Note: Greetings! There's been a title change. Moonlight Sonata [Piano Sonata No. 14] is a work by Beethoven but wasn't named so until after his death. Critics say the piece is misleading with its romantic title and, instead, has all the character of a funeral march. Take that as you will.


Erza left a kiss on Jellal's shoulder before resting her head against his chest. The sound of his heart beating blurred the edges of the last few days in her mind. She didn't want to think about Simon, his disgusting photographs or the wedge she'd allowed him to drive between her and Jellal. Yes, he'd been the one to push her away but she'd started it with her unwarranted paranoia.

Thunder cracked outside and she tensed. Jellal's fingers found the tangles of her hair and gently combed through them.

"You can stay, you know," he said softly. "You don't have to be alone at home."

"I told my mom I'd be there." Erza sat up and clutched his sheet to her chest. Jellal followed and kissed her cheek.

"I'll take you home, then." His arm slid around her shoulders and squeezed. "I can stay until she gets back."

"I'm a big girl, Jellal," Erza whispered, turning her face into his neck.

"Thunder anxiety doesn't make you a baby." He released her and slid his legs over the side of the bed. Erza watched him pull his boxer briefs and pants back on. When he tossed her the discarded shirt from earlier she sighed.

"Alright… I guess. I won't put up a fight if you stay with me." She felt her cheeks warm when he grinned at her over his shoulder.

"It's late but I'm going to take a half pill then we can go." Jellal stood and left her alone in the bed, grabbing the pill bottle as he went.

When she heard the faucet in his tiny bathroom running, she crawled out of bed. The mirror above his dresser was crowded with pictures of them together. Reason after reason why she should never have distrusted him were stuck to the glass with folds of scotch tape. Erza yanked her hair up in a messy knot of a bun and slid her feet back into her shoes.

"Hey, Jellal? I'm going to go grab some water bottles, okay?"

"Yeah," he said from the bathroom. "I'll be there in a minute."

Erza left his bedroom door open and headed down the stairs and through a familiar hallway toward the kitchen pantry. She tapped out a text message to her mother confirming that Jellal would give her a ride home and stay until either Eileen returned or the rain moved on. Just as she turned the corner that lead to the pantry off the kitchen, Erza bumped into something soft that smelled of lilac. Memories of floral body spray and the cautious press of lips coated with cherry lip balm assaulted her. Erza was not prepared for the unsorted nostalgia.

"Oh!" Lucy Heartfilia jumped back and clutched a big bottle of soda and unopened bag of pretzels to her chest. Erza's mouth fell open.

"Lucy!" she sputtered, desperately trying to get a grip on herself. "Uh, what… I mean, wow, this is…"

"I'm so sorry," Lucy breathed. Her cheeks flushed pink. "I didn't know you were here. I wouldn't've –"

"This is more your house than mine," Erza said quickly. "You don't need to… you know… do anything different."

"Right," Lucy muttered. She cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted the soda and pretzels in her arms. "So, uh, I guess you and Jellal… Not that it's any of my business, of course! It's just that his mom said something at dinner the other day –"

"It's fine. We are fine, I mean. Just a misunderstanding. Or whatever. It's fine. Complicated," she tacked on uselessly. "But fine."

Erza flushed and fidgeted when Lucy finally looked her over. Her eyes caught on the messy wad of hair perched on the top of her head and the way her pants were just a little crooked.

"Good," Lucy clipped. "I'm glad. I think Jellal…" she trailed off and pursed her lips. "That's not my business, really. He can handle himself."

"He can."

"It was nice seeing you again, Erza. It's been a long time." Lucy's smile was tight and painful. It hurt. When she tried to edge around her in the hallway, Erza reached out to touch Lucy's arm.

"Lucy," she whispered. "It's good to see you. I mean it. I don't want things to be weird."

Lucy exhaled heavily and her shoulders fell.

"We used to be friends," Erza said gently. "I miss you."

"I'm sorry I ruined it," Lucy murmured.

"You didn't ruin anything. We were just –" Erza sucked in a breath and spoke impulsively. "I don't regret anything that happened."

"I don't regret it either." Lucy sniffled but didn't turn around. "We just –"

"Never talked about it."

