Before Bickslow even got a chance to react, Lucy had pulled back after leaving her lips pressed to his for just a short moment, and as soon as she did, her face went a bright red as she realised just what she'd done.

She couldn't believe she'd just kissed Bickslow, and she didn't entirely know why she had in the first place. But holy fucking hell, it wasn't like she was regretting it either, because somehow, it had felt like the right thing to do in that moment.

The only problem was that Bickslow was still staring at her, his own eyes wide with shock as he kept his arms crossed behind her waist and kept her pinned to him. Lucy didn't really want to have to say sorry, but the longer he just stood there, holding her up, the more she felt like she had to.

But Bickslow really did not want her to apologise. He just was confused, and he was really just trying to figure out if it had actually happened; if she had actually kissed him. More than anything, he was just trying to figure out what he was going to do next. Did he put her down finally and just pretend it never happened? Because the way she was looking at him made it seem like it had shocked her just as much as it had him. Or, did he kiss her back?

Just what the hell was he supposed to do?

She averted her gaze then, finally breaking away from the dark red eyes with the even darker rings in the iris, and looked down slightly. She almost felt as if she'd screwed up again, like she'd screwed up the relationship she already had with Bickslow, just because her brain had decided to say to hell with it and do something that she apparently really wanted to do.

"Oh… Oh my god… I'm… I didn't…" she spluttered after a long moment of silence, her eyes wide as she finally dropped her hands from his face. It had been too long and she was certain she'd done something incredibly stupid. "I'm sor—"

Fuck it, Bickslow thought then. All it had taken was her to begin to apologise for Bickslow to make up his mind (finally), and quickly, he pushed her back into the door and tilted his head enough to capture her lips and bring her head back up. He wasn't going to let her apologise. Not for that. Ever.

And as soon as his lips touched hers, she couldn't help but let out the quietest of sighs against them and close her eyes, and let her body take over for her. Lucy hadn't been aware of how much she wanted that, not until she'd kissed him. But now, she was able to see that her own feelings were really truly hers, and she was actually glad they were there.

So as Bickslow kissed her, letting it be driven by how much he'd wanted to do it for weeks, he dropped his hands to her hips, keeping her pinned between his body and the door. He was lost to it then, only focusing on Lucy and how she was kissing him back; he could feel how much she had wanted it, because she was putting just as much passion and desire into at as he was. And at that moment, there wasn't a single doubt in either of their minds about how much they actually wanted each other.

Never in her wildest dreams did Lucy ever expect to want Bickslow (or need him, for that matter). She never expected to be pinned to a door and kissing him with everything she had like he was with her. But, she also never expected to be pregnant. Or married, sort of. Or already have a daughter. And all of that was with Bickslow, and if anyone had told her a little over a month earlier that she'd have all of that, then she would have fallen over laughing.

Never once did she expect to get thrown into the most chaotic, slightly dysfunctional, and downright weird life that she now had, but… She was learning that it wasn't all that bad. The less she fought her new life, the more she enjoyed it.

She'd learnt to embrace the chaos.

But then, there was a knock on the door she was pushed against, and she tipped her head back into it, pulling away from Bickslow as he kissed the side of her mouth before pressing his forehead against the door. "God fucking damn it," he muttered. Why the hell was there someone at the goddamn door? Why the hell did they have to interrupt?!

So with a sigh, Bickslow gently lowered Lucy to her feet once she unwound her legs from where they'd been around his hips, and stood back and gave her room to get around him. When there was another knock on the door, he rolled his eyes and finally pulled it open, except once he did, he got shoved to the side as the visitors barged in.

"Oh my god! Lucy! Are you okay?!" Erza said with a heavy sigh as she rushed past Bickslow and to the blushing blonde, throwing her arms around Lucy.

"What even happened?" Gray asked.

"Yeah, Luce!" Natsu added. "Why the hell were you in hospital?"

Bickslow could see the shock and confusion on her face as Gray and Natsu piled on top of her, leaving her completely surrounded by her team and unable to move a single muscle. And as much as Bickslow didn't particularly want any of them there, there was nothing he could do about it. He'd love to know how they found out she was in hospital in the first place, but he could find that out later.

Gently, he closed the door to the apartment, and with another sigh, he turned and headed down the hall slowly while running a hand back and forth through his hair. There was no reason for him to stay out there, and he didn't really want to, either. Besides, he was pretty much exhausted, so, he was going to take advantage of Claire looking after Ingrid for the rest of the afternoon, so that meant sleeping.

Lucy watched as Bickslow disappeared down the hall, and she waited until she was sure Bickslow was in the bedroom before she attempted to push her friends off of her. She didn't really understand why they'd come over, nor did she know how they'd found out. But, they were her friends, and they were worried about her. She didn't really want them there either, because she really was on the verge of falling asleep now that she was back home, but she had to at least indulge their worries and concern for her.

