A/N: Thank you all once again for you beautiful, kind words and continuous encouragement. I know many of you are intrigued/pissed at Natsu, and quite rightly so XD His characterisation is actually inspired by many people I have encountered over the past year and a half. Some who I couldn't imagine life without, and others who I wished I had never met.

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Chapter Three

I hated going to church.

When I was younger, Mom and Dad would take Ashley and I along every Sunday without fail. We'd lie under the pews on the upstairs balcony playing knots and crosses and games of hangman until the Sunday School kids came out from their dungeon. A full three months went by before anyone figured out where we were going in those two hours. They began to lock the doors to the upstairs balcony after that.

I remember one week Sunday School was cancelled for a 'special' kind of meeting. The service lasted for four hours that day, and for three and a half of them the full congregation sat in silence. There was no music. No sermon. Just silence – with the odd smoker's cough thrown in every so often for special effect.

I never really understood why they chose to do that on that day. It wasn't a particularly noteworthy Sunday like Passover or Easter. Just your regular old boring Sunday where they would serve tea and biscuits afterwards, and not even the good biscuits with chocolate on them.

Not that chocolate biscuits would make going to church any more exciting.

Like that Sunday so many years ago, this one too, was nothing to write home about. I was at that age where I was too old for Sunday School but still young enough where I didn't have to be subjected to two hours of hymns, prayers and bumbling's from the pastor. Instead it was the pastor's son, Sting, Magnolia Pentecostal's very own youth leader.

We sat in a slightly modernised dungeon. Games consoles and pool tables only a few of the items the church used to lure in the young. I wished God was enough for them. I hated church, but God wasn't church.

For some reason people didn't quite get that.

Sting – although the pastor's son – was a bit more likeable than his father, and a lot more attractive as every girl who came to his youth meetings pointed out. He stood about six feet, taller than me but maybe not quite as tall as Natsu, and he wore a smile that always had me looking away with jealousy.

His was real. Mines was not.

I sat up the back as I usually did, Ashley once again typing away on her phone. It looked like things with the Dragion boy were getting serious. She hadn't kicked him to the curb yet.

"Put that thing away," I whispered as Sting grabbed his notes, his sermon about to begin. "You'll get caught."

"And what?" She said with a roll of the eyes. "And get kicked out of The Dungeon and made to spend my Sunday with my friends. What a punishment that would be."

She went back to typing, and I went back to being invisible.

A hush fell over the group as Sting skipped to the front, his smile beaming as he shuffled his notes and ran a hand through his hair.

I did like his hair.

"Morning, guys," Sting greeted, an echoed chorus ringing out in response. "Okay, so today I have a very interesting topic to discuss that I think we can all relate to in one way or another." He picked up a pen, turning to the white board he had set up and wrote down his sermon title. "Immorality: How to stay clean in a dirty world."

If I didn't think I would draw so much attention to myself, I'd have got up and left there and then.

Smile still fixed firmly in place, Sting looked between each and every one of us. "What do you guys think of when I say 'Immorality'."

Lisanna put her hand up first, Sting's attention immediately being caught. "That's easy." She said, her voice as delicate as a song birds. "Sex."

Laughter filled the room, a few boys letting out an excited 'yeah' at the word. Sex was very rarely spoken about in sermons with the youth. I never knew why to be honest. Maybe they thought we'd all run off and fornicate just at the mention of it.

"Sex before marriage?" Sting expanded, Lisanna nodding sweetly. "No, fair enough, sex comes to a lot of people's minds. Sexual immorality is mentioned several times in the bible; but what would you classify as being sexually immoral?"

I wanted to vomit. Run away and wallow in my hole of self-loathing.

"Are you wanting all the grizzly details?" Laxus laughed, slouching in his seat.

Laxus Dreyer, the self-proclaimed 'bad boy' of The Dungeon, was notorious for his recalcitrant behaviour. A few years ago, he was suspended from group activities for bringing in a copy of his dad's Playboy. His old man hid them in sandwich bags and taped them to the top of the toilet cistern. It was funny at the time, Mr Dreyer denying any knowledge of such 'vulgar profanity' being stored under his roof. I thought the little vein in the middle of his forehead was going to pop when he dragged his son out the church by his ear.

Two weeks later, Laxus was back with the latest edition.

Sting shook his head, his lips curling upwards. "I think we all know the gist of it, Laxus, but thanks for offering."

"Anytime, man."

They all laughed again, and I wanted to die.

"Okay," Sting sobered, cutting in through the noise. "What if I said that just looking at a girl and thinking 'man, I'd love to do A, B, C and D to her' was considered immoral? Would you believe me?"

Laxus sighed. "Well, if that's the case, then I'm definitely going to Hell."