"No. And then my dad stopped sending me here for summers and –"

"You never wrote me back." Erza's throat tightened and her eyes stung. "I thought maybe you never answered my letters because you regretted me."

"I'm gay," Lucy blurted suddenly. "I mean –" She spun around and pinned Erza with a firm stare. "I figured it out when we lived up north."

The tension inside of her broke and Erza felt a laugh bubble up from her throat. She lunged forward and pulled Lucy into a tight embrace, crunching the bag of pretzels between them.

"Don't shut me out, okay?"

"I sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I had a lot going on inside my head."

"I have so much to tell you, Lucy."

"I have things I want to tell you, too." Lucy pulled back and Erza reached out to brush her tears off her cheeks. "Are you happy? With Jellal, I mean?"

"I am." Erza smiled, really smiled for the first time in days.

"I'm happy for you."

"Hey, do you want to come with us? He's taking me home and staying for a bit because…" Erza trailed off. She didn't like admitting she was afraid of something as ridiculous as thunder.

"I know you don't like storms, Erza," Lucy said with a smirk. "And no, it's fine. I'm actually taking some tests on Monday and I need to make sure I ace them. My dad is giving my mom some shit about public school."

"He was never very fond of you mingling with the peasants," Erza said with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things he's not fond of," Lucy said with a scowl.

"You ready, Erza?" Jellal's voice came from the kitchen. When he turned the corner, he eyed Lucy's soda bottle critically. "Jesus, Lucy, are you planning on staying up all night?"

"It's just orange soda, Jellal, and caffeine free," she said haughtily. "I can make my own food choices."

"Right. Well, I'm going to Erza's for a while. I'll be back by nine probably and I can help you out with that calculus stuff."

Lucy rolled her eyes and raised her chin defiantly. "I'll be fine."

"You're stubborn."

"And you're an insufferable helicopter." She smiled at Erza once more before waving Jellal off. "I'll see you around, Erza."

"Yeah." Erza watched her go with an anxious twist of her hands. Her attitude in front of Jellal was aloof but Erza knew she'd binge on the pretzels once out of eyesight. Lucy had always been a stress eater.

"You okay?" Jellal handed her the jacket she'd left on his bedroom floor. "You seem tense."

"It's nothing." She smiled but it felt fake. Jellal didn't know about the kisses she'd shared with Lucy over the last summer they'd had together. Maybe she was still placing too much value on a span of two months at the tender age of almost-thirteen but seeing Lucy again had bowled her over.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," Jellal said, wrapping a fallen wisp of scarlet around the sloppy bun on her head.

"I'll tell you another time, okay?" Erza leaned into him and pressed her hand against his chest to feel his heart again.

"Is this about Lucy?" he whispered in her ear.

Erza felt his eyes on her and when she looked up at him she almost spilled everything. All her tangled feelings about boys and girls and kisses and what some people said was right and fine and normal, and what people like Lucy's dad insisted was wrong, jumbled confusingly. She pressed a kiss to his lips instead and took his hand.

"Another time."

"Okay."

After days of wild instability, Jellal felt like the boy she'd fallen so hard for after Lucy left a hole in her heart.


The light of sunrise crept through the small gap between the clouds and the tops of the trees. Thunder still shook the skies and rain pelted the earth. Laxus found his grandfather smoking a pungent blunt on the porch. Smoke curled from the tip of it and hung in the air.

"You don't think it's a little early for that?" Laxus muttered, urging Law out into the covered portion of the yard.

"Wake 'n bake, Laxus." Makarov coughed harshly. "The pills don't do shit for me when it rains."

"I've got a buy lined up for today. Should be a better dose." He glanced back at the man in the chair and thought he looked even more frail than the day before. "Hell on your liver, though."

"Let me worry about my liver."

Laxus left the dog sniffing the edge of the damp grass and flicking his tongue out into the rain.

"How is the lovely Miss Strauss this morning," Makarov asked, letting his head fall against the back of the chair. "She looked a little pale last night."

"Not pregnant, I guess."

"You know that for sure?"

"No, but she's making an appointment, finally."

"It's for the best."

Laxus's jaw twitched in annoyance. "I know that."

"Do you?" Makarov edged the ash from the tip of his blunt. "You were pissed when she cut you out last week. Seems like maybe you had some ideas."

