A/N: This just wouldn't get out of my head, so I decided to write it down. Some hurt/comfort for ya.

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: NaLu

Rating: T - adult themes

Summary: Still recovering from a bad relationship, Lucy struggles with returning a white scaled scarf to its owner—the pink-haired man always running around her apartment complex. A man who seems like he might be just what she needs to heal. Modern AU. NaLu. TwoShot.

melt down
/melt-ˌdau̇n/

verb

to heat a metal until it becomes liquid,
especially in order to make something new from it

She saw him almost every day, around the apartment complex. He'd appear a few doors down and would often be running around the building, doing laps.

She'd catch glances of him from the window of her reading and writing alcove. The scuff of his shoes against the gravel caught her attention—not always voluntary, but it didn't really matter to her.

He intrigued her.

It was his hair at first.

The flash of pink had caught her attention the first time she'd noticed him run by, and though she found it odd, her thoughts quickly returned to her book since she'd probably never see him again.

Until again, he ran by the window, a sheen of sweat forming as he continued to run for over half an hour.

And it wasn't just the one day. He'd run, every day at the same time for the past few months, and she hadn't necessarily been…watching him per say.

But she'd noticed things.

Sometimes he would forego a shirt, but his iPod was always wrapped around his bicep, and a scaled scarf was always tied around his hips securely. Those were always a constant and she wondered about the scarf sometimes.

He was always alert.

He kept a keen eye on the kids' park nearby, and a few times he'd run over to help a kid who had fallen down, or scold a child for bullying. He'd notice and worry if the mailman was late doing his rounds, and Lucy would watch as he paused his run to talk to him.

She tried to stop. She did her best to change her reading and writing times, to not look up whenever she knew he'd be there, but she was curious about him.

She wondered what he was really like.

A dangerous thought.

Shaking the vivid images from her brain, the blonde slung her purse over her shoulder before exiting her condo and locking it. She threaded her keys through her knuckles and slid her closed fist into her sweater pocket before making her way to her car.

She pulled her hood up.

She felt the fabric of her clothes pull back in response to the pink-haired runner nearly knocking into her, and she turned back briefly to get a glance. He stumbled, almost tripping over his feet as he slowed and looked in her direction.

"Sorry, 'bout tha—"

He cut himself off and looked down to the iPod on his bicep, brow furrowed. He slid his thumb across the screen and began talking.

Well…in that case it was most likely an iPhone…not an iPod.

Shaking her head, Lucy was moving back in the direction of her car when a flash of white caught her eye.

Scrunched up in a pile of fabric, was the scarf she'd always seen tied around his hips. Should she just leave it there?

No. She couldn't do that.

But she couldn't be late for her appointment either.

So she quickly stuffed the scarf in the confines of her purse before jumping in her car and taking off down the street.

…..

The scarf was beautiful.

It was soft beneath her fingers and thumbs, which seemed impossible since the pleated scales were just that. Scales.

How could scales be that soft? And how the hell could scales be woven together into a scarf?

"Lucy?"

She looked up at her shrink.

"What've you got there?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

At first glance, Erik could be terrifying with his bright purple hair, the vertical scar warping the skin of his right brow, eyelids and upper cheek, and his sharper than average canines. But much to Lucy's surprise, she didn't mind him.

Which he'd been hesitant about as well.

"You know you can request a female psychiatrist, right? I won't be offended if—"

Lucy had shaken her head.

"I don't care. I trust you. I'm not transferring now."

She'd been surprised herself that she felt comfortable talking to him about what had happened, though she guessed it was because he was male she wanted him. She wanted his opinion on things, his male perspective, and more often than not he would assure her that it wasn't normal.

What he—her ex—had been doing to her and how he'd been making her feel, wasn't normal. It wasn't healthy, and it was okay for her to be affected as she was by it.

It was just the memories. The flashes. She couldn't get rid of them. Of the first time she didn't want. Of the guilt she felt at not wanting it. Of forcing herself to be okay and forcing herself to want it because she believed no-one else could ever love her.

Because who in their right mind could?

He'd said so enough times to make her believe that, and she hadn't noticed that something was really wrong about her relationship with him until he'd physically forced her.

And those memories were more haunting than the first.