"Ugh, you're such a perv, Laxus!" Mirajane blushed, the brute of a boy wagging his eyebrows at her. "Don't you have any shame?"

"Want to find out, sweetheart?" Was his reply, a roar emanating from the congregation.

I now realize that this was the reason why sex was very rarely mentioned amongst the youth. Or amongst Laxus, at least.

"Okay, cool it guys," Sting chuckled, cutting off the brewing argument. "Let's not get too carried away here. This is church, remember."

They settled, but that did little for the waves of nausea threatening to drown me.

"The truth is," Sting continued, "is that being immoral is more than just sleeping around before you get married. It's wickedness. Pure and simple."

The hype in the room died down to a whisper, the excitement fading away to nothing, and for once, I was thankful.

Loke put his hand up next, his brows furrowed together as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. I often credited Loke as being, intellectually, more superior than Laxus; not that that was a difficult task. I was positive he'd be able to divert the topic of conversation completely.

"Yeah," he began when Sting nodded, "what's so 'evil' about sex before marriage anyway?"

But then again, it seemed like every male in The Dungeon had a one-track mind.

I could tell that Sting regretted his topic choice. He kept scratching the back of his neck or rolling his eyes, but everyone patiently waited for his answer. I even caught myself holding my breath in anticipation. Sting was the model Christian. The one who we all secretly strived to be like. He was the Gandhi of The Dungeon, and in our eyes, he could do no wrong. If we wanted an answer to anything, it was his we sought.

"Okay, so we're getting a little side tracked here," he sighed, making his way back to his seat and grabbing a can of Pepsi he had waiting for later, "but I'll try and explain this as best as I can."

Opening the can, he took a big swig, the sticky goodness spilling down his chin and onto his shirt. He looked like the guy in the commercial, and suddenly I found myself craving a can.

"Oh, that's good." He almost groaned. "That is a good can of soda. Loke, would you like a sip?"

Holding the can out, Loke gingerly took it, not even wiping the rim before downing some himself.

"Not bad." He agreed.

"Told you it was good." Sting smiled. "Hey, Laxus! Want some?"

With a shrug, Laxus took the can and drank a little.

"Why doesn't everyone have a sip!? It's so good!" Sting said enthusiastically. "Pass it around, man."

So, he did. The can made its way around every person in the room, some taking small sips, others chugging until they were told to stop and share. When it came to me, I barely let it touch my lips before sending it further down the line, and before I knew it, Sting was holding it once again.

Gently shaking it, there was a faint swish coming from the bottom, the can close to empty after everyone had taken their fill.

"Now, I think we can all agree that on a hot summers day, that was quite satisfying, yeah?" He asked, most agreeing with him as he looked into the can. "Mind you, I think I would have much rather have the whole can to myself than share with a whole bunch of people. Am I right?"

Agreement spilled forth once again.

"Tell you what, Loke," Sting said, biting his lip as he looked back at him. "If you can't wait, I will let you finish what's left in this can. You know, the same can that we all shared and drank from. The can that has all our backwash in it. Would you like that?"

At that, Loke's face screwed up in disgust.

"I think I'll pass." He practically gagged.

"Are you sure?" Sting asked. "I mean, it's only if you can't wait. I really don't mind letting you have it, but if you can wait," making his way back over to his chair, he picked up another can, "then I'll give you this unopened, ice cold, never been shared before Pepsi that you can keep all to yourself. The choice is yours, man."

Loke smirked with a small nod of understanding. "I'll wait."

Smiling, Sting handed him the can. "That's why you should wait until you're married. No one wants an empty can, do they?"

I felt tears burn the back of my eyes as I looked down at my feet.

What I'd give to be back on the balcony playing under those pews right now.

. . . . . .

The sun was beating down high in the sky when I finally got out from The Dungeon. I'd half hoped that time had warped and night had come by then. The sooner this day was over, the better as far as I was concerned. But there was no such luck.

We found Dad at the bottom of the stairs talking to Bisca and Alzack; little Asuka, running on the lawn with the other kids. They were all laughing. Smiling as if they had hangers wedged tightly between their cheeks. It was a picturesque scene of innocence, and once again, I found my jealousy bubbling within.

How happiness didn't wither and die in my presence, I had yet to find out.

Ashley wasted no time in bidding her farewells before heading for her friends' waiting car. I hated her for leaving me. Still, I smiled and waved.

Bisca pulled me in for a hug the second she could. I had learned with Bisca that the tighter the squeeze, the more she liked you. She expressed her delight in my presence, her arms flailing in excitement as she spoke. No doubt she was going to ask for a favour.

"It's so good to see you, Luce." She beamed. "How was Sting's meeting this morning?"