"Doesn't matter now."

"It does. You can't let this happen again. Your mama was real young when Ivan brought her here. Her family wanted nothin' to do with any of it."

"Mirajane's parents won't be that kind of problem."

Makarov was silent but Laxus wasn't fooled. There was always something with the old man.

"You need to be careful. This town is rotten at its core."

"What's that got to do with Mirajane?" Law chuffed and, finally tired of the rain, flopped down on his pillow. Laxus watched him breathing and wondered what it meant that he was perpetually surrounded by old or dying things.

"Just keep your eyes open. Things have been too quiet."

"You got a source or something?"

Makarov brought the blunt to his lips again. "I don't need a source to feel a shift in the air, boy."

Laxus scowled and watched the rain patter the grass. His grandfather hadn't answered the question.

"Something's gotta give," Makarov muttered. "The cancer is spreading. What happened at the park was inevitable but the job isn't done."

"If anyone touches, Mira or her little sister –"

"That's not what I meant."

Laxus waited for the old man to finish his thought but the only sound was the rain. Makarov's blunt had gone dark between his fingers and his eyelids fluttered. With a resigned sigh, Laxus stood and grasped the hand bars on the old man's wheelchair. The air inside the house was cooler and the scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen. He left the chair near the tea table with his paper tin, nearly empty pill bottles, and the TV remote.

"Boy," Makarov grunted as Laxus turned to head into the kitchen. "I meant what I said. Keep your eyes open today. Somethin's in the air."

"It's all that fucking pot smoke, Gramps. Don't worry about me." Laxus watched him breathing in the ragged shallow way that was becoming an everyday thing, and waited until Makarov was asleep to tuck the pink and white afghan over his lap. His mother had crocheted the blanket during her pregnancy but he'd never had the heart to actually put it on his bed. She'd been expecting a girl. Laxus didn't like to think about all the ways his mother's life had gone horribly wrong.

Makarov's sweater had been rolled up just above his wrists. Laxus scowled at the sight of his grandfather's tattoo and tugged the sweater sleeve down. He had one just like it on his hip. One of the last things his mother had ever said to him had fell from her lips in a hushed breath.

"Blood is thicker than water, baby. Your granddaddy will love you when I can't anymore."

He didn't often picture blood swirling around in fancy glass cups or beakers full of water but when the melancholy took him he always came back around to the same conclusion. Everything depended on the person doing the bleeding.


Jellal's finger hovered over his dad's name before he finally blew out a breath and tapped the call button. He waited four rings before ending the call. His eyes flit to the pill bottle Erza had brought him the night before. As much as he appreciated her effort – and the handful of stitches they'd made in the tear between them – he knew the dose wouldn't be enough to control his symptoms.

His phone began to vibrate and Jellal startled. Before really preparing himself, he accepted the call.

"Dad?"

"I apologize for missing your call." Acnologia's thickly accented voice sounded completely sober and present – unlike his mother as of late. "What did you need?"

Jellal panicked. Why hadn't he thought out his words before calling? "Uh, well, how are you?"

"I am well. Is everything fine there? Or have you called me for a Sunday afternoon father and son chat?" After a long pause, Acnologia laughed. "I see my humor is still a failure. English jokes often pass me by."

"Sorry, Dad. I'm –" Jellal sucked in a deep breath. "I'm out of my meds. All of them. I'm sorry for not calling sooner but I had a fight with Erza and I'm tutoring now and there's just a lot happening."

"Is that not a thing your mother handles for you?" he asked softly.

"Uh, yes. She does, I mean. It's just that…" His lungs felt empty and the words were heavy on his tongue.

"Jellal?" The question was a gentle prod but Jellal felt it like a jab.

"She's drinking again, Dad. She dumps her pills and goes through so many bottles. Aunt Layla is here and I thought maybe she'd get herself together but…"

"I see."

"You told me to look after her and I'm not very good at it. I'm sorry."

"No es tu culpa, hijo."

"It feels like it is."

"That is my misstep, not yours, Jellal. I should never have put your mother's habits on you. The failure is my absence."

"Nobody's perfect."

