Chapter 14: The Passion of Brimstone is not Often Quelled

A/N: I'm alive - or am I? I'm not too sure anymore, but I'm here so that's something.

The guild isn't sure what to say. They're stuck, staring at the two parents. Conflicted and torn and worried, minds too often filled with violence to not be mulling over the worst of scenarios.

They don't need a reminder of what could be, they've seen it.

And the worst thing, the one thing that has always been an issue that's spat in their face more often than not, is they still don't know.

They don't fully know what happened, they don't know what sort of magic had drawn Sonya awa, and they don't know who told Sting.

The easy thing would be to ask questions, and the words burn on the guild member's tongues, questions that prod for more information, forgotten evidence, curiosities on where all they looked or where they might have missed.

Dumb questions, really, when it was so obvious in the deep lines of their faces that they've been looking, putting every available moment into protecting their daughter.

And so it's turned into paranoia, into crippling anxiety where they put up every defense they can against an invisible threat.

Their only saving grace was that no one else knew. And yet Sting, petty and full of potential, knows.

Knows already, in their timeline, and will use it against them all too soon.

(They're scared to ask what sort of death it was, for them or for Sonya. Terrified of the idea that in another world Sonya died in pain. Died alone and waiting for them, screaming for them, and they'd already been too far gone to help.

They can picture it too vividly. Bright red blood, pale skin, eyes as deep as the nights sky empty and dull, a limp hand just out of reach.)

After a trembled breath, a bitten-back, buried sob rattling iron lungs, Natsu shudders an exhale.

"So, Sting," he says, throat tight. "Does he- does he know the spell?" Spell? Was it even a spell? If it were, it would have left traces, something to follow, right?

(They. don't. know.)

Heart doesn't respond at first. She purses her lips, eyes staying too low in a way that makes Ultear sneer.

They'd been hopeful and who could blame them? They were desperate parents, hoping to grab onto some semblance of hope. They needed reassurance that their daughter, their daughter, their sun and stars and everything in between, would be safe.

The world was not that kind.

"I believe so. That's what Levy thought."

Ultear clenches her jaw and swallows thickly. Of the two parents, it was her job to stay level headed. Natsu had gotten better at it over the years but it was no surprise that his emotions could still get the better out of him. He was fire, after all. Passion and love, living and breathing an intensity that she fell in love with. She was time, was ice, was slow and inevitable and willing to take her own time, be it in a slow, intimidating walk, or commanding a room with a mere breath.

This time, thought, they're both fraying at the seems.

(Sonya is her own little moon, something with its own powerful gravity, eternal is the way that everything is but almost more. The sort of thing that makes time break and fire wane.)

While Natsu's clearly struggling, the fire that burns through his veins makes his skin warm and itch, something aggressive and protective (draconic, Ultear had said when Natsu had to save her once. His eyes had been narrow, pupils slit as he growled, ash and smoke and flame spilling from his lips) welling up inside him.

Ultear, however, was none of the sort. Her anger - her fear - didn't boil over. It didn't swallow her chest in a heat of creeping lava and bubbling rage. No, her's was cold. It encompassed a layer under her skin and spread in sharp lines, cold and jagged. It burned from the inside out, tensing muscles and shooting through her in phantom pains.

It leaves her tense but stoic, cold and angry and deadly. So very deadly.

"Then we need to prepare."

"No more bringing her in the booth," Natsu states, only, Ultear then twists to stare at him. He meets her, curious but unyielding.

"We should keep her with us."

"No, we should find a place for her." Ultear bristles at the response and the entire guild quickly realizes that this will be a long night. Not that they have to be a part of it but they couldn't imagine just abandoning these parents. Not now.

(But what can they do? These mages, so strong and capable, clearly already attempting to handle this on their own. What could they do but offer their presence?)

A muscle in Natsu;s jaw twitches, stress visible in his brow. But then he breathes, a low, obvious thing, and looks away. "Could one-" he breathes, jaw loosening, "could some of you go up with her?"

"Of course!" A few immediately shout. And at the back of the unreasonably large group is Laxus. He sends Natsu a look before silently nodding his head and lumbering after them. A powerhouse and a dragon slayer, enough of a defense that both Ultear and Natsu can really breathe.

But there's still a hefty group left and this isn't an argument that can wait.

"She should stay with us," Ultear states and he can't argue with that, not really. He wants Sonya there. He wants to glue her to his side and cradle her and growl at anyone that may approach.

