AN: I've taken the liberty to ignore one small detail regarding chapters 300-302: let us all just assume the mess with the graveyard and Arcadios has taken place in the morning of day 5 and not in the middle of the night of day 4. It's a tiny detail, but hey, I like my plot sans holes. So this chapter takes place on the late morning of day 5 right after the events of chapter 302.

Disclaimer: Fairy Tail and its characters belong to Hiro Mashima; I own absolutely nothing. Cover image by Rae.


part XII.

The feeling of dread would not leave him.

Rubbing a hand across his eyes, Gajeel sighed, grimacing at the tension in his shoulders and wondering idly when they'd get some damn peace and quiet. It seemed an age since the beginning of the games, and it hadn't even been a single week. Just four days – four measly days that might as well have been four fucking years for all the shit they'd gone through. And the worst thing was, he decided as he turned the corner, his feet taking him towards the infirmary of their own volition – he'd walked the halls enough in the past twenty-four hours to know it by instinct rather than sight – was that he had a bad feeling they were far from finished. And his gut had an uncanny way of always being right, whether he liked it or not.

Scowling, he pushed the thoughts of the graveyard to the back of his mind. He'd deal with it later – dwelling too much on it now would only give him a headache, and he'd had enough of those to last him a lifetime. The memory of the piles of dragon bones littered across the valley had something churning inside him, and he didn't like the shadow it had cast over the games. Not to mention the new mess they'd gotten themselves into with the bunny girl's arrest, and if that wasn't damn suspicious, he didn't know what was.

Rounding a second corner, he found himself in the hallway leading directly to the infirmary, and as he neared it his ears picked up the sound of voices – her voice, soft and muffled, and the high lilt of the kid's. It had lost its severity when Levy had successfully pulled through the night, and now she sounded pleased – positive, even, which was hella lot more preferable than when she'd sounded a decade older than she really was. Kids her age shouldn't have needed to bother, but he doubted there was any going back for her, or that she'd want to go back. He knew how it was to have been forced to grow up too fast – most members of Fairy Tail did, in one way or another. And especially the dragonslayers.

The thought sent his mind back to the mounds of ancient skeletons and the mind-staggering fact that the dark dragon who'd all but obliterated Tenroujima had used to be human. Had used to be a dragonslayer.

Like him.

And the thought that there existed a possibility for him to end up like that had him feeling sick to his stomach.

As he neared the door, he didn't hesitate to push it open, and the conversation inside halted at his entrance. Not fit to move much other than her hands and to some extent, her legs, the shrimp was tucked in on her bed, the only one currently in the infirmary save Wendy herself. He assumed her posse had been discharged, as well as the brute, and that was fine by him. The less of a madhouse the place was, the more rest she'd get, and the lesser his headaches.

His eyes caught the freshly made bed on her right, and he felt a jolt of anger at the sudden turn of events that had left them one stellar mage short. If he'd learned one thing since coming to the capitol, it was that the entire business these guys ran was corrupt to the core. But he wasn't about to plunge into battle without thinking, even it they had her locked up somewhere. He felt his brows furrow as the thought struck him that she wouldn't even have been there if he hadn't let her tag along. After Shorty had fallen back asleep in the early hours of the morning and Gajeel had asked the kid to come along, bunny girl had decided she needed to join them, despite Wendy's insistence that she should have at least spent another night in the infirmary. But spending so much time with the idiot had made her annoyingly stubborn, and so he'd let her do as she pleased just so she'd shut her trap. Salamander would probably have told her to come along, anyway – the guy couldn't keep his mouth shut for long, either.

But the thought that it was somehow his fault wouldn't leave him. And fuck it all if that wasn't the last thing he needed. The guilt seemed to be piling up these days – what the hell was this guild doing to him? There was a time where he'd have scoffed and gone on his way regardless of what happened to anyone else, but here he was, watching over a woman who had the charred pieces of his heart in a vice and feeling guilty for letting her loud-assed friend get herself arrested for whatever evil plot the creepy-as-hell captain was concocting.

He shook his head. Not now. He'd think about that later.

The kid sat on the chair he'd spent most of the night occupying, legs dangling over the edge. Levy grinned at his approach, then grimaced as the action had the bandage across her nose constricting, but there was good humour in her eyes, and it was a damn sight better than the pain that had been there since she'd fully woken up. "Hey!" she chirped, and he smirked despite himself as he came to stand beside the bed. Placing a hand on her forehead, he ignored the way she rolled her eyes.

