A/Ns at the bottom, if you care to read. ;)

CHAPTER 2: FIX
AN UNLIKELY FRIEND

Lucy stared at the door for what felt like an eternity as she anxiously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. After Bickslow had left, she'd stared at her ceiling in the dark for hours. She couldn't sleep, not when her mind wouldn't shut off. All she could think about was her conversation with Bickslow, and the fact that out of everyone in the entire guild, he'd been the one to see through everything.

And she wanted to know how.

Why was it Bickslow? Why wasn't it someone like Natsu? Or Erza? Or Gray? Or even Levy or Mira? Why had someone she rarely spoke to been able to notice she wasn't happy, when the ones she was closest to were completely oblivious to it?

She needed to know why it had been Bickslow, and it was why she presently found herself standing outside his door at three o'clock in the morning – address courtesy of Loke, much to his confusion. All she could do was stare at it as she held her cardigan wrapped tightly around her body, her hands clutching her arms. It was so late, and she knew she should at least wait until the morning to talk to Bickslow, but… she couldn't. She couldn't wait to find out just how Bickslow had found out.

So with a sigh, she lifted one of her hands to quickly rap her knuckles on the wood of the door. As soon as she'd done so, she began to panic again, and once again, she wasn't entirely sure why.

Maybe Bickslow would be mad at her for waking him up at such a late hour, or maybe she'd be interrupting him with… someone. No one really knew much about his personal life – maybe he had a girlfriend? Hell, even a boyfriend? Or maybe just… someone. No one knew, because no one really knew anything about him. For whatever reason, when it came to the Raijinshuu, no one else in the guild knew much about them.

But as the fleeting thought about leaving – hoping that he didn't hear his door – crossed her mind and she was just about to turn on her heels and quietly bound down the hall to the stairs, the door opened. Bickslow had stood there seemingly bored by the late night visitor, a hand resting on the handle, until he realised just who had come knocking on his door in the first place.

He raised an eyebrow at the blonde outside his door. "It's three o'clock in the morning," he stated, skipping a greeting entirely.

"I know it is," she looked down slightly as she felt a warmth spread on her face. A visorless and shirtless Bickslow was not what she expected to be seeing, but then again, she probably had woken him up. "And I'm sorry for waking you—"

"I wasn't asleep," he interrupted. The truth was that much like Lucy, he couldn't sleep. He'd been too busy thinking of what to do about Lucy. He couldn't ignore it, but he couldn't fix it, and he'd unintentionally made things worse for himself by trying to get involved.

"O-oh…" Lucy stammered as she raised her eyes slightly. "Well, I'm still sorry for coming by so late… but I just wanted to ask how it was you knew," she mumbled.

"Knew what?"

"Knew that I wasn't… happy. You know, assuming I wasn't, because I'm not saying that I'm not happy." Because for whatever reason, Lucy just still couldn't bring herself to admitting it yet, even though Bickslow already knew it.

Bickslow was suddenly aware that he was without his visor then, and now that he knew where the conversation was going, he couldn't go without it. It was part of his walls that were constantly up, yet for not the first time that day, he could feel them all slipping away with Lucy. Even with just a few words being shared between them, there was a small part of him that really did want to tear them down, but he was still scared. He was always afraid of what could possibly happen when he did that, and that's what had him quickly turning and heading back into his apartment in search for his visor without actually answering the question.

When he left, Lucy stood motionless and confused in the doorway for just a short moment before she cautiously moved forward. The door was left open, so surely he was inviting her in, right?

She hoped so, anyway.

As Bickslow came back out into his living room, he shrugged his sweater on over his head and lazily pushed the sleeves up before going back over to the door. "I um… I don't know," he mumbled as he closed the door when Lucy took another few steps into the room. "You were just different one day."

"Right…" Lucy mumbled, quickly glancing at her surroundings before back to Bickslow standing with his back against a wall and his arms folded.

She was still confused. She'd already established that Bickslow had known for a while, if not the entire time, but she didn't know how. What was it that she'd done to give it away? Was it something small that only someone who was paying attention would notice, or something huge that everyone else had missed because they just didn't care?

