Losing Touch


Chapter Twenty-Eight

He was overwhelmed by it, a scent that hadn't filled his senses for years, and he was bathed in it.

Her blood.

With bated breath and a helpless desperation, he'd wanted to divert his gaze until he'd found her; but he couldn't peel it away from his trembling, crimson-stained hands. "What the hell… happened here?" He'd heard his voice waver in a way that he hadn't felt it do since the war; since he'd almost lost his wife to the black dragon. He knew the scent of her suffering and he couldn't ignore what his senses screamed into his sensitive ears. His tone rose with accelerated anguish. "Where are you? Neirah!?"

Finally, his body was his again and it was instinctually turning to face a bleak sight. His heart pummelled against the walls of his chest until he was sure the inside had bruised. "Alex?" The young boy stood in front of him, his mother lying behind his small body. Laxus' gaze shot between Alex and where his motionless wife had lain in a bloody heap on the ground. Alex's expression was ghastly as he stared back at his father through wet eyes so wide that he'd nearly lost his pupils.

"You lied…"

"Alex..."

"Mom… Mom was a wizard… S-she was a wizard all along!"

Laxus flinched, desperate to barrel past his son towards his wife but unable to release his body a second time. "Alex… you don't understand…"

"Why, Dad?" the boy mewled lifelessly. "Why did you do it?"

Laxus' expression twisted with mortification as he glanced his filthy, trembling hands. 'No… There's no way!'

"Why did you kill mom?"

Even though he was rising rather swiftly in bed, he couldn't escape the sensation of falling. He couldn't keep his stomach where it was supposed to be, knot-free and settled. He panted for a moment in the dark room, too afraid to let his gaze wander from where it was immediately opened to the sight of their bedroom door cracked ever slightly to let a thin beam of light shine through the room.

He hadn't had the chance to blink before his gaze was sliding swiftly to his quivering, upturned palms. He'd finally closed his mouth to settle his breathless wheezing as he felt the anchor of reality settle. "It was… just a dream…" He had become so used to nights without such a bleak visitation that it had startled him. He'd blinked, ready to slowly adjust his gaze to where the light from the crack in his bedroom door shone over his wife's side of the bed. Highlighted by the soft glow, safe and smiling in her sleep, laid his tiny wife against her pillow.

Laxus' immobility subsided as he drew his hand to his face before raking tense fingertips back over his head. "Shit…" he murmured bleakly.

He laid his sweat-soaked face in both hands, drawing his knees towards his chest. His stomach still rolled in agony for the vision he was forced to endure moments before. Although short, it was a terrible dream to interrupt his desperate attempt at sleep.

After a moment of catching his breath, he'd quietly shifted in their bed to where his feet had met the floor. He'd hoped it would help him to restore his balance. He rested one palm on his knee while the other rubbed at his aching nape. The cuts on his body had been healed, the lashes, the bulk of the bruises, but the pain was still there to remind him of the night before.

His darling wife, the wildcat.

He'd felt the need to smile as he looked over his forearm to where his wife still hadn't disturbed to his distress, but he didn't. He wasn't in the mood to smile. She was weakening. The night before he'd watched her feign strength as she healed the damage done by her bedroom games, but he could see it in her eyes; her spark fading. She wasn't what she used to be.

That didn't bother him, or rather; it wouldn't have if his paranoia were in check. He didn't care if his wife was magical, non-magical, mortal or beast. She was his. She'd always been his and that was enough.

Laxus' temples ached as the painful visions of his dreams resurfaced. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was a warning. It had made him wonder what might happen if Neirah was faced with danger in her current state, what if the danger was him? What if he wasn't strong enough to protect her? How would she defend herself if she was silently fading into motherhood? He'd never had to ask himself such a barrage of nervous questions. She had always been powerful enough to walk away from knowing that soon, they'd be reunited in good health. He believed in her…

He used to…

He reached out to his wife, his middle index knuckle tracing the curves of her smiling face without actually connecting their skin. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and draw comfort from her loving embrace, but he knew that if he tried, he would crumble.

He tore his touch away with a dismal sigh. "It was just a dream…" he repeated bleakly. He felt unsteady as he climbed to his feet, resurfacing the aches in his thighs from their games. He was as careful as a man his size could be as he crossed the room and let himself into their ensuite to steal a towel. Once he'd grabbed one, he shouldered the fabric and quietly left his bedroom.