"It's gone," she said, but he ignored her, looking to the kid for confirmation. She smiled.

"Her temperature's back to normal, and she's responding fully to the healing now. At this rate, it won't be long before she's out of bed," she said with a smile towards the bookworm. There was a haunted look to her eyes – bunny girl's predicament no doubt bothering her, and going by Shorty's good mood, she hadn't been told of what had happened. Which meant the kid probably expected him to do it. And he knew the knowledge wouldn't serve to do anything but give her something to fret about.

Damn it.

Pushing the thought back to deal with later, Gajeel snorted. "Not happening. She's staying here until she's fully healed."

Shorty mimicked his snort. "I'm sorry, are you the one who's bedridden? I'd like to be able to go to the bathroom on my own, at the very least!"

He gave her a look, eyes raking down her mostly bandaged form, and she sighed. "I feel better – doesn't that count for something? It's not like I'll go running out of here – I just want to...I don't know. See the rest of the games. Anything than be cooped up in here alone."

He snorted. "Tough luck, shortstuff. You'll have company when someone gets their ass handed to them in the arena. And you can watch it on the screen."

She stuck her lower lip out, eyes narrowing, but there was only annoyance there, not hostility, although he doubted she was truly capable of the latter. "What he means is, of course you can go out when you've rested more, and if you promise to be careful," the kid said with a wink, her eyes meeting Gajeel's, and the unspoken request for him to be the one to make sure she was careful was crystal clear. Levy grinned at the prospect, and she looked so damn happy he kept himself from saying he didn't really want her to be anywhere else when there was shit looming on the horizon that he had no idea how to prepare for. She'd only have rolled her eyes and told him she could handle herself. And though that might have been true once, with everything that had happened, he was damn well entitled to be a little sceptical.

"You look like you don't agree," she said then, and there was a knowing look on her face. He shook his head. His hand hadn't moved from where it splayed across her forehead, and he moved his fingers slightly to brush away the curl that kept falling into her face. He wondered how she'd react when she got a look at herself in a mirror – she hadn't asked for it yet, and even if he knew she wasn't one for vanity, he also knew hair was a damn touchy subject for most women.

And having half of it chopped off had to be hard on just about anyone.

But it would grow back. Hair mended without assistance, and it could be hidden – she could decorate it with a ridiculously flamboyant headband or something. Besides, no one in Fairy Tail would say shit about it if he had anything to say, and as for himself, he couldn't really give a flying fuck if she'd been completely bald. Because she was breathing. And she was awake. And she was healing. And damn it all if that wasn't more important than a few strands of hair.

A strange smile stretched across her face suddenly, and before he had a chance to react, she'd lifted her arm to place her bandaged fingers over his. She flinched slightly at the action, and he was about to yell at her for being stupid when her smile turned to a grin. And even if her eyes were watery with pain, he couldn't find it in himself to ruin that small victory for her. He knew the value of her hands, tiny as they were, and didn't even want to pretend to know what she had to have gone through when she'd woken up and had barely been able to make her fingers twitch without passing out.

Now she was in control, and he might be an ass, but he wouldn't take that away from her if he could help it.

"See?" she whispered. "I'm healing."

And the worst thing was, he didn't know whether she was saying it for her own sake, or for his.

Turning his hand around, he lifted hers as carefully as he was capable to place it back down onto the mattress, and he didn't miss the flash of disappointment that was gone was quickly as it had appeared. A smirk stretched across his face as he tightened his grip on her fingers, and despite himself he couldn't keep from feeling pleased at the surprise that settled on her face as his hand stayed where it was – holding hers.

And at the moment he couldn't really give a fuck that the kid was no doubt going to be telling the barmaid, who'd be telling the rest of the guild, who'd place bets and who'd never let him live it down. Because when she curled her fingers, stiff as they were, around his, he found that he'd put up with a lot more crap than holding hands if it'd make her happy.

"Is that a new headband?" she asked then.

He glared, and was about to retort when she beat him to it. "Is that the one Lucy was talking about?"

From across from them, the kid shook her head. "That was the love-headband," she said, and Gajeel wondered how the hell she'd been dragged into the bunny girl's schemes. "This one's the replacement," she supplied with a nod of her head.

Levy looked confused. "I feel like I've missed something vital," she told him, and he ignored the hidden question for him to tell her everything. The kid laughed.

"Juvia said it's his token!" she all but chirped, and he shot her a glare, but before he could respond, Levy spoke.

"Token?"

...and damn it if her eyes weren't bloody glowing.

