A/N: And so here is the final chapter of this fic. After this, there is only a shorter epilogue that I count on posting sometime this weekend or in the beginning of next week, as I haven't yet had the time to finish this. I hope you liked it overall. I tried to make the most of this weird prompt of mine...

Also, you might want to read 'Memories from Before' before getting to this or you won't understand some things...

With that said, go ahead and read!

The little boy (Jellal wasn't sure how but he just knew, somehow, that it was a boy rather than a girl, blue-themed room notwithstanding) looked at him with a pout.

Jellal looked back. No word was said for about a whole minute… that is, until Jellal saw the baby's lower lip trembling and knew instinctively that was the foreshadowing of something bad. And no matter what, he just couldn't stand idly by as it happened.

"H-hi," he said awkwardly, not sure about what to say or do about a child so young.

The presumably little boy just blinked at him, not responding. Jellal wasn't sure how but he just knew that the baby was too little to know how to talk. In fact, if he asked himself how old he was, the answer would come as 'seven months' – he had no idea how he knew all that stuff. He wondered if it was the memories returning – clearly, it wasn't the first time he saw that baby.

The boy made some sort of sound and then lifted his arms up above his head, looking at him pointedly.

"Do… do you need something?" he asked the baby.

The infant just kept on looking at him, his eyes pleading. Clearly, he wanted something. Could it be…?

"Are you asking me to get you out of there?" he questioned. "The cage?" Crib. The word came to mind all of a sudden and he was immediately sure it was the cage-contraption's name. "The crib, I mean."

The baby made an indignant sound, as if accusing him of taking too long.

"But… I don't remember how to pick up a baby," he said. "I'll probably drop you."

The child was in no way interested in that argument or any notion of safety, really – he just wanted him (Daddy, unknowingly to Jellal) to pick him up. So, he pulled the big guns. He whimpered.

"No, no, don't do that! Don't cry!" he said almost desperately. "Alright, alright, I'll do it! I'll pick you up. Just… give me a second."

The baby pouted up at him, waiting impatiently. Nervous, Jellal approached the side of the crib and reached hesitantly for the baby. Auto-pilot kicked in. His hands went to secure the child right under his armpits and it seemed to work on giving him a decent enough hold of him that he felt confident that he could lift the baby without dropping him. Afterwards, he just stood there, puzzled at the fact that he had managed to secure the child against his hip so easily.

"That was simpler than I thought it would be," he mumbled. It was like his body had moved partially on its own... as if remembering the mechanics but not the history.

On his arms, the baby seemed satisfied, resting his head against his chest and sucking on his thumb happily. He couldn't help but wonder who that baby was… and why he seemed just so comfortable with him. Did this baby know him so well? And why did it seem like all memories that were coming back to him concerned that little boy? Was he that important? He didn't know why but he felt really, really good just by holding him. It just felt… right.

Just then, he heard some sort of sound from outside, as if a door had just opened and closed and then steps in the direction of that room. Before he could react, Erza stepped in, her eyes widening when she saw him there, and even more when she saw him with the baby on his arms.

"J-Jellal…" she said, her voice utterly riddled with alarm.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized immediately. "I didn't mean to come in here but I heard whimpering and I came in to see what was going on and then he was here and he wanted me to pick him up and I just did it so he wouldn't cry and I…"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong!" she found herself saying immediately, unable to face him looking so guilty over something so… mild. "It's… it's perfectly fine. " She had been alarmed at first but after seeing how comfortably he was holding the baby, she'd been relieved, not to mention touched – it was as if his fatherly instinct had remained despite the misplaced memories. Sieg surely seemed unable to notice any difference in his father, clinging to him just like he would any other day. Maybe she had overreacted a little concerning the baby's introduction to this temporary version of Jellal…

"Who… who is this?" Jellal asked.

Erza bit down on her lip out of nervousness for a moment. "That's Sieg," she responded.

