I do not own anything.
Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

Their Last Hope

6

Irene

Pushing the button to roll the window down, I try not to weep as I realize who's stopped to help us. At least it's not a stranger – not that we know Acnologia any better than one – but it's a familiar face. My hands shake as I brace them against the steering wheel, trying to calm my galloping heart. If I still had those Xanax I used to take when the careful life I'd planned for myself had spiraled out of control, I'd pop one of those things in a fucking nanosecond right now.

"Hey," I fake a bravado I don't have. I'm two seconds away from crumbling into a sobbing ball of mush. Everything inside of me wishes stuff like this doesn't bother me, that I'm able to take care of incidentals like this on my own. The truth is I can't, and I don't know I'll ever be able to. But for the last two years there's been no one for me to lean on or ask for help. The fact he's here right now, means way more to me than it should.

"You okay?" he asks, taking his glasses off his face. His green eyes roam the car, check me out, and then flash to the backseat where Erza sits.

"Scared the crap out of me," I admit, because I still can't stop my hands from shaking and my voice trembling gives me a way.

He leans in putting his hand over mine. "Scared me, too. I was behind you in traffic when I saw you hit the debris. You did a good job keeping it straight."

My gaze moves down to where he's touched me. I absorb the strength in his grasp, letting it wash through me, taking away the shakes. A zip of electricity shoots all the way from my fingers down my arm and to my belly. Whenever my ex-husband would touch me, it was nothing like this. It was cold, calculated, and designed to hold me under his control. This is warm and reassuring. Now I'm breathing deeply for another reason, trying to make my heart regulate.

Turning my attention to the words he spoke, I try not to let my face broadcast the emotions going through me right now. The praise makes me feel better about our situation and I don't want to admit his recognition of my ability to handle emergencies makes me happy. However, I'm still unsure if I want to give anyone the ability to make me happy or sad ever again.

"Thanks," I clear my throat and cut my eyes to where he still has his hand over mine.

"Your hands are so cold," he mumbles, prying my fingers off the wheel and holding them between his two palms.

It's reaction and shock setting in. I know because I've been here before. The minute I got the divorce papers, I'd shivered and been almost as cold as I am right now. Instead of trying to stop his trying to warm me up, I let him continue. It's nice to feel the warm skin of another human being.

"You okay?" he throws a look into the back seat at Erza, for the first time acknowledging her.

"I'm hungry," she complains as she sighs.

Great, just great.

Acnologia

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the chuckle to myself. Right now, I'm not sure Irene can handle it, but damn if Erza isn't a fucking breath of fresh air.

"You are, huh?"

She nods, and it looks like she wants to say more, but she's holding her tongue. Is she quiet because she's been taught not to speak her mind, or is she worried about how her mom will react? Both thoughts run parallel in my head, and I eventually tell her what I'm thinking, because no kid should have to censor themselves – at least not in my presence.

"Mom had errands to run, and we ran out of time," she supplies as I glance back at her.

"Is that right?" I'm holding back another laugh as I take in her mom.

I looked at Irene the day we met, but I'm seeing her in a whole different light now. That day, she was calm, cool, put together, and the epitome of a single mother who had all her shit straight. What I'm seeing now, isn't that persona at all. Tonight, here on the side of the road, I feel like I'm getting the real person. Her cheeks are red. Embarrassment? Anger? Irritation? There's no way to know without asking her.

"Sprite back there gonna get in trouble because she's speaking her mind?" I indicate Erza with a tilt of my head, my gaze directed on Irene.

Her eyes flash with anger and irritation. "Let me out of the car," she pulls the words from between her clenched jaws.

I let my hand slip away from hers, missing the connection as soon as it's severed. Opening the door for her, I usher her around to the side of the car that's not beside the busy intersection.

"How dare you question if my child is going to get in trouble for speaking her mind."

She lays into me, and damned it all if she's not sexy as hell while reading me the riot act.

"I don't know you," I remind her. We've known each other for a total of two days.

"Exactly, you don't know me. So I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that most of the women you spend your time with aren't of the hearth and home variety."

The assumption pisses me off, but I'm willing to give her one. "Your face was red and it looked like you wanted to say something, thought you gonna reprimand her" I explain. I've spent a lot of years reading people's emotions and anticipating what their next moves will be. It's how I stayed alive and escaped a part of my past I don't care to relive.

She lowers her voice and steps closer to me, her eyes losing a bit of their fire. "Of course not! I was…" She sighs. "I-I'm embarrassed. It's going on seven o'clock, her bedtime is eight, and I haven't even gotten her dinner yet. We're stuck on the side of the road, and I can't change a tire to save my life. If you hadn't showed up, the fact is," she blows out a deep breath, "I'm not sure what I would do."

The fight's gone out of her, and with the loss of her anger, mine's gone, too. "I have no doubt you'd YouTube that shit, make it your bitch, and be on your merry way in under two hours."

The surprised look on her face is enough for me and when a giggle pushes past her throat, I feel a reaction in my body I haven't felt in too long. When Irene laughs, it's the sexiest, throatiest sound I've ever heard in my life. "Thanks for having so much faith in me."

"Somebody's got to."

She takes a deep breath and before she can say anything else, I hold my hand out. "Keys please. Do you have a spare?"

"I don't know," she shrugs her shoulders, biting her lip. "I've never had to know before."

I take my jacket off, putting it in the back with Erza. "Keep that safe for me," I wink at her, as I put it over her legs. The temps are dropping and it doesn't look like these two were prepared for it. I stand to my full height and shut the door before turning to the trunk.