"Guys, I'm okay," she said quietly, pushing Natsu and Erza off of her as best she could once Gray had taken a step back. "Really, I'm fine. You can get off me now…" Hesitantly, they did (with a bit of help from Gray), and Lucy was able to walk over to the sink, and she grabbed a glass from the dishwasher and filled it up with water.

Erza sighed as she folded her arms. "But why were you in the hospital anyway? Are you hurt?"

"Erza, I wasn't hurt. It was just something silly, that's all. But I'm okay now. I promise."

"But what happened?" Gray asked, taking a seat on one of the stools at the counter.

"I, uh… I fainted," Lucy said quietly before she took a quick sip from the glass. "No big deal." And really, it never was a big deal, and it never would be a big deal.

"What?!" the three of them shouted together.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Calm down, alright?" she said, and she didn't hide how irritated she was getting, either. She just didn't have enough energy to put up with it. "It was a stupid mistake, so can you all please just stop freaking out? I've already had enough of that today, and really"—she paused briefly to wave a hand down her body as she took a step back from the sink—"I'm okay. Nothing is wrong and I'm completely fine." Well, as fine as she's going to get, considering she was pregnant. But she was okay with that. She really was.

There was a moment of silence as they all stared back at her, still a little concerned about her health, and just a tiny bit scared of her, having sensed the rising level of annoyance within the blonde.

"But… you could have hit your head—" Erza started, only to be cut off by Lucy with a menacing look.

"Erza," she said in warning. "I didn't hit my head."

"You could have…" Gray added quietly.

"But I didn't." And then Lucy turned to Natsu, because surprisingly, Natsu had said the least. She raised an eyebrow when he saw the confused expression on his face and watched him look around the apartment with interest. "Natsu, what is it?" she asked quietly.

Natsu's brow furrowed even further as he turned in his spot, looking down the hall, and then to the lounge, and then back to the kitchen and dining side, and up to Lucy. "Don't you usually have a kid—"

"Ingrid."

"Yeah, that's the one," he said and shrugged it off. "Isn't she usually here?"

"Well, yeah—"

"Oh my god," Erza interjected suddenly. "Where's Ingrid? Did something happen to her?!"

Lucy groaned in annoyance as she placed the glass back down on the bench and slowly headed towards the door. She was quickly running out of patience with her team, and had she not been so tired, she probably wouldn't have been getting so easily irritated by them… But today, she just couldn't deal with them.

With her hand resting on the handle, she looked back to her team who were watching her in anticipation, and said, "Ingrid's fine. She's being looked after by someone else at the moment, because right now, I really need to sleep, and I can't do that with a six-month old." Then, she twisted the handle and pulled the door open, leaving it wide open. "Now, I know you guys are worried, but you don't have to be. But please, I really need to go and get some rest, so if you wouldn't mind…"

There was another long moment of silence as they all stared back her, before they slowly began to shuffle towards the open door. "Are you sure we don't have to be worried?" Gray asked quietly as he crossed the threshold and made it into the hall.

"I'm sure," she said softly with a small smile. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow or something, alright?" And when they all nodded and smiled back at her in understanding, she gently closed the door behind her.

It had only been a short conversation, but she felt as if it had drained the last of her energy. She oh so desperately needed to get some rest before she passed out from just exhaustion alone, so sluggishly yet as quickly as she could manage, she carried herself down the hall, and as soon as she'd made it into the dark bedroom, she kicked off her flats by the edge of the bed. Once her head had hit the soft pillow, she sighed in contentment and closed her eyes.

"How did they even know I was in hospital?" she asked quietly, the side of her face pressed into the pillow as she rolled onto her side and slowly opened her eyes again.

Bickslow opened his own eyes as he lazily pushed himself to lie more on his side to face Lucy. "I have no idea," he mumbled. Then, after a moment of just looking at Lucy, blinking slowly, he lifted his arm up and whispered, "Come here." He didn't know if he was making things weirder than they already were, but… Over the last few days, he'd really enjoyed being able to hold her close.

After a moment's hesitation, Lucy shuffled across the mattress and closed the distance between them, letting his arm drape over her waist as she lifted her head and pulled her pillow closer to where she now lay. Even though she didn't know where she stood with Bickslow now, she still liked being close to him. None of that had changed, regardless of how awkward things felt between them, because they could both see that something was there; there was something there but neither wanted to be the one to bring it up. Neither wanted to screw up what they already had by going into something that neither really expected to happen.

But Lucy could worry about all of that later, and so could Bickslow. What they felt for each other wasn't as important as how much they both needed to sleep, because without sleep, they would make terrible decisions.

