There's something soft under him when Laxus stirs, and for a fleeting, blissful moment he thinks that he's at home, fingers stretching out in search of Freed, surprised that the Rune Mage isn't curled around him which is his preferred way to sleep. The movement hurts, not the sharp throb of an injury, but a deeper, lingering ache and his breath catches, as with the pain comes memory.

The Demon…

The Fight…

The Mist…

Freed…

His eyes snap open at the memory of Freed lunging at him, teeth bared, and face twisted into an expression that should never be on his partner's face. There's a startled noise above him, and it takes him a second to recognise Evergreen's voice, and another to blink enough to clear the blurriness clouding his eyes to bring her face into view. By the time he has, Bickslow is there too, relieved and worried and something worse all at once. Laxus feels a surge of relief at the sight of them, notices that they look exhausted and somewhat unsteady on their feet. However, it's a far cry from the picture of them on the floor, still and unmoving, as terror had gripped him that it was already too late, but it's another name that's on his lips when he manages to coax his voice into working.

"…Freed?" They must've expected the question, it's the first question both he and Freed ask whenever injured, always needing to know where and how the other is, but today they flinch and share a look that tells him everything he needs to know.

Freed isn't here.

Gritting his teeth, and ignoring their attempts to stop him, Laxus pushes himself upright on what he realises is indeed a bed, just not his own. His arms tremble with the effort, barely managing to hold him upright, and as much as he hates to admit it, he needs the hands that immediately wrap around his shoulders and help him sit up as they realise he's not going to stop. He has to let them settle him back against the pillows that Evergreen hastily piles up behind him because otherwise, he has a feeling, he will be taking a rather undignified tumble off the side of the bed. Now, he takes a brief moment to examine his surroundings. They're in the infirmary, and he frowns, realising that he has no memory of returning to the guild, let alone arriving in the infirmary before his attention is drawn to the bed opposite where Yajima is laid. The older man looks terrifyingly fragile and far too small in the bed, and abruptly he's reminded of how Makarov had looked on Tenroujima when he had been pushed to the brink. As much as he wants to ask about Freed, to demand answers about where his partner is, he has to ask. "Is he…?"

Evergreen follows his line of sight, and he sees her swallow before she turns back and meets his gaze. "He's not doing well. Porlyusica was able to find a cure for the barrier particles we absorbed, thanks to you."

"Me?"

"There was blood on your coat from whatever the hell he was," Bickslow takes over, and Laxus doesn't think he's ever heard the other man sound so grim or so shaken, because there is fear in those words. But not just fear of their attacker, but something deeper. Demon, he was a demon just like… Laxus can't bring himself to finish that thought, knows that the others are thinking it too and nods, a silent demand for them to continue. "She used that to create a cure for us, but it takes time to work. You were out longer because you had a greater concentration of the particles in your body." There's an unspoken question in those words, but Laxus doesn't answer, remembering how determined he had been to suck up every part of that deadly mist, the burn of it in his throat and lungs, the weakness that had been threatening to consume him. He doesn't want to talk about it, about the slowly building weight of guilt at his failure that is settling in the pit of his stomach, because they might be here and alive, and with their magic he adds, realising that while it's drained, he can still feel it, he hadn't been the one to save them in the end.

"Yajima?" He asks, through numb lips, even as it's Freed's name that fills his mind and heart.

"He had about the same concentration as us, but his age and health and working against him. Porlyusica is hopeful that he will recover, but she won't make any promises until he wakes up…"

"How long?" Laxus asks because he hadn't missed that Bickslow had said that it took time, and it's clear that the other two have been awake a while to have caught up on what had happened or was happening, and his heart sinks as they exchange another look. And there's a fierce but silent battle of wills, before Bickslow's shoulders slump in defeat.

"It's been a couple of days. Evergreen woke the first night, and I followed the next morning although Porlyusica only let us up and about this morning, and that's with strict instructions not to overdo it," Bickslow admits, cautious and with good reason, because Laxus is immediately trying to rise. The air around him is crackling with magic, and while muted, it's enough to make them both back away in alarm. "Laxus."

Laxus doesn't make it far, his body betraying him, and he very nearly ends up on the floor, but Evergreen lunges to catch him, hissing as the static catches her and the noise makes him rein himself in. But he's trembling, not sure if it's anger or worry that he's feeling more strongly. "Days?" He whispers, before looking at them again. "Where is he? How did we get here?" He hates that he can't remember, his memories of those last few minutes hazy, apart from the haunting image of Freed lunging at him, the Demon alive and triumphant in his eyes.