"It belongs to a guy who runs around my building," she muttered, folding it carefully. "It's usually around his hips but I guess it came loose for some reason. I found it but didn't have time to return it if I was going to be here on time."

Erik looked at her with curious eyes, "Who is he?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. He just kinda showed up one day, running around my apartment building. It's been that way for a few months. My guess is he lives in the complex somewhere."

Erik nodded, "Have you spoken to him?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Will you give him his scarf back?"

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his implication, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, "Because you actively avoid confrontation with others. Especially those of the opposite sex nowadays."

Lucy glared, "I talk to you."

"I don't really count."

The blonde frowned.

"Lucy," he sighed, "you're making steady progress. You aren't as affected. Your PTSD is under control and you're no longer having severe anxiety attacks." Erik leaned back in his chair, violet locks falling over his cheek. "But you're holing yourself up and that's only going to prolong your depression and apathy."

Lucy looked away, "I'm not holing myself up. I'm reading and writing."

"You're distancing yourself," he said firmly, "it has to stop. You can't isolate yourself forever if you're going to try and feel normal again."

"There's no such this as normal, Scarface," she spat softly, under her breath.

"Ey, I heard that."

"Bullshit," she grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Erik just laughed.

"Girlie, I hear everything."

She didn't doubt it.

…

The scarf weighed a ton.

Okay. Maybe it didn't actually weigh a ton. But each day it sat in her bag, it seemed to get heavier. She wanted to return it, she really did.

But he'd stopped running, and she had no idea where he lived or what his name was.

You'd think finding a guy with pink hair would be easy, but apparently everyone was as baffled as she was. The kids at the playground loved him, but had no idea where he went after they left the park while he was still running. The mailman didn't know either, though he'd heard him mention something about how there was a guy he worked with who loved freezing metal swords and pressing it to his skin to freak him out.

So she wracked her brain for everything she'd noticed in the past few months when he'd been running.

He was fit. That was for sure. Not just his legs and arms from running, but his shoulders and back. They'd tense on their own without him doing any other sort of exercise, which she could only assume would be from his job.

So physical labor.

From what the mailman said, he worked around metal. Unfortunately that didn't narrow things down so much. Metal could be any sort of machinery, or a manufacturing plant, or a deep sea welder for all she knew.

This wasn't getting her anywhere.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Lucy decided to take a shot in the dark.

There was no way this was going to work.

A few miles from her apartment on the outskirts of town, was a blacksmith's shop set up in a barn of sorts. They made everything from train track pegs to movie weapons and replicas. Lucy had never been there before, but with what the mailman had told her…

It was her best bet.

There were a few cars parked at the side of the building as she pulled up, cradling her bag to her chest. There was a strange symbol hanging above the open double doors and a large sign that said Fairy Tail. The letters were large and haphazardly nailed on—a few seemed to be a little loose and bent.

Lucy got out of her card, tightening her hold on the bag.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself.

With one foot in front of the other, the blonde made her way toward the entrance past the other cars parked around the barn. The loud clang of metal against metal made her flinch but was soon drowned out by various fits of shouting.

"I swear to god you pyro, if you fuck this up again—"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it, Metalhead. Last time wasn't my fault."

"You think Titania is gunna give a shit who's fault it is? This armor was supposed to be done a week ago!"

"Well I'm fucking sorry I lost the last damn thing Igneel gave me and had to go and look for it. Want me to burn your gloves so we'll be even?"

A loud crash echoed, silencing everything.

Lucy peered around the corner.

A man with long black tufty hair loomed over who Lucy assumed was the second guy in the conversation. He was shirtless, covered in scars and various piercings and currently clutching the front of the other guy's tank. The other guy was wearing a welding mask, so she couldn't see much other than the bright red tattoo on his shoulder. The same symbol that was hanging from the doorway.

"Say that again you piece of—"

"Gajeel."

The man with the piercings froze, slowly turning to the source of the voice. Another shirtless guy walked up.

What was with these guys and clothes? You'd think working around metal they'd be putting clothes on to protect themselves.

"Levy's working on an engraving, she needs you."

With one last glare at the welder, Gajeel loosened his hold on him, letting him fall back into his seat.

