Chapter 37: Conflict of Interest

"I said no!" Dreamer put her hands on her hips, lips pinched in defiance. "And I, for one, am disappointed in both of you for acting this way! Here I thought there was an ounce of good in you…"

Piper and Macbeth shared an amused look.

"Dreamy, come on! You's know we got gipped on that job!"

"That does not mean I'm going to use my magic to seduce the guy into giving us more money!" Her face was an adorable shade of pink. "I can't believe you would ask me that!"

"What? He was a sleazebag," Piper shrugged, chuckling. "A good wink from one of those magical eyes woulda gotten us his entire savings."

"Despicable!" She huffed. Her glare turned on Macbeth. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

"No," he answered with a sly smirk. "I never suggested you use your magic to seduce him." His gaze drifted down below her collar.

"HEY!" Piper and Dreamer snapped simultaneously. Macbeth's eyebrows arched with amusement.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you two…" She sighed and pinched her brows together. "Children. Both of you…" She turned on her heels and strode away, ignoring Piper's calls.

"Ah well, can't says we didn't try." Piper shrugged and thrust his hands into his pockets. He smiled after her until she was around the corner, then looked at Macbeth. "Hey. It's your week to clean the bathroom, and the counter's startin' to look like a warzone."

"Maybe if you were less sloppy with your hair gel…"

"Maybe if you's put your makeup away after you's use it!"

"Who needs four bottles of the same cologne?"

"Last I checked, you had a collection of those damn herbal oils Porlyusica makes. Least my cologne doesn't make the room smell like a potions shop!"

"Why do you use the same cologne every day, anyway?" His red eyes sparked. "Let me guess, Dreamer complimented how you smelled one day and you've used the same scent ever since?"

Piper's cheeks took some color. "You're a goddamn smartass, Mac. She ain't got nothing to do with it."

"Mhm."

"Don't push your luck, punk. Just clean the damn bathroom!" Piper snarled and stomped away, boots scraping the floor. Macbeth smirked victoriously. He stretched and yawned, debating whether he'd take a nap or actually go back to their room to clean. It might be worth it to see Piper pissed off at least one more time today. Nap it is.

He started to walk, but stopped in midstride when he heard the metallic clank of a boot on the floor behind him.

"Macbeth." A firm voice called out to him. He tensed immediately, and turned slowly.

"Titania." For as long as he'd been around the Fairy Tail guild hall, Erza Scarlet still made goosebumps rise on his flesh. Then again, that seemed to be the effect she had on just about everyone.

"Please," the redhead approached him, "call me Erza."

He regarded her suspiciously, instinctively crossing his arms over his chest beneath his coat.

"Is there something you need, Erza?" He relaxed slightly. "Were my cakes insufficient this week?"

"No." She stood directly in front of him, one hand on her hip. "Your pastries were perfect, as always."

"Then to what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence, mighty Erza?"

"I never personally welcomed you into our guild," she said. She thrust a gauntleted hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow but she did not lower it. After a long, tense moment, he reached out to awkwardly shake it. Her grip on his fingers was crushing.

She gave a nod of approval and finally dropped her hand. Her arms crossed over her chest, expression shadowing.

"Now that that's done…" Her brown eyes met his with some fierceness. "I would like to ask you to resign from Fairy Tail immediately."

His eyes widened and he took an instinctive step back, as if the shock of her words had unsteadied him.

"You can't be serious!" He scoffed through a startled laugh.

"I am very serious." She scanned his face and posture, gauging his reaction. "It would seem that you are unaware of the situation."

Pricks of fear spread through his nervous system, putting every muscle on edge.

"There is no use in hiding the truth," she sighed heavily. She clasped her hand on his shoulder as if to brace him for her next words. "The remaining members of the Oracion Seis have escaped prison."

He stumbled back, legs suddenly not supporting his weight. She caught him in a bear-like embrace to keep him from falling. He shook violently, stiff as a board in her arms.

"I knew this news would be difficult for you to take." The woman did not release him. "I know those people are more than old guild mates to you. They're your friends. Believe me, Macbeth. I understand."

Cold tears slid down his cheeks, dripping with tiny plinks onto her armor.

"If you did not care for them, you would have had your Oracion Seis mark removed. But as it stands…" She leaned back, still clutching his shoulders, empathy and resolve etched on her face simultaneously. "You have a conflict of interest. This is why I am imploring you to leave Fairy Tail at once."

He was still trembling, head hanging down.

"You may be one of us now, Macbeth," her voice got sterner, "but the Oracion Seis is still an enemy of Fairy Tail. I don't doubt for a moment that they will come looking for you. Look at me, Macbeth!" She shook him slightly and he lifted his head to stare at her, the terror and uncertainty evident in his eyes. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that if they come for you, you will stay true to Fairy Tail?"

His red eyes flickered, lips parted… then he looked away in shame.

"That's what I thought." She released him. "The sooner you leave the easier it will be on all of us."

He stared at the floor.

"I'm serious, Macbeth." Her voice got quieter. "The longer you stay, the harder it will be on her when you leave."

Her.