"We don't know," Bickslow replies, and it's only the fact that he sounds as strained and demoralised by his own words that stops Laxus from snapping at him. "Apparently, the four of us just appeared in the middle of the guild, without Freed." That sparks a memory, a flash of purplish-black against the purple runes that Freed had erected. The tug of what he now realises was his magic supporting the barrier, and then a flare of other runes that had been hidden in the barrier—a failsafe.

"He triggered it…"

"Laxus?"

"I thought that I could stop it, that if I sucked up all the mist you four would be safe, but Freed…" Laxus closed his eyes, remembering how Freed had shouted at him, begging him to start, before something had shifted in his expression. He'd realised before Laxus had even realised let alone admitted to himself that it wasn't going to work, and he had stepped up to protect them. To protect Laxus. But at what cost? Laxus demanded the thought made a thousand times worse because he knew Freed. Knew that even in those few desperate moments he'd had to realise what was happening, make a plan and execute it, Freed had weighed the risk, and realised what it would cost him, and still chosen to do it. "Freed stopped it…erected barriers around us. Around the mist…" He trailed off at that, sudden panic flooding him. "The town?"

"The town is fine," Evergreen was quick to reassure him, huffing a noise that he guessed was supposed to be a laugh but fell miles short of holding any humour. "Freed was very thorough, Makarov said that the mist was still there, but trapped in the space where the restaurant was. The Rune Knights have sealed off the area and reinforced the barriers just before they could fail, and they are working on a way to dissipate it safely, although apparently they're having trouble just maintaining the barriers."

Freed had held it back. Alone, injured and with his magic draining away, and his demonic side fighting for control, and not for the first time Laxus was in awe of his partner, even though he wanted nothing more than to have Freed in front of him so that he could shake him for being so reckless. For sacrificing himself, because the Dragon-slayer knew that was precisely what he had done. He'd drained his magic to maintain those barriers, because as he'd explained once – in far too much detail for the Dragon-slayer's liking, that such defensive barriers needed an anchor. And in doing so had let his own barriers - the carefully maintained magical cage that he kept around his demonic side – collapse and fail, unleashing the Demon and allowing it to seize control of Freed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time. Then anticipating that the Demon would attack him, or that Laxus would provoke it by trying to bring Freed back, the Rune mage had built a failsafe into the runes, a protection against himself.

"There were teleportation runes…" Freed had made sure they all had at least a rudimentary understanding of his runes, so that in the heat of battle he wasn't having to explain what he was doing, and now Laxus could see them clearly.

"But…" Why isn't he here too?

"Freed was the trigger," Laxus said softly, hands bunched in the covers because he had never needed or wanted to be protected from Freed no matter how dangerous he could be when the Demon slipped its leash. "The moment he attacked me, the runes activated and brought us home…" Because I told him too. That had been the trigger he realised belatedly, remembering how Freed's expression had changed after Laxus had told him to get them home, that it was his job. What have I done?"

"He attacked… his Demon?" Bickslow interrupted his own question with another before cursing softly. "I should have known."

"What do you mean?" Evergreen demanded before Laxus could.

"When you were fighting the other Demon, and we were getting up, Freed was off…" Bickslow replied. "Clenching his hands, and looking as though he was fighting, but he didn't say anything, and when I looked again he seemed back to normal, and he sounded like himself when we were talking about bring that guy back here."

He's not human. Laxus remembered saying that, the fear that it had invoked, but he had never considered what having another Demon in proximity might do to Freed. Had that woken the Demon earlier? Had Freed's loss of control been inevitable? "You've heard nothing?" He heard himself ask, desperate, pleading, not because Freed couldn't take care of himself whatever form he was in, but because he knew that his partner would never forgive himself if the Demon caused havoc while it ran wild.

"Nothing," Bickslow said with a scowl. "The guild is currently trying to locate him, while also finding and protecting any past Council members that are still alive. They've been warned that Freed… that he…" He can't put it into words, and Laxus is relieved because he doesn't want to hear it either. There's a sinking feeling at the same time because while those who needed to know like Makarov had been aware of Freed's occasional struggles with his Demon, it had been otherwise private and he knew that Freed wouldn't be happy with the whole guild knowing. Even though he would undoubtedly agree with them being told, as it would protect them from him.

And who will protect him?

"What are you doing?" Evergreen demanded as he pushed back the covers, and swung his legs over the side, gritting his teeth as even that had him reeling dizzily.

"We have to find Freed." He was grateful that the rest of the guild was looking, he really was, and not just because he knew that it meant a lot to Freed to have managed to find a place in the guild after everything that had happened with the Battle of Fairy Tail. But he wanted to be the one to find him, he needed to be the one to find him, and he and the Raijinshuu had a better chance than anyone at bringing Freed back to himself before he could do too much damage to either himself or innocent people. "He…" Laxus had made it to his feet, and immediately staggered and listed to the side, Evergreen and Bickslow immediately flanking him, and belatedly he realised he wasn't the only one trembling from the exertion. But neither of them suggested that he get back into bed, or that they needed to wait. Instead, they steadied him and lingered, supporting him on both sides.

"We need to talk to the Master first." Was all that Bickslow said, and while Laxus wanted to argue, knowing that his Grandfather would be reluctant to let them go in this state if he didn't outright forbid them. But he didn't argue, because they were leading him towards the door, making no comment on how much he had to lean on them, or the breathlessness that gripped him halfway, and he was infinitely grateful to them for that fact.

Freed, we're coming for you.

Freed had surfaced briefly.

He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since Laxus and the others had escaped, just that it had been long enough for him to not recognise their surroundings. He hurt. That was the only way to describe it, although if he pressed he wouldn't have been able to say what hurt or whether it was his body that ached, or him – his soul – whatever you wanted to call it that was wounded, most likely it was both and there was nothing he could do about either of them. He was a prisoner in his own body and mind, and when he pushed albeit weakly, he realised that was more literal than he meant as he encountered resistance. He couldn't see anything, but he recognised the sensation, the power behind them. A cruel mirror of the magical walls he had used to keep the Demon contained, only much stronger, and writhed in darkness that left him feeling cold and numb when he came into contact with it.

Still, he pressed against them, searching and testing for weakness, even as he wanted nothing more than to curl up in oblivion again. It was like a fortress rising dark and unseen around him, and as he explored it, he became aware that exits weren't the only thing that was missing.

His magic was gone.

Not drained too unusable levels which he had experienced more than once, and been lectured for on all occasions, as usually, he'd pushed himself too far to protect the others. No this was like a candle that had been burnt down until all that remained was molten wax and a ruined wick, and it terrified him. More than the walls and the darkness, and the smug triumph that he could now feel in the air as the Demon became aware of his stirring. Because his magic was his lifeline, his shield and his weapon against the monster within his body, and without it…

You are nothing more than a human, the Demon purred in their head and Freed wanted to vomit, because there was nothing he could say in response. No defiant words. No defence. He had no magic, he didn't know where Laxus and the others were, or if they were even safe, because despite his best efforts they had been exposed to the barrier particles for far too long, and…

The darkness when it came, wasn't the peaceful oblivion he had long for. It was cold and menacing, a suffocating blanket that was draped over him, forcing him under and trapping him with his own despairing thoughts.

Help me.

Makarov hadn't wanted them to join the search, and Porlyusica had been furious at them all for even being up and out of bed. Still, Laxus had let the anger and worry flow off him, like waves parting for the bow of a ship, immovable in his determination. His Grandfather at least relented when he had explained what had happened, hearing the fear that Laxus just couldn't keep out of his voice despite his best efforts, because this was Freed, and even though he knew better than anyone to doubt his partner's strength of will, of magic and general stubbornness. He also knew that the Demon was a wound that had never healed, a fear and a weakness, that Freed hid from the rest of the world but had dared to show with them, for moments like this so that they would be able to stop him and call him back.

First, they had to find them.

Tartaros was on the move around them, even while he had been talking with Makarov news had come in from several of the groups out searching for the Council Members as well as Freed. As much as Laxus wanted to snarl and argue that Freed was more important than some old fogeys that more often than not had spoken out against their guild, he held his tongue. This was important, Freed had known as much, focusing on that even when…. He shook his head, trying to pay attention to what was going on because the news was worrying, the guild rallying and there was a small voice that sounded suspiciously like a certain Rune Mage that whispered that he should help them first. He forced it down and looked to Evergreen and Bickslow. They looked as worn thin as he felt, and he knew that if Freed had been there, he would take one look at them and order them back into bed, and Laxus was tempted, but they had already informed him in words that he was reasonably sure they would never have used on Freed that they were coming with him.