Lucy watched as he muttered to himself, rounding a nearby corner until he was out of sight. The blonde let out a relieved sigh at his absence. She had no idea what she was getting into. Maybe home would be a better idea.

"I didn't need your help, Ice Frea—"

CLANG!

"OW! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, GRAY?!"

Gray just smirked, tossing a chunk of ice to the ground. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and Lucy took in the mark that was on the right side of his chest.

"Picking a fight with Gajeel about the gloves obviously. You know how he gets about them."

The welder brought his hands to the chin of his mask, nearly ripping it off his face in frustration, "Yeah. Which is how he'd know how I felt about my scarf."

Lucy's stomach flipped.

It was him.

She'd found him and could finally give back the damn scarf that now weighed two hundred pounds.

But her feet remained frozen.

She knew where he was…so she could send it to him. She didn't have to go in there and deal with six foot men with scary as all hell expressions and violent tendencies.

Turning to go, Lucy did her best to stay quiet but a loud creaking sounded above her.

Before she could even register what was happening, a pain shot through her skull just above her right eye before everything went black.

She hadn't even had time to scream.

…

"Who is she?"

"Where'd she come from? We weren't expecting anyone to drop by today."

"What's in the bag?"

"Maybe she's from Sabertooth, trying to steal our designs for that upcoming weapons pitch—"

"Does she look like she'd do that?"

"Who knows? I mean, it's often the ones you wouldn't expect that—"

A loud clang echoed and silenced the voices.

"This is your fault, Gajeel," a female voice sounded, extremely disapproving, "if you hadn't rushed fixing the letters, one wouldn't have come loose and knocked this poor girl in the head. You're lucky that Porlyusica was already here for Natsu."

Damn her head hurt.

Lucy pried her eyes open, squinting at the assaulting light as she tried to sit up. There was a lot of rustling as hands came down to help, but she flinched away from the contact.

Leaning forward, elbows braced on knees, the blonde let her head hang as she exhaled in a long gust. She tenderly prodded the bone just above her right eyebrow and hissed, fingertips running along the medical tape and bandage.

"What the hell happened?" she muttered, looking up.

A tall, beautiful red head stood before her, arms crossed in front of her chest and a worried expression on her face. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward, offering a hand.

"Sorry about the sign, are you okay to get up?"

Lucy scrutinized the fingers and palm that was extended before grasping it firmly. Her hands were surprisingly soft save the callouses on the tips as she stumbled to her feet and wavered.

Looking around, Lucy focused on the now low hanging sheet of metal that she recognized as having been the "L" in their sign.

Oh. So that's what happened.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Sit her back down."

An older woman with long, pale pink hair stepped in front of Lucy, guiding her back down to a chair. Her gaze was hard and the blonde could tell she wasn't happy to be here, and for some reason she found that comforting.

"I'm Porlyusica," she introduced herself, immediately getting into Lucy's personal space and prying open her eyelids with a flashlight, "and the less you move the quicker this is over."

There was an odd feeling of ease that overcame Lucy as this woman performed a familiar medical checkup. She answered the normal questions, easily gave the proper answers, and before she knew it the woman was gone.

"Just don't sleep until late tonight, and even then set alarms so you wake up every two hours. Can't be too careful."

Just before she disappeared out the double doors, Lucy yelled, "Thank you!"

The healer just grunted before leaving.

"I'm Erza," the redhead smiled before sitting down and picking up a piece of half-eaten cake. "I'm so sorry about this. Leave these boys alone for one minute and everything goes to hell."

"Hey!" the man she now recognized as the runner stood to protest but was quickly shot back down by Erza.

Literally.

Face flat on the floor, Lucy had to suppress a giggle as she watched him rub his head.

"Natsu, what have I said about being defensive?"

She couldn't make out his response, but apparently it was good enough for Erza because she leaned back in her chair, satisfied, before taking a bite of strawberry cake.

"So, why are you here?" the pink-haired man, Natsu, craned his neck to look up at her with dark eyes. Lucy blinked before looking around for her bag.

A gloved hand shoved it in her face and she looked up at Gajeel. He had a hard expression on her face, but beneath that she could sense guilt.

"Here," he grunted.

Lucy had to lean back in her chair to get a look at the raven-haired Metalhead, as Natsu had called him. He looked reluctant and no doubt he was stubborn.