So with a soft smile on her lips, Lucy made herself comfortable as Bickslow's arm around her pulled her in even closer. She could already feel herself drifting off to sleep as she closed her eyes again, and for the first time in nearly four days, Lucy wasn't really worried about anything. Because in that moment, she felt safe, warm, and most of all, happy.

And that was because of Bickslow.

Bickslow was the first to wake up later that evening, and as he slowly did so, he rolled onto his back gently, leaving one arm under Lucy as the one that had been over her rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't expected to actually stay like that, holding her, but apparently they had – for as long as he'd been asleep, anyway. It wasn't like it felt bad though, because honestly, it was nice. Bickslow was glad that Lucy was comfortable enough to stay like that.

Granted, they'd woken up in a slightly more awkward and unfortunate position before (which Bickslow was still mortified by), and since he'd been sleeping in the bed rather than on the lounge, there were definitely times they'd woken up closer than where they'd gone to sleep, which in most cases was on the outer edges of the bed. If they were asleep, they couldn't really do much about it.

Bickslow reached out to grab his phone from the nightstand and fiddled with the cord, trying to unplug it so he could lift it up and look at the screen. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust once he looked at the bright screen and the text on the lock screen.

6:42PM

23 missed calls.

9 unread messages.

He wasn't the least bit surprised to see that eighteen of those calls were from Mira, one from an unknown number, two from Laxus, one from Erza, and another from Gajeel. The messages were from the same people too: Mira screaming at him in all capitals about why he wasn't answering his phone, Laxus asking what happened with Lucy (how he knew anything was wrong was still beyond Bickslow), another from Gajeel letting him know that Levy and the twins would be leaving the hospital in the morning so they could bring Lily back once they were home. It was only at that point though that Bickslow realised he'd forgotten they'd brought Lily back with them after they'd left the hospital that morning.

After scrolling through the rest of the messages, clearing the call log, and skimming over a few of his various accounts to see if there was anything new and entertaining to read (because really, most of the things he saw on his social networking accounts were just people bitching about other people or their jobs, and it was highly amusing to Bickslow, even though he understood almost none of it), he gently placed his phone back on the nightstand and turned his attention back to Lucy, who was leaning on his arm.

He found himself in a bit of dilemma. On one hand, Lucy still looked like she was fast asleep, and she looked too peaceful to wake her up. Besides, she needed her rest (like, legit, doctor's orders), and Bickslow didn't want to disturb that. On the other hand, though, he needed to go and pick up Ingrid from Claire, since it was already getting late and Ingrid would be going to bed for the night soon. That, and Bickslow didn't particularly like the fact that over the last few days, they'd been almost too happy to have other people look after her while they deal with their own problems, and that wasn't okay.

But if he had to choose between Lucy and Ingrid in the current situation, he'd choose Ingrid, just because they'd been asleep all afternoon. Lucy could sleep later.

So gently, Bickslow pulled his arm free from where it was under Lucy, and he remained still for a moment as she shifted slightly, getting comfortable once again and seemingly remaining asleep. Bickslow was a little confused as to how she'd stayed asleep, but hey, if it didn't wake her, then it was kind of a win for him. But, he was probably going to wake her up on purpose once he'd gotten Ingrid back, just because if she stayed asleep, she'd end up staying awake all night and then she'd be tired during the day, and she'd probably have a hard time looking after Ingrid if she was exhausted.

Besides, he didn't particularly want to be making any more trips to the hospital any time soon.

After quietly slinking out of the room, Bickslow ran a hand through his hair haphazardly, and as he walked down the hall and towards the door just ahead, he switched the appropriate lights on for the hall and living area on as he walked past them, bathing the large room in even more light and making the city below and around them seem almost dark in comparison, with the blue and green lights in every other window.

A quick knock on the door to Claire and Mark's apartment just opposite their own, and soon, Bickslow was greeted by the sight of the older woman, her hair in a tight bun atop her head, and Ingrid in her arms, yawning. "Hello, Bickslow," she said cheerfully.

"Hey," he replied, smiling as he looked at Ingrid. "Sorry, I would have come over earlier to take her off your hands, but, yeah… Only just got up then."

"Oh it's no problem at all," Claire said with a bright smile as she gently held Ingrid out to Bickslow, and once he had her with her head against his shoulder, Claire turned and went back into the apartment to gather up Ingrid's things. Looking over her shoulder as she put them all into the large bag, she said, "Ingrid's a delight compared to my two boys. Those two were an absolute nightmare growing up. Of course, one of them now has his own little nightmares to look after, so I do enjoy watching him suffer just a little bit."

