Erza's POV

Son of a... Great, this is just great. It's the middle of the night and the neighbor's kid won't stop crying. This is the second night in a row. At this rate, my time on leave is gonna be more stressful than my time on base.

"Mommy?" A small voice sounded from my doorway.

"Hey, baby. Why are you up?" As if the poor boy could sleep with that racket.

"Mommy, is she hurt? Why is she crying?" Shawn asked, clearly upset by the wails of the child next door.

"No baby, I'm sure the little one is fine." I sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed. My attempt to calm my son seemed to fail so I tried a new tactic. "Wanna go see if we can help?"

Shawn nodded. The three year old stood by my door in his Batman pajamas holding a small bear dressed as Superman to his chest. Iron-man slippers shielded his feet from the cold. His green hair stripped with white was sticking out all over the place and his mismatched eyes, one bright lavender and the other a deep blue, blinked back tears.

"Well, let me grab my slippers and we'll go next door." The child was still screaming. It's been crying for thirty minutes now. Sighing again, I slid on my plain black slippers, my gray and black plaid pajama pants fell over them as I pulled my gray tank top down over my hips, suddenly nervous.

We made our way to the hall of the apartment complex and turned left to the door next to ours. I stared at the silver thirteen that marked the door as the screaming got louder. Before I could change my mind, Shawn reached out his tiny hand and knocked loudly.

We heard a loud crash as someone ran, cursing, to the door. The screaming got even louder as the person neared the door. I took a deep breath and looked down at my son. Tears ran down his face as concern filled his eyes. The door was thrown open to reveal a man.

The man was just barely taller than myself with a lovely shade of shaggy blue hair. A red tattoo fell across his right eye. His eyes were a dark brown gray color and lined with heavy bags from lack of sleep. A small white haired child was tucked into his arms screaming their tiny head off.

"Hello, did Killica wake you?" Sweet strawberry cake, his voice was to die for. The deep vibrations danced through my blood, creating havoc in my heart. "I can't seem to get her to stop crying."

"Here, let me see her," I smiled, holding out my arms.

"I'm not sure," the man said, tightening his hold on his daughter nervously.

I laughed gently and looked down at Shawn, "come on, you can see I have my own kid, I can help."

"Okay, I guess you should come in then, Mrs. -"

"Miss, and you can just call me Erza." I gently took his daughter into one arm and Shawn's hand in the other before entering the man's home. The living room was a disaster of diapers, wipes, and baby clothes. The gray walls bare, the black couch covered in random things. Dishes were everywhere and the shelves were covered in dust. I felt the deep need to clean the apartment from top to bottom. "This is my son, Shawn."

"Jellal, you've already met my daughter Killica." He smiled.

"It's nice to meet you." I turned my attention to the baby girl before me, "have you tried feeding her?"

"Yep."

"Burping?"

"Yes."

"Rocking?"

"Again, yes."

"Changing her?"

"Yep."

"Is she teething?"

"Oh, uh... Hmmm."

"I'll take that as a yes." I laughed. "Do you by chance have teething toys?"

"Uh, no." He looked down.

"What about whiskey?"

"You want me to give alcohol to my infant daughter?" The shock in his face was classic.

"Do you want her to stop crying or not? She's in pain. Her teeth are coming in and she has no relief. A touch of whiskey rubbed on her gums will numb the area and allow her to rest easy."

"I'm not so sure about this," Jellal sighed.

"Shut up and get the whiskey before I take her next door and use my own. This child needs some sleep and you wanna argue about the morals of giving the poor think a small amount, just enough to coat a finger, of whiskey? Shut the fuck up and do as I say before I put you through the damned wall and do it anyways."

"Are you always like this?" The man blinked at me before turning to grab a bottle of Jack from the kitchen.

"Yes." Shawn giggled.

"How else would I lead a squad of marines through enemy territory?" I asked, confusion dripped from my words.

"You're a marine?"