"Thanks…" she said softly, fingers wrapping around the strap of her bag tightly. In an unfamiliar place even just a hold on her bag made her feel a bit better.

Lucy caught the death glare Erza sent him and the jerk of Gajeel's shoulders as he straightened up and reluctantly glanced down at her, "Sorry about the sign."

Erza smirked and nodded, returning to eating her cake.

Lucy shrugged, "Shit happens, right?"

The red of Gajeel's eyes brightened as an amused smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, I like this one. Shrimp'd get a kick outta her."

Lucy's brow furrowed as he walked away with a slight wave.

Shaking her head, the blonde dug into her purse, fingers closing around the scarf that sat there. It had been with her long enough she wasn't quite sure how to explain herself. It wasn't like she'd meant to keep it, she assumed she would've seen him the next day but it just didn't happen.

Swallowing, Lucy pulled out the scarf, careful to keep it folded and nearly shoved it in Natsu's face.

At the sudden presence of an object in his face, the pinket at first jerked back before looking to Lucy, brow furrowed. It was only after his gaze returned to the scarf that it dawned on him just what it was.

His eyes widened, fingers coming up to circle around the scaley fabric. Lucy lessened her own hold until she felt him take it from her, now staring down at his lap. Erza could only watch as for once the boisterous pyro she'd come to love like a little brother fell silent. She couldn't remember the last time that'd happened.

Calloused thumbs, smudged with oil and metal dust, feathered over each individual scale with care equal to that of touching a newly hatched Monarch's wing. Lucy could feel the relief and thoughtful elation rolling off the young man in waves, and it only made her wonder who Igneel was.

Before she could open her mouth to even think about asking, however, she found herself pulled to a firm surface.

Eyes wide, it took her a moment to realize that this man—who was essentially a stranger—was hugging her with all he had. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a warmth that ran deeper than the surface of having worked in a blacksmith shop for…however long he'd worked there. There was a layer of sweat on him that she could feel with where her upper bare chest was pressed against his, and the tangy scent of metal assaulted her nose.

He'd hugged her. Without asking. With no warning. He'd entered her personal space bubble that she'd so carefully constructed since her break-up and sessions with Erik. He'd crossed everything she'd built since the day that had started this whole change in her life…

And for some reason she couldn't see, her hands came up of their own accord to grip his shoulders and accept the physical contact.

He was so warm.

She felt his arms fall lower on her back before tightening, and she could only smile as his chest rumbled against her skin.

"Thank you."

With those words, Lucy couldn't control the grin that broke out over her face. Her muscles moved of their own accord and she felt her heart swell.

She hooked her chin over his shoulder, relaxing into the embrace and focusing on the man's breaths. Whatever it was with the scarf, it seemed to mean the world to him and she was glad she got to see him get it back. It was worth it.

Her head throbbed.

She pulled away, pressing her fingers to the dressed wound. She could swear there was some tugging at the edges that she could feel.

"Do I have stitches?" her face scrunched up at the thought. She'd been trying to grow her bangs out and didn't necessarily feel like having to cover it up with make-up every damn time she wanted to tie her hair back.

Natsu threw her a pained smile, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah…a few."

Lucy's stomach dropped.

His eyes widened in panic and he brought his hands up, waving them in front of his face frantically. "No, no, no! It's okay! You don't have to worry! Porlyusica is the best, she never leaves a scar!"

Lucy sighed in relief before biting her lip and looking away sheepishly. "I guess that's kind of vain of me…huh?"

Natsu shook his head before tilting it to one side, baring the skin of his neck to her. Lucy blinked at the warped flesh that was discoloured from the rest of the side of his throat. Cocking her head to one side, her heart ached at the thought of what could've done that to him. It was also pretty faded—though still a little pudgy—but that didn't stop her from knowing that it must've been deep.

"I got this when I was around fifteen," he told her, scratching at the scar, face contorted in a grimace. "Wasn't the greatest time I had here. Was awhile before I stopped hiding it."

Lucy blinked. He'd been working here since he was fifteen?

He smiled fondly, remembering something before looking back up to her.

"Gray," he jerked his thumb back to the man with the blue tattoo on his chest, "and I were fighting—"

"And like usual, the idiots weren't paying attention to what the hell they were doing."

Lucy looked back up to Erza. She'd forgotten about the redheaded beauty—who had most likely gotten up at some point since she now had a fresh piece of cake on her plate and a different fork.

"Yeah, we got too close to Gajeel when he was working on something."

Lucy's gaze snapped up to Gray as he wandered over, leaning against a nearby pillar, arms crossed. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he brought a hand up to take a drag before flicking the ash off. "Whatever it was he was working on exploded. Piece of shrapnel went flying, scared the shit out of all of us. We thought he was gunna bleed out."

"So of course," Erza rolled her eyes and shook her head, "what does the pyro tell us to do?"

Natsu flushed, bowing his head to the point Lucy thought he'd curl into a ball and roll away.

"Cauterize it," Gray sighed, taking another puff.

"Which we had to do," Erza said, taking another bite. "Better to burn and hurt a bit than to die of bloodloss."

Lucy stared at the man in front of her, heart aching with worry. She knew it was stupid since he was obviously alive and fine, but how much she cared surprised her.

Standing from her chair, Lucy looked to the setting sun. She needed to get home soon if she was going to end up eating at a decent time and these guys most likely had to close up shop soon.

"I…uh…I should probably go. It's getting late."

Once again, Erza offered Lucy a hand and the blonde took it, smiling this time instead of being cautious. There was just something about this place that made her feel at home, something she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Thanks for bringing the scarf back…uh…" the redhead blushed, looking away briefly.

It was then she realized she hadn't introduced herself at all.

"Lucy! I'm Lucy!" she offered, not wanting to see Erza embarrassed.

"Lucy," she repeated, smiling softly, "pleasure to meet you. Come by again, I'm sure Levy would love you, like Gajeel said."

The blonde's chest warmed and she spun at the sound of Gray's voice, "She totally would. And for me? Anyone who can get flamebrain to shut up for more than five seconds is welcome back anytime." He grinned wide, winking slightly.

Lucy laughed, making her way toward her car, "Thanks so much, I'm so sorry about this." She looked to the detached letter guiltily, not wanting to have caused any trouble.

"Don't be sorry, this was all Gajeel," Natsu smirked, following close to her. The back of his hand brushed against hers and Lucy hid a blush. After the hug her stomach flipped—it was a little weird for her to have been so close in such an…intimate moment and now be walking side by side alone again.

"Let me take you out to dinner to apologize for him."

Lucy raised a brow, an amused half grin turning the right side of her mouth up as she let out a laugh. "As an apology from Gajeel, you want to take me out for dinner?"

Natsu leaned against the driver's door, blocking her access with a smirk. "Yes. I believe that's what I asked."

Lucy let out a laugh. A bright contented laugh, one she felt at her core that she hadn't experienced in years. She felt lighter. Happy.

With a smile, she inched closer, inwardly relishing in the shy panicked expression that flashed in Natsu's eyes as he backed up from her, away from the door. The confidence she felt in that moment was momentary and she didn't want to lose her nerve.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't be fair to Gajeel to say no, now would it?"

She watched as his cheeks flushed and he did his best to keep his cool, clearing his throat and looking away. "No…no it wouldn't."

Lucy rummaged around in her purse. She couldn't believe she was doing this. The most cliché thing in the book of clichés.

Finding a Sharpie, she pulled the cap off with her teeth before grabbing the pinket's arm and pulling it across his chest. Since he worked with his hands, the best place for her to put her number would probably be his tricep.

Plus, she could only imagine how hilarious it would be to see him try and actually jot the number down. Backward numbers in a mirror, or if he asked his friends they could fuck with him and give him the wrong one.

She wrote them large and legibly though, she could make his life slightly difficult but not too much. She wasn't that evil.

Only a little.

She replaced the lid before taking the marker between two fingers, wiggling it absently, "Don't go losing that scarf again, eh? Who knows who'll pick it up the next time it's riding that low on your hips."

Climbing in the car, Lucy threw it into reverse and drove away, half laughing at the gobsmacked expression that lingered on Natsu's face at that moment.

The other half was screaming internally as she tried not to die of embarrassment.

Let me know what you guys think!

-xb