"Are you familiar with the term Survivor's Guilt?" Doctor Milkovitch asked.

"Yes. It's a psychological condition. Are you going to tell me I have it?"

She studied him for a long moment before scratching a few notes on her pad. "No, actually. Not in a traditionally described way, at least."

"I feel guilty."

"You've expressed guilt, yes, but not because you feel that you should've died along with Simon. I'm seeing more of a guilt over the manner of his death." Jellal nodded and focused on the floral design of the rug in Doctor Milkovitch's office. "Was it Simon's death that propelled you into your current profession?"

"Yeah, I had that totally cliché idea that I could make a difference and save some lives."

"And you don't feel like that goal has been accomplished? Your personnel file says differently."

Jellal shrugged. "Things always look different on paper."

Doctor Milkovitch tossed her notepad aside and his eyebrows flew up. She'd never done that before. "You're trying to pay a debt, Jellal, and your job doesn't work that way."

"I don't –"

"You can't save X amount of lives and somehow earn atonement for a death you didn't cause to begin with. Nor can you somehow make up for Simon's loss. Your cause is noble, perhaps, but there isn't going to be a green check mark in the sky when you reach an arbitrary, undefined goal." She crossed her legs and folded her hands over a knee. "Or have you a defined goal?"

"I don't. I just thought that one day things…" Jellal trailed off and grimaced. "Yeah, giant green check mark in the sky, I guess."

"The third stage of grief is typically bargaining."

"It's been eight years, though."

Doctor Milkovitch retrieved her notepad. "Some take longer than others. Do you need a chemical resolution for your depression? I could prescribe you something."

"No, I don't want to take medication."

"Many people consider acceptance to be the final stage of grief but it's not entirely uncommon to regress back and forward. Try looking at your situation through the lens of acceptance and you may find that Simon's death was not only beyond your circle of influence, but that your own life is worth something, too."


J U L Y


Laxus Dreyer stared at Jellal from across his desk and steepled his fingers. Jellal's record from Crocus sat neatly compiled in a brown file in the center of the desk. It didn't appear that Laxus had even glanced at it. The last time he'd seen Laxus was at Simon's funeral, and he didn't remember the boy having the snaking scar over his left eye that the man did. Jellal finally cleared his throat.

"Is there a problem with my paperwork or –"

"I don't give a fuck about your paperwork, Fernandes."

"Oh." He didn't quite know how to respond to such a roguish reply, and fell into silence.

"If I take you on, I don't want any bullshit."

"Bullshit?"

"If I didn't have the respect for Mikazuchi that I do, you'd be sweeping floors in the garage. I don't like you, Fernandes, and I never have. You're a quitter. Shit gets rough and you walk away."

Ah. He deserved that. "I don't expect any special treatment here. That's not why I came."

"We all know why you're here, Fernandes. The whole goddamn town knows. It makes me sick that you didn't show your face again until your baby sister gets knocked up by some –"

"Stop." Jellal said through his teeth. "You can say what you want about me but not a word about Meredy. Not unless you want me to split that scar on your fucking face open with my fist."

Laxus leaned back in his chair – which squealed loudly – and finally grinned. "Interesting."

"Excuse me?"

"Family comes first, Fernandes. I'm glad you feel the same – even if it took you a decade. You can start tomorrow with Mikazuchi in the number four bus. Get your shift from her – I don't mess with that shit. My wife, Mira, does the shopping so if you want something specific for the kitchens you'll need to take that up with her." Laxus reached behind him to open a file drawer and unceremoniously tossed all of Jellal's paperwork inside. "Now get the hell out of my office."

"Right, thank you, sir." Jellal stood from his chair and cleared out of the office as quickly as possible. It had been the oddest job interview of his life. Kagura waited at the end of the hall.

"Well?" she asked.

"He didn't go easy on me, but I can start tomorrow."

"Well I didn't expect him to go easy, but Laxus isn't nearly as much of a hardass as his grandfather was."

"Oh, I remember Makarov. Tiny but terrifying." Kagura laughed and led him into the main garage.

"This is ours." She smoothed her hand over the red stripe that ran along the side of the ambulance. "Be here at six in the morning and we'll get you a uniform and medic bag of your own. Don't be late!" Kagura called after him as he walked through the large garage door.

"I wouldn't dare," he replied. For the first time in a while, Jellal felt good.


Five o'clock in the morning came earlier than Jellal thought it would. He'd gone to bed early in preparation for the twelve-hour shift but fatigue still clung when he dragged himself from his sheets. Meredy remained miraculously asleep – usually she was up and overwhelmed with nausea by this time – and he hated to wake her. Instead, he left her a note on the kitchen table.

By the time he pulled into the fire station parking lot Jellal was brimming with nerves and drank only half the coffee Kagura had thrust at him upon entering the garage. Not everyone was as pleased with his employment as his partner. He recognized Gray right away. The scowling involved was mutual.