It was far too early in the morning for anyone else in the house to be up but he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep in his current state. Not only had he been rattled pretty good by his nightmare but sleeping sweaty wasn't exactly comfortable either. He managed to make his way to the first floor of their home without the feeling of someone trailing him. If nothing else, that filled him with some relief. He figured that both his wife and son had slipped into a pretty deep sleep by four in the morning.

He gently shut himself into the first-floor bathroom, careful not to peek his reflection in the mirror as he blinded himself with the light in the room. He groaned his weary impatience before starting up the shower. It was the moment he stepped beneath the water and scalded his aching shoulder that he knew it was going to be a long day…


Neirah woke up uncomfortable, startled when she noticed that her husband wasn't by her side. She knew he was getting into the habit of trying to escape her some nights but even unconsciously, he'd almost always ended up returning to her side again. Her brow knotted as she laid her hand gently on his empty side of the sheets, alarmed that they had already cooled. He had been missing for quite some time.

With a heavy heart, she quietly rose from bed, ignoring the clock ticking just past six in the morning. She slipped on a child-friendly gown and slowly opened her bedroom door. She stopped part way down the hall to inspect her son's room, just as relieved as she was concerned. The boy was still in bed which meant something else had woken her husband and drawn him from their warm blankets.

She padded softly down the stairs and peeked around the corner to the sight of her shirtless husband having a silent argument with the coffeemaker. A solemn smile curled her lips as she approached the sound of his curses. A part of her had worried he'd grown addicted to the coffee he'd never used to drink, but in a way, she supposed it was better for him than the alcohol that he'd used to consume before ten in the morning.

She reached out and laid her hand over his on the carafe. "It's ok, daddy. I've got it."

Laxus retracted his skin away from hers even more quickly than it had collided. He swiftly turned away from her concerned expression as soon as it paled with worrisome mortification. He hadn't meant to make her feel toxic and he could feel her hurting as he avoided her, but he couldn't help but estrange himself. "Thanks," he muttered grimly. He had to manage something in light of his half-conscious fumble.

Neirah's heart ached as she cleared her throat of guilt and turned on the kitchen tap. "Is something wrong?"

He notably recoiled to the sound of her tender coo over the water she was using to fill her carafe. "It's gonna sound worse than it actually is," he muttered bleakly. "I just… need to take a step back…"

Neirah's gaze waivered but she remained silent as she poured her water into the top of their coffee maker, her expression humble. She finished her task and turned sad blue eyes to where Laxus had kept his gaze diverted. "Laxus?"

She received no response.

"Laxus, look at me."

Every muscle in his body was prepared to deny her a second time, but his heart broke a little more each time her voice shuddered. Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers.

The soft smile she offered him helped to relieve the ache in his heart as she reached out and took his hands in hers. "We're having dinner tonight with my brother and his wife, are you going to be able to keep it together until then?"

He looked down at her hands in his and gave her wedding band a fidgety spin. "I'm barely keeping it together now…"

She slowly stepped into him and pressed her brow against his bare chest. "Wait until our son is out of the house, at least," she teased.

His first instinct was to shy away from her like she was searing his flesh, but instead, he ended up folding his arms around her and squeezing her with the strength of his internal frustrations. "I don't want to wait at all," he muttered quietly. "I just…"

It had happened faster than he could ever stop it, the way the glaring realisation had pierced him. He had come to a series of minor epiphanies over the past few months, but recently, they had all gathered in his heart and choked the life right out of him.

She had said she'd break him, but he hadn't expected it to be quite like the way it had. He could take the pain, he'd gotten good at managing the hunger; but something unconceivable was thrashing around inside him that he couldn't bring himself to accept.

He'd found himself craving lash over love more frequently as days went on. Even as he watched his tiny bride rise on her tiptoes to retrieve him a coffee mug from the counter, he'd felt that beast breathe life. She had started her games with curiosity, and he'd told himself the thrill of a dominant woman was trumped by nothing else.

But it wasn't true.