"But… how?" she asked quietly, her brows knitting together slightly as she looked down to the ground. "How was I… different?"

Bickslow pushed himself up from the wall then with a slight shrug. "You just were," he said. Your smile wasn't genuine, your laugh wasn't as bright, and then not to mention your entire soul issue, plus a hundred other miniscule things. There was no way in hell Bickslow could say that. "You just didn't seem happy, and you still don't."

Lucy was growing frustrated, but she knew it wasn't worth it. She felt as if Bickslow was purposely avoiding answering the question like she wanted it to be, but she didn't want to push it. Truthfully, though, she could see that it didn't matter. The point was that he knew, and he really had quite possibly known the entire time.

But there was another issue that remained. It was that Bickslow had actually confronted her about it, and it was almost as if he… cared. And out of everyone, he was one of the last people she suspected of ever caring.

So as he lifted himself to sit on his kitchen counter on the far side of the room and idly sip away at something Lucy could only assume was alcohol of some sort, she slowly navigated past the lounge and dining table to stand at the end of the island. Looking down at the ground, she once again wrapped her arms around herself, and quietly, she asked, "Why do you care?"

Because I love you.

He couldn't say that, even though it was the truth. It was why he'd been able to tell that something was wrong, because each and every day he was in the guild, he wasn't seeing the same Lucy he was in love with; only a shell of that same girl. It was why it hurt Bickslow so much to see her like that, because seeing someone you love hurting when you can't do a single thing about it is horrible. It was why he wanted to help her, because he really couldn't stand to see her like that any longer.

But he didn't know how to, and it didn't help that she wasn't letting him. But he'd expected that, truly. That's just what happens when you love someone you can never have, and Bickslow had accepted that he'd never have Lucy. She'd never love him back and he'd always known that, and as sad as it was for Bickslow, he was strangely fine with that.

Even if she did ever love him back, they just wouldn't work. He was Bickslow, and she was Lucy. Nothing about them would make sense and it just wouldn't work in any world, universe, or scenario. It's why he was fine with it.

It wasn't like Bickslow wanted to be in love with her either, because he almost hated that he was. He hadn't wanted to fall in love with her, but then one day, he realised he had. It was why he so desperately needed to make sure he kept all of his walls up around her. He couldn't let her know just how much he cared, because it just wasn't fair.

"Because I do," he said instead as he took another sip from the glass. "Am I not allowed to care about people in my guild?"

"N-no, I just…" Lucy realised it was a fair question, and in a sense, it was a plausible explanation. But there was just a tiny part of her that still felt like he was purposely avoiding answering it properly again. It was almost as if he was keeping the actual reason from her, because as reasonable as it was for it to be because they were in the same guild, Lucy didn't think that was the real reason, but she knew there was one. There had to be a reason for Bickslow caring, because no one did anything without a reason.

Well, that's just what Lucy thought.

So with a sigh, she said, "I just don't understand. None of this makes sense."

He arched a brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I mean, you, supposedly caring, and just you in general, because I feel as if you're purposely avoiding not telling me how you figured it out—"

"Lucy—"

"—and how you managed to see through everything at the guild in the first place, because I tried so hard to make sure that no one would know anything had changed, but somehow you knew, and I can't help but hate the fact that you do—"

Bickslow put his glass down on the bench gently and hopped down from the counter. "Lucy, stop—" He could see that with each second, Lucy was getting more and more agitated. But once again, his words went ignored as she continued to ramble – something he'd never seen or known her to ever do.

"—because I just wanted to deal with it all on my own because that's what I felt like I had to do because no one—" But that time, Lucy was actually silenced, and it wasn't of her own accord. Rather, it was because Bickslow had covered her mouth with his hand, and all she could do was blink up at him while inwardly thanking him from stopping her rambling that she hadn't seen coming.

"I know you tried to make it seem like you're fine, I really do," he said quietly after a short moment, mostly to give Lucy time to slightly calm down, though he didn't move his hand. If anything, he just needed to make sure she'd stay quiet and listen. "And you did a really good job of doing so, but whatever it is that happened that has you like this… you don't have to deal with it by yourself. That's what the guild is for, remember?"