"Fernandes," Gray muttered as he tossed a few pairs of pants and t-shirts at him.

"Fullbuster," Jellal mumbled. At least his uniform fit and he wouldn't have to subject himself to another visit to the equipment rooms. Gray had been an athletic rival in high school and clearly didn't think any better of him now than he had back then. Kagura was waiting for him in the driver's seat when he climbed into the ambulance.

"Ready?" she chirped.

"As much as I'll ever be. Do you always drive or…"

She glanced at him balefully. "Yes. Always." Kagura pulled from the fire station and turned onto Main Street. "We normally would hang around here until a call came through but today I want to show you the area we're responsible for. I feel like I've been on the bench forever."

The first half of their shift was uneventful. He'd seen how much Rosemary had grown up in the last eight years and was glad Kagura took the time to show him – even if he'd never be the one behind the wheel. At two o'clock though an emergency call came through that made his heart catch in his chest; a fire had been reported at the restaurant where he knew Meredy worked. The red and blue lights flashed and the sound of sirens filled Jellal's ears but he didn't notice any of it. His mind was on a permanent loop of his sister in danger.

The fire originated in faulty wiring but was compounded by frying oil. When the ambulance arrived on scene the restaurant was a smoking, charred skeleton. He found Meredy on the edge of the property looking frazzled and agitated.

"Jellal!" she cried and threw herself at his chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked, squeezing her arms and inspecting her for damage. "Did you breathe in a lot of smoke?"

"I'm fine. I was actually outside when the explosion happened but…" she trailed off and her eyes scanned the crowd of gathering citizens and displaced employees. "But Erza…"

"Erza? What?"

"I swear I meant to tell you, Jellal, but it just never came up."

"What about Erza, Meredy? What does any of this have to do with her?" She looked so guilty and his nerves from that morning returned in a raging force.

"It's her restaurant," Meredy said quietly. Jellal frowned and glanced around the sea of faces himself.

"Was she inside when the kitchen exploded?"

"I – I think so? Someone said she was…" Jellal left Meredy on the curb and joined Kagura who was triaging victims. None had severe enough burns to be taken to the emergency room.

Finally he saw a flash of familiar red hair. His stomach clenched and a cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

Erza stood with Laxus and they were speaking in hushed but angry tones. Her left arm was cradled against her chest and Jellal could tell the skin was red and inflamed. He didn't catch any part of their conversation until he got closer.

"I told you months ago that kitchen was a fire hazard, Erza. I don't see how you can possibly be surprised."

"It wasn't in violation of the city code!" She hissed through her teeth and Laxus threw his hands up.

"I never said that it was."

"I swear to god, Laxus if my insurance claim is denied –" Laxus glanced over his shoulder at Jellal's approach.

"Ah, perfect. Just perfect. Miss Scarlet you need some medical care for that arm and I'm sure Fernandes here can handle it for you." He smirked at Jellal and stepped aside.

"Fernandes?" Erza repeated quietly.

"I'll help you all I can, Erza, but for now I'll leave you in capable – and familiar – hands." Laxus disappeared into the crowd.

"That's a nasty burn on your arm, Erza," Jellal muttered pointing at her. "If you want to come have a seat in the ambulance I can –"

"Kagura can handle it." Erza shoved past him and marched toward the ambulance herself.

"I'm perfectly qualified to –"

"I don't want you touching me." Jellal sighed and tried to ignore the stares they were gathering.

"If you'd just –" Erza whirled around and pinned him with a terrifying glare. She opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it and pursed her lips instead. "I'm sorry," Jellal said quietly.

"Sorry doesn't mean a goddamn thing to me, Jellal." She sat on the edge of the bright silver bumper and wouldn't even look at him. When Kagura finally returned to the rear of the ambulance Jellal wordlessly climbed inside to wait for her to finish. Erza would likely refuse a ride to the hospital and seek her own follow up treatment.

As the minutes ticked by Jellal couldn't help but compare the version of Erza he'd known – and loved – in high school and the very angry woman he'd just met. She was still just as beautiful, and he couldn't pretend that seeing her again hadn't reignited all of the feelings he'd buried in the last eight years. However, Erza obviously did not return any of those sentiments. Jellal didn't think he would've deserved the same forgiveness Kagura had given if she'd offered. Besides Meredy, Erza had been the one he'd hurt the most with his departure.

"Wow, she was not happy to see you," Kagura said as she hopped up into the driver's seat. Jellal's reply was a noncommittal grunt. "I don't think I've ever heard Erza tear into anyone the way she did you back there."

"Yeah, well… I'm sure I deserved it."

Kagura went on as if he hadn't spoken at all. "I didn't realize she was so still so mad at you. She and Meredy are pretty close."

"Are they?"

"Yep. I don't know what she'll do now that the restaurant is toast."

"Erza will figure something out. She always does."

Jellal didn't have much to say for the remainder of his shift, and Kagura didn't press.