What does prisoner mean?

Trapped.

Helpless.

I've spent a lifetime as such. In my dreams. In my memories. I am prisoner to myself. I am prisoner to her. I am bound, foolishly. For only fools are so bound.

I will not panic.

She will crack.

Erza, dress crumpled around her waist, hair askew at odd angles, cheeks pinked first with excitement, then with anger and an emotion that she knew for certain was terror-laced-love, stood stationary, firmly stapled in place while she looked at the boy-turned-man she had loved for all of her life. Numbly, she reached up and touched her throbbing lips, then her aching neck; the hickey burned—maybe it was in her head.

Time was inconsequential for as long as she was immobile. She couldn't stay that way forever, though. Eventually, thoughts returned to her and she realized that she had to do something other than just stare at him.

"How dare you?" And, seemingly more importantly, "Is it really you?" Her dark eyes bore into his skin.

"What does your heart tell you?"

Erza squeezed the hem of her dress so hard her knuckles turned white. "My heart?" Her heart. Her heart. There were things that didn't seem to add up with Siegrain. Times when he was just a little too much like Jellal. She couldn't ignore the similarities anymore. It's true. Gods. She was furious. "It tells me that you've been lying to me for weeks. How could you?" Her voice shook with barely contained rage on the last.

He said simply, "I had to see you."

"So you impersonated a council member?" Erza raged. "You hired me to get back your fucking pin and then—then you played me for a fool? That's excessive, isn't it? Does this bring you pleasure or something, knowing that you're tormenting me?"

"I'm sorry; my methods were underhanded, but..." Real shame kissed his words, confusing her.

Erza grabbed his shirt, bringing them nose-to-nose. "Underhanded? I spent hours lying awake wondering how I could—" She trailed off but regrouped. "How I could kiss Siegrain when every time I looked at him all I thought about was you! I was guilty, Jellal."

He hung on her every word and spilled, "I love you, Erza," as he might spill blood. Painfully. Carefully.

Erza could do nothing for several long seconds, struck immobile.

"I know it was wrong and it must have been hard, but it was hard for me too. You're all I've thought about. I should never have—"

"Don't." The word was strained.

"Don't tell you how I feel?"

"No—don't lie!" she snapped.

Jellal touched her without regard, smoothing her hair back from her face as he had before. It was the same hands as before only now the touch seemed so… indecent. He gave to her beautiful words. "I wouldn't lie about that. You've been on my mind every day since you left. I haven't ever stopped thinking about you, regretting the way we parted ways. I love you, Erza."

"Stop."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You can shut your mouth and stop talking, and—" She pushed his hands aside. "You can stop touching me, too."

He didn't care about her threats as someone else might. "You knew my feelings were genuine when you thought I was Siegrain, why is this different?"

She tripped up, falling quiet for a moment. Don't believe him. "Why are you always trying to hurt me? What did I ever do?"

"You left me!" he shot back, the words filled with so much rage that she flinched. "You fucking left me, Erza. I needed you and you left me as soon as things got tough."

It's true, a cruel voice whispered. Erza didn't bow to it, though her foundation was weakened. She got mean. "You told me to leave! You killed people, Jellal, imprisoned children—our friends—and then you just kept on making that goddamn tower. So don't try to place the blame on me."

His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I had to keep building it."

Erza searched his eyes. "You didn't have to, you wanted to. There is a difference."

"No, no, no, Erza." He met her gaze steadily and, Gods help them all, he was sincere. "I wasn't myself. I was possessed, please believe me."

"You think that's going to work, Jellal? Telling me a line like that?" But you know the change that befell him that day was unnatural. She didn't know why she was working against herself.

"Just listen. They locked me away in that room. I was so helpless the only thing I could do was pray, Erza. I prayed that you would be okay, I prayed for everyone's freedom. There was no god that answered me though, it was Zeref." Jellal's voice was calm. Reasonable. He'd thought this speech through... "He wasn't benevolent or kind, but he gave me the means to free everyone."

"He was evil. You knew that even then."

Jellal didn't apologize. "The slavers were going to kill you, so what other choice did I have but to accept his help?"

Clearly, she could remember all the blood as Jellal cut through the men. "If it's true, the only thing Zeref gave you was the means to slaughter."

His voice got hard. "There are a lot of things I need to apologize for but that won't be one of them. Those men were going to kill you. How could I do anything but what I did?"

Part of her hated that he used her as justification for murder, part of her was almost... glad that he was willing to go so far for her. That's twisted. But so was love.

"And as for afterward, when the Tower was mine… I never made our friends work harder than they could, Erza. I was good to them. I gave them food and shelter. I made them happy."

"I don't believe you." She tried to wear her rage like a shroud. It was turning threadbare.

"You can ask them yourself—I set them all free."

Erza looked for the lies and could see none. Her eyes filled with tears and spilled over. She wiped them away before Jellal could; he was going to; she saw it on his face. She cleared her throat. "Truly? Everyone is free?"

"I swear it."

"It's done then, the Tower of Heaven? You completed it?"

Jellal turned his gaze to the ground. "No. It remains incomplete."

"Why?"

"Zeref—he left me." His voice hitched in all the right places.

"Why?" Erza asked again.

"I don't know," Jellal said shortly. He drew in breath and said more calmly, "I wasn't worthy."

There was still the presence of something manic in him, some hinge that squeaked every time he said Zeref's name. Erza wanted to hear more. "Tell me about it."

Jellal hesitated. "At first when he abandoned me, I felt alone, confused and angry. It took days, but eventually, some of my old self started returning and I knew then what I had been doing was wrong. It was then I sent everyone away."

"And how did you end up here? In the council, no less?"

He looked away from her. "The things I've done haunt me. Joining the council—I did it to try to do some good, to atone for my sins. Then they stationed me here in Fiore and I saw you. My pin being stolen was a happy coincidence. After I hired you and you completed the job, I was going to stay away. I should have. But I couldn't. You were all I could think about. I was going mad without you. I wanted to fix things, Erza, and this was the only way I knew how."

He had pretty words. Don't waver. "You're polluted."

"No longer. I am myself," Jellal insisted. "Please believe me."

Erza tried to be rational. "Why would Zeref's spirit possess you and then just leave?" It didn't make sense, though she wanted it to.

Jellal blinked at her morosely. "I spent a lot of time asking myself that, feeling useless, feeling worthless. I lived for Zeref for so long, gave up so much… and then just to have him leave? I felt broken. I still don't have an answer, but you called me back from my darkest hour, Erza."

Such pretty, pretty words.

He wasn't done with them yet. "Help me redeem myself. I want to, but I—I'm afraid I can't do it alone."

More tears plagued Erza. "How can I believe you? All you've done is lie."

"Because I love you."

She shook her head. "Please." Why did that could out so pleadingly?

"I do, Erza, I love you."

Just like she loved him. It couldn't be helped. Erza watched him lean forward. She felt his mouth on hers. She didn't push him away; couldn't. She didn't kiss him back, either, though, and considered that good enough. He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her more thoroughly. I'm drowning, Erza thought. Dying never felt so sweet. A tiny, muffled moan slipped from her chest without her permission.

Jellal whispered, "Will you help me be better?"

Even if she knew he played at her weaknesses, she wouldn't have done a thing to change it. "It's what you truly want?"

"Yes."

"Then... Yes."

He busied her mouth again. The kiss was bitter-sweet now that she knew it was truly him. Every touch felt new again. Erza put all of her doubts away in a box and focused on his mouth moving from her mouth to her neck, his teeth grazing in a bite. Even as she tipped her head to offer him more skin she said, "I don't think this—it's not a good idea."

"No," Jellal agreed against her throat. "It's not really, is it?"

She squeezed his shoulders by way of answer.

His mouth slowed. "Pull away, if you want. I won't stop you." Then he waited for her patiently, fingers slowly grazing the inside of her thigh.

"Do you—promise—" Erza shivered and found her train of thought again. "I can trust you?"

"You're safe."

His hands were at it again, making her head empty. Erza spoke as much to remind herself as him. "I still don't forgive you."

"I would expect nothing less." He rubbed his thumb over her center and kissed her slowly. Erza did everything in her power to keep it that way. He moved his hips into hers and she forgot.

"Black."

"Mm?"

"Like midnight," Jellal told her. He gathered the strap of her bra in his teeth and she understood. "And red. Like sunsets."

Pretty, pretty words. Erza abandoned her hesitancy and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I've missed you."

"We won't leave each other again."