"I know she's not like, extremely difficult or anything." Or maybe she was, and Bickslow was just biased because he loved her too much. It wasn't like Bickslow had experience with difficult children (or children in general for that matter), but he didn't think Ingrid was anything other than a delight to look after, as Claire had called her. The more they learned about being a parent and fell into a natural sort of rhythm and routine, the easier it got, so really, Bickslow didn't think Ingrid was anything close to being difficult… for the most part, at least. "But still, I'm sure you had better things you could have been doing all afternoon," he mumbled, taking the bag from Claire and swinging it over his shoulder.

She shrugged as she followed Bickslow back to her door. "It really is fine, Bickslow," she said. Then, as she stood in the doorway with one hand on the edge of the door and the other on the frame, she cleared her throat and as Bickslow turned back to look at her, an eyebrow arched curiously, she mumbled, "But speaking of little nightmares… Mark might have said something about the two of you expecting another?"

"Oh… Uh…" Bickslow didn't really know how to respond to that. Telling Gajeel, Levy, and Mira had been something else, because they were their actual friends, and besides, they'd only found out because they were pressuring Bickslow at the time. With Claire, though… It wasn't like she wasn't really a friend, because she kinda was. It was just that Bickslow wasn't sure if they were actually telling anyone else about the baby, now that they were keeping it.

But what if Lucy decided she really didn't want to keep it though? What if she hadn't actually meant it, and that her exhaustion had just made her confused and made her think that that was what she really wanted?

No, that couldn't be it, Bickslow thought. Lucy had seemed far too excited for that (just like he had been), so surely, that was what she really wanted. It had to be. Of course, he'd still have to find out later, just to make sure. He needed to know that she'd meant it, and it hadn't just been the exhaustion speaking.

Besides, though, Bickslow kind of wanted to tell Claire. She basically already knew, and Bickslow assumed it had been when Mark had called her and asked her to watch Ingrid so they could get some much needed rest (which, really, Bickslow was incredibly thankful for, because no matter how much coffee he'd had that morning, he'd fallen asleep relatively quickly). It wasn't like Claire would have anyone else to tell, anyway, because Bickslow didn't think she knew anyone that they also knew.

So really, was there any problem in actually confirming it?

Nodding as the corners of his mouth pulled up into a grin, he finally said, "Yeah, we are." Hell, it felt weird saying 'we' considering he knew that they weren't really together or anything, but still, it was kind of true; they were expecting another baby.

"Ah, congratulations then!" Claire beamed, a wide smile on her face. "I didn't think you two were planning on having another baby so soon after Ingrid."

"Uh… Well, we weren't…" he mumbled. It was true, and he had a feeling it would've been true for their other selves, too.

She chuckled as she took a step forward and looked at Ingrid, and as she wiggled her fingers just in front of her nose and Ingrid giggled, she said, "Well, sometimes, the things we don't plan for end up being the ones that make you the happiest." Then, as she straightened up and Ingrid returned her head to Bickslow's shoulder, she said with another light chuckle, "Ingrid knows that, don't ya, Ingrid?"

Bickslow could only look back at Claire with confusion. It was almost as if she was saying Ingrid had been unplanned, and until then, that had never crossed his mind. It wasn't like it really mattered whether or not she was, but hell, Bickslow was kind of curious. Maybe he'd see what Lucy thought… About both of them, actually.

"Yeah, well…" he mumbled, lifting up Ingrid just a little bit higher and readjusting the shoulder strap of the bag before he looked back up to Claire. "Anyway, thanks again for watching her," he said. Then, turning away slightly as Claire took a step back into her apartment, he added, "And tell Mark I said thanks, too, alright?"

Claire nodded as she began to close the door. "Will do. Enjoy the rest of your night, Bickslow."

"You too," he said, smiling slightly as he turned and headed for his own apartment, and as Claire's door closed and Bickslow reached his own, he looked down to Ingrid as he made sure he was holding her steadily in the one arm. "How about we go wake up Cosplayer?"

Lucy looked up from her book and over her shoulder briefly as she heard the bathroom door open and saw Bickslow walk into the room slowly, shrugging the baseball tee he usually slept in over his head. As Bickslow walked over to the light switch by the door to the hall, she returned her focus to the book and as Lucy made herself comfortable again, her head propped up in her hand as she lay on her side with the book on another pillow, she turned the page with her free hand and began to read the first line of words on the page.

She was so close to the end of the book with just a few pages left, and until she got it finished, she was going to ignore Bickslow because no doubt, once he climbed into the bed, he'd probably try and talk to her about the baby, which in all fairness, she had been hoping Bickslow wouldn't bring up. Ever since their, well… kiss (or kisses, actually), they hadn't actually talked about it.

Or anything, really.

Basically, since waking up, their evening had been uneventful. Bickslow went and got Ingrid from Claire, they then played with Ingrid for a bit before Bickslow went about her bedtime routine and put her down to sleep, dinner (which for Lucy was really just toast, because she still didn't feel very well at all), Lucy had a shower, Bickslow argued with Laxus over the phone as to why he'd had to leave work to go to the hospital in the middle of a meeting (which Lucy felt a little bad over), and then she retreated to the bed to finish her book while Bickslow had his own shower.

They'd both been avoiding talking about the new issues they were confronted with: one being the baby, and two being just where the hell they stood as a couple.

Or not a couple, because they weren't one. They were just Bickslow and Lucy. Not Bickslow and Lucy together… even though they were kinda married and kinda had a kid and were kinda having another kid.

And totally had feelings for each other.

It was just all too confusing, and it was part of the reason they were so good at avoiding things for as long as possible. Besides, it was kind of hard to have their own lives (whether they be together or not was a completely different issue entirely) when they were forced into keeping up the pretence of their old lives. Or, in that case, their counterpart's lives.

But she was so close to the end of the book, and ninety-eight percent of it had been driving her insane. Lucy just needed to finish it, because she still needed to know whether the guy got the girl in the end and vice versa, because the fair majority of it had been the main characters dodging their feelings. And it was a little ironic that it was similar to the situation that she was in then, and that the book had essentially been based on their lives.

Right then, though, she just really wanted to see what happened in the last few pages, because for some reason, she felt like if the book ended like how she so desperately wanted it to, then maybe, just maybe, whatever she actually had with Bickslow could work. You know, if he wanted it to, because there was a part of Lucy that really wanted to explore that, and she wanted to explore the idea of a relationship with Bickslow.

"So…" Bickslow said quietly as he rolled onto his side with his posture almost mimicking Lucy's with his head supported by his hand, and his other arm resting on his side over the blanket. "Can—"

But then Lucy shushed him, turning the page again without looking up. She knew he would talk, but she was still wasn't ready to talk.

The book was more important right then.

So after staring at Lucy in confusion for a moment as he tried to figured out just what had happened in the space of roughly five and a half hours to give Lucy a reason to actually shush him before he could really say anything, Bickslow sighed and rolled onto his back, grabbing another pillow and propping his head and neck up with them as he reached for his phone on the nightstand again.

But then, only after a few more minutes of silence with the occasional page turn being heard, or Bickslow's chuckle as he read or watched something moronic and right up his alley, Lucy's quiet voice broke the silence, and Bickslow had been just about ready to have a heart attack until he realised she was reading from the book. He'd no idea what she was talking about.

"…and as she finally tore her gaze away from the star-filled night sky and the abundantly bright fireworks display coming from the guild on the other side of the town, she turned around to see the one person she never expected to be standing behind her; she saw him. And so many unexpected things had happened over the last year that it was strange that seeing him standing there in the same place their story had begun was the most unexpected of all. But really, was it that surprising? She asked herself. She'd been there to think; she'd needed to think about how she was going to handle things; she'd needed to think about what she was going to do about him. So maybe, just maybe, he'd been there for the same reason she had been.

"But as soon as she saw him, she knew she was done thinking. She was done running and pretending that how she felt wasn't the truth. No more avoiding it and no more putting it off and pretending it wasn't there.

"'I love you,' she said quickly, before he could even get a word in. Her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour as she stood there, just watching, waiting for something to happen. But he just stared at her, almost in disbelief. The sounds of the fireworks were drowned out by the blood rushing in her ears, but even if she wasn't so anxiously waiting for something – for him to tell her that she shouldn't love him, perhaps – she wouldn't have been listening, because in that moment, nothing else mattered; it was just them standing on the rooftop where everything had begun.

"But he continued to stare, and when she was beginning to feel stupid again, she quickly looked down at her hands as she laced her fingers together, begging herself to not let the tears that were filling her eyes fall, and as clearly as she could, she said, 'I'm sorry… I just—'

"And then she was cut off as his fingers reached out to touch her chin and tilt her head up, and almost instantly, all of her worry and self-hatred for saying something so silly disappeared as his lips touched hers.

"'Never apologise,' he murmured against her lips, his hands pulling her closer. 'Not for that.' Of all the things she could be apologising for, he never wanted it to be that; he never wanted her to have to apologise for loving him, because he would never apologise for loving her.

"For months, he'd wanted to tell her how he felt, just because he felt it would stop the distance that had been growing between them with each passing day. But it was risky, and it was why he hadn't. Each day, they would grow further and further apart because neither could admit and accept their own feelings – to each other, let alone to themselves.

