It wasn't often that Jellal found Laxus waiting for him on the roof of Saint Fabrizio's. Catching him there was a bit of a phenomenon. He wasn't ever so early for school. His fingers curled around the chain links of the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were white – and, like Jellal, he didn't seem to be deterred from the roof by the pre-storm mist. Desperation made the already thick air almost tangible.
Jellal said nothing as he joined Laxus at the barrier. He shook out a cigarette for himself and another for his friend. Laxus took it and the light. He sucked down a quarter of the thing before finally relaxing his shoulders.
"I fucking hate my dad," he said, the precipitation in the air coating his face.
"It's the way of our people." Jellal meant for it to be a joke but the levity got lost on the trip from his brain to his mouth.
"He's kicking up shit with the Dragon Slayers."
"Why am I not surprised." Jellal snorted. "No wonder Erik's been testy lately."
"He hasn't changed at all." Laxus glanced down at his wasted cigarette. "And I guess neither have I. The old man is dead and I'm still stuck in the goddamn middle."
Jellal didn't see him toss the cigarette angrily through the links, but he watched the flecks of live ash darken in the mist.
"He doesn't know about your affiliation yet?"
"Affiliation is a loose word for a big fucking tattoo on my back. I've got nothing between him and me anymore. I don't care about the drugs or even the hotel." Jellal glanced over at Laxus but said nothing. "I just want to exist without tiptoeing around."
"So you joined the Dragon Slayers to help yourself simply exist?" Laxus irritated him sometimes. He contradicted himself without even noticing he'd done it – a thing Jellal was reluctantly familiar with. "Look, man, you're going to have to do something."
"Like you did?" Laxus spat. "Should I start sneaking shit? Should I start seducing death because I'm pissed off about my dad's Faustian fantasy? Or maybe I should tell him that it's your family beefing up the Dragon Slayers. I'm sure he'd love that."
"Do you need a snack or something?" Jellal lit a second cigarette and blew the smoke to the side where it would waft in front of Laxus's face. "You're being an asshole."
"I've been telling you for years. You should start listening."
"It's my dream to one day witness some chill from you."
Laxus's expression was deadpan. "Dreams are the children of an idle brain."
"Mercutio died, dumbass. You'll jinx yourself."
"Pretty sure I did that the moment I took off my shirt and let Igneel's guy put a dragon on my back." Laxus stalked away and jerked open the metal door. He let the wind clang it shut, and Jellal was left alone.
The low light of the warehouse revealed rows upon rows of stacked barrels. Jellal's eyebrows twitched. He'd expected wine and flavored liqueur bottles – not whiskey barrels. This was new. Each was stamped with dates, grain information, and wood type. Jellal ran his fingers over the edges with heavily muted interest. He knew Acnologia was grooming him. If he betrayed his intrigue, he'd lose what little freedom he had left. When they reached the end of the first row, Jellal saw a logo burned into the side of the last barrel. The letters curled and twisted around each other as they spelled out Heartfilia-Fernandes: Single Barrel. His curiosity bubbled over.
"What is all this?" he asked, touching the scorched curve of wood.
"How we will survive, hijo mio." Acnologia laughed softly and his gaze fell to his shoes. "And it is a show of good faith toward your mother."
Jellal scowled. "I don't understand."
"You will." He jerked his chin over his shoulder and spun on his heel. "Come." Acnologia led him through rows of actual bottles. Some were tall and tilted slightly so as not to dry the corks, but others were smaller and rounded. The labels were all printed in Spanish. Jellal resented how much he struggled with the words.
Acnologia stopped in front of a door painted just as black as the walls. He produced a key and slid it into the lock. When Jellal stepped across the threshold, he jammed his hands into his pockets and dug his short fingernails as far into his palms as they would go.
Hundreds of little bags littered the tops of the tables as a handful of men with various points of dragon tattoos poking out from the edges of their clothing, lined them neatly into smaller – more concealable – boxes. Jellal's eyes caught one such pile of bags. The stamps weren't identical. Some were green and resembled a more typical dragon, but others had the symbol he recognized immediately as his father's. The ouroboros dragon Acnologia favored had once been a staple of Jellal's many hidden shoeboxes. The arm Ultear had grabbed earlier that week finally began to sting.
"What's going on?" he said in a more clipped tone than he'd intended.
"This," Acnologia replied in his most dangerous whisper, "is our conejo blanco." Jellal froze when his father leaned over his shoulder and spoke in his ear. "Your mother wants a return to legitimacy. We can't have that without more stability." Acnologia stepped around him and his voice fell even lower. "Ivan Dreyar is a fool. He wants what is not for sale. He does not even know who owns the property he seeks. In the end, se inclinará ante mí."
Jellal's heart raced. His arm throbbed. He had to get out.
The riverbank was not a quiet place, but the rushing water and wind carried his tension all the way down to the bay, and calmed his mind. Jellal's palms still sweated as he drew air in through his nose and pushed it out of his mouth. His phone vibrated in his pocket and wouldn't stop. He shouldn't have texted Ultear. He should've just gone to bed. Fuck! He felt like he was falling apart.
On a whim, Jellal threw his phone into the glove compartment and left the car behind. The looming storm still hadn't opened up, but mist lingered in the air. He half expected his shoes to sink into mud when he edged past the upper lip of the flood wall that lined the riverbank.
Jellal leaned against the side of the wall that faced the lowest stretch of river and wished he'd remembered the cigarettes instead of leaving them in the glove compartment with his phone – and Ultear.