Face…

The Council…

More Tartaros…

The news rolls in and Makarov seems to age in front of his eyes, but when he turns to Laxus, he is as focused and determined as ever albeit seemingly torn of what to say. "Laxus…" The Dragon-slayer meets and holds his gaze, not sure what he is going to do or say if Makarov pleads with him to stay, knowing that Fairy Tail is as embroiled in this mess as it is possible to be at this point, that too many of them are separated in danger. But this is Freed. It's selfish, he knows that, but he also can't beyond that point. When he closes his eyes, all he can see is Freed's fear for him morphing into determination to protect them all or that final, flare of magic that had torn them away from him. Freed's sacrifice the only reason why they're still here, and his hands curl into fists at his side, and he's unaware of the magic bleeding into the air around him, a brewing storm. "Find him," Makarov says, and something in Laxus' chest eases at the words that are both permission and a plea, and he barely pays attention to Makarov hushing Porlyusica when she snaps a protest. "They're the only ones that can bring Freed back."

Laxus meets his gaze for a moment, swallowing hard as he realises, he can see an echo of the thought that has been growing in the back of his mind throughout the discussion and reports. They're the only one who can stop Freed, especially if… He hears the words that aren't spoken, knows that he will have to say as much to Evergreen and Bickslow, but not here where the walls have ears, and instead, he nods to signal his understanding.

It takes everything Laxus has to rise to his feet and not waver as he straightens. He's exhausted, and not in the way that will be resolved by a nap and food, and he knows that if he stopped and lay down, then he would be asleep in seconds and probably stay that way for hours if not days. Part of him longs to do that because it's the kind of weariness that wraps itself around more than his physical body. And privately he knows that Porlyusica is right to worry, especially as he has a feeling that this isn't going to be like any other fight or attempt to bring Freed back to them. He doesn't look at Evergreen or Bickslow as he moves to stand with him, knowing that they must feel the same, and he can smell their worry, their fear, and it is made more real by the silence of Bickslow's dolls as they float around them.

"Let us know if anything happens with Yajima," he says, glancing at Porlyusica who is glaring at them, clearly itching to override Makarov and order them back to the infirmary. He owes her a lot, they all do, but he won't let her keep them from Freed. She softens a little at his words, just a slight easing around her eyes and nods in agreement. He knows the others are worried about the old man, and he has a feeling that Freed as soon as he is able will ask about Yajima, and Laxus wants to be able to answer him. "And with Them," he adds, shifting his attention to Makarov, unable to keep the menace of out of his voice, at the thought of their enemy.

Tartaros. Demon gates.

He will not forget their name, and he won't hesitate this time. He knows what they are now, has a better idea of what they are capable, his throat burning with the memory of the mist choking him, killing him… and even Natsu had struggled to force a victory from what Lucy had said. It doesn't bode well any of it, but Laxus' concern is narrower, because they're dealing with Demons and Freed is out there somewhere, caught in the grasp of something just like them. Let's meet in Hell dead ones, he shivers at the memory of the words, nails biting into the palms of his hands.

We will send you there.

The guild is chaotic when they leave, and he can feel worried eyes tracking them, whispers spreading around them, a touch of fear colouring the air as they realise they're leaving.He can't bring himself to look at them, because Freed's voice is in the back of his mind urging him to stay and fight, and he can't risk the chance that he might give in to that urge no matter how much his partner might want him to, because he feels like theirs an hourglass hovering over them. Sand tumbling through with each minute that passes, and that with each grain of sand Freed is moving a step further away from them.

Away from him.

"Laxus, where are we going? If no one has seen him…" It's Bickslow that speaks up as they step outside the guild, and Laxus has the impression he'd lost the competition to see who was going to broach the subject.

"Back to where this started at the restaurant," Laxus replies without looking back. "If Freed managed to barricade it, and set up a failsafe, then maybe he left some indication of where the Demon would go." The Demon was unpredictable at the best of times, and he knew that it might be a wild hope to expect even more from Freed than he had already done. But, this was Freed. He had always been able to do the unexpected, and he knew more about his demonic side than the rest of them combined, forcing himself to learn its limits, it's strengths, to be able to keep it bound more securely.