After a long moment where she just stared through the slats in Bickslow's visor to the darkness beneath it, she nodded. She really had always known that she'd been making it worse for herself by not talking about it, but Lucy had truly believed no one cared enough to listen. She'd been worried about what people would think of her if she had to talk about it all with someone, just because of what her father had told her all those years ago. She'd never once forgotten his words.

But Bickslow was right: that's what the guild was for. Fairy Tail was a family to those who didn't have their own. It was a home for those without one, and when someone was in trouble or anything, there was always someone else to help them with whatever it was they needed help with.

"I meant what I said earlier," Bickslow continued. "If you decide you want to talk, I'll listen. Or, you can tell someone else. Someone will always be there listen." He had to at least remind her that there were other people she could talk to, even though he knew he wouldn't even come close to being one of the people he would willingly talk to about whatever it was she was going through.

But he did think it would be nice to be that person. He really did want to be the one to help her with her problems, no matter how big or small they were, even though he didn't know if it was possible. If it came down to it, though, he'd try his hardest to help Lucy. If anything, just to be able to see her smile again and actually mean it.

And as they both just stood there, Lucy couldn't help but think of what the actual reason for Bickslow caring was. She knew he wasn't going to tell her what it was – not yet, anyway – but she could wonder, and she could wonder about why Bickslow was so set on her not dealing with it on her own for any longer.

But she could wonder all she wanted, because she suddenly realised she couldn't deal with it on her own any longer. She needed to tell someone about it, because if anything, she was scared of how much worse things could get. She didn't want to know what it would be like to actually hit rock-bottom, where she felt like things would never get better at all and she was to live a life full of misery and loneliness, even in her last days. She knew things were bad, and she'd made them that bad for herself by bottling it all up and keeping it from everyone, but she also knew she was spiralling towards her fear at an incredible rate.

As she stood there, Lucy suddenly wasn't afraid to admit that she needed help. She needed someone to keep her from reaching her absolute worst, because as bad as it was, she wasn't at her outright worst. She needed someone to talk to, to let it all out and hope that it would help her move on from it, but Lucy didn't know who to talk to. It wasn't a matter of no one being there for her due to a lack of empathy and sympathy, because thanks to Bickslow, she knew it was silly to think like that. If her team had known, they'd be supporting her and trying their best to help her get over losing Aquarius, because they were her best friends and they'd become her family. But Lucy had made a point of keeping her friends in the dark, so she really did have no one else to blame but herself for the way things had turned out.

But for Lucy, it was almost as if she didn't want to talk to her team about it. She didn't want to talk to Levy, or even Mira or Cana for that matter. The longer she stood there – even though it was only a few drawn out seconds, it felt like an eternity – the more Lucy realised that she knew exactly who to talk to. It wasn't her team, her friends, or her family. No, it was actually Bickslow.

Lucy didn't entirely know why she thought Bickslow would be the right one to talk to about everything, but she couldn't help but really want to. Bickslow had offered to listen – to be the one that she talk to – so why wouldn't it be a good idea? Right then, Lucy just couldn't think of a reason.

So lifting her own hands to push Bickslow's away from where it had remained over her mouth, Lucy silently looked up to the depths beneath the metal visor, and as almost a whisper, she asked, "Will you listen… now?"

Because at 3AM, Lucy wanted to do nothing else but talk about her feelings, and with Bickslow of all people.

But the time didn't matter to Bickslow at all. All that mattered was that Lucy wanted to talk – hopefully about what it was that had made her so miserable in the first place – and she wanted to talk to him. With the corners of his mouth pulling up into the slightest of smiles, he quietly said, "Gladly."

As Lucy nodded, the barest of sighs of relief escaping, Bickslow turned around and crossed the room to take a seat on the corner of the lounge with one leg tucked under himself as he brought his other knee up. "Come, sit," he said while patting the spot just next to him.

Once Lucy had taken a seat near the other corner of the lounge, she remained silent for a few moments as she stared down to her folded hands in her lap. Bickslow didn't mind the silence, because he got the feeling that whatever it was she needed to say was going to be difficult to talk about it. From all of her rambling, he knew that no one else in the entire world knew, apart from her, but he was going to know what it was. And even though he'd never once been able to stop worrying about what it was that had made her so miserable, he'd come to realise that he was glad she was willing to talk about it with him. There were so many other people that would make better conversation partners than him – who'd probably be able to actually help her a whole lot more than he could, too – but she wasn't telling anyone else. She was sitting on his lounge in his apartment at three o'clock in the morning, and she was talking to him.

When she took a steadying breath, Bickslow looked up and to the blonde. "Have you ever lost someone, Bickslow?" she asked quietly, still looking at her hands in her lap.

"Yes," he replied. It wasn't an answer he had to think about, not when the reason he was the way he was that day was because he'd lost too many people in his life.

"So you know what it feels like?" she whispered, nodding thoughtfully to herself. "You know that it feels like you're completely alone in the world, and that you almost feel as if your life is missing something, and that you can't help but think it can never get any better?"

"Yes."

Lucy nodded again. She needed to know that Bickslow would understand how she felt – at least a little bit, anyway. She didn't expect anyone to ever know how she truly felt then. "Have you ever felt…" she paused to close her eyes when she could feel them begin to sting, just from the thought of actually admitting how she really felt – to herself, as well as Bickslow. She wasn't going to cry. Not there. "Broken?" she whispered. It was a long shot, because she honestly didn't believe anyone she knew to have ever felt like she did then. She still had to ask though.

And that time, Bickslow couldn't answer straight away. It wasn't as if he hadn't, because the truth was that he had felt just a little bit broken before, like he almost always did. But that's what his walls were for, and right then, he didn't know if he could answer that question without taking those same walls down just a little bit.

He didn't want to lie though, so he'd just have to find a way take his walls down just enough to let Lucy know that so far, he understood how she felt. "Yes," he said quietly.

Lucy nodded again then as she took a moment to try and regain her composure again. She was both glad and disappointed that Bickslow had felt like she did, even if it was just a taste of it. She was glad that he'd be able to understand, and disappointed that he'd felt as bad as she did then. I suppose everyone has their secrets, she thought.

So taking a shaky breath, she opened her eyes to look down at her hands as she laced her fingers together in her lap. She'd never once told anyone how she'd felt – even as a child – but she was telling Bickslow. It was taking a lot of courage to even be sitting there and not run out the door, muttering about how it was all a mistake and that she was really fine, but she knew that that wasn't the right thing to do.

Talking was the right thing to do. It had to be.

"Well, that's how I felt after my mother died," she said quietly. "I felt… broken, even as a child. I felt as if my world had almost ended right there, because I didn't think it would ever get better."

Bickslow remained silent as Lucy paused again, only lifting her hands from her lap to dry her eyes.

"But it did get better," she continued just as quietly with another shaky breath. "I was able to move past her dying, and the hole in my heart from her leaving got smaller, and I was eventually happy again. With my father, it wasn't that bad. It didn't hurt as much to find out that he'd passed away while we were frozen on Tenrou Island, but that was only because I never really had the best relationship with him. I still miss him, just like I miss my mother, but… it just wasn't as bad with him."

He got up from the lounge then to go over to the kitchen counter where a box of tissues sat, and quietly crouched down on the floor in front of Lucy as he held the box out in front of him. "This isn't about your parents, is it?" he asked softly, already knowing full well that it wasn't. Bickslow could tell that it was about something else, but she was starting with her parents as a way of… comparing, maybe?

He didn't know, but he wanted to.

When Lucy shook her head, sniffling as she wiped the tears from under her eyes, Bickslow frowned again. "Lucy, what happened?"

There was another moment of silence as Lucy tried to calm herself down, not willing to try and talk as she cried even though she knew she'd end up as a sobbing mess shortly, whether she wanted to or not.

Taking a deep breath as she stared down at the crumpled up piece of tissue in her hand, she continued with her story. "I lost one of my spirits," she whispered. Lucy reached into the pocket of her cardigan then to pull out Aquarius' broken key, and after turning it once in her hand, she offered it to Bickslow. "It was a couple of months ago," she paused again to grab another tissue. "I was, um… I was trying to fight one of the members of Tartaros, but… he was just… he was too strong, and I didn't have any other choice…"

Bickslow twisted the broken key in his hands as Lucy spoke. Even though the golden metal had lost most of its shine and it was really only the handle, Bickslow could recognise it as being one of the zodiac spirits. More specifically, he could recognise the symbol on the white stone that was inlaid in the bow as being the one to symbolise Aquarius.

"I-I um… I had no c-choice but to break Aq-Aquarius' k-key…" Lucy stammered. "I had to c-choose between helping t-the guild and k-keeping Aquarius, a-and I… I-I chose t-the guild… and m-my friends…"

As Lucy began to cry, her sobs filling the silence as she ducked her head even more, Bickslow wondered just what he could do in that moment. He hated seeing her cry, and as much as he wanted to just hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, he didn't think he could. He didn't know if that's what she needed, or maybe even wanted, and he didn't know if it would be too weird.

Oh, fuck it. She's sitting in my living room bawling her eyes out. How much weirder can it get?

So with what he wanted to do getting the better of him, he rose from the ground to sit down on the lounge next to her, and gently pulled her in against his side with his arms wrapping around her. Bickslow didn't know whether it was the worst part or the best part (if there even was a best part about all of it), but Lucy didn't even react to him hugging her in the way that he'd expected – no flinching or tensing or anything. She just… let him.

But even though Bickslow still didn't know whether it was something she'd needed him to do or wanted him to do, or something else entirely, he had to remind himself that it was for her, not for him. Because as terrible as the circumstances were, just being able to hold her in his arms – one of the simplest forms of comforting someone – was nice. Bickslow had to remind himself that it was only because it was what she needed, or wanted, or something else entirely.

"It's okay," he murmured, closing his own eyes under his visor and trying to force himself to hate the feeling of her in his arms, as difficult as it was.

"It-it's not okay," she sobbed from where she had her head resting on Bickslow's chest. She was too far gone to really care about anything anymore. "I-I know s-she's just a s-spirit, but I l-love her and I m-miss h-her, even though I k-know she's n-not really g-gone. I just… I-I just w-wish I d-didn't f-feel this w-way. It's just s-so… so s-stupid."

"It's not stupid."

"Y-yes it is," she stumbled. Lucy didn't see how it could be anything other than stupid – she was grieving over an immortal spirit who claimed to hate her guts, and she just didn't know how to get over it. She felt broken because of something she'd lost, but wasn't truly gone.

Just how was that not stupid?

Bickslow, though - he didn't see it as stupid in any way, shape, or form. He actually understood how she felt, just a little bit, and he needed Lucy to know that. He needed her to see that she was allowed to feel that way, because even though he didn't know everything, he knew enough about her and how much she cared about her spirits to know that losing one of them would have been incredibly difficult for her to deal with.

The only problem was that Bickslow was going to have to take down his walls just that little bit more to show her that he understood how she felt, and that she was allowed to feel the way she did.

As much as he didn't want to do that, because he was perpetually scared of letting Lucy of all people see just how broken he was beneath everything, it had to be done.

"It's really not stupid at all," he said softly, a hand gently rubbing up and down an arm as she continued to sob. "I mean, I'm not going to say that I completely know how you feel, because I don't. But I do know that you're allowed to feel this way. There's nothing stupid about grieving, Lucy." Because that's what she was doing: she was grieving, and she had every right to be as miserable as she was. Of course, Bickslow hated that she was, but he still wasn't done.

"Look," he said with a heavy sigh. "I know that spirits are completely different to souls, but, if I ever lost any of the babies, I'd still feel like you do now." And at the mention of them, the five dolls came floating from down the hall and came to hover just in front of Bickslow and Lucy, much to Bickslow's displeasure. "Oi, I was talking about you, not to you," he muttered.

