged. "I got..." he paused, struggling to choose the correct word, "tired…of that life."

Her burning eyes narrowed slightly as their eyes met in a clash of different shades of brown. She was angry that he had supposedly skipped out on his duty, one that he was highly proficient at. It was understandable. The Petra War had been devastating for both countries and a sudden surge of anger and patriotism had swept through the country, resulting in many men and women enlisting. He had not been one of those.

"And you didn't feel guilty that so many inexperienced people joined and died for this country when you could have saved so many lives?" She shot back.

Jellal's fingers tightened around the pen, the only sign of discomfort that he allowed himself to show. It was subtle but her keen eyes did not miss this small detail.

"It wasn't my fight," he said slowly.

"When you join the armed forces, every fight is your fight. Your country's cause is your cause. You shouldn't pick and choose," Erza replied.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of her words. "It's complicated."

"You were one of the best."

"Is it fair to force me to put my life on the line for something I hold no feelings for anymore?"

"Tiring of that life seems like a pretty weak excuse when it comes down to a national emergency bordering on a world war."

It was the accusing tone that set him off.

There was a hole in his heart, a void within him. It was a wound that had never healed. He had never told anyone about the particular incident, but the way she kept prodding at it caused something within him to snap.

"I spent a few years with the Navy SEALs but I retired after 6 years when some shrapnel hit my eye." His fingers traced the long scar slicing down across his right eye. "20/20 vision ruined." He grinned to himself at the memory. "Then I joined the FBI Hostage Rescue Team. " The grin slid off his face like butter on a hot knife.

His eyes were downcast as he reminisced about the past. The memories were clear as day, almost as if it had all only happened yesterday. He could hear her screams echoing in his head, could feel the gun in his shaking hands, the smell of gunpowder wafting in the air as he emptied his round in short explosive bursts of sparks; the hollow, golden shell casings raining down onto the ground in a smatter of tinkering chimes.

"I was sent to deal with a hostage situation 4 years ago as part of a ten man squad. I was squad leader."

A soft tingling was spreading from his fingertips as the numbness started to settle in. His grip tightened around the paper file in an effort to steady himself.

"Are you sure it's Times Tower?" He croaked out.

"Yes sir."

His heart dropped to the pits of his stomach.

"60 hostages, approximately 20 terrorists." His throat was dry. "Took down 19 of them. The last one had a gun to her head."

"Drop the weapon," he shouted at the man.

He was trembling so badly, knees weak, a sudden chill spreading across his chest. Her eyes were wide, body rigid with fear. This was the last terrorist and Jellal could end it now. One shot between the eyes and it could be all over.

But it was her, and it could have been the fact that the terrorist pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple. It could have been the fact that he had panicked at the sight of her terror, that he had rushed himself and failed to aim, that he had miscalculated in the heat of the moment. But it didn't matter either way because he had missed, whereas the other man didn't.

He could feel the weight of her gaze on him but he looked away pointedly, fingers brushing at the smooth material between his fingertips. "I held, and still hold, the highest headshot ratio and accuracy record of 96%. Unfortunately, that day, I missed."

The file slipped through his fingers, falling to the floor, the papers spilling out. Jellal didn't seem to notice. He was in a trance-like state, staring at his palms in morbid fascination.

"They call me Mystogan, a word play on 'Mist Gun', because the enemy never knows where I'll shoot from. I'm like the surrounding mist. I can shoot from any angle and I never miss."

He could see the blood on his hands, feel the viscous liquid dripping down his hands as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He rubbed his right palm with his other hand, watching as the blood, her blood, was smeared across his skin, mixing in with the dust and grime.

"They call me a legend because that was the only casualty suffered in all the missions I have ever led." He continued in a monotone voice. "But they know nothing. I was the reason she died," his eyes met Erza's blankly, "and I'm not just talking about me missing."

Erza did not speak. On the outside, Jellal seemed like any average guy, but on the inside, there were shadowy demons, ones which had been suppressed for too long and were now running rampant. They were soldiers; they had seen unspeakable horrors on the battlefield but each and every one of them had their own special way of coping with the aftermath of nightmares. There was a twisted darkness within all of them and his had chosen to resurface now, with her serving as the catalyst.

"I was chosen to lead the team, but I should have turned it down because the location was where my girlfriend worked." His jaw locked and she looked at him in horror as the pieces fell into place. "But I couldn't because I needed to do it personally. I couldn't entrust her life to anyone else."

"That was my mistake." Jellal knelt down to gather the scattered sheets. "I missed, and he shot her point blank in front of me. She didn't die instantaneously but it was obvious she wasn't going to make it. I had to put her out of her misery myself. I quit the force after that and came here." His voice shook. "Do I regret not returning for the Petra War? Not at all. Because I'm here, helping veterans and soldiers in another way."

Erza stared at him in stunned silence.

"Everybody here has their own story, Captain." He looked straight into her eyes as he stood up. "Now you know mine. See you tomorrow, same time, same place."

A/N: This was supposed to be a one shot but it turns out that the piece would be too long since I still have to explore how Erza helps Jellal get over Ultear and for him to fall in love with her. So this is my first multi-chaptered story here. Hope you guys like it.