"Then why have you held yourself to that standard?" Acnologia sighed and Jellal could hear the tapping of his fingers on the keys of his laptop. "I will see to it that your prescriptions are promptly filled. If not by your physician, then by one of mine on staff here."

"Thanks, Dad."

"This is not a problem, hijo. As for your mother, I will handle that, as well. How are your aunt and cousin?"

Jellal relaxed and fell backwards into the bed pillows. He felt lighter now that his dad was behind the wheel.

"They're okay, I guess. Lucy is starting school with me next week. Aunt Layla just kind of follows mom around. I don't know what they do all day." He didn't voice his guesses. Acnologia could figure that out on his own.

"I am happy they have found a place to stay in our home."

A voice interrupted the conversation and Jellal could feel the end coming. His father was head of neurology at the largest medical complex in the region. As much as Jellal wished he'd be home more often, he did appreciate the firm line Acnologia drew between his career and his family.

"I'll let you go, Dad. Thanks for –"

"Thank me for nothing, Jellal. I will do a better job with these things from here."

"Yeah, okay."

"I will have my assistant notify you when the prescriptions are ready for you to pick them up."

The call ended abruptly and Jellal rolled over to his stomach. He pushed the phone under the pillows before burying his face in them.


Laxus balled his hands in his pockets and wished he'd worn a jacket. The rain had let up just in time for him to clomp through the muddy park without getting wet but the chilled air was a nuisance.

Zeref Dragneel needed a haircut. His midnight black hair had been thoroughly tousled by the wind but he remained visibly unbothered. He watched Laxus cross the park with no expression on his face – Laxus would call it a baby face. The guy was almost twenty but still looked just as young as Natsu. He sucked on a cigarette but flicked it aside into the wet grass when Laxus joined him at the picnic table.

"You're on time," Zeref said, folding his hands together in front of him. "It's nice to see a Dreyar breaking the old family mold."

"Let's get this over with," Laxus growled.

Zeref watched him blankly before sighing. "I guess more than one mold left in the dust is too much for one day." He shrugged and held out a hand. Laxus pressed a roll of twenty-dollar pills into Zeref's palm.

"I want the pure stuff. None of that ibuprofen shit."

"That stuff's bad for your liver."

"Cut the lecture, Dragneel. I don't give a fuck about your medical expertise or your wiki-degree. You said you had it."

Zeref shrugged and his hand slid into a pocket of his utility pants. He produced a baggie that looked to have maybe ten pills in it. Laxus fumed.

"You're ripping me off."

"This stuff is pricey and harder to get." He held out the baggie between two fingers. "I can give you the other stuff, of course. But you'd just complain about it and it won't make your grandpa feel any better."

Laxus scowled and snatched the baggie from Zeref. "Mind your fucking business."

Zeref tapped another cigarette from the box beside him and lit it quickly. His deep, black eyes never left Laxus's.

"You sure you're not looking for a side gig? You're real good at keeping things to the point. A lot of guys talk too much. I know you could use the cash and I'd give you a family discount." He blew out a lungful of smoke and vaguely gestured at Laxus's hip. "Wouldn't it be a bit like coming home?"

"Fuck you." Laxus spun on his heel and didn't look back even once. He told himself he knew where his home was and it wasn't in the park pushing pills and whatever else.

He slid behind the steering wheel and hoped Mirajane would still be at his house and prayed she'd made lunch. Before he could even get the key in the ignition the flashing red and blue lights of a police car reflected off his rearview mirror. The siren blared once as a warning. Laxus didn't need to look to know whose curled finger tapped on his window.

"Step out of the car, please." Ivan's voice was damn near smug and the cuffs were cold around his wrists. "Laxus Dreyar, you are under arrest for the illegal purchase of a controlled substance."

He felt the impact of his body against the car door and killed the impulse to fight his father off.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Fuck! Ivan's hands patted down his pockets. A folded knife, a wad of cash, and the baggie pills were tossed on the roof of the car.

"You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court."

Laxus's eyes found Zeref and his blood boiled. The wind tossed his too-long hair and carried away a cloud of cigarette smoke. His eyes were just as empty as ever.

"Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

His jaw flexed and his hands curled into fists. In his head he pounded Zeref's face bloody.

"Yes," he ground out.

The last thing he saw of the park before Ivan carted him away was Zeref's back.