But he's protective like that, he knows he is, so he tries to curb that need when he can. It isn't often that Ultear fuels such a thing.

So, he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, a heavy sigh following as he settles his breathing.

(There's still a fire under his skin, lava pooling in his lungs, itching and ready. So, so ready.)

"She shouldn't stay in Crocus," he says, slow and sure. Deliberate. Conflicted. "No one should, actually. Should we inform the council?"

"They wouldn't listen to us, are you kidding me? And don't change the subject." Ultear snaps too quickly for any input. It makes words die on tongues and emotions flare too quickly for anyone to react.

But Natsu, who has dealt with Ultear and her intellectual stubbornness for years, is unperturbed. He knows her weaknesses, her distrust, where even she, so calm and cool and collected, can grow blind.

"We can't just be thinking about ourselves. People are in danger."

"We'll inform the other guilds and keep an eye out. We won't let them get Yukino, okay?" She means to be comforting.

Instead, that lava crawls up Natsu's throat. The anxiety and the anger and the fear and the pain, it mixes into something dark, something hot and dangerous.

And scared.

"Won't let them-" the words come out too soft. But Ultear knows, she sees how his eyes burn and his face twists into a dark scowl, nose flaring and jaw twitching. "They probably already have Yukino!" He growls, louder than he's prone to do. Angry. His hands clench into white-knuckled fists and his arms tremble with the need to do something, anything.

And for how calm and cool and collected Natsu had slowly become over the years, he's still Natsu. Emotional, loving, caring, protective Natsu. And if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll tear them apart.

(But maybe, maybe a small part of her wants to do the same thing. A small part of her wants to run off and tear Sting limb from limb, snarling and growling, covered in blood up to her elbows, because he dare to touch a hair on her precious daughter's head?)

"-have Yukino, then these games aren't worth it! You know that! Sonya's not Worth It!"

But Natsu, kind, sweet Natsu, shouldn't have to deal with having blood on his hands.

"Natsu," she keeps her voice aggravatingly soft. And when she reaches, it's a slow movement, one where she delicately cups Natsu's face. He's warm to the touch, cheeks glowing and fire burning. His muscles stay tense under her touch and his teeth grind. There's a darkness to his eyes, as if a curtain had been pulled over, emotions clouding.

They'd done some research into dragons for a period of time. Natsu had wanted to get stronger, Ultear wanted to know more, and she knows that he can't control himself, not really. Not when the life in question is that of his child.

It's the possessiveness, the integral need to protect family and hoard, the passion of brimstone and spitfire children of lava.

He'd kill for her, they both would.

(And become outlaws in the process, and would that be worth it? Yes. It would. But they couldn't do that to Sonya.)

Slowly, Natsu unravels under Ultear's touch. She swipes her thumb across his cheek, flickering to look between those two hooded eyes. His name's on her tongue but she doesn't say a word. Just stares and caresses and waits for him to breathe.

He does. His lungs tremble under the strain but he manages a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut and he slumps, shoulders dropping and cheek pressing into Ultear's hand.

"She's in Sabertooth. That's Sting's guild." Ultear bites her lip at that.

"That doesn't mean he's already gotten her." Natsu opens his eyes and looks to Ultear, brow raised.

"It's safer to assume the worst," he says and he almost laughs. More often than not, it was Ultear planning for the worst and Natsu being the one to reassure her that it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Sometimes, Natsu was right. Sometimes, Ultear was.

"Let's get our facts straight before we make a plan," she finally says, both of them knowing full well that that's their only viable option.

"Who knows how long we have."

"Heart said it's the last day of the exams."

"Two days?"

"That's plenty of time."

"Plenty of time? We don't even have a plan."

"Then maybe I can be of assistance?"

They pause. The voice is new, an air of confidence and yet not entirely present. Soft in the breeze yet resonating in their chests.

Looking over, it's not difficult to find the floating, pristine form of their first master.

"You two rest, be with your daughter. You both will be participating in the Games tomorrow for both events, if you think you're up for it." An argument is on the tip of their tongues, something of worry and doubt. And then she smiles. "Don't worry. We'll protect your daughter, and I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to not compete."

It's a challenge, and when Natsu smiles, Ultear smiles.

A/N: She's short because, honestly, she's been done for a longass time and, while I'm working on this, I thought I'd offer this as a… a peace offering.