"But the further apart they got, the more he'd wanted to say it. He didn't want to lose her, but he didn't want to run from it anymore. It was scary, and it was taking a giant risk telling her. Either he told her and the distance between them finally closed, or he told her, and that was the end, and more than anything, he wanted it to be the former.

"He'd known she'd be up on the rooftop, and it was why he'd been there. He'd needed to tell her how he felt; he'd needed to take that risk. But then, she'd said the words he'd wanted to hear for so long. She'd said the words he wanted to say, and suddenly, there was no risk involved. He could only stare in disbelief, in shock, because he wasn't sure if he'd been imagining it.

"But she was going to apologise. And he couldn't have that. So then he'd kissed her, just because it had always been the only way to get her to shut up.

"'I love you, too,' he said quietly after watching a single tear roll down her cheek, and as he brushed it away with his thumb and lightly pressed his lips to hers again, he whispered, 'I always loved you.'"

Bickslow stared wide-eyed at Lucy as she looked down to the now closed book, her face a mask of confusion. In a way, she was glad the book ended happily where the guy gets the girl and vice versa, but she was confused. It was her old life. It was their old life, and for the last two-hundred-odd pages, she'd been frustrated that the two main characters had been avoiding their feelings for each other, and she had to admit that the ending was nice because it was essentially going full-circle in the space of a year.

But she was confused, because the two main characters were based on herself and Bickslow, and for a moment, it had felt like he was actually telling her he loved her, and that was something she really did not want.

Besides, he wouldn't say something like that to her, because he didn't even feel that way anyway. It was just a book.

It was fiction.

So rolling onto her back to place the now finished book on her nightstand, she mumbled, "Interesting…" Because really, it was the only word that came to mind to describe what she'd just read out loud.

Bickslow, on the other hand, he was still confused as all hell. He already knew the book was about them – loosely, sort of – but hell, what was that ending? What the fuck was that about? Why the hell was there romance involved? He didn't do romance. Hell, he didn't fucking love Lucy, either. He didn't even have any feelings at all for her in that world and in that life.

Well, honestly, that was debatable, but Bickslow wasn't going to focus on that.

The point was that it made no sense. And sure, he knew it was a book, and that none of it was real, but still, 'I always loved you' was not something he would say – ever. In any world, whether it be real or fiction.

Unless it wasn't his character that said it.

Of course! It had to have been someone else. Bickslow's character would never say something like that to Lucy's character.

"Glad Natsu's character finally manned up and said it," he chuckled, returning his focus to his phone in his hands. It had to have been Natsu's character. Bickslow had read enough of it to know that there was a stupid Dragon Slayer in the story, and with everyone believing that Natsu and Lucy had been bound to end up together at some point anyway (at least before they'd all moved to that world), it just had to have been him. Who else would say that they'd always been in love with her?

"Wasn't Natsu," she replied quietly.

He turned his head to look back to Lucy and he arched a brow. If it wasn't Natsu, then who else would it be? "Gray, then?" he asked. If not Natsu, then it had to be Gray.

"Nope."

"Loke?"

"No."

Bickslow had already run out of ideas. Those three were the only ones that anyone ever expected Lucy to actually have any feelings for. He knew he could just drop the entire thing, but for some reason he was curious. The book had started off with being about them, but obviously, it hadn't ended that way. So rolling onto his side once again with his head propped up by the pillows now, he asked quietly, "Who then?"

And Lucy briefly wondered if she should make Bickslow realise it on his own, but she reasoned that it would take too long. The answer was right there in front of him (hell, she'd quite literally read out loud one of the biggest hints, and that being the rooftop), yet he still didn't realise. Lucy wanted Bickslow to be as confused as she was without having an entirely valid reason, and if he didn't know that it was his character that had said it, then she'd never know if it had as much of an effect on him that it did her.

So without hesitation, she turned her head to the side to look at Bickslow and see the small smirk on his lips as he patiently awaited her answer. "You," she said quietly and simply.

"Eh?" was all he could get out as the smirk instantly disappeared. He was even more confused now. How could it have been him? How the fuck could Lucy's character having gone from calling him an idiotic womanising ass to being in love with him? How the fuck could his character have always been in love with her?

Just what in the world happened after he'd stopped reading it?

He'd have to find out, that was for sure. But he wasn't going to do that tonight. He had more important things to find out tonight, and besides, it was just a book. He didn't really have a reason to be freaking out about his character having apparently always been in love with Lucy's character. No reason at all.

So as he dropped his phone down onto the mattress just in front of him, he rubbed his hands across his face, as if to physically force himself to move on from the topic of the book. "Right, well. Weird book," he muttered.

