A/N: Typos! Typos everywhere! This is the raw file I typed away for good long 2 hours. I just let my brain do the honors of writing this down. The rating might change as of next chapter.
In A Heartbeat
—because if he could, he would. And he'd do it in a heartbeat. AU
Broken Rhapsody
Jellal. Jellal Fernandes.
Even though the room was filled with women perfectly stationed and entitled to their works, Erza couldn't seem to focus with the task at hand. After her failed attempt of escape and the digging incident, she was relieved of her restroom duties—punished by the so-called major of the Schutzstaffel—and was assigned to the sewing section. This was where the prisoners of war were forced to make decent uniforms and other necessary clothing to support and supply the German army.
The wounded redhead was having a hard time working with the field gray cloth because every time she tried to sew the material, the image of a familiar face would spring forth from her vision—his ultramarine locks that framed his aristocratic face, the sharp and steely gaze of his olive green eyes, the smoothness and richness of his voice, the ecstatic red tattoo on his cheek—
Erza frowned.
Since when did I start paying attention to small details?
She felt odd...and somewhat confused at the foreign feeling. It was a totally different territory that she willingly let herself in and somehow, she didn't blame herself for crossing beyond the line.
Erza proved that he deserved her respect and gratitude. She knew he cared, but she also knew it was out of compassion. He was kind, but she hadn't mistaken it for love. The thread that separated the extreme emotions was still there, no matter how thin it was.
Their relationship was built purely on trust and mere impulse. It wouldn't pass the borders of friendship, but rather the crossroads of acquaintance. She also wouldn't mind if it reached past the level of mutual affection. It was a long path she would freely risk especially if somehow, Jellal would gladly help her survive inside the walls of Monowitz.
She accidentally punctured her finger with the needle that kept on fumbling within her grasp due to the numerous injuries that decorated both her arms. A bead of red liquid stained the field gray uniform that she was sewing and a murderous aura approached her as soon as the blood seeped into the rough and dull material.
From the back of her mind, she had hoped that somehow, the moment she turned her head, she would meet his hypnotizing sea green eyes, hoped that somehow, when she met his crooked smirk, she would smile back at him and apologize for a mundane and inexcusable mistake.
"Hey now," it wasn't the cool and composed voice of the ultramarine that she heard but instead it was a sinister and malicious voice, dripping with every intent to kill. The rest of the female sewers stopped as they all cowered in fear. "You soiled our uniform with your filthy blood." The slight cackle in his voice told the redhead that this was not the same officer who had spared her life and saved her twice.
She drowned inside the man's pools of horrifying crimson eyes, the moment she decided to face him. The evil grin plastered on his pale face reeked with every desire to slaughter and hack and slash. Soon enough, Erza found herself choking in his sharp and spiky blond hair. The German soldier brought the barrel of his revolver to rest upon her forehead as he released the safety, the clicking sound proving his point.
"Any last words?" Erza hated it. She hated the foul and morbid language that came out of his vile mouth that sliced its way to her auditory nerves. The redhead then remembered the advice of the tattooed man before he left.
Erza, I need you to be at your best behavior.
She gritted her teeth.
No.
If she was going to die at this point, she wasn't planning on losing even a shred of her dignity and pride. Erza glared at him with fiery bronze orbs and chose her final words perfectly.
"Hau ab arschloch."
A shark grin spread across the German's face as he laughed maniacally, amused and annoyed at her at the same time.
"You've got guts hündin." the unfamiliar soldier showed her his infamous grin before turning deadly serious.
He pulled the trigger.
Jellal yawned.
The ultramarine was apparently bored with the mountains of papers and redundant reports on his camp, but what he couldn't shake off was the feeling of restlessness. The blue-haired soldier was keeping a calm and cool façade, making sure that the anxiety he felt was kept under all circumstances.
He reached for a bottle of wine as he was given a full thirty minute break by the Lieutenant Colonel.
Jellal popped it open, pouring a generous amount of thick red liquid into his wine glass.
"Red...scarlet...like her hair."
He took in a quick sip.
Jellal Fernandes was a man known to have a few amount of errors and the reason why his hand slipped off the fragile and slim stem of the glass, the reason why a puddle of deep dark red stained the carpet, the reason why the wine glass shattered to pieces and the reason why he was staring at the now broken stemware was because he had sensed something wrong.
A bad omen.
An intuition about the first thing that came to his mind.
"Erza..."