"And if he hasn't?" Evergreen braves the question that he had been trying to avoid. Not because he doesn't have an answer, but because he is scared of the one that he does have. The one that had haunted Makarov's gaze and the unspoken words that had hung between them.

"If he hasn't, then we need to find Tartaros," Bickslow is the one to respond, voice soft, and Laxus faltered and glanced back at him, shivering as the dolls finally broke their silence to echo the name. The Skeith mage is scowling, not at them, but at the ground as though he had given voice to something he hadn't want to say, and when he looks up at Laxus, his mouth is set in a grim line. "The Demon responded to being close to another one, so that's where he would go."

"You're saying he would join them…?" Evergreen whispered.

"Yes," Laxus said, just as quietly, turning his gaze to the sky. They're the only one who can stop Freed, especially if he has joined Tartaros, Makarov had spared him needing to hear the words, but not the thought. Now, standing there outside the guild that feels empty without Freed, and with Bickslow and Evergreen making matching sounds of dismay beside him, Laxus can't hide from it, as the cold weight of certainty settled over him.

Freed….

Freed is flying, and for a wild, hopeful minute he thinks it's just a dream and dares to lose himself in the sensation. He had always loved the freedom of being able to leave the ground behind and take to the air, to see the world from a different angle, it was why he had worked so hard to master that spell from a young age.

It's too real.

There's wind in his hair, pushing against him, and a chill that cuts through his body as he rises. Not a dream, then, and now he focuses, looking through eyes that no longer belong to him. They're high, higher than he has ever needed to go, and that explains the chill, and the thinning of the air around him, although it's not enough to harm him yet. There's a flash of colour in the corner of his eye, and it takes him a moment to realise that he's seeing his wings, larger than he creates them, and the purplish light that surrounds them is wrong. Darker, with flickers of black stretching across them like veins. Not his wings, but the Demon's… he doesn't have the magic to make them anymore. He has the terrifying realisation that he can't fight back right now, that he's wholly dependent on the Demon, because if it lost control now he would fall and he doesn't need to be able to see the ground to know that isn't a fall that he's going to survive.

There's laughter in his mind, the Demon aware that he's awake again and what he's thinking, taking malicious glee in his fear, and the fact that he is as trapped as ever. Where are we going? Freed asks, more to silence the laughter than anything because there's nothing he can do with the knowledge if the Demon even deigns to answer because he has no means of leaving a marker for the others to follow. If they're even able to, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Home.

Panic floods Freed at that simple word because home is Fairy Tail. Is the guild filled with his friends and guildmates, many of whom have never seen this side of him. People that he would never want to see him like this, let alone fight him, and he knows that it was what would happen because the desire to destroy, to corrupt is so strong that he can practically taste it. No, he thinks and even though he knows the dangers, knows that it's futile without his magic, he struggles, trying to break free. He will take the fall, the risk of severe injury or worse over the thought of hurting his guildmates again, he still bears the guilt of his past actions, and he refuses to add to it. It's like battering against a stone wall with a twig, the barricade around him not even quivering at his efforts, and then darkness lashes out, not to surround him this time, but to wound. It lashes at him, like Laxus' lightning but a thousand times worse, and he knew that if he had physical form right, then it would be raising welts across his skin. Instead, it seems to sink deeper, threatening to render him asunder from the inside out, and crying out to the sound of the Demon's laughter he retreated, abandoning his struggles, and all but baring his neck in surrender.

The Demon is not forgiving, relishing its freedom and the fact that the tables have turned, and Freed wonders if this is how he going to die because the assault seems to intensify and he can feel himself gripping. Losing all sense of himself and where he is, and everything becomes darkness and pain. Then just as he is about to topple over the precipice, the attack stops, and he can breathe, the first deep, shuddering breath more of a sob than anything else, and he knows the fall is inevitable. Can feel the yawning maw of the darkness opening beneath him, but just before he falls, he feels the Demon gather him close, almost imagines that he can feel breath on his face, and the scrape of claws against skin that is already torn and raw.

I'm taking you to Hell…

Then he fells a shove as the Demon laughs, and he's falling into endless black, and the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the darkness is the looming outline in the sky above him. And his final despairing thought, set to the melody of the mocking laugh that chases him into the dark is that the others are never going to be able to find him.