At the sudden change in tone, Lucy turned her head ever so slightly, and when she saw the dolls floating just in front of her, all bobbing up and down in the air in silence (granted, she didn't know much about Bickslow's babies, but she knew they were rarely silent), she couldn't help but let out a strangled laugh as she raised a hand to her eyes again.

And the sound was enough to make Bickslow smile for the briefest of seconds, and then again when Lucy lifted a hand and one of the babies gently lowered itself to sit on her outstretched palm, slowly bringing it in closer to herself to study it curiously, apparently, as the other four silently zoomed around their heads.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I'd feel just as terrible if I lost one of them," he said quietly, returning his focus to helping Lucy, rather than thinking how strange it was that she seemed to have been instantly intrigued by the soul. "Most people forget that the babies are actually souls, you know? It's not like people know much about them at all, because I guess I keep it that way, but they're souls. They're not just… floating dolls; they were people once, and even though the majority of their unique personalities and traits are gone, there's still parts of them that remain."

"I knew all t-that already," Lucy whispered, the tip of a finger tracing over the edge of one of the wings on the side of the doll. It wasn't like she'd actively gone out to research Bickslow's magic, because she hadn't. It was just that in all the time she'd been in the guild, she'd seen how they acted, and she knew that they all did have distinct personalities.

Just from seeing their antics in and around the guild, she knew that three of the five were a lot louder than the other two. They tended the repeat Bickslow's words more often, whereas the other two, were more… reserved, and on the odd occasion, she'd actually seen Bickslow have conversations with them, if you could even call them that.

Lucy had never paid special attention to them, but she had been curious. She'd always been curious, because in a strange way, they'd always reminded her of her spirits, even though she really didn't know that much about them. They were immortal beings, but she felt like they all held the ability to make connections with people – with Bickslow, really. They were never just floating dolls to her.

And it was all just from observing every now and then in the guild when she'd had nothing better to do, and Bickslow had been making a fool of himself and drawing attention.

But Bickslow didn't know any of that, and he was left stunned for a moment as he tried to comprehend what was going on. No one knew anything about the lost souls he controlled – not even his team, really. They only knew what he'd told them, and he hadn't told them that much.

"Right, well," he continued. "Not many people understand that they're not just things that are controlled. They can… form bonds, I guess. They're not mindless. They're temperamental, but they really are more than just lost souls. I know I don't exactly seem like I do, but I do love them. Even though they're not human or even close to being so, they're such a huge part of my life, and who I actually am, that I would never be able to be okay with ever losing them."

"Not! Temperamental!" the one in Lucy's hand chirped, bouncing around slightly and causing her to let out another strangled laugh.

"Shut up, you are," Bickslow chuckled slightly. "Look, the point I'm trying to make is that you really are allowed to feel this way," he said quietly after a short moment. "It doesn't matter that Aquarius is a spirit, because everyone knows how much you love all of your spirits. They're a lot more like people than souls are, but I'm saying that it would still hurt like hell losing one, and it's because you love them. You're allowed to grieve, Lucy, whether she's immortal or not. There's nothing stupid about it."

Lucy sighed as the doll in her hand flew off to zoom around with the others, and she reached for another tissue as she sniffled. "Whether you're r-right or not," she whispered, drying her eyes again. "I still w-wish I didn't feel like this. It's supposed to get easier with t-time, not harder…" Though Lucy really did have to admit Bickslow had made sense. She loved her spirits like they were part of her family, and when it came to Aquarius, she really had been part of her family, having grown up with the beloved water bearing spirit.

It was just that she really hated feeling the way she did. She hated that things only got worse with each day and that the light at the end of the tunnel only got further and further away, and the further away it got, the less optimistic she got about ever getting better, and ever being happy again.

"I don't want to offend or upset you any more than you are… but do you think it has something to do with not telling anyone about what happened?"

"P-probably…" Lucy muttered, knowing full well that keeping it all to herself for the last two months had definitely not been helping.

"You know talking about things usually helps," he said softly.

"I know… I just…" she pulled her head away from where it was resting on Bickslow and sat up slightly, her shoulders stooped as she turned the broken key fragment she'd picked up from the table in her hands idly. "I just didn't want to tell anyone, because I couldn't help but – and I still can't, I guess – feel like no one cares. It's just… it's just how I grew up. I got used to trying to deal with everything on my own, and I thought it would be the same for this."

Bickslow moved to kneel in front of the lounge again. "Hey, there's always going to be someone who cares. Even if it's just one person, someone will always care," Of course, with Lucy's case, it wasn't entirely right, because she had made it so no one cared. If no one knew she was hurting, then no one would have reason to suspect anything was wrong and have cause to care, right? "And it's okay to ask for help sometimes. I totally get the entire wanting to deal with everything on your own thing, but take it from someone who's tried and tested that method multiple times, it doesn't work. At all. Things just get harder to deal with." And Bickslow really did know that all too well.

"I can't help feeling that way, Bickslow. I know that… I know that you care, and I don't know why you do—"

"It doesn't matter why I do," he interjected before she could even ask why again.

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "But still, it's just what I got brought up with. I got brought up to think that there was always someone dealing with something far worse than what I was, and I… I was worried that people would hate me if I… needed them, I guess." A strange feeling washed over Lucy then. It was almost reminiscent of relief, but there was something else to it. All she knew then was that it had something to do with actually admitting she needed help, and as hard as it was to accept that, she knew she did. She was finally seeing just how much she needed that, and in a way, she was thankful that she was able to see that.

"Come on, no one would hate you. That's ridiculous. You are quite literally impossible to hate."

"I'm sure there's plenty of people out there who would hate me for it," she muttered.

"Guarantee you that there isn't," Bickslow insisted. "Besides, even if it really were possible for someone to hate you for, god forbid it, actually needing help," he feigned shock, though he couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "Right now, you're dealing with something far worse than I am, and I certainly don't hate you."

"Gee, thanks."

Bickslow chuckled at her small smile. "I mean it though," he said quietly. "No one would ever hate you for needing help. Don't ever think that again."

Lucy looked up slightly and nodded, knowing deep down, that Bickslow was right. It was almost as if the longer she sat there and listened to Bickslow, the more she realised just how wrong and stupid everything had been. She was wholeheartedly thankful for that, too, because without Bickslow, she wouldn't have seen just how much she really had needed someone – as hard as it was to admit that – and she wouldn't have felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. And, as much as Lucy had wanted to avoid having to share her burden, she was glad that it wasn't just hers alone anymore. Of course, it was still entirely her pain, and in essence, it really was her burden and hers alone, but just telling someone about all of it had made it just that little bit better.

Already, even just after a short conversation, Lucy could see that the light at the end of the tunnel where things were all okay, and she was maybe happy once again, had gotten just that little bit closer. She could already sense that opening up to someone was already helping, and it was all because Bickslow had come to her door only a few hours earlier.

"Can I ask you something?" Bickslow asked quietly.

"Of course."

"When your… when your mother died," he paused just enough to lick his lips that were suddenly feeling very dry. "You said you felt broken. Is that… is that really how you feel now too?"

After a moment of silence, Lucy finally nodded while she continued to twist the broken key around in her hands slowly. "I guess…" she whispered. "It's… it's silly. It probably doesn't even make sense." Because honestly, was it even possible to be broken? It didn't matter if that was how she felt, because she didn't know if it was possible. And at that point, she'd completely forgotten that Bickslow had even said he knew just how she felt at that moment.

"Damn it, Lucy," Bickslow said suddenly, the sudden outburst causing Lucy to finally look up. Taking a breath to calm himself some, he looked down briefly before standing up quickly, only to take a seat on his coffee table as he slid everything to the opposite side of it, and with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands loosely clasped together, he looked to the confused girl in front of him. "You've gotta stop saying everything is silly and stupid, because I really don't think I can stress enough that it isn't. You're perfectly justified to feel however the fuck you want, and if you wanna say you're broken? Then be broken. No one is going to doubt how you feel, and if anyone thinks they have the right to question it, they can go to Edolas or something and stay there. I just want to help you, and when you just go and say that everything is stupid, it irritates me more than I care to admit."

And as Lucy just continued to stare at him, only blinking in confusion, Bickslow realised that he'd probably said just a little bit too much. But, it really had irritated him. It was like Lucy was only taking one step forward in regards to opening up and finally accepting things, only to take two steps back, doubting herself and making herself believe that it was all ridiculous. Bickslow hated seeing that. It was like a vicious circle – watching Lucy ever so slowly get better right before his very eyes, only to sink even further into that dark pit of despair, and over and over again.

He was trying his best to stop that rotation. Fuck that pit of despair; he only wanted to see Lucy get better.

But before she could even respond to little outburst, whether to argue it or question anything he'd said, Bickslow decided he needed to say one more thing. It was one more thing that maybe, just maybe, would show her that he cared, and he really did want to help her.

"Look," he began. "I get that you feel broken right now, and I understand that feeling more than you know, but that's okay. You know why that's okay? Because everything that is broken can be fixed. You just have to go about it the right way, and eventually things go back to the way they were – or close to them, actually. I want to help you, because I hate seeing you like this. Please, Lucy, tell me how I can help you; tell me how I can fix you."

But even though she still wasn't quite sure if it was even possible to be broken – hell, body and soul, if it could be – Lucy felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she ducked her head again. Bickslow was right, and so far, he'd been right all along. It didn't matter what was possible or impossible, or what other people thought, because it was about what she felt. It was all about her, and in that moment, and much like she had as a child, she truly did feel broken.

Like the key that was in her hand, she was broken. Everything had just been too much… and she'd just… broken. Shattered into a million pieces, even, because of how fragile she apparently was.

And as that thought ran through her mind, she realised just how terrifying it truly was. She'd never once thought of herself as being fragile, but losing Aquarius had felt like it was the last straw. Maybe she'd just lost too many people she loved, and her heart – her soul, her body – couldn't take it anymore. But maybe it had been there all along. Maybe that's who Lucy had truly been all along, and it was just her upbringing that had hardened her exterior and made her into the person that she'd thought she was – the strong and independent woman who tried her very best to be kind and not rely on anyone for things she knew she could deal with on her own.

Maybe it had all been wrong. Maybe she wasn't that person after all, and maybe losing Aquarius had just destroyed that outer shell, and the fragile girl who felt alone in the world was all that was left.

Lucy truly didn't know if that was the case, and it terrified her.

But regardless of all that, the fact remained that Lucy was the broken girl with the broken key, and she needed to be fixed. Whether by Bickslow, or someone else, having reached the point where she knew that there was no way in hell she'd be able to do anything on her own, she had to be fixed. She had to be pieced back together so she could become the person that she'd thought she was, because that was the self that she'd loved.

The longer she stared down at the key, the more she began to worry whether she could be fixed. She was so scared of what would happen if things did end up getting worse. She had but a glimmer of hope that she'd see some form of happiness again, and granted, Bickslow had made that glimmer just a little bit brighter, but still, what if that hope completely disappeared? Lucy honestly didn't think she'd cope if things got worse, given that she was barely coping with things as it was.

It was only when she felt arms around her again, holding her tight and letting her bury her head against the warm fabric of the sweater, did she realise that she'd actually begun to cry again. She was so far past caring at that point that she barely noticed herself drop Aquarius' key to the ground to loosely ball her hands within the fabric of Bickslow's sweater.

"I don't…" she choked out, desperately trying to form a clear sentence with all of the truly terrifying thoughts that ran through her head. "I don't know how."

Because Lucy truly didn't know how Bickslow could fix her. She didn't know how anyone could, for that matter.

Ah, so, another day means another chapter, and so far, I hope you're all enjoying it as much as I enjoyed writing it. These first few chapters were definitely more fun to do.

Anyway. Not much in the way of A/Ns this time around, but as usual (if you've read my other stories, then you'll know where I'm going with this), thank you for reading and reviewing!

I shall see you all tomorrow for the next chapter. :)

- April