Mirajane's boat of a car growled up the long driveway and rolled to a stop just beyond the garage. He'd washed his hands and tried to tidy things but there wasn't much to be done about the mess. She stepped out of the car and brought with her a cloud of lilac. The clang of the door slamming shut disturbed Law in the corner but the old dog let his head fall back against the cushion when he realized their visitor was only Laxus's grouchy girlfriend.

She stood in the mouth of the garage looking pale and unlike herself. Laxus planted his hands on his hips and tried not to go to her. Mirajane had a system of boundaries and barbwire all around her. He'd learned early on that he needed to let her come to him. Those boundaries had all been redrawn after the death of her parents, though, and he was still struggling to adapt.

On this particular day, Laxus was feeling petty. He understood Mirajane's position but couldn't quite help his frustration with her. Temporary meanness he could handle – her claws were one of the things he loved most about her – but the way she'd shut him out of the situation was over the line.

"So," he drawled. "You've decided to grace us with your presence at last."

"Us?"

Laxus jerked his chin over his shoulder. "Me and Law. We're buddies."

"I only came to see one of you. The other can get fucked."

"You'll hurt his feelings, Mira," Laxus said with a smirk.

"I meant you." She grinned but it fell away quickly. Mirajane's eyes rolled upward and she sighed. Laxus watched her carefully. She'd never been a crier but he'd seen her cry twice now in the space of a couple weeks. "I think there's a problem," she whispered.

"With the baby?" His body felt suddenly rigid.

"No, Laxus," she snapped. "With Law." Her emotions got the better of her and she began to cry. Laxus crossed the garage and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"How do you know?" he whispered into her hair.

"I started bleeding a bit ago and isn't that a pretty solid sign?"

"Was it a lot?"

Mirajane pushed him away and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had no makeup on to smear or run but she still didn't like the wetness on her face.

"Enough for me to change some clothes." She glanced up at him and pursed her lips. "I don't know what to do."

"You should see a doctor."

"But if I miscarry then why do I need to see a doctor? I wasn't even showing!"

Laxus ran his hands over his face in frustration. "Because you don't know what's going on in there! Isn't it better to be safe?"

"Women miscarry all the time," Mirajane insisted.

"I'm not telling you what to do, Mirajane." She flinched at the use of her full name. "But you need to wake the fuck up. This pregnancy isn't just gonna go away because you want it to."

"Laxus, you don't understand."

"You're right," he snapped. "I sure fucking don't, but you can't keep treating this like you have all the time in the world to make a choice. Get rid of it, keep it, whatever. But make a choice so I can make plans on how to support you best."

"I never asked for this," she whispered. "If mom and dad were still alive –"

"Well, they're not. So tough shit." She scowled up at him but Laxus was sick of her tiptoeing. "I didn't ask for my mom to die and I didn't ask for my dad to walk out and leave me here with Gramps. I didn't ask to get stuck caring for a stubborn old man and living off my shit wages and his disability!" He inched closer to her. "But that's my life. And it's happening whether I like it or not."

"You're right," she admitted. Laxus felt the wind in his sails dissipate. He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly. "I should make an appointment."

"Well… good," he stammered. "Great. Find out what's going on and then decide what you're going to do. Just stop shutting me out, for fuck's sake."

"I'm sorry. I was just –"

"Panicking? You can panic." He grinned. "Panic all you want. But I'm on your side."

"Elf thinks –"

"I don't care what the boy who's getting a free ride out of this town thinks," Laxus whispered, kissing her. His hands settled on her neck and his perpetually stained fingertips slid into her hair. "It's not his choice."

"Lisanna knows."

"Good."

Mirajane pulled back. "Good?"

"She's old enough to know." Laxus shrugged and pulled her back against him. He retreated into the shelter of the garage when the sound of thunder rolled through the darkening clouds.

"I'm worried about her." Mirajane followed him to the back of the truck. She hopped up to the tailgate and touched the hem of his white t-shirt. Laxus watched her fingertips trace over the lines of the tattoo that peeked out of the waistband of his jeans – the one he wished he could remove. She knew he hated it.

"You're always worried about other people," he whispered. "Do you ever worry about yourself or is that only my job?"

"You worry about me?" She smiled and pulled him between her knees. Mirajane relaxed against his chest and he curled a strand of her hair around one dirty finger.

Not for the first time, Laxus wondered what she was doing with him. Maybe she liked the fingerprints he sometimes left on her thighs. Maybe she liked that he was completely predictable. Whatever the reasons, he didn't want her to ever change her mind.

"Stay here tonight."

"I can't leave Lisanna alone."

"She's not alone," Laxus insisted. "Your brother's there."

Mirajane said nothing for several breaths. Finally, she smiled up at him. "Okay. What's for dinner, then?"

"Uh –" Laxus flushed and she laughed softly.

"You just want a girl in the kitchen."

"Not any girl. Just you."

"You're such a useless brute." She leaned up to kiss him and slid off the tailgate. "Order a pizza. I'm not cooking."

Mirajane retrieved her phone and bag from her car and started poking out text messages. Laxus whistled for Law who followed them out of the garage and into the house just as the rain began to sprinkle.

"What the fuck," Erza whispered. The photos weren't great quality but Jellal and Lisanna were clearly together on the front stoop of the Strauss residence. She squinted at the last two pictures and tried to zoom in. It looked like there might've been a kiss involved but she couldn't be completely sure.

The next set of photos, as Simon claimed in his text messages, had been taken that morning. Lisanna had her arms around Jellal's middle and he seemed to have allowed the embrace – which by itself meant nothing. His arms were at his sides. If anything illicit had happened, Erza was certain Simon would've sent her a hundred shots of it.

'Well?' She could hear Simon's voice in her head as she read his texts. 'Convinced now? Sorry you had to find out this way.'

'Fuck off. Stop stalking people. Don't make me block you.'

Her response was as kind as she could be. In truth, Erza didn't think Jellal was having any kind of thing with Lisanna. The poor girl was a train wreck – how could she not be – and Jellal was a very good listener and friend. But if Lisanna kissed him then…

"Erza?" Eileen peeked into her bedroom. She was dressed in a button up shirt and a pencil skirt. Not her typical Saturday attire.

"Are you really working on a Saturday?"

Eileen's mouth curved into a grimace. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I need to check on a few things if I want to enjoy my Sunday."

"They don't deserve you."

"They don't." Eileen truly smiled and Erza, again, thought her mother the most beautiful woman alive. "Are you okay for dinner? I'll leave you some cash if you want to order in. It's about to rain so it might be a good idea to be on top of that."

"Thanks, mom. I may run over to see Jellal."

Eileen stepped into the room and leaned against the frame. "Are you two okay? Things have been awful quiet on that front these last few days."

"We had a stupid fight." Erza picked at the quilting of her duvet. "It was my fault and things escalated. I'm going to try and fix it."

"You don't think a phone call would be good enough? I don't think it's a good idea for you to be out when there's thunder rattling the windows."

Erza shrugged. "I don't know if he'd take my call. It's kind of a mess. I think…" She trailed off and sighed. "I think his meds are messed up. He's been pretty out of character lately."

"Has he told his mother?"

"Mom," Erza said dryly. "Anna isn't exactly on top of things."

"I'm sorry, my love. I know things are complicated. They almost always are." She smiled again. "He's lucky to have you."

"I feel really bad for saying all the stuff I said. I wasn't thinking."

"You'll fix it. You're my daughter."

"Thanks, mom." Thunder cracked what felt like right outside her window. Erza jumped.

"Get your jacket and I'll drive you over." Eileen slid her feet into a pair of heels and disappeared down the hallway.

Erza glanced over at the window and bit her lip. She'd never been a fan of thunderstorms. Loud sudden noises reminded her of being a small child cowering under her bed as her short-tempered father, bolstered by his rank and position on the military base, would stalk through the house slamming doors and punching walls. She'd felt helpless and terrified for both herself and her mother. It had been years since Eileen had packed their things in garbage bags and left the base behind in the middle of the day but Erza would never forget the banging and pounding.

Her thoughts rewound to the study table in the library. The sound of Simon kicking a chair into the leg of Jellal's table made her uneasy. Watching Jellal nearly snap and radiate an uncharacteristic aura of violence still made her uneasy.

"Erza!" Eileen called from somewhere in the house. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" Erza pulled on her shoes and a hooded jacket. From her backpack pocket, she grabbed her keys. As her fingers brushed the light switch panel, Erza's eyes caught on something orange. The small vanity table in the corner was crowded with bottles of perfume, body spray, lotions, and hair creams – but one bottle stood out. It was orange and had a white label. On impulse, Erza backtracked across the room and snatched the bottle off the table. She stuffed it into her pocket and flipped off the light.

Eileen was quiet for the majority of the short drive to the Fernandes home. When she pulled halfway into the driveway she turned to Erza.

"I'll be home late. Text me if you need anything and I'll let you know when I'm on my way home."

"Thanks for the ride, mom." Erza unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"Do you think Jellal will be okay driving you home?"

"He'd never make me walk when there's thunder," Erza whispered. "Even if he's still mad."

Eileen left her in the driveway and Erza dashed for the covered patio. By the time she rang the doorbell, her heart was racing and her hands felt clammy – and not just because of the thunder. She didn't want to imagine a situation where Jellal told her to leave him alone forever.

The house remained silent and Erza panicked. She ran back out into the rain to peer around the side of the house. Jellal's truck was parked but the house looked dark. When she returned to the patio her jacket was dotted with rain and she shivered. Erza sucked in a deep breath and knocked. She knocked hard and, hopefully, loud.

More silence.

She considered the consequences of just walking inside for only a moment before deciding her need to see Jellal outweighed anything else. The front door was unlocked. Jellal's father's money afforded his family a home in the nicest part of the subdivision and Erza braced herself for the alarm she knew they had on every door and window but none came. Erza fidgeted. The house felt empty. She should just leave but… she couldn't.

Erza pulled her hands into the sleeves of her jacket and balled the wads of jersey cotton into her fists. She left the foyer behind to start on a familiar trek. Jellal's bedroom was on the second floor at the far end of the house. It was a corner room with a tiny private bathroom and window seat. He often joked that their house was one step away from McMansion status. Her shoes crushed against the carpet and Erza wondered if the house was sentient somehow and devoured any signs of life or noise.

She paused in front of his door and rallied herself before knocking. No response.

"Fuck!" She whispered in frustration. Erza's eyes fell to the floor and she saw a faint light trying to escape under the door but it was eaten alive by the high pile carpet. She knocked again and pressed her ear to the door. "Jellal?"

Erza thought of the pill bottle still safely in her pocket. Even if Jellal wasn't home she wanted to leave him the bottle. Maybe it wouldn't be snooping if she just popped into his room and left it along with a note? Erza's hand closed around the doorknob and when she pushed the door open she nearly had a heart attack.

Jellal sat hunched over his desk with a pair of noise-canceling headphones on his ears. The ones she'd bought him for his fifteenth birthday. No wonder he hadn't heard her ring the doorbell or knock. Erza cleared her throat loudly and crossed the room. She hesitated for a moment before touching his shoulder softly. He jumped and spun around in his chair.

"Erza!" he said way too loud. Jellal pulled the headphones off and she could hear the music blasting from them. He blinked and shut his laptop. "What, uh – what are you doing… here?"

"I rang the bell," she said quickly. "And knocked."

"Is Lucy gone?"

"Uh, I don't know." She cleared her throat again awkwardly. "Listen, I wasn't sure if you'd take my call so I thought I'd just come by." Erza fumbled with the sleeves of her jacket and her pocket. Finally, she thrust the pill bottle at him. "I didn't want to embarrass you in school," she said in an almost whisper. "I could be wrong but… well, these are yours anyway."

Jellal took the bottle from her and inspected the label. His eyes flit back to her in surprise.

"And –" Erza sighed and felt her shoulders droop. "You aren't yourself, Jellal. You don't get into fights, especially not with oafy fucks like Simon. I know this is an old dose, and it's not exactly what you need but I wanted you to have it. Your mom is… well, your mom and I know sometimes –"

Erza stopped talking when he set aside the bottle and threw his arms around her in a tight embrace. Her hands came up to settle on his back.

"Thank you," he whispered into her neck. "I don't deserve you, Erza."

"You're right," she murmured. "You don't deserve a girlfriend who lets some asshole poke holes in your relationship. I'm so sorry, Jellal." The tears were on her cheeks and his shoulder before she could even try to hold them back.

Jellal grasped her arms and pulled away just enough to touch his forehead to hers.

"Erza, I really, really want to talk about this. All of it. I didn't handle things very well either and have continued to be an asshole. I'm sorry."

"Jellal –"

"You're right. My mom hasn't refilled my meds and I'm all over the place."

"Does your dad know?" She peered into his eyes and found a soft part of him she hadn't seen for a long time. The part of him that felt completely lost and out of control. This Jellal she knew belonged in the past before they'd put a name to his symptoms.

"I'm afraid to tell him," he said plainly. "If I tell him she's drinking again and dumping her anti-depressants down the drain he'll come home and I don't want him to feel like he has to do that."

"He's your dad, Jellal. He's an adult. He should know what's going on."

"I promised him I'd keep an eye on her. I promised him –"

"Jellal," she whispered, sliding her hands and arms around his shoulders. "He's the adult. Tell him. Tell him because you deserve to have a parent who acts like one. This isn't your broken promise, it's your mom's."

"You're right," he whispered. "You're always right."

Erza laughed quietly and brushed her lips over his cheek. "I think it's a pretty equal balance."

"I'll call him." Jellal squeezed her once before stepped back. "I know we need to talk about this, Erza, but I can't… my head's a mess."

"It's okay," she said smoothing the collar of his wrinkled t-shirt. "We can pause that for now." Jellal studied her face closely and Erza bit her lip. "Was there something else?"

"Lisanna kissed me," he blurted. Erza blinked in surprise. "I mean, she apologized right away. I was so surprised I just kind of sat there," he went on hurriedly. "She didn't mean it. Please don't hate her, Erza, she's got a lot of stuff right now and I'm sorry I can't tell you but they're her secrets, not mine."

Erza touched the edge of his jaw with the pad of her thumb. So Simon's pictures hadn't been contrived. She decided she didn't care.

"You don't have to tell me what's in her closet," Erza whispered, feeling heavy bricks slide off her chest. "You're a good friend and I trust you."

"But –"

"Simon sent me a bunch more pictures," she whispered. "If he keeps sending them, I'll tell Mirajane to report him to the police. I know she kissed you. And I don't care."

"You don't?"

Erza sighed. "Lisanna needs a friend and if that's you then… I don't care. I don't want to ever tell you who you can talk to or whatever." She smiled. "Have you been keeping that on the tip of your tongue?"

"From the moment you barged into my room, yeah," he said with a real smile.

"My mom doesn't want me to walk home in this rain."

"I can take you home," Jellal offered, touching the still damp hair that hung over her shoulder. "Maybe you could stay for a little bit?"

"You're not busy?" she asked, glancing over at his laptop.

"Nope. I finished the work I fucked up this morning with Lisanna and I was only alphabetizing my music files with new tags."

Erza pursed her lips. He only ever did detailed tasks like that over and over when he couldn't focus on anything else. "Yeah, I'll stay."

Jellal leaned in and kissed her. Erza's heart pounded in her chest and she pushed him back just enough to breathe.

"We still need to clear the air on a few things," she whispered.

"You're right." Jellal kissed her again and slid his fingers into her hair.

"And I still want to talk about how we handle interference."

"Of course." He pushed her jacket over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. Erza toed off her shoes and tugged at his t-shirt.

"But I think for right now –"

Jellal sealed his mouth over hers and Erza stopped talking. They could talk about all that other stuff later.

Eileen tapped her fingernails on the glossy varnish of her desk and sighed. Rain pelted the windows behind her. She wished she could be anywhere but the office. At least she knew Erza wasn't home alone. It wasn't a thing they talked about but she knew her daughter was terrified of thunder – a thing for which she blamed herself. Leaving her nightmare of a husband had been too long in coming.

Her eyes focused on the spinning rainbow dot in the center of her laptop screen. In the big city a rainstorm would never bother the internet connection the way it did in a small town with old wiring and utilities.

She spun around in her chair and watched the raindrops slide down the glass. Eileen reached up to pull the clip from her hair and rubbed her scalp where the clasp had dug into her skin. When she stood and kicked off her heels – a luxury she'd never dream of attempting during the workweek – she whirled around to pace the length of her office. On the second circuit she noticed the grey post crate. It stuck out like a sore thumb and she wondered how distracted she'd been before not to have noticed it.

Eileen knelt, a difficult task in her skirt, and picked through the packages. They were all identical yellow legal envelopes. No return address. No visible postage – despite the crate with the official post office logo on the side. Her name had been printed neatly in a script she didn't recognize. Eileen frowned and plucked one of the envelopes from the crate. She slid her finger under the seal and tore it open.

Inside the envelope were a number of photographs of a man she recognized immediately. He didn't have the same platinum hair his wife had managed to pass on to all three of their children but Bernard Strauss's bright blue eyes were hard to miss. Eileen flipped through the photos. None of them were particularly noteworthy.

Curiosity got the better of her and she tore into another one of the packages. Most of these were taken of Bernard and his wife in any number of public places, including the park where they'd both been brutally murdered. Eileen huffed in frustration and opened a third package. These widened her eyes and chilled her bones.

Bernard in his home. Bernard at the dinner table with his family. Bernard's wife, Emma, sleeping in their bed. And even more of the two of them unclothed doing things most married couples wouldn't want photographed.

"What is this?" Eileen whispered. She returned all the photographs to their envelopes and flipped through the packages again. One in particular was thicker than the others. Eileen slid her finger under the sealed flap and hissed when the stiff edge sliced open her finger. She licked away the blood before pulling out what felt like an entire ream of copy paper.

The words were printed in what looked like old school typeset. She recognized plenty of the names. They ranged from city officials to police officers. Ivan Dreyar's name appeared more than once along with the name Dragneel and Heartfilia. Somewhere in the middle of the stack was a cash ledger. So many zeroes.

Eileen held the stack of papers to her chest and stood. She fished a bandaid from her desk drawer – the one with the spare tissues, tampons, and a change of clothes for emergencies – and fell into her chair. The file had finally finished uploading but Eileen's interest was now elsewhere. She typed out a quick text to Erza that she'd be home later than originally anticipated and started scanning over each and every page.

Something was festering in the underbelly of the small town where she'd spent most of her life and it reeked of blood and dirty cash.