"I will not force you to resign from Fairy Tail," Erza continued, "but I believe it is the appropriate course of action in this situation. Please…" Her voice quavered. "I know how hard it is to do what's right when it means you may lose someone you care for…But, if you do truly care for Dreamer, your actions will show the reformation she longs to see in you, and you will make the correct choice."

A long silence ensued. When it became clear that he had no intention of responding to her, she gave a brief nod. "I will give you time to consider your options." She started to walk away, but paused. "Macbeth… I'm sorry you have to make such a hard choice, but for what it's worth… I'm happy your friends are getting another opportunity to find their freedom. I'm sure that brings you joy." With these words she left him in the hall.

Faces flashed in his mind. Racer, Angel, Cobra, Hoteye… Father. Sawyer, Sorano, Erik, Richard… Zero.

"No…" Cell walls closed around him. Darkness and cold wrapping him up like a familiar blanket. The screams, the memories, the fear. He'd thought he was free. He'd thought the tower would fade into his past like a distant fog, but now here it was, looming in the form of his escaped family. Erza was right, they would come for him. And what then?

Dream… Cream colored hair that brushed a slender neck. Large eyes—always so expressive—swirling cherry blossoms caught in a raging windstorm always drawing in everything they saw. Pink lips that laughed, frowned, pinched together in irritation, matched the pale-rose blush that spread across her cheekbones when he looked at her. Her body, small and slender and light, reminiscent of a ballerina in a music box, spinning to a music only she could hear—an airy melody of sunlight, that sang of all the goodness and hope in the world, of reformed monsters and golden hearts.

And Syllestra… Hair as black as an ocean under the darkness of a new moon. Those same pink eyes as her surrogate mother. The mischievous grin of a free-spirited child, unbound by towers and screams. Her distinct laugh, as loud and perforating as the whistle of a train, giggle like bells when she threw her arms around his neck and rambled on and on about the innocent things that concerned her.

And what then? What will you do, Macbeth of Fairy Tail? Or is it still Midnight of Oracion Seis?

"Thank you for helping me out, Dreamer!" Mira smiled sweetly as Dreamer placed the last empty mug under the counter.

"Of course!" She smiled back.

Kinana had been having another one of her episodes, and with how big the guild had gotten, Mira couldn't keep up with the demands of the kitchen by herself anymore.

The white-haired wizard hummed happily and started for the kitchen with a tray of dishes.

"Here, I'll do that, Mira," she offered, taking the tray from her.

"Oh, really, it's no problem, Dreamer! You can go pick up Syllest from school now, I can finish here."

"I insist!" She held the tray out of Mira's reach. "It's Piper's turn to pick her up, anyway."

"That's right, it's Wednesday isn't it?" Mira tilted her head in thought. "Is he taking her to get ice cream again?"

"He better not," she scowled. "She does not need to pig out on ice cream every week."

Mira giggled and ruffled Dreamer's hair.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing!" Mira continued to giggle. "It's just that you're a really good mom, Dreamer."

Her cheeks took some color and she almost dropped the tray of dishes. A fork fell off and clattered to the floor. "Do you… really think so?"

"Yes, I do!" She twirled and stopped suddenly, eyes lighting up. "In fact, I think you should have a baby of your own!"

Dreamer blanched. "I shouldn't have asked…"

"Dreamer! You have to hurry and have babies with Macbeth so Syllest can have little brothers and sisters!"

She did drop the tray this time. Luckily, Mira caught it with demon-like reflexes and not a single glass mug shattered on the floor.

"First of all," Dreamer sputtered, face red, "how many children do you think I'm going to have?! Second of all, it's not like that with Macbeth and you know it!"

"Mhm," her friend rolled her eyes as if she didn't buy that for a second. "That's why you want to go to the kitchen so bad! You know he's in there!"

"Wha—" She shook her head fervently. "I had no idea!"

"Sure, Dreamer! You know he gets milk and cookies every night after closing!"

"Mira, I seriously had no idea!"

"Maybe you knew it subconsciously! That's so romantic!" Mira laid out dramatically against the counter. "Star-struck lovers, drawn to each other by fate, without their own knowledge!"

"I'm leaving." Dreamer grumbled and picked up the tray, heading for the kitchen door. She purposely tuned out the rest of Mira's dramatic play, particularly the part where she started to get handsy with the mop.

She walked inside and headed for the counter—except now her heart was thumping somewhere in her throat because there was a chance Macbeth was here. Sure enough, he stood at the metallic fridge, retrieving a jug of milk.

He didn't seem to hear her walk in. She took advantage of this moment to observe him, smiling to herself as she did so. He wasn't in his usual attire. It seemed he was settling down for the night, as he wore a simple black v-neck and blue pajama pants sporting little yellow ducks on them. She stifled a giggle, wondering where he got the article of clothing. The white underside of his hair was pulled back and clipped, presumably to keep it out of his food. She'd noticed he kept a hairband in his pocket for these exact occasions. And though the pendant rested somewhere under the fabric of his shirt, she could see the chain of the necklace Syllest had made him. She wondered if he ever took it off.

