II.

(you are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down)

The trips to fighting rings increased after that. Under the unknowing eyes of my mother, my father and I became very close. Often we would talk about the fights and bet against each other on the next matches winner. Most of the time I prided myself on winning each bet. Occasionally though, an unexpected fighter would appear and completely dominate.

The years passed and I continued to look for the pink-haired boy. I often asked bartenders if they had set their eyes on his wild locks and rarely received an answer I wanted. He was always elusive. He was here the day before or he never showed. It was then I began to wonder what it was that kept a boy so immersed in fighting away from the arena. Not many people knew him and it wasn't like the adults would share information with me, even if I was the heiress of the Heartfilia Industries.

While I searched for the phantom boy, I failed to notice the things happening around me. I ignored the times my father couldn't leave the place for hours because he had passed out drunk. Somehow I missed the times where we'd return home and heated arguments would be spread among the lofty corridors in my home.

When I finally realized all of the bad things many father expertly hid from me, my fighting career started to come to fruition.

At home, my mother fell ill and wasn't permitted to leave her bed. Often she would push my father away. She didn't even want to see me. That first night after a very loud, long debate, she fainted. Not long after, she was drawn away into her room.

My father grabbed me from my room roughly, a harsh grip on my forearm that I had only ever felt when I was in trouble. We drove in silence to the ring. During those tense moments, I noticed the tears silently escaping down his cheeks. When we stopped, his tears grew to sobs as his broad shoulders sunk in defeat.

I had never seen many father cry. Frankly it scared me. Trying to comfort him, I wrapped my small arms around his trembling form. "It's ok daddy."

In my tiny heart I truly believed it. Everything was fine. When his arms pulled me onto his lap, his embrace crushing me, I felt an utter sadness overwhelm me. I cried with him. The shock of my mother's sickness and his devastation weighed on my shoulders. The only thing I could think was that everything was my fault. Mama's sickness, daddy's drinking habit, their fights and daddy's tears were all because of me. Together we stayed in the embrace, sobbing until the shaking stopped.

Even after, our embrace lingered. He was the first to finally speak. "I'm sorry Lucy. Daddy's alright, just a little sad for Mommy."

He released me, wiping the wet tears from my cheeks. He gave me a tense smile. "Why don't we go inside and watch a couple matches? That will make you feel better." I nodded, burying my head into his chest. I let him carry me there even though I was no longer small enough.

Like previous times before, I never caught sight of the boy named Natsu. I didn't search for him anyway, I glued myself to my father the whole night. It was the first time I had ever stayed by his side and I began to see everything.

After hours at the bar sipping alcohol with his friends, he made his way over to the betting table. It was the first time I had ever seen him there. He gambled the whole night trading jokes about his whore of a wife. Everyone thought it was funny. Even he laughed.

I tried to ignore it, I had become used to my father's drunken babble. But the moment that broke me was the moment a scarcely dressed prostitute latched her fingers onto his coat sleeve. "Does daddy want to play today?"

At the time I didn't seem to notice her piercing gaze had found me and the way her voice mocked me. My father stood from the table, grabbing the woman. "Sorry fellas, daddy's got a playdate." A couple of the men laughed as the woman steered him away.

I watched with shocked eyes, fresh tears threatening to spill. He left me and he left my mother behind at that damned table.

A thin brunette across from me laughed. "Don't look so surprised deary, it's not the first time your father has ever had some fun."

The men around him chuckled and snorted in drunk humor. His shrewd grey eyes watched me. "In fact I wouldn't mind if you joined me for some fun."

Shocked, angry and terrified I sprinted right out of that awful place. The only thing I left behind was male laughter and the trust I had in my father.

I stumbled through streets I didn't know, crawling through mud and giant towering buildings. I lost my way among the long narrow streets and the chilly autumn air.

I cried for hours until there were no tears left to cry. Dirty, tired and frozen, I wallowed in loneliness.

A light tread of footsteps disrupted my silent musings. When I saw those bare feet and my eyes drifted all the way to that dingy scarf and that wild hair, I felt comforted. I felt safe. "It's nice to see ya again Heartfilia, how ya been?"

In exhaustion and utter excitement, my body moved of its own accord to squeeze him in a hug. His body was delightfully warm in contrast to my shivering body. "Did you miss me that much?"

Yes.

I shoved him away from me playfully. "Who would miss a weird person like you?"

His calloused hands pulled my cheeks. "I'm not the weird one. You didn't even say hi to me, you just hugged me like I was a lost puppy or somethin."

We were the same. Though two years had flown by, nothing seemed to be different. For just a few short hours with him, I forgot my father.

Wow it's been awhile. Sorry about that. For a long time I couldn't figure out how to start this chapter, but here it is.

I'm not completely done with the backstory. Hopefully I'll be updating a couple days before I leave internet during the summer.

Sorry this is so short, I promise a longer chapter next time.

Anyway I hope you liked the update.

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~ Brannasaurus Rex