"You look like shit," a voice he recognized immediately said from the ground beside him. Jellal's eyes slid open and he saw red. Erza gazed up at him with a blank expression.
"I didn't see you," he muttered and turned to go. "Sorry."
"Didn't anyone ever tell you?" she asked, pinning him in place far too easily with her voice. "You can't run from a demon with its claws in your back. Every time you turn around, it'll be there."
"You don't know me," he bit out. She smiled, and he felt a stab of guilt when it was one of sad understanding.
"I believe that was my line the last time we spoke."
"I'm sorry for snapping at you." Jellal ran his hands over his face.
"Don't be. I just know that look. Men who wear it, never wear it for long." Jellal heard her shift in the grass and felt when she stood. Erza breezed past him and he couldn't stop himself from filling his lungs with her scent of freesia as she went – it was delicious and so much better than literally anything else. "Try not to destroy yourself," she whispered. "Lucy doesn't need more death in her life."
"What do you know about Lucy?" he found himself asking.
"I know she's the only friend I have at school. Don't break her because you want to break yourself," she warned. "Excuse me, I have somewhere to be." Erza disappeared around the corner. He stood in the exact same position, breathing in every last bit of her freesia body spray.
"You're scaring me, Jellal," Ultear said harshly as she fell into step beside him the next morning. "Why did you text me and then disappear?"
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm fine."
"I told you not to fucking lie to me." She edged in front of him and narrowed her eyes. "You look like shit."
"That seems to be the consensus," he said dryly and tried to shove past her. Ultear was relentless. She grabbed his arm but with less force than the last time.
"It takes a lot to freak me out, Jellal, but you are freaking me out." She glanced around and spoke again in a quieter tone. "I can't help you if you aren't honest with me."
Jellal glanced over at a crowd of giggling first year girls as they swarmed past. He tried to smile but could only manage a pathetic grimace. "I'm sorry, okay? I had a moment last night but I'm fine."
Ultear's eyes searched him in a way he hated – needed. "Don't do that again. I can take you at your worst, but I can't help you if you're dead."
She left him in the crowded hallway without another word. He could tell he'd upset her deeply, but felt helpless to fix it. Jellal hated secrets and shadows – and he hated himself for being drawn to them. Ultear knew where all of his monsters lurked, and shutting her out was dangerous, but her brand of redemption wouldn't clean any of the dirty windows in his mind.
Jellal shook his head and made his way toward the courtyard. His first class of the day was in the hallway he'd just left behind, but his lungs craved fresh air.
He didn't find the peace he wanted. Seated at the only table sheltered from the deluge of rain were Lucy, Natsu, and Erza. Natsu's arm was casually slung around Lucy's shoulders. Jellal did his best to tamp down the impulse to tear it off with his bare hands. There seemed to be a friendly – but heated – discussion happening. He didn't care. His eyes were stuck on the damp strands of slightly curled scarlet that she'd brought over her shoulder. Jellal's fingers knew what they wanted. They wanted to be tangled up in red.
She surprised him by glancing up and meeting his stare. Her lips – pink today, and without lip-gloss – turned up into a grin.
"Whoa! Whoa!" Jellal reached over to grab the steering wheel of his car. "Just take it easy. Turns that sharp aren't for beginners."
"I'm sorry!" Lucy's hands fell into her lap and Jellal's heart almost jumped from his chest.
"The wheel! You can't just –" His hands gripped the wheel tightly from the passenger seat. "Ease off the gas and go slow on the brakes."
Lucy did not go slow on the brakes. The car jerked to a stop and she heaved a deep breath before letting her head fall forward onto the steering wheel. When she sat up straight again, her eyes were leaking tears.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed, trying to dry her face with the collar of her t-shirt. "Maybe driving just isn't for me."
"No, Lucy, it's fine." Jellal controlled his breaths and tried to do the same for his heart rate. "You've been at it for less than an hour. It's way too soon to just give up."
"Are you sure?"
"Let's focus on moving from a stop and then braking. Keep it real slow and you can get a feel for the pedal sensitivity."
Lucy sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from her face. "Right. Slow." She made a circle around the empty parking lot and took about twice as long to bring the car back to a complete stop. Jellal took that as improvement.
"See? You can learn to drive, Lucy. Just be patient with yourself." She smiled brightly, and Jellal felt his mood lift.
"Can I drive us to lunch?"
"Uh –" He laughed nervously and grasped the door handle. "I think it's a little too soon for you to be on the open road." Jellal switched places with Lucy and started the car up again. "Where to?"
"What about that new place over by the river?"
"The sandwich place?" Jellal ran through his mental map of the city. "Yeah, okay." He pulled out of the parking lot grateful to be back behind his own wheel.
The restaurant was busy but not packed. Lucy led him out onto the patio that overlooked the river. She plowed through her fries before touching her sandwich.
"I didn't realize you were so hungry."
"Driving is hard work, Jellal. I am in emotional upheaval."
"I feel like it's me who's in upheaval. Your driving needs some serious work." He grinned around a mouth full of sandwich when Lucy glared at him.
"You did volunteer," she said haughtily. "You can't take it back now."
"Now that I know where we stand, I don't think I'd trust anyone else to handle the job. I'm not going anywhere." Lucy smiled and finished off her sandwich. She propped her chin on the heel of her hand and gazed out over the river.
"I think it's going to rain again soon," she said with a sigh.
Jellal nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. It had been raining the last time he saw Erza on Friday. Stray droplets stuck to her hair and she'd smiled at him. Despite his own good sense and Ultear's warning, he wondered how many backflips and through what kinds of hoops he'd have to jump through to find her alone again.