It had always been the little things, and although she'd caught him entirely off-guard with her risqué ambitions, the little things had remained. The way she looked wearing fluffy purple socks and his favourite flannel dress shirts. The way she hummed ridiculous children's songs while she rocked her hips and hung the laundry on the line. The way she'd tapped her nails on the painted walls of their home when she was lonely. It was all those little things that drove him mad.

He couldn't stand the way her sweet, loving smile tipped back to face him with a rosy flush in her cheeks for her struggle as she passed him a cup. It was those tender moments that had hurt the most. He immediately felt the need to bleed for even thinking the thoughts he concealed; the things he wanted to do to those bright lips, to those fuzzy, sock-covered feet. He felt sick, wild. It wasn't so hard to endure when they were in the heat of the moment, but when the hunger struck him before dawn and suffocated him with dark inspiration, he felt like a filthy animal that didn't deserve the love that shone in her eyes.

He diverted his gaze and it had taken all he had to keep from wincing as his thoughts replaced her sunny expression with the agonized grimace of painful affections rising tears on her soft cheeks. Depravity was tearing him apart from the inside out. "Maybe… I just… need a damn night of uninterrupted sleep."

That was a lie. The only thing he needed was another taste of the freedom that came with loving the most passionate and devoted soul he'd ever laid fingers upon. "I'm sorry," he muttered raggedly. He held his palm to his brow like he thought he could shove the pain in his cerebral cortex right out the back of his throbbing skull. "I'm a damn mess… I don't know what I'm saying."

Neirah's expression grew soft with apprehension. "Did something happen? You were fine a couple days ago," she defended. "Maybe a little sleepy, but-"

"It's fine," he interrupted with haste. He had to avoid her love, as bizarre as the concept seemed to be. He could feel a fever spiking in his chest hot enough to frighten him. He was slipping out of control of his ambitions and he had a sound theory that the sleep deprivation was encouraging his filter to leak. "Maybe going out tonight will help me get my shit together," he reasoned. "I mean hell, I'm a grown fucking man and all I can think about is a sex life like a thirsty, teenaged kid."

Neirah's humour lightened with his sad attempt at cracking a joke, but she could see the true concern festering behind his forced smile. "Maybe cutting you off wasn't my best idea."

"That has yet to be determined," he defended curtly. "If I live to talk about it, it'll make for one heck of a story."

Neirah snorted her amusement and retrieved a tea mug for herself. "Afraid I might get a little out of hand?"

"Afraid I might."

Neirah's expression faltered as she paused her filling of their kettle and watched him take his first relieved sip of coffee. All feigned amusement had bled out of his tone when he'd spoken and she knew the admittance held more weight to his chest than she'd wanted. "You aren't honestly starting to worry about this again, are you?"

Laxus refused to connect their gazes again. "It's different this time," he assured her calmly. "We've been on thin ice for a while. I just hope you know that."

She smiled meekly and nuzzled under his lax arm despite his tense resistance. "I know," she purred tenderly. "I've been looking forward to it."

Laxus' skin started to crawl as she reached out and took his hand in hers, placing his palm over her toned abdomen. The look of sheer terror marring his face was hard to conceal as he watched her close her eyes and hum her contentment.

"I'm ready to be a mommy again…"

Muscles in his body grew so painfully tight he thought his skin would rupture against the pressure. His head had grown airy, his sight hazy as his steady breaths grew more conspicuous with their depth. He'd wanted it just as bad, for more reasons than he could count. He wanted the intimacy back, the tenderness, the loving care, the woman who had cherished him with a dedicated passion. He wanted to feel that maternal pressure in his chest like he did the day she'd passed his son into his arms. Obscene desire aside, he wanted to finally feel what they'd been missing the first five years of their lives together.

A love without strings.

They'd always been encumbered by something, carrying burdens on both sides. Both of them had lived with shadows in their pasts, monsters in their closets. Secrets had kept them apart for years. There was always something on the back of their minds, weights, uncertainties. They had never shared such an openly unrestricted life and the only things left holding them back were cracking resolves. Once they'd finally given in to their own oaths, nothing would keep them from being one.

