This is a gift for missbirdeyhatss, who has been very nice about sending me things from cons and other similar assorted stuff... So yeah, I hope you enjoy!

Her mother had twenty four hours to prove that she wasn't abusive and that she deserved custody. How her deranged mom planned to pull off such a thing Erza didn't know; she had been beaten on a daily basis since she was five years old. Her deadbeat father had gotten killed in a bar fight, and with even less money than before her semi-respectable mother turned to drinking away her self-induced sorrows.

But as long as she lied and told the police that her guardian was a loving and caring maternal figure there would be nothing to dispute her testimony; her mother would strip the house clean of any potential evidence, and Erza Scarlet, now in her freshman year of high school, had no friends. There wasn't a single soul who knew about her less than acceptable home life, and there was probably no one who ever would. Day after day the scarlet haired teen trekked the mile to her campus after her morning "punishment", walking through the double doors like she was fighting off death itself.

It was Thursday, the day that had most of her easy classes. Sighing she slipped slightly on the polished tile floor as she shuffled down the side hall towards her dingy light blue locker. On the way to the campus it had rained briefly, leaving her clothing, backpack and shoes damp. And her luck only got better upon arriving at her little home-away-from-home. The redhead had really expressed herself when decorating with carefully trimmed pictures of her favorite clothes line, Heart Kruez, taped on the door, along with some other outfits and the occasional sophisticated sword. Among the official pictures were sketches of various ideas she had to either improve upon an existing outfit, or a completely new creation that was all her own.

Someone had dumped Gatorade through the vents on the upper half, resulting in her worn rain jacket smelling like artificial grapes, and the destruction of her chemistry textbook; purple stains were blooming on the cover and stark white inner pages. Luckily it didn't cost that much to replace… If it had been her geometry textbook-

Erza's chocolate brown eyes watered, but she refused to cry. 'I'm stronger than this. Mom does worse than this at home. It just smarts a bit because I thought this place was safe.' Breathing in and out in a rhythmic pattern she shook out the rain coat and placed all of the things from her bag onto the wobbly shelves, carefully organizing by class and block. (Erza was meticulous about using a pen color that matched that class' spiral on the paper bag textbook cover.) Power over her own possessions always calmed her down, probably because she was dominated daily by her own mother.

After selecting the things she would need for her homeroom the scarlet haired girl quietly shut her locker, remembering to use her foot to shove the bottom. One of the locking mechanisms didn't work that well, so she had to kick it in order to make the door shut all the way. (Her lock was super sticky too, but that didn't bother her very much.)

The halls were surprisingly clear; it surprised her until she remembered that a lot of the upperclassmen had either field trips, or were filling out their job shadow requirements that day. Almost daring to hope that her day could improve Erza slid into her seat near the door. At the beginning of the year she had purposely chose that spot because it paid to be able to get out of the classroom quickly.

Scooting upward out of her slouch she hissed when her crimson tresses got caught in one of the bolts that held the back of her chair together. The perks of long hair. If you looked on the backs of any of the chairs there would be at least one wad of frizzy hair there. Turning around as far as she could without pulling Erza evaluated her options. Of course this had happened to her before, but each time it was a struggle. There were three possible outcomes, none of them desirable. She could yank at it until it came out and left a chunk of matted hair, cut off a ragged hunk of hair, or ask someone to help her detangle it.

Resigning herself to having to lop off about two inches of her hair to even it out she pulled out a pair of green handled scissors. And of course she would have to bear the shame of walking around with such an uneven and pathetic hairstyle until she got the chance to complete the trim. The rain, the Gatorade, her hair, her mother… It was all snowballing into a bigger problem that she wasn't sure she could handle anymore.

"Excuse me," a slightly accented male voice interjected in a soft tone. "Do you need help?"

Surprised Erza jumped forward for a split second before remembering that her scalp would suffer if she tried to pull away from the chair. Who was the boy talking to her? She didn't recognize the voice, and she had been sure that she knew everyone in homeroom. Curious but wary she rotated until she could properly see the person who had spoken.

Right away she knew that it was a transfer student, first because she had never seen him before in her life, second, because he didn't have the school's insignia embroidered on any of his clothing. His hair was a bright blue, but not the point of being obnoxious. Almost idly she wondered if it was natural. Realizing she was being incredibly rude Erza's face heated up, knowing that he had also seen her examining him thoroughly.

"Y-Yes, if you would please…" Her quavering voice trailed off as she noticed the red tattoo over his right eye. It was an interesting formation that she had never seen before, and drew her mind into an entirely new dimension of thought.

"I'm Jellal Fernandez; just moved to Magnolia, how about you?" He was polite to a fault as his fingers began to pull apart the knotted clumps stuck to the back of Erza's chair.

"Erza. Erza Scarlet. It's very nice to meet you." She smiled brightly. No one had ever shown her such kindness before, and the gentleness he was displaying with his hands was strangely alluring.

"Really?" He grinned back at her briefly. "Scarlet. Just like your hair! I like it…"

Blushing deeply the redhead looked down and allowed her hair to hide her face.

"Thanks," her belated reply hung in the air. Before either of them could make another move her hair was free and the final bell was ringing, and the teacher, Ms. Vermilion came and grabbed his left arm.

"Come on, introduce yourself to everyone!" The blonde said cheerfully as she half dragged, half led Jellal to the front of the classroom. Glancing at him encouragingly Erza pulled out her planner, a slim little yellow booklet with both full month pages, and day-by-day slots. Today her workload was very light thus far, and she doubted there would be much more. Scanning the little side-notes for Thursday she realized that the child welfare person was visiting today to ask her questions about her home life. Groaning her head dropped onto the desk with a bang. For those brief seconds with the new boy, Jellal, she had completely forgotten about how terrible the rest of her life was. She had dared to hope, and now she was hurting for it.