Damn romantics and their damn obsession with fairy tales.

"It's for you, Levy," Wendy said, her grin pleased, and Gajeel felt his eye twitch.

"Like a true knight," the deep voice supplied from the doorway, and three sets of eyes shot to Elfman where he leaned against the frame. He grinned. "And a man!"

"The hell are you still doing here?" Gajeel asked.

"Don't be crude, Gajeel – this is an infirmary," the kid girl said. He snorted.

"More like a madhouse," he muttered under his breath.

Levy laughed. "This is Fairy Tail – don't tell me you're surprised?" she asked, eyes twinkling. And as if someone had coordinated the damn event, two familiar scents hit his nose before the sound of their voices, and he rolled his eyes as her accessories entered.

"Levy!"

"Lev, you're awake!"

Bandaged heavily and with more than one limb encased in a cast, they looked even more stupid than ever, and he'd have told them that if it hadn't been for the sheer and utter joy on Shorty's face.

Damn it.

"Guys!" she greeted them as they came over – or more like limped over, and Gajeel felt a smirk tug at his lips at the glare Speedy shot him, but he didn't make any snide comments. And damn him if there wasn't a mountain of unspoken words between them, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be the first to breach it. If Speedy had a problem, he'd have to come out and say it. 'Like a man', or whatever the fuck the weirdo loitering next to the doorway would say.

"How are you feeling?" the fat one asked as he came to stand beside the kid.

Shorty's smile was wry. "Better, but well, all things considered. Itching to get out of here, though," she said, and shot Gajeel a look, which he promptly ignored.

"Not a chance," Speedy interjected, and she rolled her eyes.

"Not you, too, Jet – I can't stay cooped up here forever!"

"It's only been a day," Wendy spoke. "And you've barely been awake for most of it."

There was no arguing with that logic, but she pouted nonetheless. Speedy grinned. "Hey, we'll come keep you company! We can watch the games in here, and cheer from the sidelines," he said, his stupid grin ridiculously winning.

And of course it made her smile. Tch.

"Well I can't argue with you there, can I?" she asked. "I know I have to, I just...I don't like being bedridden," she said with an uncomfortable shrug, and something flashed across her face that had Gajeel's brows furrowing, and he was acutely aware of Speedy's glare cutting into him. But he ignored it, because he could damn well recognise his own past mistakes without having them pointed out.

'Course, he didn't tell him that. Perhaps he should have, because suddenly there was a thick tension in the room that hadn't been there before, and if he hadn't been itching for some damn privacy with just the kid present, now he was very much aware of all the people in the suddenly very crowded room.

"So...Jet, how are you holding up?" Shorty asked then, in an attempt to break the silence.

Speedy quirked a smile. "Despite the cast? Better. Porlyusica wouldn't let us occupy the beds any longer, though – needed 'em if there'd be a fight today. Sounded like she thought the entire guild would end up needing medical-attention." He shook his head. "She's a right positive gem, isn't she?" he laughed.

The kid smiled. "Don't say that too loud, Jet, she'll hear you."

He shuddered. "Good advice. I've had more than my share of her trying to glare me better," he muttered with a shake of his head.

Levy raised a brow. "She's been really nice to me," she said, and silence seemed to sweep across the room like a scythe. She frowned. "What?" Gajeel pointedly avoided her gaze, and her fingers tightened around his.

"Hey, look at the time," Speedy said then, after a moment of sheer uncomfortable silence. "Do you want anything to eat, Levy? Or something to drink? We could get it for you."

Her frown deepened. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

"It's nothing," Gajeel spoke up – the tone of his voice brooking no argument. Her eyes shot from her team and up to meet his, but he had his gaze planted on Speedy. "Hag's got a soft spot fer midgets," he said with a nod at the kid, who turned her head away.

Levy sighed. "I'm not going to pretend I can't see that there's something you're not telling me," she said, and if she could have crossed her arms in defiance, he knew she would have.

"Then don't," he retorted. "Just leave it for now – it ain't going to help ya get better." She opened her mouth, but he gave her a sharp look, and she closed it, although her eyes didn't leave his. "You'll know soon enough," he grumbled. She frowned, but said nothing.

Then the kid spoke up. "Gajeel, maybe you should tell her about what happened."

He refrained from snapping at her that it was the least logical thing to do, but the look she gave him left no room for argument. And maybe she had a point – maybe the bookworm didn't want to find out about the bunny girl's capture from the news or from someone else. And if she found out he'd been there and let them drag her off, and then having kept that information from her, she'd be up and off the bed to yell at him.

And as if right on cue, "What is she talking about?"

Gajeel shook his head, attempting nonchalance. "Nothin' serious – just a complication."

She frowned. "What kind of complication?"

He actually caught himself feeling bad for evading her question again – he really had turned soft. But he wasn't about to unearth everything they'd learned with her accessories hanging about. "It ain't important – just dragonslayer business," he said, and damn it if her disappointment wasn't like a slap to the face. And even worse – the knowing look that told him she knew all too well that he was bullshitting her.

But she didn't say anything else, and he felt his free hand twitch, wishing to talk to her alone but unable to with all the damn people–

"Hey, Jet and Droy, why don't we leave them alone for a moment?" the kid spoke up as she rose from the chair, her eyes meeting Gajeel's. "They probably want a moment to themselves," she said with a fanged smile even as she began to usher the two towards the door. "You'll call me if anything happens, yeah?"

Gajeel only nodded, but his eyes were firmly trained on the bookworm, who looked as though he was about to deliver her news of the impending end of the world.

And maybe he was. Hell if he knew what was going on.

"Jet – you coming?" the fat one asked as he stood in the doorway. Speedy stood his ground, and for a moment Gajeel wondered if he'd have to chuck the idiot out on his ass, but then he turned to leave.

"I'll get you some breakfast, Levy," he said as he walked towards the door, and she nodded softly.

"Okay."

He sounded...resigned, and Gajeel felt that more had passed in that exchange, but it wasn't any of his business. As long as Speedy knew his place, he had no problem with him. "A man knows the value of privacy," the weirdo added as he moved to follow, closing the door behind him as he stepped out.

And then they were alone.

He knew she was looking at him – could feel her damn inquisitive gaze like the heat from a fucking fire, and knew that if he met her eyes he'd tell her everything. And she knew this, too. And a while ago, that would have pissed him off. But things had changed, and now it only annoyed him that she knew him too well for her own good. Or for his own good.

He sighed. "We found a dragon graveyard," he said then. No point in beating around the bush, and if he was going to tell her about what had happened to the stellar mage, she might as well know the surrounding circumstances.

Her brows pulled down into a frown. "A dragon...graveyard?" she asked, and something in her eyes reflected the panic he'd first felt upon seeing it. But he'd rather admit defeat to the brats from Sabertooth who thought they were dragonslayers than admit he'd been afraid, even if it had been only for a second, that the remains his Pops had been amongst the bones.

"It weren't any of ours," he assured her, and she breathed a sight of relief that almost had him feeling...touched. Almost, because he didn't do those kinds of sissy feelings, but that didn't mean her empathy had gone entirely unnoticed.

"We discovered some shit that might complicate things," he continued. "Connected to Zeref, like every other fucking mess in this world," he muttered.

"The root of all evil, it seems," she murmured, and his brows furrowed sharply as he took in her bandaged hands and face.

"Not all evil," he grumbled, remembering his former master. He wouldn't have been surprised if he were to discover that Ivan was after some of the evil wizard's secrets, but what had been his driving ambition as long as Gajeel had worked for him had been the downfall of Fairy Tail. Which, seen in light of all the nutters who wanted to raise the dead, cleanse the world of non-magic beings or just downright destroy everything, was a remarkably small ambition for such a humongous psychopath.

She quirked a smile. "Well, that's something, at least," she said, finding humour in this, for some weird-assed reason. But he'd heard somewhere that close encounters with death had a way of making people able to joke about it more. "At least we don't have to worry about Zeref joining forces with Ivan Dreyar," she said with a shrug.

He snorted. "Idiot's got too much of a one-track mind to take over the world."

She laughed at that, and he shook his head at the bizarre conversation. It wasn't something to joke about – not when things were what they were. But she was laughing, and even if it was over such a morbid subject, it was better than nothing.

When she sobered, she took a deep breath, and when she looked at him there was no trace of humour in her eyes. "There's more, isn't it?"

He nodded, and breathed in through his nose, before he spoke. "Acnologia."

A twinge of fear passed across her face at the name of the entity that had nearly killed them all in a single breath, and he remembered the feel of a small hand clutching his for dear life as they waited for their end to come. And the thought struck him again that the dragon had once been human. Had once, perhaps, had a guild, with comrades and a master. Perhaps he'd even had a woman.

And Gajeel wondered, were he to lose himself – were any of them to – would he think twice about whose life he took? Would his mind be driven away to the point that he'd lose sight of his comrades? Would he even recognise the eyes looking up at him now, or the voice that was as quick to remind him of her affections, as it was to reprimand him for his scowling? The thought was numbing, and the unfamiliar coils of fear curled themselves around his insides, rendering him cold to his core.

No doubt she picked up on this, because suddenly she was alert. "What's wrong? Gaj–"

"Acnologia used to be a dragonslayer," he said then, cutting her off, and her mouth hung open as she stared at him. And there was real fear in her eyes now, sharp as a knife and piercing. But it wasn't fear of the dragon, he realized. It was fear for him, and the fact that her thoughts had taken the same route his own had only made things worse, if that was even remotely possible.

"How?"

Her voice was a rasp, and her disbelieving eyes had gone even larger. And the small hand in his tightened its grip, as though that alone could keep anything from happening – as if that alone could keep him with her and away from the future he was presenting.

And he found that if anything ever did happen, and he forgot the sound of her voice and the sight of her eyes, he hoped he'd remember her touch.

And even though he hated the fear in her eyes, he told her everything. About the kid's magic trick, and the spirit they'd encountered. About the war and the dragons' choice to give humans the ability to slay them.

And...about Acnologia.

When he was finished, there was a hollow look to her eyes, but her brows were set in determination. "Promise me that won't happen to you," she said then, after a silence.

He snorted. "As if I'd be that stupid."

She shook her head. "It's not about being stupid. You said the more they dabble...the further they go..." she stopped herself, brows furrowing as she seemed to have trouble finding her words. "It could happen. You saw Natsu that time, in the cathedral..." she trailed off, eyes haunted by the memories.

He didn't say anything. He knew, of course. And he remembered perfectly well. Remembered her voice drawing him away from his opponent, remembered how fucking angry he'd been at her sheer stupidity of following them when Laxus had shown no scruples with hurting her in a saner state of mind. But most of all, he remembered Salamander. He'd been a twinge awed at the time at the sheer force behind his attacks, and the driving determination that had seemed to unlock some hidden well of powers Gajeel himself had not been able to tap into. Now, the thought held no awe and no jealousy. It was cold, hard fear that lodged itself in the roots of his black heart. There was a line now, and it could be crossed. Salamander was known for resorting to drastic measures rather than giving up in a fight. How far did he have to be pushed to lose control completely? How far did Gajeel have to be pushed? He remembered the feeling – the dark, irresistible urge to go after Ivan that night in the alley. The need to hurt like she had been hurt. When he'd found Shorty pinned to the wall, the mockery of a sacrifice, he'd been two seconds away from doing just that; what had held him back had been her. Her need for medical attention had, in that moment where his grasp on his own sanity had seemed all but lost, trumped the need to avenge. But that didn't erase the fact that he'd felt it. With every fibre of his being, he'd known a lust for blood so savage it made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it. He knew it with a clarity so sharp it almost staggered him. The urge to kill – to disembowel his enemy and tear him limb from limb like a raging beast.

Like a dragon.

"Gajeel?"

His eyes snapped back to the bookworm where she regarded him with furrowed brows, and he realized his grip on her hand had to be hurting her. Loosening his fingers slightly, he didn't say anything as she tightened hers in response. "What is it?" she asked.

He looked at her. Looked at the visible evidence of his former master's vengeance. The bandages wrapping around her arms, the casts around her small feet. The shallow cuts were no more than small pink scars now and her bruises yellow rather than black – courtesy of the kid's heavy doses of healing spells. But the evidence lingered, and even if they were to fade completely with time, he knew there was something she would carry for the rest of her life, hidden under the bandages across her stomach. He hadn't told her that, and neither had the hag or the kid. And they wouldn't. Not yet. For now, it was enough that she was alive.

And as he considered that thought – considered her tilted head and the enormous eyes looking up at him, Gajeel found he knew exactly what it would take to push him over the edge – to drive him to the deprived state of being that had shaped and formed Acnologia all those years ago.

It was her.

The steady beat of her pulse through his hand where it gripped hers was like a comforting hum in his veins. It had been the first thing he'd sought when her small form had fallen into his arms that night, released from the iron nails holding it up, and he'd searched for it every five minutes that first night in the makeshift infirmary. It had been an anchor in his state of barely repressed fury and bloodlust, keeping him grounded. If he lost that...

If he lost her, he'd lose himself.

"Gajeel?"

Her voice was soft as she spoke, and he realized he hadn't said anything since his last comment. He shook his head. His thoughts – his stark realization of his predicament – hung over him like a lead weight, both a promise and a threat. And he knew with a certainty that seemed to reverberate through his entire form, that he would never tell her how much his sanity depended on her survival.

"It won't happen to me," he said in stead, but he didn't know who he was trying to convince. Her frown told him his confidence was hardly reassuring, but she didn't say anything, only gripped his hand tighter, and he realized she was tugging him towards her.

And he relented. Because it'd been damn long since he'd kissed her, and because the future seemed little more than a dark pitch of misery from his current vantage point. But her mouth was soft, and the small, cold nose nudging against his was as much of a proof that she lived as the breath fanning across his jaw. Her stiff hand slipped out of his to tangle in the hair on the back of his neck as the other curled tentatively at his throat, and she tugged him closer, and if it hadn't been for the desperate undertone to her actions, he would have smirked at her eagerness.

Reaching down, he sneaked a hand around her head to cradle the back of it, tilting it slightly to make up for her awkward position. She smelled like medicine and clean sheets and nothing like the ink and dusty old paper he was used to, but it wasn't death and it wasn't blood and he'd take anything else if it meant she was alive and breathing against him. Slanting his mouth against hers, he pushed all thoughts of dragons and portals and the future away from his mind, settling in stead on the present and the soft form pressing against him. Despite her bandages, the soft skin of her throat was warm and exposed, catching against the callouses on his fingers as he trailed his free hand up and along her jawline. And the same desperation that fuelled her seemed to seep into him, and before he could check himself and remember that she was still injured and semi-drugged, he clutched her to him like a starving man. She responded in turn, and made no show of being in pain as she pushed herself up, her bandaged fingers pulling him closer even as she was rising to meet him.

"Not a good idea," he growled against her mouth, his fangs catching against the soft skin of her lips, but she swallowed the words.

"Shut up – it's about damn time, is what you mean," she retorted, almost under her breath, and a soft chuckle followed her remark.

He snorted at her sass, but didn't pull away from her, sliding his hand down the slope of her neck to her collarbones peeking out from the half-way buttoned flannel shirt that covered her bandages. The fabric slid away without much resistance, and he caught her sharp intake of breath as his hand came in contact with the skin there, and he felt her shiver against him. When she made no move to make him stop, and no sound that indicated she was in pain, he let it travel downwards, and this time he did smirk at the heat that rose in her cheeks at the realization that she was quite without any form of underwear.

He chuckled, the sound from somewhere deep in his throat, and she pushed herself up to angle her mouth towards his, no doubt to stifle the sound. He grinned against her lips, and deliberately traced his hand down the swell of her breast, and the responding gasp had a slow coil of satisfaction unravelling from somewhere deep within him, and a growl seemed to bubble in his throat without his consent. Her hands had left his hair in favour of his shoulders, and for once he was damn glad he'd ditched the feathers, for bandaged as they were, her tiny hands felt damn good against his skin. A light stroke of his thumb across an exposed nipple had her arching her back with another gasp, and his blood thrummed in his ears in response to the reaction. Her hands sneaked from his shoulders to his partly-exposed chest, and again he felt a surge of satisfaction at his new choice of garments. Pushing her shirt further off her small frame, he let his fingers travel form her breasts down the curve of her ribcage–

–only to halt upon reaching her gauze-wrapped midsection, and for a second the deep thrum of his blood in his ears and the simmer of pleasure within him was replaced by a shock of cold realization.

Noticing his halted actions, Levy pulled away slightly. "What's wrong?" she breathed, dark eyes searching out his, but they were firmly attached to the heavy bandages exposed by her now completely unbuttoned shirt. She followed his gaze, and her brows furrowed. "What's that?" she asked then, as though only now realizing the bandage was there.

One of her hands slipped from his chest, but he caught it before it could touch the gauze, and she startled, looking up into his eyes, confusion pressing through the daze that had overcome her during their ministrations.

He didn't say anything, only looked at her. Her pupils were heavily diluted and her breath came out in short puffs, and her flushed cheeks had a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She smiled a little, although her eyes were haunted, but she didn't push as she pulled him closer again, placing her lips against his, and he almost grinned as she placed his hand back where it had been–

A throat clearing behind them had her startling like a deer, and Gajeel looked up to see the hag in the now open doorway to the infirmary, a scowl on her face to rival one of his own. Levy squeaked, and scrambled to pull her shirt closed.

Porlyusica had her arms crossed over her chest, and the tone of her voice was dangerously low as she spoke. "I thought I made it clear she needed rest, brat," she said as she came inside.