I smiled, praying the bile racing to escape would crawl back down. "It was very . . . informative."

"He's actually a very good speaker for his age." Alzack said, my dad mumbling his agreement. "He's really good for the kids."

Sometimes I think Alzack fails to remember that there's a larger age gap between me and Asuka than there is between me and him. I doubt reminding him would go down well, however. I forgot that the second you became a parent that you became an all-knowing being.

"So, Luce," Bisca said, snapping me out of my inner monologue. "I know you watched Asuka last week, but would you mind watching her again this Friday?" She smiled at Alzack, her hand resting on his bicep. "My love surprised me with a trip to see Lyra in concert as an early anniversary gift."

I forced a smile. "Of course, Bisca. Anytime."

They carried on conversation without me after that, not that I cared much. Levy and Cana were more than likely waiting for me to get back, but all I really wanted to do was lock myself away for a while.

Or forever.

I watched as the bustling crowd dwindled down to the familiar few, my dad showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. Tired of waiting, I went and sat on the wall by the gates. It was quiet, and I was thankful. I waved politely to those who promised to see me next week, the gentle breeze licking at the hem of my skirt. It had butterflies on it, and I couldn't help but picture them trying to fly somewhere far away.

Maybe they could take me with them.

It wasn't long before I felt someone come and sit next to me, and I had to admit that I was a little surprised at who it was.

"Hi, Lucy."

Tucking a lock behind my ear, I smiled. "Hi, Sting."

"What're you doing here by yourself?" He asked, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh, you know," I shrugged, "just waiting on my dad. He gets a bit carried away in conversation sometimes."

"Don't I know that feeling." He laughed. "I'm a PK, remember. Our dads have to talk to everyone before we can leave."

I think Sting tried too hard to appear cool sometimes.

"How did you find the sermon today?" He asked, making small talk.

I hated it. I hated it so much that I wanted to run away and puke my guts up. Expel every drop of hypocrisy and wickedness out of myself.

"It was really good," I said instead.

That seemed to be enough to satisfy him.

Scratching the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. "So, I was wondering if maybe you would like to go to the movies on Saturday. You know, on a date . . . with me. Only if you want, that is."

My breath hitched, and all I could do was blink.

"A date," I stuttered. "With me?"

"Yeah." He smiled, visibly relaxing. "I thought it would be fun, you know? Get to know each other outside The Dungeon. Plus . . . you're really pretty."

He blushed, and I sighed.

"I'm really flattered, Sting," I began, his wide innocent eyes boring into me, "but would you mind if I think about it?"

He smiled again, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, Luce. I know you've had a rough time recently. I'm not going to pressure you into anything you're not ready for."

Sting really was a nice guy.

But I was just an empty can.
. . . . . .

Natsu had a lot of scars. Some I had never seen before. They were scattered across his body like tiny fallen soldiers; each one painting a picture of the stories they had to tell. One by one, I let my finger trace the path they had created, some fading away to memories, others rough and jagged and hard to forget.

We lay face to face, enveloped by silence. Doing nothing but existing.

And it was beautiful.

Never drawing his gaze away, Natsu brushed my hair from my eyes. Sex with him was becoming a normality these days, but intimacy was something new altogether.

It was quite nice.

"Natsu," I whispered. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're very pretty."

He smiled, but I didn't, and he wrapped his arm around me, his large hand splayed on my back.

"Do you think you're pretty?" He asked.

I felt tears well in my eyes. "I think I'm broken."

Brushing my hair away again, he rested his forehead against mine.

"You're not broken," He said, softly. "You're just a little bruised right now, and that's okay."

I wrapped my arm under his, pulling myself flush against his chest and rested my cheek against his shoulder.

He squeezed me tight and I began to cry silently.

"Natsu," I whispered again.

"Luce?"

He could feel my tears now.

"I think I'm broken."

I sobbed, and he saw.

"What happened, Lucy?"

I cracked.

"My mom died."

He held me until I fell asleep that night.
. . . . . .

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter guys. It was hard to write, and I found myself crying at the end of it. Please leave a little review to let me know what you think. They are so appreciated, and the kind words that you have all spoken about Lucy have really helped me. You honestly have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you.

I love having songs to go along to my stories, so if you like listening to music while reading, here's a list which helped me write down the words.

Boats & Birds – Gregory And The Hawk
Mended Souls – Casey Hurt
Smother – Daughter
Much More Than That – Sharon Van Etten
Claire De Lune - DeBussy
Everybody's Free (To Feel Good) – Jennifer Ann
Youth – Daughter
Take Me Home – Jess Glynne
What A Wonderful World – Louis Armstrong
Fountain – Sara Lov
In the Blood – John Mayer
Somewhere Over The Rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole