Rain drilled through Juvia's meager long-sleeved T-shirt and soaked her straight to her skin. The Briar's Lock's door slammed closed behind her and didn't open again. She didn't know why she thought it would—well. No. that was a lie. She knew exactly why she hoped it would, but Gray didn't follow. Not to tell her that it was a lie, though she knew it wasn't, not to tell her that it didn't matter, though how could it not, with the way he was acting, and not to tell her that he was sorry for darting around the truth for so. long.
She dragged her suitcase, not really sure where she was going—no trains were running at this hour—and noticed that her crimson bra was hanging out the side. It was saturated like everydamnthing else. She didn't bother fixing it.
Annoyance pushed out hurt. She wracked her brain for some place to go. The only place in Magnolia even remotely equipped to accept travellers was Briar's Lock, or the Thorn and Thistle. The latter had three rooms above the dingy tavern. They were usually reserved for whores, citizens that were down and out on their luck and could afford nothing more, or people like her. In a pinch with no where else to go.
She cringed at the thought of sleeping in those lice-infested rooms. But what else was there? She couldn't go back to the motel. What if she saw Lucy? Or Gray? Or them together again? 'She was asking about you. About us.'
About us. About us. Like it was a real life thing.
The rain came harder. Juvia tipped her head up and scowled at the ominous clouds. Of course, it didn't stop the rain. It never did. It only made her more frustrated.
Huffing, she did the only thing she could to get away from it: entered the Thorn and Thistle.
It was full tonight, bursting with locals that spent their money trying to eke out a good time. It didn't matter that they had almost none to spend. The floor was wooden, sodden with years and years of spilled beer. The whole place was rank in the way only old bars were, smelling of a thick mixture of human and alcohol. In the corner, a woman wearing a huge cloak fiddled with the juke box while a score of men hung at her elbows. Music started to pour out, some upbeat tune Juvia had no patience for. She approached the man working the bar. He was tall and rake-thin, with a well-groomed blonde head of hair, and an equally well-groomed beard. He meticulously dried a glass.
She stood at the bar for several long seconds, wedged between two burly men who wore equal expressions of disdain, wet where she touched them. She ignored their looks; to not was to be miserable. "Excuse me," she said finally, sick of going unnoticed. She'd spent most of her life that way, just the gloomy girl no one wanted to be around.
The bartender glanced up. He had nice eyes, green, fringed with dark lashes. "Yeah?" If only he wasn't so crass.
Juvia cleared her throat. "I'm looking for a room."
"All full."
Her heart sank. "You have nothing?"
"Nope."
"Are you sure? I'll take anything. It's just for the night; I'm moving on in the morning."
"Briar's right across the road. They got plenty of vacancies. Want me to call over?"
"No," Juvia said sharply. "I—I don't want to stay there. Please."
"Sorry, lady, it just can't be done."
"Kel, are you giving the girl a hard time?" asked a honeyed voice.
Juvia turned and was surprised to see that the men beside her had vanished. Now the woman in the cloak occupied the space at her right elbow. Beneath the fabric's sateen folds, her hair was as red as garnets, her eyes as black as midnight. Around her throat was a macabre necklace of sharp-looking grey teeth.
Kel, the bartender, got a dazed look in his eye. "No, Eileen—"
"Lady Eileen," she corrected, "Remember?"
"Yes, Lady," he said.
"So." Eileen leaned her elbows on the counter. "What seems to be the problem?"
Kel blinked his eyes clear. "She wants a room and we have no openings."
Eileen's smile was beatific. "Is that all? I'm actually leaving tonight, Kel, so she can have my room."
"You're leaving?" he repeated.
"Yes, Sir." She tapped the counter where his hand was limply splayed. "Things to do. You understand. There's a man that requires my attention, and he hates to be ignored."
Juvia wished she could tune them out, but the woman was the kind that sucked up all of the attention in the room. She found herself eyeing her even when she made an effort not to. Eileen was beautiful—in a frightening kind of way. Her mouth was more than a little malicious, her eyes brimming with a mean kind of mirth.
"This man… he's your lover?" Kel asked.
Juvia wished Gray would look at her the way Kel was looking at Eileen. Worshipfully. She didn't think anyone had ever looked at her like that before. Never? Unwittingly, she recalled Gray laying in their bed, naked from the waist up, eyes heavy-lidded as she walked from the washroom in his favorite lingerie. In the interest of torturing herself, she wondered if he looked at Lucy in the same way. Lucy, who didn't kill his father. Lucy who always had a smile for everyone.
"Heavens." Eileen's laughed dragged Juvia back to the bar. "If only. A good toss would loosen him up, I think."
Kel looked both relieved and slightly outraged.