Gajeel, having pulled himself away from the bookworm, crossed his arms as he raised a brow in challenge. From beside him, Shorty seemed quite intent on straightening the rumpled sheets, and he didn't bother to tell her that it was a little late for that, that if anything, with her cheeks as red as they were and her eyes as dark, the state of the sheets wasn't what betrayed their activities.

Stepping up to the bed, the old woman regarded the script mage with a raised brow. "I see someone's getting better," she sneered, although for some reason, there wasn't half as much malice in her tone towards the girl as towards everyone else. Gajeel frowned, and then the hag turned her narrowed gaze on him.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she snapped, and despite himself, he flinched. There was something about her that had the ability to render all the mages in Fairy Tail into errant children, and he hadn't been scolded like that since before his Pops left.

"Porlyusica," Levy started, but a glare from the woman had her clamping her mouth shut and averting her eyes. Gajeel snorted, and the woman levelled him with another sneer.

"Makarov is looking for you," she grumbled. "It's about the blonde."

Levy's gaze snapped back to the two of them, and Gajeel realized he hadn't really gotten that far in telling her about bunny girl's situation. Well it was her fault for distracting him, wasn't it? But somehow he didn't think she'd accept that as an excuse.

"Blonde?" she asked. "Lucy?"

The hag raised a brow at her, then turned to Gajeel. "You haven't told her?" she asked, and Gajeel glowered.

"I was going to," he snapped, and she snorted.

"Well make it quick – the first round is about to start," she said, before turning her attention back to Levy. "Are you in any pain?"

She grimaced, and her hand twitched slightly. "A little," she admitted, and the old woman only scoffed to herself as she felt her forehead, before checking some of the bandages and the healing cuts and bruises.

"Well, you can blame it on strenuous activities," she muttered under her breath, and the bookworm blushed a very deep red as she followed up with, 'damn hormonal brats'. When she was satisfied with her check-up, she levelled Gajeel with another glare. "You'd better get to talking, boy, if you're going to be at the arena on time," she grumbled before she turned to head back the way she'd entered. She wasn't even out the door before Shorty spoke up.

"What's happened to Lucy?"

The severity of her tone told him she knew it wasn't trivial, but she seemed more eager to know what it was than angry at him for not telling her. He sighed. "The higher-up's have got her," he said then. "Had her arrested along with the punk from Sabertooth – the stellar mage."

Levy frowned. "Yukino?"

He nodded, and her brows furrowed further. "Is–were they hurt?"

He snorted. "Bunny girl's not supposed to be out of bed, but I'm guessing they're just detaining 'em."

"But what for?" she asked, leaning back slightly into the mattress. Gajeel looked at her, wondering if revealing too much would upset her. But then he figured he'd already said most of it, so he might as well say the rest. And it didn't take long to explain the concept behind the crazy captain's plan – it was simple enough, and he watched as her frown deepened as he explained what they planned on using the portal for. When he was done, there was a thoughtful look on her face,

"Changing the past will have consequences," she said.

He snorted. "Didn't seem like he'd thought much about it."

"Well at least he's not out to join Zeref," she remarked, and Gajeel grumbled under his breath. "What?" she asked.

He shook his head. "We'll see. Guy's still too damn suspicious for his own good, and he was the one who tried to have blondie kidnapped in the first place, you know."

She nodded. "I know – I was there when Ivan told you."

He blinked, and she tilted her head slightly with a smile. It seemed like a lifetime ago, like everything that had happened in the past few days. But he hadn't forgotten about the incident with her eavesdropping – it was, in a way, what had set off the chain of events that had led them to where they were. But sometimes he forgot how much she actually knew about him, and whenever he thought about that he couldn't help but wonder why the hell she even bothered. A saner woman would have ditched his ass a long time ago.

But she'd proven more than once that she was more than stubborn enough to give him a run for his money, and after everything that had happened, he wasn't about to push her away. Not when he'd fought so damn hard just to keep her.

"So...what will you do now?" she asked. The same question they were all asking themselves, and which no one could seem to find a satisfying answer to. Half the guild wanted to ditch the games and just go after the stellar mage, while some wanted to win the games and make them let her go as they'd said, wishing to avoid a confrontation. And even if Gajeel was itching for a good fight, he had a feeling the best course of action was to lay low and plan their course. Discretion being the better part of valour, and all that crap. This wasn't a single enemy they were up against – it was an entire army. And if the other guilds disagreed with their actions, then a full guild war could break out, which was definitely not good.