And as far as he's concerned, his intuition was always right.
She gripped her shoulder as she desperately tried to keep the blood from gushing out. All the while, Erza felt all eyes on her, both a mixture of guilty looks and horrified glances. She tried reaching out for the field gray cloth and attempted to wrap it around her fresh wound but the blond officer kicked her hard on the gut right before she could initiate first aid.
"Oi, you whore, get up!" the guard grabbed a fistful of her scarlet hair and pulled with a force that had her screaming as she felt the strands detaching from the roots of her head.
"Outside! NOW! The rest of you get back to work!" Erza could only grunt in pain as she felt herself being dragged by the ruthless and sadistic officer. The rest of the workers all shrunk back to their stations as they tried to ignore the horrible act in front of their eyes.
The icy wind hit her like a tidal wave and she shivered violently when she was shoved out of the snowy fields yet again.
"Strip now." he ordered as another bullet plunged into the same spot where she was hit earlier. Erza screeched in a futile attempt to keep herself conscious both from the freezing temperature and the blood that she was losing.
Instead of obeying, Erza snarled at the soldier and spat on his boot.
"I'd rather die." the nobility and opposition in her voice almost made the officer hurl in disgust as he sent her flying with another brutal kick to the stomach. He called out to a couple of soldiers who were guarding the vicinity and ordered for her to be strapped to one of the poles.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, prisoner..." he roughly grabbed her left hand as he searched for the numbers etched on her forearm. "19526. I am the commanding officer of Birkneau and the substitute officer of this camp, Major Zancrow of the Schutzstaffel."
He watched through amused crimson eyes at how she tried to break free of the cold chains that bound her to the pole. Frozen and icy metal breaking and numbing her skin at the sudden contact.
"Freeze to death hündin."
At long last, Jellal was back to the labor camp after the trip to Auschwitz. He gazed at the heavy snow falling from the sky. They were indeed pretty, like diamond dust pouring down from above. But they were also deadly like assassins in the stillness of the night, slowly draining life out of anyone without exception. Jellal pulled his coat closer to himself as he trod on the thick puddle of ice, working his way with his black combat boots.
He stopped halfway through the entrance of Monowitz when he saw a familiar shade of color in the distance.
Scarlet.
The fiery hue was quickly being engulfed and enveloped by the cold and bitter snowstorm.
The last of its remaining spark losing and dying out to the weather.
Just like he said, no exceptions.
If he was a second later, he could have sworn her body would be delivered to the morgue and then to the crematorium. Jellal had one hell of a shock when he saw her bleeding and freezing to death, clothed with nothing but thin and tattered garments. He immediately brought her to his barracks without thinking or even considering the consequences. But this matter was far worse than the 'what if's' and the 'what could have been's'.
Fuck! One day. ONE FUCKING DAY and this happened!
He knew this was bound to happen. Who could have thought that out of the thousands of prisoners, he'd get to meet her. The chance was like finding a needle in a haystack—one in a million.
"Erza stay with me." he whispered at the barely conscious woman lying on his bed.
Although he had removed the bullet from her flesh, cleaned and dressed the wound, her condition wasn't getting any better. She was shaking like a leaf in the middle of the storm. Jellal checked her fingers and noticed that they had gone a bit gray and yellowish.
He gave one of her nimble appendages a hard pinch and it didn't even elicit a reaction from the redhead.
Superficial frostbite.
Jellal quickly but thoroughly applied warmth to the affected areas—her fingers, toes and even her ears. At first, there was a slight hesitation to remove her soaked clothes but later on, he figured out that he wasn't going to risk the chance of her having to suffer from hypothermia. Any acts of chivalry would only bring her closer to death and he wouldn't allow that. What she needed was relief and first aid, not second thoughts and hesitation.
He lit up dozens of candles spread out like wildfire across the room to make sure that her body temperature doesn't drop off too low or get too hot which may shock her system and end up in worse condition.
The German SS continued wiping her with a towel dipped in warm water until her skin regained its natural rosy color. Jellal was sweating from the heat coming from the flickering flames of the candles, the room feeling more like a brick oven rather than a comfortable and cozy lounge. He didn't mind the heat at all, so long as she could recover. He stripped down, leaving only his militay pants on and settled for the wooden chair as he waited for her to regain consciousness.