It had made Laxus wary to believe that it could be so easy. He couldn't conceive that such perfection could ever be his, not even when it was in arms reach. He thought he was lucky the day he'd first taken her hand. He knew it was fool's luck that saw him bound to her in matrimony. The stars were more likely to line up single file throughout the universe than he was to ever find such unhindered bliss in his mortal existence. His sullied opinion of himself was starting to fade until he was ready to believe that maybe it was ok for him to find such happiness. He wasn't perfect, but he'd worked hard and tried his damnedest to make up for his faults. He felt like finally, the years of desolation and self-loathing were starting to release him. Finally, he was staring at true peace illuminating the tunnel he prepared to exit. After years of having his happiness, his heart, being torn from within his broad chest, he finally found a light that would shine infinitely over his life.

He leant to one side and gently pressed his lips to the top of her head, quietly murmuring his words against her scalp. "I'm sorry…"

Neirah smiled bashfully and lazily intertwined their fingers against her skin. "You put up a good fight, daddy," she purred affectionately. "The next time you want me, I'm yours…"

"'So you know," he instigated. "It's taking more than I have to keep the next time from bein' now."

Neirah grinned playfully and tipped her mesmeric gaze towards his. "Oh? You have a second origin for lovemaking?"

"Don't," he cautioned edgily.

"I feel like I'll be putting that to good use before long."

Laxus groaned and pushed away from her entirely. "You're pure fucking evil…"

Neirah sniggered and folded one leg over her other, bracing her hips against the counter her husband had just pushed off. She closed her eyes and sipped her tea as she listened to his retreat. "Well you must have known going into this that not all dragons were good," she mused. "I'm not the first overbearingly bratty dragon you've encountered."

Laxus grunted as he rolled his eyes and took a pause in the kitchen doorway. "Difference is that I can't stuff you back through an eclipse gate," he snarled.

Neirah smirked over the steam billowing from her tea mug. "Odd, the first difference I would have noted is that I can't just make your clothes disappear on command."

Laxus didn't recall blood and fire ever being so undeniably synonymous in his dictionary. "Why is that the first place you'd go when I'm like this?"

She shrugged playfully to his rhetorical question. "I suppose your right. Zirconis used magic capable of stripping mortals of their dignity." She opened her eyes over the brim of her mug and stared back at him with alluring sapphire eyes sparkling affection. "After the leash and collar, it'd take a lot more than stripping you to rid you of your dignity."

Neirah flinched as she watched her husband's grip on the kitchen doorway become so impressively powerful that the timber crackled beneath statically charged fingers until she thought he'd uproot the structure entirely. But, with white-knuckled precision, he managed to pry the digits free.

"I'm headin' out early today," he assured her bluntly. "If I stay around here any longer I'm gonna lose my god-damned mind."

"What should I tell your son? You know he won't take kindly to being left behind."

Such a sickeningly innocent coo. "He'll have to stay here today," he ordered. "I'm gonna have a hard enough time takin' care of myself. I'm not fit for responsibility right now."

"By taking care of-" Neirah flinched with the swiftness of his retreat. In earnest, she hadn't seen anything but the flash of retreating light as it vanished from her comprehension and up the staircase. A few moments later, she heard their shower click on in their bedroom. Neirah hummed contentment to herself as she stared out their kitchen window with both hands wrapped around her cup. "That's odd, his hair was damp and he smelled like he'd already showered this morning."


He really hadn't meant to thunder around like a Neanderthal, but between his lack of energy and his lack of willingness to leave his house, he was dragging his feet. He was reminded of that the moment the sound of his own footsteps echoed in his ears over the hollow floorboards of the Fairy Tail guild hall.

His sigh was languid as he traced the grain of the wood with his lethargic gaze, but before he could take another step, a much smaller one was blocking his path. He slowly rolled his gaze to where Mira had taken a firm stance in front of him with her hands on her hips and a determined knot in her face. He would have flinched when she threw out one of her arms to point right back out the way he came if he of had the energy to do so.

"Alright, Mister," she commanded. "Right back out the way you came."

"Not now, Mira," he groaned through his exhaustion.

"Nope, that's it. I'm putting my foot down."

He didn't even try to hide the obvious roll of his eyes over his impatient grimace.

"You are going to march straight back home and make love to your wife!"

Laxus did flinch that time. "Not happening," he overruled. "If I do that, you won't see me again for a week. So, unless you're gonna take the rugrat for that long, I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Laxus, you dog!"