"We'll win the tournament," he said then. "And if they don't release her...we'll give 'em hell."

She nodded at that, and looked down at her hands. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "No."

She sighed. "If I'm better–"

"No," he cut her off again. "No way in hell, Shorty. It ain't happening."

She looked at him, brows furrowed in defiance, and he glared right back, taking her challenge head-on. After an intense moment, she sighed, but she didn't look away. "Then you'll fight for me," she said. "You'll make sure you get her back safely." It wasn't a question – it was a statement. Hell, it was a demand, if he was any judge.

He snorted. "The hell kind of Fairy Tail mage do you take me for? 'Course we'll get her back."

A smile broke her frown in two, and she shook her head. "You're such a contradiction sometimes," she muttered under her breath, and Gajeel just grinned. Her eyes lit up then, as though she'd just remembered something, and she turned her gaze towards the bed the bunny girl had occupied the night before.

"Wendy said Lucy had left something for you," she declared, her eyes on a small shape sitting on the crisp white pillow. Gajeel raised a brow, but turned to retrieve it. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in white cloth, and weighed close to nothing. He frowned, wondering what the hell the girl had been up to. She was damn cheeky sometimes, and all the way to the graveyard she'd tried to hide her smiles at his new headgear, which he'd promptly ignored. His back was to the bookworm as he unfolded the cloth, already assuming it to be some kind of teasing gesture, but his hands stilled as he pulled out what had been inside.

Levy's headband. Stitched and mended, and with a new rosette adorning it.

And not a single trace of blood.

"Gajeel? What is it?"

He pocketed the headband before he turned back to the script mage, who was straining her neck to see. "A favour," was all he said, and even if she had the curious twinkle in her eyes that usually got her into trouble, she didn't pry for more information. She only nodded, and there was a smile on her face that made him wonder if maybe she knew what it had been.

"Don't you have a match to get to?" she asked then, tilting her head to the side, and he snorted.

"Don't get cheeky," he growled as he stepped up, seizing her by the chin and kissing her. She laughed against his mouth, and when he pulled back to leave, her smile was brilliant.

"Be careful," she murmured, and he flashed her a fanged grin.

"Always careful," he said, and now it was her time to snort.

"No you're not."

He shrugged as he headed for the door. "Don't get into trouble," he called over his shoulder as he left.

"I'm bedridden – how could I possibly get into trouble?" she called back, and he snorted to himself, knowing she'd find a way if she put her mind to it.

Closing the door behind him, he headed down the corridor towards the arena, knowing he was late but not really giving a damn. The entire business with the tournament was shady as fuck, and he was tired of being played like a damn pawn. They all were.

His hand closed around the mended headband in his pocket, and his brows narrowed as he stalked down the hall. Idiots always made the same mistake in thinking Fairy Tail would willingly bend to their wishes. If they'd made it a point to learn from the mistakes of others, they'd have known that the guild was never forced into doing anything – they did as they damn well pleased. They could have stormed the castle for the damn princess if they wanted to, but there was some damn suspicious shit going on in this city, and if anyone could figure out what, it would have to be someone on the inside.

And the King of Crocas had just landed himself the loudest and most annoying prisoner they could have possibly found. A girl who had the uncanny ability to make allies of just about anyone, and who was a right pain in the ass as a hostage. Hell, Gajeel should know – he'd done the same mistake himself.

Pulling the headband from his pocket, he twined it around his wrist, the rosette pressing against his pulse and partly hidden by the rest of the fabric closing over it. Tying a deft knot, he didn't so much as halt in his tracks as he continued down the corridor.

They would win the tournament. If only to buy more time to figure out what the hell they were going to do with the damn doomsday-machine parked smack in the middle of the palace. They'd win, and if the bunny girl hadn't driven their army mad by then or sicked her spirits on them, they'd take down the entire city if that was what it took. They'd been up against a disillusioned king before, and he'd learned of Fairy Tail's wrath the hard way. And it would seem these idiots were determined to do the same. But that was fine by Gajeel.

And if they hurt the blonde he'd personally hand their sorry asses to the fire-idiot for a good roast.


AN: GIVE EM HELL, LUCY. This arc has me on the edge of my seat, and I've pictured hundreds of different scenarios – none of which are very pleasant, mind you, but ALAS, I can only hold out the hope that Mashima will see them safely through. Again, my deepest apologies for the shamefully late update, and I can only hope the chapter made up for the wait.