"I guess so," she mumbled, rolling onto her side to face Bickslow again. She'd had a feeling of relief wash over her when she saw Bickslow's reaction to the ending of the book, but now that relief was gone. Because just like their characters were done running and avoiding things, Lucy and Bickslow were done putting off a few things that they both knew could not be avoided any longer as well. Or at least Lucy hoped that was the case. At least a little bit. So meeting his gaze, quietly, she asked, "So, um, what is it you were going to say when you came in before?"

It took Bickslow a moment to actually remember what it was he was going to say, but then as he remembered, he sat up and with his legs crossed under him, and turned to face Lucy once again. "Yeah, look… About the baby…" he mumbled. "Are you sure that you really want to keep it?"

And Lucy had half expected it to be about the baby, but not as to whether or not she wanted to keep it. She could feel the dread within her rise with each second, because for some reason, she almost felt as if Bickslow didn't want to keep it, and it hurt a bit, because she'd been so sure that what she wanted had been the same thing he wanted.

But now, she wasn't so sure that that was the case.

"Why would you ask that?" she asked, trying her hardest to keep how much she was worrying out of her voice and off her face. She couldn't let Bickslow see or hear that, especially if she was worrying for a good reason.

"Because it's a big thing, and I don't want you to regret any decisions when it's too late to do anything…" He paused when Lucy pulled herself up into a sitting position, pushing the pillows back up against the headboard before she looked down at her hands in her lap. It wasn't like Bickslow wanted to be having that conversation any more than Lucy did, but it had to be done anyway. "I mean, we were exhausted, and… And people say and do stupid things when they're tired…"

"So you think that all of it was stupid?"

"God no, I just…" he replied quickly, suddenly aware that they weren't really just talking about the baby anymore. He didn't think any of it was stupid in the slightest. "I just want to make sure that it's what you really want."

Lucy looked up then and towards Bickslow once again. "I know what I want," she whispered, shrugging slightly. "But I don't know what you want."

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"Yes, it does, because I don't want to keep it if you're going to hate me for it," she snapped.

"Why would I…?" Bickslow was almost at a loss for words. He didn't see how she could think he would hate her if she really did want to keep it. Unless, of course his little speech about saying stupid things had made her think that he didn't to keep it. And really, that was the last thing he'd wanted Lucy to think, because he had been trying so hard to keep what he wanted out of it. It was about what Lucy wanted, not him, because in the long run, Lucy was the priority. She was the one who was pregnant; she would be the one that had to put up with everything (and it wasn't like she would be doing it alone, because Bickslow would help her through everything as best he could).

But maybe that's what she was afraid of the most, and why she thought he would hate her. Maybe Lucy was worried that he wouldn't actually be there for her. Maybe she was worried that he'd hate her too much and he'd leave.

Bickslow honestly didn't know what was running through her mind, but from the look in her eyes – the smallest of flickers of hurt and worry – he knew he was at least close.

Quickly, he leant forward from where he sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug. "Shit, Lucy, I could never hate you for that," he mumbled by her ear. "I could never hate you for anything, actually."

"Would you be mad at me if I still wanted to keep it?"

"Nope," he said with a small smile as he leant back again, leaving his hands just below her shoulders. "I'm not gonna hate you, I'm not gonna be mad, I'm not gonna leave or do anything idiotic if that's what you really want to do."

She nodded slowly, already feeling a little bit of that worry and fear within her disappear. Bickslow wasn't going to hate her, he wasn't going to be mad, and he wasn't going to leave. Lucy had lived in such close quarters with him long enough to know that he was a terrible liar. It didn't help that he rarely found a reason to, but that was irrelevant, because right then, Lucy knew he wasn't lying. She had needed to hear those reassuring words, and he'd said them.

It was just that there was still a part of her that worried about the possibility of Bickslow realising that another baby that neither of them had planned on being stuck with was something he didn't want. And that was one thing she really wanted to know the answer to, because even though she knew he would still stay by her side if she still wanted to keep it (which, she did; very much so), she wanted to know that Bickslow would really be okay with it.

She wanted to know if Bickslow wanted the baby as much as she did, because seeing his excitement earlier in the day was something that had made her happy. She wanted to see that again, if it were possible.

"But do you still want to keep the baby? Because I got the feeling earlier that you did," she said, finally looking up again. She'd so desperately wanted to mumble it, because there was a part of her that was scared of the answer (like she had been earlier), but she knew she couldn't. She needed to be clear and she needed to be confident.

Or try to, at least.

"Why are you so still so set on knowing what I want? It doesn't matter, because it's about you, not me."