He brushed past her in confident stride on his meander through the hall, his forefinger tugging on his shirt collar to reveal his bare throat. "Collar's off, sweetheart. Petting hours are over. Last I checked, when that was the case, I'm in charge around here."

Mira whirled around to shout at his casual retreat. "I'll tell your wife!"

"Tell her what? That I'm crazy about her?" He scoffed. "Tch, give her a little more credit. She's smart as hell. She's already got that figured out-" Laxus flinched when he came to the realisation that he and Mira weren't alone. The comprehension bewildered him when he thought about someone else being privy to their racy early morning chatter. No one ever beat Mira to the guild and he had half expected to do that himself. Luckily for him, Bickslow was zonked right out in a table chair to one side of the massive hall. "The hell?"

Mira omitted a soft giggle as she rejoined his side and the two watched the slumbering Bickslow for a moment. "He and Lisanna had a bit of an argument last night."

"Over?"

Mira held her opposing elbow as she dusted her creamy cheek with the other set of fingertips. "She wouldn't let his babies sleep in the bed."

Laxus' expression paled bleakly. "Gee, they're human souls for crying out loud, not lap dogs." Mira frowned as Laxus started towards the hallway leading to his office. "Though I gotta say, I'm a little jealous of the Z's he's rackin' up over there."

Mira lifted the hems of her skirt and chased off after him. "Master, I won't ask you again," she insisted. "You look like the living dead. You don't belong at work. Even if you're not going to go home and put an end to these games, you should at least try to get some sleep."

"Can you make an effort to not call me master when talking about my fucked up sex life? The mixed signals are throwin' me off."

Mira watched her friend drop into his chair like his legs just couldn't keep him upright any longer. "Laxus," she whined.

"Don't worry about it, ok?" he pressured kindly. "Alex is gonna stay home with his mom so I don't have to do anything but waste time in here." A low growl caught in his throat as he sifted through some sheets stacked on his desk. "Who knows, with the amount of paperwork that came in this morning, I might actually be chasin' Bickslow into slumberland. Can't believe I'm actually startin' to sympathise with the old man."

"Will you at least talk to her about it tonight?"

"Hn?" He turned and faced her with a soft grunt of acknowledgement before closing his eyes and sighing. "Tomorrow," he quietly promised. "Tonight we're goin' out with her bonehead brother and Levy. I've gotta be on my best behaviour. Maybe if I'm a good boy, she'll let me wear it tonight."

"You mean the collar?"

Laxus diverted his gaze downcast. "Believe it or not, I feel saner with it on…"

"Tomorrow then," she nearly begged. "You're going to make yourself sick. And like you said, Neirah is smart. If I can see it, I know she can too. If you don't take some time to bounce back from this, she won't keep going."

"She will if I ask nicely," he challenged.

"Laxus Dreyar don't you dare take advantage of her devotion to you!"

A small smile graced his lips as he sat back in his chair and watched her worrisome expression shudder. "Don't worry," he encouraged sinisterly. "Nice and me aren't real chummy at the moment."

Mira's expression waivered hesitantly as she drew one of her balled fists between her breasts. "I don't know if you just got your second wind or if you've developed a split personality. Either way, I don't like it."

With a dark, rumbling snicker, he directed his lovely assistant toward the office entrance. "There's the door," he reminded. "Quit worrying. She knows full well I won't be able to keep this up much longer… It's gonna take all I have not to lay her out on the dinner table tonight."

"You pig," she groaned dismally.

"Has Cana been drinking all my good stuff?"

"You haven't touched it in years..."

"So that's a yes?"

Mira diverted her gaze sheepishly. "Actually, Cana has been spending a lot of her time with the Quatro Cerberus guild. Ever since she and Bacchus started going steady, they've been taking exchange jobs together more and more frequently."

Laxus snorted triumph and started to sort his paperwork. "Shoulda told me she'd drank it all."

"Laxus it's not even eight in the morning?!"

"Make it a double."

He raised his gaze for only a moment to watch as she retreated and gently shut the door behind herself.

"Looks like she's on to us."

Laxus didn't bother sparing his own sinister grin a glance over his shoulder. "We've been over this," he rumbled softly. "We're one and the same…"