Prisoner 19526 shifted slightly under the sheets. She was feeling too hot and bothered for her own liking. That was when she decided to toss the sheets aside. Wondering where she was, the redhead sat up. A stinging sensation delivered the most plausible reason for her current situation and location. The images of the previous onslaught flashed through her mind and she gasped at another wave of pain that shot up through her nerves. The blond, red-eyed officer, the bullets, the snow...
I should be dead.
Ironically, the statement regarding her death was becoming a redundant and disturbing cycle. Every time she wakes up, the painful sensations would always remind her that yes, she was still alive.
She noticed that her injured body parts were dressed with sterile bandages—that she didn't catch a fever from infection. In fact she felt better.
It was only then that she realized that she was naked. She let out a small squeak as she wrapped the blankets around her frame. She scanned the small room intently, searching for any signs of the German bastards and found one. There across the room was a blue-haired man sleeping soundly on the wooden chair, half-naked and sweating profusely.
She looked back at herself and back to him, repeating the action until something registered in mind.
Naked.
Inside a private room.
Her eyes widened and Erza almost went berserk at the thought.
Forcing her weak body to stand up, she grabbed a lit up candle and stealthily made her way towards the slumbering soldier. She was about to incinerate his flesh when he suddenly shoved her backwards, efficiently sending her back to the soft mattress. Erza scrambled to stand up but her actions were stopped as the ultramarine's strong frame pinned her to bed.
"Calm down woman!" he hissed, but it only made her thrash even more.
His sturdy and heavy weight was crushing her and the redhead could feel the wound on her shoulder reopening. She muffled her screams as any noise might only catch the other soldiers' attention.
"Erza!"
She didn't know why but somehow, his low and cool voice made her stop. Hot streams of tears flowed down her face as she finally tried to calm down from her sudden outburst. She couldnt help it though, all the while she thought he was different. That he was worthy of being respected. That he could be trusted.
I was wrong. They're all the same!
He slowly lifted himself off of her and looked at her firmly.
"You...!" she panted hard, taking in his cerulean locks and steel green eyes.
"Ja, now I'm going to let you go and—"
"What did you do to me you filthy—"
"I told you to—"
"GET OFF OF ME!"
Jellal punched her wounded shoulder and she howled in pain.
"Look woman, I was the one who saved you from that freezing wasteland, the one who cleaned and treated your wounds and the one who warmed you up! Show a little gratitude why don't you?"
Erza looked stunned for a moment, getting drowned in both their harsh breathing and heartbeats. When she recovered, the wounded woman frowned at the ultramarine on top of her.
"Warmed me up how exactly?" she gripped the sheets that was the only thin boundary between their heated bodies. She glared accusingly at him and he rolled his eyes out of frustration and disbelief.
"What do you think the candles were for?"
Before she could give another snarky reply, a painful jolt had her curling like a ball. Seeing this, Jellal immediately distanced himself from her as he checked the source of her agony. He was about to lay his hand on her shoulder when she slapped it away.
"Don't." the blue-haired soldier sighed wearily at the stubborn woman in front of him. He walked towards his cabinet and took out another fresh set of bandages. He gave it to her and watched as she poorly managed the sterile cloth.
"Let me." Erza stared at him, carefully evaluating his words. In this case, she was in no condition to make demands or even complain, and whether she liked it or not, she was going to be needing all the help she could get to recover fast. She pulled the covers down her collarbone and bared her neck to him.
The action was so nostalgic that he couldn't help but smirk in amusement.
"What?" another irritated remark left the redhead's mouth and he shook his head.
"Nothing." Jellal worked with excellent speed and pressure as he wrapped her shoulder in a swift and fluid motion. He expertly covered her ample chest from beneath the sheets and was about to finish when she spoke.
"You really didn't?" he exhaled slowly as he secured the bandage from behind.
"I didn't. I promise." Jellal looked at her in the eye to prove his innocence and she averted her gaze, clearly refusing to believe the truth. It was shameful to admit that she thought she trusted him. She mostly did not trust him.
Not one bit.
And for that she loathed herself.
He gave up trying to convince her and focused on a much more important subject. The answer could only be provided by her, and if his hunch was right, he knew it would be difficult to keep her alive from now on.
"Now then, who did this to you?"
A/N: Right. On. Schedule. Phew! Please don't kill me! LOL, well this is longer than the last one so I hope I did a pretty good job. There were only a few who reviewed in the last chapter. WAS IT THAT BAD?! :O LOL. Anyway, hope this one's better! Oh right, this story is done actually. :) Roughly ten chapters.