Day Thirty – Accident (And Realisations)

It turned out it was true. Life really did flash before your eyes in a near death situation.

A mugging, that's what had caused it. Three men had cornered him in an alleyway, he removed his cane from his person and had started to beat him when he hadn't given them his wallet. He had put up a fight for a small amount of time, but the three of them were strong and outnumbered him. They were armed with impromptu weaponry and had thrashed the fight out of him, leaving him to die most likely.

As he had slowly lost consciousness as blood trickled from his wounds, his mind had supplied a stream of images from his life. Leaving for boarding school for the first time, riding a horse without help, his first dalliance with a farm-boy in a barnyard.

Then Gajeel had entered the stream of memories, and had dominated the experience. He remembered the first time they had met, their first kiss, their first night together, the first time Freed had confessed his love for the man. Smaller things to, like the cocky grin he had when he was issuing Freed some kind of wager, or the nights spent in their shared living room, reading or talking by the fire. Small moments of their relationship that Freed found himself adoring on reflection.

He passed out soon after.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room was disconcerting, and the pain flooding his body was vicious and unrepentant. He hissed at the sensation, and tried to distract himself somehow. The strong hands gripping his own were a good way to do that.

When he looked up, he saw a pleasant looking room. He adjusted his eyes at the open window and saw a street lit by the morning son; the street was familiar, but he was in a part of it that he didn't know. After a few moments he realised this was the same road he lived on, but a different house. Most likely, given the pain he was in, Porlyusica's house; a retired nurse that lived about three homes down from Freed.

But none of that was particularly important when compared to the fact that Gajeel was holding his hand.

He didn't seem to notice that Freed was awake, and it gave the injured man time to smile slightly. Gajeel had always been more cautious about being intimate in public than Freed – the lawyer had enough blackmail on London Police that they wouldn't go near him – so to have him openly touch him in a place not their home was a rather nice feeling. The feeling was soured when he realised why Gajeel was doing it; he was probably worried for him.

"Gajeel," Freed said, voice hoarse. It felt as though his throat were sandpaper.

"Freed," The mans head shot up, his voice tired and slightly croaky as well. "Fuck, how long have you been awake. Shit, here," He reached for a glass of water and handed it to Freed.

"Thank you," Freed smiled as he drank.

"You feeling okay. Course yer not," Gajeel cussed at himself. "Can I do anything for ya?"

"I don't think so," Freed shifted slightly as he sat up against the headboard. "Have you been here all night?"

"Couple nights. Would have been here longer but the old witch sent me away," Gajeel glared at a door, but Freed frowned.

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Six days," Gajeel said quietly, and it was clear to see that the other man had been worrying for the entire time. Freed gently ran his thumb across the palm of Gajeel's hand in a comforting gesture, and his lover tightened his grip. "What happened?"

"I was leaving my office. Some men wanted money; I didn't give it to them. I'm sure you can guess the rest," Freed sighed, looking at the expression of worry on his lover's face. "I'm okay, Gajeel. I'm alive, and I'm sure that the pain is only temporary. You really needn't worry."

"Should have walked you home or something," Gajeel muttered, and Freed sighed.

"You weren't to know," He said comfortingly. "Has it been a long week for you, without my charming company to keep you busy?"

Gajeel laughed, albeit forcefully. Freed leant over and pressed his head against Gajeel's softly, as close to a kiss that they could do in anywhere slightly public. Gajeel nuzzled into the gesture, and Freed expected that the man would join him in the bed and wrap him in his arms if possible. Gajeel had always seemed to enjoy touch, be it holding hands, kissing, or even just pressing his side against Freed's as they sat next to each other. Perhaps it made things feel real for the man; Freed wasn't going to complain whatever the reason.

"Done a lot of thinkin'" Gajeel admitted. "I ain't ready to lose ya."

"I'm not going anywhere," Freed assured him softly, stroking his hand again.

"Better fuckin' not be," Gajeel said firmly, but was smiling, and it warmed Freed's heart just a little. "Because, well, one of the things I was thinking of was…"

Freed frowned a little when he looked at Gajeel. The man may not be the most blessed when it came to words, but that wasn't what was stopping him. He was nervous about something. That was defiantly unlike Gajeel, he was a headstrong man who often thought before he acted; sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. He didn't say anything though, letting Gajeel think before he spoke again.

"Couple months ago, you said you'd marry if you could," Gajeel eventually said. "And, I realised that I'd marry you too. So, well."

He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box, which he flipped open. A simple plain ring rested inside of it, and Freed looked at it with shock as Gajeel shifted so that he was on one knee. Freed forgot the pain his body was in, looking at the piece of jewellery with wide eyes. Gajeel gave him a shockingly hopeful smile.

"I know we can't… I mean legally it won't be…" Gajeel glanced down in annoyance of himself. "I love ya, Freed. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with ya, and I was scared that I would be able to for a while. And I know we can't go it in a church, or get it done legit, but I wanna be yer husband. I wanna get married to ya. So, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Freed grinned. "Oh fuck yes."