"Sieg…" he repeated, almost reverently. It was a name he recognized – a name from his childhood before the tower, which he had most certainly not expected to see on a random baby. But that wasn't a random baby, was it? He must be… "What is he doing here? Is he yours?" he asked.

She nodded, fearing his reaction. He didn't seem to have made the math by just hearing the name – that the name was his, therefore so was the baby. Yet, he surprised her by smiling rather than showing any awkwardness or hesitation.

"I thought so. His hair is just like yours," he pointed out.

And his eyes were just like his but that he didn't seem to notice.

In his arms, the baby let out a little attention-seeking sound that had his mother walking over to him.

"What is it, baby?" she asked softly of her son, stroking her fingers gently over his silk-fine hair.

The baby looked at her with a pout and grabbed a fistful of her own hair while sucking avidly on his other hand – not just the thumb, the entire hand. Jellal smiled, amused at the baby's gesture.

"He really likes your hair too!" he said, sounding utterly delighted by that fact.

"Most babies do." But in his case, it came straight from his daddy, Erza thought to herself. "I think he may be hungry," she declared. "He usually eats around this time, so that's probably it. If we take him downstairs, I can get him something to eat. Do you want me to take him?"

Jellal thought of it for a moment. In theory, he should probably hand the baby over, seeing as he did belong to Erza and yet… he didn't want to let go! He felt possessive of the boy… and judging by the way he comfortably clutched to his shirt with the same little hand that was holding a fistful of Erza's hair, the little boy didn't seem to mind at all. "I… I think I can get him down there myself… I mean, unless you think it's safer if you do it," he mumbled, hoping she would just let him keep him a little longer.

Erza shook her head, smiling as she freed the strands of her hair from her son's hold (who, surprisingly, didn't protest much beyond an indignant noise). "I'll go ahead and you follow with him, then," she urged him.

He did just that, happy to carry the tiny redheaded boy after her. She led the way into the kitchen and, once inside, went to reach for a banana from the fruit basket on the counter. As she started cutting it into a bowl and smashing it into purée with a fork, the blue-haired man-who-thought-he-was-a-boy was happy to just sit on one of the chairs with the baby perched on his lap, watching Erza.

It was weird in a way – watching grownup Erza. She was the same and yet completely different… She was a mom. And as he glanced down to see what little Sieg was up to, he saw him watching his mother silently as well, while still attempting to swallow his hand whole – it was easy to see he absolutely adored her and witnessing that brought bittersweet feelings to his mind because once upon a time he had had a mom and he had adored her just as much as that baby adored Erza. Even though he wasn't one to wallow on the things he had lost, every once on a while he just couldn't help mourning it all: his lost life, the mother whose name he couldn't even recall, the male presence he had admired so much (His brother? Uncle? Father, even though such had never been stated?)… and whose name coincidently was shared by the baby on his lap. That made him wonder.

"Hey, Erza," he said. "The name 'Sieg'… where did it come from?"

Erza tensed a little, pausing her work for a moment. He was asking her a direct question and she most certainly could… would not lie to him about it. Especially not when it concerned his son. He should know.

"His dad," she replied.

The baby's dad… it must be the guy Erza lived with. The one he had gotten the clothes from. That made him feel… annoyed. "Oh… did he give it to him, then?"

Should she just up and say it cold turkey? She was starting to think that holding that sort of information from him might be… wrong. It was his child, after all – his life. As much as she might fear a bit of awkwardness, she felt like telling him was the right thing to do… or maybe just give him the grounds to figure it out himself. Yes, that might be easier for everyone. Not to mention less awkward for her.

"No," she truthfully replied. "I was the one who suggested it. But only because I knew it was a name that was important to him. It belonged to someone he had admired very much… someone he had lost."

Behind her back, Jellal frowned a little. So that guy had had a Sieg of his own? That sounded… bad. He just didn't like it at all – that that guy had something in common with him like that. It was weird - copycat!