Lucy shook her head then. "It's not just about me, Bickslow. It's about us." And when he arched a brow in slight confusion, she felt her face heat up and she internally cursed herself. It wasn't particularly the best time for her to use that word, but it had to be said, because it was just the best word available. "You say you won't hate me or be mad at me or anything, and I believe you, but I still need to know that this is what you want, too. I already rely on you now way too much as it is, and I am so, so thankful that you're letting me do that, but there's no way in hell I can do this on my own. I just… As silly and stupid as it is, I want you to love this baby as much as you love Ingrid, and I need to know that you'll be happy with it all, because I don't want you to stay by my side and with Ingrid just because you feel like you have to."

Lucy finally looked down again, partly to hide her blush that wasn't leaving any time soon, Bickslow sat back on his heels, and he dropped his hands from her shoulders and one hand rubbed the back of his head idly. He hadn't particularly been expecting that kind of response in the slightest, but hell, it kind of made sense. Of course she needed to know what he wanted to do, because if she was left guessing, she'd assume he'd stay just because he loved Ingrid.

And really, that wasn't the case at all. He'd stay because he loved Ingrid and the unborn baby, and because he cared about Lucy. The fact that there was an expectation to stay because in that world they were married, and that they were still putting on that front when it came to certain people was irrelevant. Their counterpart's lives didn't matter in the slightest, because to Bickslow, they were no longer their lives.

The only problem then was that Lucy apparently didn't see any of that; she didn't quite see that Bickslow had done all of what he'd done because he cared for Lucy. He liked being there for her, and he liked that she could rely on him of all people. Not her team or her other friends, but him. Granted, Bickslow had kept just what he wanted away from Lucy, so it wasn't all that surprising that she'd be worried about him not wanting to keep the baby. Plus, it probably didn't help that he'd gone on the entire 'people say and do stupid things when they're exhausted' spiel. Bickslow stood by what he said, though. He didn't think any of it was stupid.

"Ah, well… Fuck…" he muttered after a while, looking down to the sheets he'd tangled his legs up in when he'd moved.

Lucy could feel her own heart sink as he spoke, and she was preparing herself for hearing Bickslow say that he didn't really want her to keep the baby, and that his joy earlier had just been his exhaustion taking control.

"I kinda already do."

She looked up then, and when she saw the smirk on his face, she found herself confused. "What?" she asked.

Bickslow shrugged, dropping the hand that had been rubbing the back of his head to his knee. "You said you want me to love the kid as much as I love Ingrid, and I kinda already do," he said, and when Lucy's face remained mostly blank, continuing to stare at him in apparent shock and most likely a little bit of confusion, he began to chuckle.

Then quickly, Bickslow leant forward again, and with his arms around her back, he managed to lean backwards, pulling her from where she sat with her legs folded with a squeak at the unexpectedness of what Bickslow had done, and then rolled them onto their sides with his arms still around her.

And it was enough to break Lucy from her apparent daze, so ignoring the position they were in and how close they actually were, with her hands flat against his chest and tucked in to her own body, she looked up and into Bickslow's deep red eyes, and quietly, she whispered, "Does that mean you want to keep the baby too?"

"Yeah, it does," he said with a smile. "Are you sure that you really want—" But then he was cut off as Lucy lightly pressed her lips to his, and when she pulled away after just a short moment, leaving her fingers lightly tracing over his jaw, he mumbled, "Oookay…" Because really, that was all he could think of then. The second time in a day where she'd kissed him without expecting it, and hell, he was beginning to like it. A lot.

"Please stop asking me that," she whispered. She'd needed a way to silence him then and there, and kissing him had seemed like the best way of doing so. And honestly, she could see herself forming a very bad habit. Ahe could see herself wanting to kiss Bickslow a lot, because she already did want to, and it was because somehow, it felt right.

Of course, though, there were probably worse things she could be getting addicted to so quickly, so she reasoned that Bickslow wasn't one of them. Wanting to kiss Bickslow would be a habit she wouldn't entirely call bad.

"Answer it this once and I'll stop asking it," he replied just as quietly, and when she nodded just barely after a moment from where she lay, her face just a mere inch away from his, he asked, "Are you sure that this is what you really want?" Because it was still a big thing. Having another baby was a huge thing and Bickslow wanted to make sure that Lucy was really aware of that. He just really didn't want her to be panicking and regretting her – their – decision a few months down the track.

Ingrid was one thing, but having another baby was entirely different.

They had a choice with that baby.

But it was an easy question to answer, because Lucy still hadn't changed her mind. The fact she'd been exhausted earlier hadn't made a difference, because deep down, she'd known right from the beginning that she wanted to keep the baby. "I'm sure," she said quietly and with a small smile of her own.

Sure, she was terrified beyond all belief, but knowing that it was what Bickslow wanted and that he was going to be there because it was what he wanted was making it already just a little bit easier. She wasn't going to be alone, and that's what she needed.