Noticing how all eyes were focused on her, 'including his,' she noted, Erza picked herself up with a grace that she didn't know she had and pretended that nothing had happened. She would just have to lie to the welfare worker. If she didn't her mother would beat on her afterwards until she was on the brink of death. Or maybe she would actually kill her this time. Once in second grade she was in critical condition, so her mother called an ambulance and said that she was mauled by a stray dog that 'definitely had rabies. Did I mention that it looked like it had rabies? The goopy foam was dripping all over the place!' Depressed she hoped that the worker wouldn't meddle too much or actually look at her body. Over years of constant abuse her slim form had accumulated burns marks, bruises that spanned her entire ribcage, and a variety of different cuts and slashes.

"Hello my name is Jellal Fernandez and I will be in this homeroom for the remainder of the year. I hope we can be good friends." His dark eyes bore into her own as he spoke, as if his words were meant for her alone. Cheeks beginning to burn she looked down and began to draw aimless spirals in her planner while Ms. Vermilion seated the boy in a seat diagonally to her right.

Throughout the period, (which was career planning that day) she tried to stop sneaking glances, but failed miserably. Almost every single time her gaze wandered in his direction Jellal would look up and catch her staring at him. It embarrassed her to no end, but for some reason her eyes didn't listen to her brain, and kept straying from her notes.

When class was over she was almost glad, but at the same time sad. Erza stilled herself for a second to collect any lost thoughts and then packed up her things. After smiling and saying a quick farewell to Jellal she exited the class and almost ran down the narrow hall towards her locker to get the things for her next class. Someone else would show him the way to his next class. Ms. Vermilion would tell someone to if nothing more. Right now she was just really confused, and didn't know what she wanted.

Throughout the rest of the day Erza tried to pull herself together, but the appearance of Jellal and the fact that her mother and a welfare person were waiting for her at home were disconcerting, and never failed to send her reeling out of orbit. When it was finally time for her to go to her last class, a shortened version of study hall, she wasn't sure how much longer she would hold out. The stress and fear stemming from her home life was wrapping around her like chains, forcing her to drag her pain everywhere she went.

Soundlessly moving into the corner of the room near the window Erza pulled out the only assignment she had received that day and began to halfheartedly work on it. She hated chemistry so much. Without the book to supplement the notes she had taken in class she was having a hard time with it, but decided that it would be better to get it over with. She was so concentrated off in her own little world that it took poor Jellal three repetitions of her name and a poke on the shoulder to get her attention.

"What? Oh sorry…" 'It's him!'

"Do you need some help with that?" He asked awkwardly, unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Yes, yes, please!" Sighing in relief she patted the chair next to her in invitation and flipped the paper over so that all of the words were facing him. 'See Erza? Nothing to be apprehensive about! Friends do things like this all the time, yeah, that's right…'

As Jellal explained how things worked Erza both listened and fought an internal battle with herself. Could she put herself out and be friends with someone? It was something she had never had a chance at, something she had always yearned for, but faced with the situation head on the redhead was unsure. But somehow the amount of caring in his eyes and the calm posture with which he held himself drew her closer, and she found herself wanting to tell him everything.

After recording all of the new things he had said, figuring out the answers and shoving all of her belongings haphazardly into her bag she turned to him with a new look in her eyes. He noticed, and adjusted himself accordingly.

"We're friends right?" Erza questioned softly, afraid of what Jellal's response would be.

"Of course," he replied back, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'd like to tell you some things. Things about myself that I've never told anyone before." She glanced around briefly to ensure that the rest of the class was occupied elsewhere before letting her story flood out.

"My mother beats me every day. I have so many scars that it some places it looks like there isn't even skin anymore. Its ugly, and whenever I go home she just does it again. I mean… She's a drunk, so I don't blame her for anything, but at the same time my body is a mess. I can't wear any nice clothes because for one thing, I don't have any, and if I did everyone would be able to see the nasty welts that I have." Her eyes were watering already, but she told herself that she couldn't cry in the middle of the classroom.

"Everyone bullies me because I'm not cool and so closed off. I don't have any money, and today my chem book got coated in some grape drink! I'll never be able to pay for it, and my mother will punish me for it when I get home. You know today the childcare person is coming. If I don't lie to them I'm going to get burned later. It's happened before. I almost told the truth, and now I have a huge mark covering a chunk of my back where some melted wax dripped…"

"You know what? I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I'm so sorry, none of this has anything to do with you," Erza whispered almost inaudibly. Grabbing her bag she started to stand up when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Wait. Erza," her name rolled off his tongue easily, as if he had been saying it for years. "Don't let this keep happening. Tell the welfare person. You have the power to stop this! This is your chance; don't let it pass you by." The emotion in his voice was almost tangible, yet she almost wavered and pulled away. "I know you're scared, but you can end this." Grabbing her hand he continued, "Even if no one else does, I believe in you."

Her world shattered.

All her life Erza Scarlet had been waiting to hear those words, waiting for a reason to continue onward, waiting for a direction in life. And here it was in the form of the compassionate transfer student. Tears dripping onto the smooth desktop her hand clutched his like a lifeline.

"You're sure?" Fear was present in her voice, but for the first time in years there was also something else; hope.

"Of course." His smile was an incarnate of the sun, shining through the dark gray clouds that signified a rainy day. "If you need a place to stay you can always come live with me in the dorm. It really is supposed to be two to a room, but since I came so late in the year… You could say there's a vacancy." Teasing clear in his tone Jellal released her hand and stood. "Room C-42. Hope to see you."

As he walked out of the classroom she asked the question that had been in the back of her mind all day.

"Is that your natural hair color?"

"Of course," he tossed back over his shoulder. "Don't you often get the same question?"