He was examining the date on the milk with his head cocked slightly, as if trying to decide if he should risk pouring himself a cup. He flipped the cap off and gave a reserved sniff at the jug. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to set it on the counter. It was only then that he noticed her standing there.

"Hello." She smiled widely at him. She was met with the fluttering of his eyelashes in surprise. He quickly turned his back on her in favor for picking up a cookie jar.

She sat the tray of dishes near the sink and watched as he fixed himself a plate of cookies. "Remember when I first caught you getting cookies and milk?" She giggled at the memory. "I thought you were so cute." Her cheeks caught fire when she released those words had just slipped out of her mouth. She watched his shoulders tense slightly, hand pausing for the tiniest of moments.

"I recall that I told you I hated you," he said. His voice seemed carefully strained for some reason.

"Oh yeah, I guess you did." She believed him then, but she knew that wasn't the case now. They were friends. They were teammates. They were… She swallowed nervously, not sure how to finish that thought.

He sat the plate of cookies next to the milk. "What do you want?" he asked, somewhat harshly.

Surprised by his attitude, she stuttered on her words. "I-I was just helping Mira clean." She regained composure and smiled brightly. She leaned against the counter. "But I have some time to myself right now. Maybe you could share your cookies with me?" She was hoping she sounded playful and not uncertain. She ignored the uncomfortable fluttering in her stomach—tried not to put meaning to the feeling.

"No." He didn't even look at her. His voice was cold, face like stone.

She frowned, an unusual ache throbbing in her chest. "What if I'm quiet?" She asked, remaining as lighthearted as possible.

"Go away, Dreamer." He looked at her, red eyes flashing in warning.

The ache deepened. "Did I do something to upset you, Macbeth?" She desperately tried to remember what she might have done. It wasn't as if he wasn't antisocial sometimes, but something felt… wrong. She couldn't describe it. Her magic was picking up on emotions she didn't understand.

"As if you'd ever have enough power over me to make me upset," he scoffed and averted his gaze. "Take a hint, Dream," the way he said her nickname this time was not teasing or endearing, it was mocking, cold as ice. "I'm not interested in spending time with you."

The ache tore through her chest. It felt like her ribs were being torn open to expose a bruising organ.

"What's your problem?" She snapped, instinctively defensive.

He dropped the plate with a clatter back onto the counter. He leaned over the counter, bringing his face near hers. A cruel smirk touched his lips. She was frozen in his blood-red gaze, lip trembling when he reached up and grabbed her chin.

"Look at you." He practically hissed. "Pathetic."

Tears welled in her eyes.

"It was fun to play with you for a while, Dreamer," he flicked a strand of her hair, "but it's gotten boring." He yawned, as if to prove his point. "You're too predictable. I think I'll move on to something else. That blonde, Lucy. She seems to have some very expressive reactions."

She yanked her head away from him and lifted her hand. He grabbed her wrist harshly before she could slap him.

"Hit me again and I'll make you suffer." His voice was an icy threat, no humor in it at all.

She gasped through a sudden onslaught of tears. "W-Why are you acting like this?! This isn't the Macbeth that I know! You're acting just like the old you! What happened?!"

"I may have a new guild mark, Dreamer, but I am the same man." He smirked. "Does that disappoint you?"

She ripped her hand away from him and rubbed her wrist where his fingers had been.

"How could you treat me like this?!" The tears rolled down her face, sobs wracking her body. "I thought we… I thought you—"

"Cared about you?" He rolled his eyes. "I cared about you so long as you could bring me some form of entertainment. Now that you have nothing to offer me, I have no interest in you whatsoever."

She put her face in her hands and her knees shook, barely supporting her weight.

"M-Macbeth, why…" She sobbed violently and looked up at him through her tears. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

For the briefest moment, an emotion passed over his face. Fear. Regret. Sorrow. But in a flash, it was gone. His face was void of any feeling. Instead of answering, he turned and left the kitchen—cookies and milk forgotten on the counter—door slamming behind him as he practically fled the room.

Once he was gone, she fell to her knees and wept. The strange emotions she'd felt still lingered in the air around her. They were like a code she couldn't decipher. She knew there was fear there, but there were so many other things too. She couldn't understand. And his cruel words stirred up her own emotions, just making it even more confusing.

In all the times she'd had an episode and wallowed in the combined pain and sorrow and hurt of dozens of people, she'd never felt this bad. This was some form of nameless anguish that made her whole body hurt. All she could do was gasp for breath as she tried not to drown, wondering why Macbeth had shoved her down into these waters.

I have no interest in you whatsoever.

She stumbled back out into the guild hall, tears soaking her shirt. Mira looked up in surprise and Dreamer ran into her arms.

"Mirajane!" She clung to her best friend like a life-raft in the ocean. Waves pulling her down, choking her, filling her with salt water that escaped through tear ducts.

"Sh, sh," Mira stroked her hair. "Let's get you home."

Just outside of the opposite kitchen door, Macbeth slid against the wall. His eyes closed, lips a straight line. He wrapped his arms around himself, each hand touching a guild mark on each shoulder.

Fairy Tail. Oracion Seis.

Oracion Seis. Fairy Tail.