"First lesson is know what you have in your car at all times. You need some sort of emergency kit, especially with you two going over the bridge like you do. Thank God this isn't the winter, but it's fast approaching," she's nodding, and I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds.

She helps me clear away all the bags in the trunk.

"Did you buy out the whole craft store?"

"It's for my online business," she explains as she puts them in the backseat, next to Erza. "Don't peek," she tells her daughter. "These aren't for you to play with."

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime. Maybe as small business owners, we could help each other out."

"I thought you were a mechanic," she questions. The tone isn't accusing but there's a level of distrust anyone would be able to hear.

"I own the shop," I lift up the flap in the trunk leading to the wheel well where most spares are and grin. "You have a donut at least."

"Thank God," she breathes.

"We'll save that lesson for tomorrow. C'mon by the shop and I'll put a new tire on for you."

"You don't have to," she argues, shaking her head.

"No, I want to teach you how to do it just in case something like this happens again. Every single woman needs to know the basics, and if someone else didn't teach you, then I'm going to."

She's biting her lip and shuffling her feet. It's obvious what I've said makes her uncomfortable. But if there's one thing I do know about women who are mama bears, it's that you can combat their stubbornness by bringing their kids into the equation. It's probably the only thing I've learned about women, besides how to please them.

"Don't you want to see what kind of a shop I run? I mean, I'm influencing your daughter. I'll be spending a lot of time with her," I remind her, fighting a smile at the way she makes me work for everything.

"Okay," she relents. "I work a short shift tomorrow and I have a three-hour window before I have to go pick her up from school. Will that be long enough to teach me the basics?"

"We'll make it work," I go to work getting the donut put on.

Within the hour, I'm helping her put all her stuff back in the trunk.

"Thank you." She's standing beside of me, her arms tightly around her chest, her teeth lightly chattering. Even shivering her tone is appreciative.

It's not hard for her to say the words, and I appreciate that. Sometimes giving someone thanks is the hardest part, but Irene seems to have that under control. Maybe it's the help she's not used to. It's gotten dark, and I feel a responsibility maybe I shouldn't feel.

"Look, no bullshit," I tell her quietly. "Get in the car and I'll follow you two home. I want to make sure you get there okay. This isn't exactly the best part of town."

Now that the sun's gone down, there are people on street corners, sounds of mischief make their way to us. As I say the words, I flinch when I hear glass break not far from us. I don't feel comfortable sending these two out into the night unprotected.

"I'm going to stop and grab some food, wake her up, and make sure she eats something. If you don't mind getting behind us in the drive thru and letting me pay for your meal, I'd love it if you'd be our escort," she grins.

"Sure thing," I reach into the back seat and grab my jacket from around Erza' legs. She's conked out, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. "I'll follow you," I jog back to my bike and hop on.

Never, in the forty-five minutes it takes us to get to her apartment building, do I let those taillights out of my sight. She waves as she grabs Erza out of her car seat. Erza wraps her hands around her mother's neck and rested her head in her mom's shoulders.

"Mommy, sw-leepy."

"We're almost there, cheesecake." She says as she kisses her daughter's head.

I smiled a warm smile as I watch the mother-daughter moment in their parking lot.

"Need help with all that stuff in there?" I point to the trunk, remembering all the bags she had.

"Thanks, but I'll grab it tomorrow. Enjoy your burger," she grins. "And thanks for helping us tonight."

"No problem," I watch until their upstairs and safely in their apartment before I turn my bike around and head towards the shop.

Never has an evening consisting of changing a tire and a bag of cold fast food made me feel the sense of peace I have right now. Like everything else, I know it probably won't last.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

So I decided to continue the story. My justification is that IRENE NEEDS TO BE TREATED WELL. I HOPE THIS STORY WILL SOMEHOW GIVE JUSTICE TO HER CHARACTER. I KNOW THIS DOESN'T HAVE ANY EFFECT, BUT AT LEAST SHE GETS SOME RESPECT EVEN IN A FANFIC. I STILL HATE ACNOLOGIA FOR STOMPING HER BODY BUT DAMN SHT. I STILL CAN'T HELP BUT SHIP THEM IN THIS STORY. IT WAS STARTED BEFORE THE STOMPING SCENE SO I DIDN'T REALLY KNOW.

Just to share, my ship always sunk. First one was Ichiruki, but we all know that it ended up as Ichihime (that I am still disappointed about). Another is, Shikaino, as my username implies, but we all know it was Shikatema and Inosai, I am okay with it though, because of their cute kids. And here, ACNORENE, though it's a crack ship. And FT semi-canon couples - Jerza, especially.

Anyways, I hope their personality will be incorporated in this story. I'll look for an angle to deliver properly Acno's "sadism" or "anger-management issues", there are some parts in the previous chapters though. Also, Irene's cockiness, but in here, she is still feeling the impact of her divorce, and her focus is being a single mom to support her child, so it isn't visible yet. She truly deeply loves Erza here. Mama bear as she is. And I also want to incorporate Erza's stubbornness, that is difficult as she is still a child here, but she adores her mom as well (that isn't shown by Mashima).

THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!

naes151: yeah, he is a devil's incarnate, and I also thought he was once a good person. I don't want to expect anymore.
Pi pi m: I totally agree, even just respect. Mashima has been treating her female characters like trash sometimes, and fanservice most times. :(
Nyx Necro: It's nice to know someone also writes about Irene. There are too few fanfiction written about her.
Zorkan: Thank you so much!
ErJasandrea13: Yes! Let us still ship them as the king and queen as they are.
inspirepromt3.3: Oh, more TLC they will be getting in the future. I assure you.
freakingmanga181: Thank you. He won't be good sometimes. ;) Kidding.

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