Now, it should be noted that he knew next to nothing about romantic relationships between people – concerning Erza, he had known from very early on that he wanted her on his life forever. He had known it was love, but not any different from the sort of love that he had for his lost mother, Millianna as an adopted little sister or Grandpa Rob as a surrogate grandfather. So, for that reason, it wasn't easy for him to understand just why he appeared to detest that guy so much... Sieg's dad - he wasn't one for baseless dislike and he'd never even met the guy so, for all he knew, he was just a nice guy that Erza liked. Still, for some reason, it just didn't rub him the right way that he was in Erza's life, so closely connected to her as the father of her child – in a way, it felt like that made that faceless man trump over him and pettily, maybe, he didn't like it one bit… which in turn made him feel kind of bad.

"Is he coming home soon?" he asked, his tone a bit tenser.

She sighed, picking up the plate of smashed bananas and bringing it over to the table, dragging a chair and placing it in front of Jellal so that she could face him and her son. "No."

The frown deepened. "What do you mean 'no'? Is he that far away? Doesn't he live here?"

"No, he does live here. And he's very close by, actually," she pointed out, using a small plastic spoon to feed the baby some of the smashed yellow fruit. The little boy didn't make a fuss about it until she actually tried to pull the spoon back, at which point he gripped the spoon's handle and tried to shove it further into his mouth in an attempt to chew on it to relieve his teething pains. "No, that's not good for you," Erza said to the baby. When she had to actually uncurl each of his little fingers from around the spoon in order not to hurt him while pulling the piece of cutlery back, the baby whined and shot her a look of betrayal mixed together with a pout. For a second, it seemed like he might actually start crying… that was, until Jellal took the boy by surprise by giving him two fingers to hold, one on each hand, so that he would both distract the boy and keep his hands occupied. Erza sighed in relief. "Thank you."

He didn't acknowledge her gratitude, though, as his mind was too focused on something else. "Why won't he come home to you and your baby?"

It's time, she told herself. The final nail on the coffin. "I never said he wasn't already home," she told him, putting the spoon back in the bowl of baby food.

… or maybe not quite the last nail after all. "Eh? There's someone else over here with us?" he said, sounding mildly disturbed. "When did he get here? Was it while I was in the shower?"

She frowned. That was being harder than she'd predicted. "No. He was here all along."

He raised an eyebrow. "All along?! Then how come he hasn't said 'hi' or anything? That's kind of rude," he commented. He had been right all along – that guy Erza lived with was a jerk!

She sighed. "Jellal, there are only three people in this house: you, me and the baby."

"But… but then…" There was a look of shock on his face and, for a moment, she was sure that he had reached the conclusion she wanted him to. Until… "Don't… don't tell me he's a ghost or something! Is that it? He's dead and haunting the house?!"

The redhead nearly groaned. "He is not dead and this house is most certainly not haunted. What I am telling you is that there are three people living in this house and that is me, Sieg and… well, and you."

His face was blank for a moment. "So I'm a lodger here, then?" he asked

She slapped her own face in disbelief. Was the person in front of her not supposed to be a genius? Even as a child, she recalled him as being incredibly clever, so why in Mavis' name was it taking him so long to do the mat…? Oh, wait.

For a moment there, she had actually underestimated the degree of naïveté Jellal had had all those years before. He had lived alone with his mother in the middle of nowhere, so it made sense that he wouldn't have a real notion concerning standard family units.

That meant… She paused her thoughts, shuddering. She might have to tell him. In actual words. Could things ever get any more awkward than having to tell a guy with the temporary mental age of ten-years-old that he was the father of her child? It felt… icky in so many ways. Part of her felt actually guilty, as if she was some sort of child molester!

But then… "Wait, but you said Sieg's dad lived here too, so if it's just you, me and the baby then where does he fit?" And finally, it sunk on him. He was old, he lived with Erza and supposedly so did Sieg's dad… that made four people… but if Erza was saying there was only three of them in that house, which must mean that two of those people were one and the same… which, by exclusion, meant… "Ohhhhhhhh."

Then, his eyes went wide and he started to blush. Not because he knew the mechanics that making a baby involved but because he and Erza had a child and they lived together and somehow knew that was a big deal. Because he would be… was a dad and Erza was a mom to the same baby and that was something nobody could ever take away from them – that thing… person they had in common. And that… well, that felt kind of weird because last he remembered, he had been ten and ten-year-olds and fatherhood weren't really something that was meant to be mixed together, but at the same time, it was a victory because it was him and Erza and someone that was theirs alone.

And so, little Sieg Scarlet was suddenly lifted up and turned around, finding himself being stared at intently by his father. He held the confused baby up in front of him, then looked at Erza, then back to the baby and then around, as if looking for something he could spot his reflection on.

"The eyes," Erza provided, noticing his behavior. "The color of his eyes is the same as yours. And I think he has your chin too… He may have your nose as well, but it is hard to tell at this point when he's still so little."

Now that she said it, it looked so painfully obvious that he felt stupid. Still, there were so many questions. Starting with… "But… but how?"

Erza looked stumped. "Eh?"

"I mean, how did we have a baby?" he questioned, sitting said baby back down on his lap.

She started fidgeting. "We… er… well, we… became closer when we… hmm, grew… and things progressed… naturally, I suppose… we got married.." After the fact, it must be noted...

"No, I get that. We became even better friends than before. The best of the best of the best of friends, so much that we live together. But how exactly did that lead to a baby?"

She felt her throat starting to close as if she was choking on something. Probably the humongous amount of embarrassment she was being forced to swallow at the moment.

"I mean, was he a reward or something?" Jellal went on obliviously. "Did someone give him to us as an award for being the bestest of friends? Just… where exactly did this baby come from? I always wondered about that sort of stuff… Grandpa Rob said he'd tell me when I got older but I am older now and I guess I probably already know and just don't remember it for the moment but he's not around, so can you just let me know now because I really want to know?"

Oh god, he had not… he could have not… no. No. She was not going to explain to her husband – the father of her child – where babies came from. It was too… no. Just no.

"Erza?" he insisted

"Stork brought in inside a cabbage!" she responded before she could think. She got to her feet in a movement so fast Jellal almost missed it and she made a beeline for the door. "Need to go. There's something burning in the washing machine. The stove! I mean the stove!" She paused for a moment, considering that the stove was not located in that very room. "Wait, no I do mean the Washing Mashine. But not burning! I meant soaking! I must go – no time to speak!"

And she was gone. Just like that, retreating to the basement and looking around for an inexistent hole to bury herself in and never get out of. 'Stork brought him in a cabbage'... for the love of Mavis! Could she have said something even worse?!

But the eternity she had meant to spend hiding under the house became five minutes when she heard Jellal panickedly calling her name from upstairs, which had her rushing back up in a flash, thinking there might be something wrong with her baby.

There wasn't. Or rather, there was, but it was mostly banana-purée-soiled clothes and a bowl covered with baby drool.

"I'm so sorry," Jellal apologized profusely. He, too, had banana purée all over himself, from his face to his shirt. "I tried to finish giving him his food, but he got a hold of the bowl and food went flying everywhere and now he's just trying to eat the bowl itself and I don't really know what to do so… help?"

She looked at his desperate, dishelved self and then at the self-satisfied bowl-chewing and banana-covered little boy he was holding. Then, she took a breath and went to collect the child in question.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were back in the nursery, Jellal sitting on the rocking-chair wearing another change of clothes and watching it as Erza dressed a newly-cleaned baby as well.

"I'm really sorry again. It's just that he looked hungry and I thought it would be okay to feed him by myself… I should have guessed I'd be no good at it."

Erza shook her head. "No. I am the one to blame. I neglected to finish feeding him and you tried covering for me – if anything, I should be thanking you."

"For the mess I made?" he replied, sounding a little downcast. "Am I usually this clumsy with him or is it just the memory thing?"

"It should be the memory issues," she stated. "Rest assured that you are a wonderful father to Sieg, Jellal."

His face lit up a little. "Really?"

She nodded. "You are very hands-on with him and the two of you have a very close bond. When he's able to reach it, he loves poking your tattoo almost as much as he loves holding onto my hair."

Wow – if little Sieg was anything like him when it came to Erza's hair, that must mean a lot. He leaned back against the back of chair and sighed happily. "I can't believe this is what my life is like now… I must be walking on air all day long."

She didn't respond, busying herself with putting her son's flail-y arm through the sleeve of his shirt. It was impossible to say anything about Jellal's words. If she agreed, she would be lying, if she didn't, she would be opening the worst possible can of worms she could. There was just no addressing it. So, she simply didn't.

After she was done dressing up her son, she picked him up and brought him closer to her face so that she could press a kiss to his forehead. The baby cooed and grabbed his usual handful of hair as she turned around to face Jellal… only to find him looking at her with a strange expression on his face. It was hard to describe: happiness mixed with sadness mixed with longing. It didn't quite fit that version of Jellal, and for a moment, it had her wondering if he was back – her Jellal. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, his voice still soft. "It's just… when you did that… when you kissed his forehead, I mean, I remembered that my mother used to do that to me… before. It think it felt… nice. My memories of that stuff are hazy now."

Her heart broke a little at that. Her mind travelled back to a conversation she and Jellal had had a few months before, on Valentine's Day. Back then, he had admitted that a lot of the cheerfulness and positivity he had shown in his childhood had been out of desperation for at least something good to happen in the small piece of hell they lived in. At the time, she had found it hard to believe – that the aura of hope he had always emanated was only a mask. But now that she got a glimpse of the sadness that had probably been underneath all along, she finally understood – hope wasn't a mask. It was both a weapon and a shield he had yielded to fight that sadness… and, back then, he had done it like nobody else could, to the point that he had became hope itself to others. But sadness was still there and it wasn't until that moment, years after that version of him had been torn by manipulation and guilt, in the midst of a tiny little glimpse into the past, that she could really see it… and that she found her chance to do the same for him. Be his hope.

So, after walking over to the rocking chair, she placed the baby on his lap, which he took eagerly, securing the little boy by wrapping one arm around him. Then, much to his surprise, her hand reached to touch his forehead and pull the hair falling over it back. And finally, she leaned foreward and placed a kiss there, much like he seemed to be longing for, although not quite from her in specific. That was as much as she could do for him, though.

When she pulled back, she saw a reddish tint on his face as he looked at her with wide eyes due to surprise.

"There," she said softly. "Was that like you remembered it?"

To her surprise, he shook his head. "It was different… but it was good too."

She nodded and was surprised to find that she was glad for that – it only showed that a mother's love was not something that could be replaced, even by another type of intense love. "It's getting late," she declared. "I should go and heat something up for us to have for dinner."

"Oh, okay," he said. "I can look after Sieg while you do it. I promise I won't get him all dirty again. Mostly because there's no food around."

She smiled, not doubting it as her son also looked halfway to dreamland against the crook of his father arm, lulled by his soft motions back and forth on the rocking chair. "I'll be going, then," she declared, starting to turn around.

"Wait, Erza?" he called her back before she could go.

"Yes?" she responded, turning back.

He smiled. "Before you go… I don't know if I'll remember this… now, after I remember everything else, so do me a favor and tell future me… real me, I guess, one thing."

"What?"

"Tell him he's found heaven, so he'd better enjoy being in it since I can't do it myself," Jellal told her.

Heaven – the words resounded in her mind. It sounded bittersweet when he said it. "He is you, Jellal."

"Yeah, but you said I'm different, so I'm just covering my bases," he pointed out. "So… tell him, alright?"

She nodded. "I will." And, with that, she was gone.

It wasn't until she returned twenty minutes later to find father and son asleep on the rocking chair that she realized that had been their goodbye.

Because deep down in her mind, she knew that the Jellal that would wake up wouldn't be the same one that had fallen asleep. And although part of her was glad to have her own grownup Jellal back, she couldn't help but see that cheerful, innocent version of him fading back into the past.

To be continued...