"Enough of that. Pour the girl a drink, get her a hot meal, Kel, and I'll take her to the room, alright?" Eileen asked.
"Oh," Juvia finally spoke. "I'm not hungry." She couldn't even imagine eating. Her stomach was churning so much; she'd probably just throw it right back up.
"Don't be silly." She grabbed Juvia's arm and started leading her away. Juvia followed on wooden legs, unsure of why she moved, just knowing that she did.
When Gray didn't offer explanation or return, Lucy decided that it was something Private. She turned away from the hallway, taking the set of stairs nearest to her. Halfway down, she wondered if Loke was going to ditch her, but as soon as she thought that, the air glimmered at her side. He stepped out and started down the stairs as well, not missing a beat. He'd changed into something more comfortable, a fitted green hoody and a black pair of slim fit cargos. On his feet were a pair of boots that looked as though they would have taken hours to lace. She revaluated her initial assessment. Maybe he was trying to look casual, but he'd put some thought into his wardrobe. Then again, Loke always worried about crap like that.
"Trying to pick up in our favorite dive?" Lucy asked facetiously, trying to dig at him for leaving her alone with Gray.
There was a joke on his tongue. If it was anyone else, at any other time, Loke would have ribbed into her. He refrained, knowing that the wound was rawer than ever. "You never know when romance is going to strike." He grinned savagely.
"If I did things like carry condoms, I'd hand you one and give you a safe sex talk."
"I think that's my shtick." To Lucy's horror, he dug through his pocket and pulled out a square package, tucking it into her hand. "I know it's easy to forget, but don't put it on too tight. If it rips—"
"Loke—"
"Use a new one, that one's useless." He took out another and gave her that one as well. "For backup."
"Seriously? Do you just have a pile of them on you at all times?" Her face was hot.
"Why do you think I wear cargos?" He winked. "Roll it on, from the tip to—"
"Okay!" she said loudly, truly embarrassed now. "Enough."
Loke's grin was a hundred watt. "I don't want you to be unprepared."
Lucy shook her head and walked faster, thankful that Loke didn't tease her when she didn't give them back.
One really did never know.
The rain outside came down harder than ever. Loke popped open the umbrella and held it high. It helped keep Lucy's head dry, but it was pouring so much now that when the raindrops hit the ground, they splashed back up and soaked her shoes. Wardrobe fail. She didn't grumble—aloud at least.
"What did Gray and Juvia want?" Loke asked.
"…I actually didn't get an answer," Lucy admitted. "Gray took off without saying anything, and I didn't even see Juvia."
"Alright… maybe they're doing their own thing."
Under the Thorn and Thistle's awning, the downpour was restricted. Loke closed up the umbrella, then grabbed open the door and ushered Lucy inside. The bar was busier than he remembered it ever being before—though, when the options were so limited, he wasn't sure why he was surprised.
Lucy surveyed the room. "I could totally do without ever coming back here again."
"Come on." Loke took her hand and led her to the bar, fighting for a place at the counter. A woman with long dark hair turned to scowl at him. Her expression turned to a smile when she took him in, though. Lucy rolled her eyes. Nothing ever changed; women loved Loke. Always. She grabbed a menu from a stand and flipped through it while her most flirtatious spirit did himself proud.
Movement at the opposite side of the bar caught her eye. Lifting her gaze, she saw a woman in a midnight black cloak turn away from the countertop. That was fine enough, but what really made her pause was the blue haired woman at her side. Juvia's locks, though wet and matted to her head, were unmistakable. Lucy asked for clarification anyway.
"Is that Juvia, Loke?"
Loke halted his conversation and followed Lucy's line of sight. "…Looks like."
"What's she doing here?" She searched next for Gray, yet she knew full well he wasn't there. "And who is she with?"
"No idea."
Lucy wavered, on the verge of going after Juvia. Loke was more decisive than she was, taking a step in the right direction. "Juvia!" His voice carried over the din. She glanced back over her shoulder, met his eyes, then looked at Lucy by his side. Her expression got dark. She turned away from them and hurried faster than before. Loke started to pursue.
Lucy grabbed his hand, halting him. "It looks like she doesn't want to be bothered." The water mage was walking with great purpose; it felt very much like none of Lucy's business.
Loke lagged. The bartender showed at that moment. "What can I get you?"
The fight went out of the spirit. Lucy loosened her grip on his hand. Together they placed their order. Loke got extra.
"Hungry?" Lucy asked.
"I'm going to Gray's room," Loke explained.
Lucy conveyed the last thing Gray had to say about Loke's meddling.
"And that's why I'm going," Loke clarified. He ordered a beer next, to pass the time while they waited for their food. Lucy withheld, her body still remembering last night's whisky.
The woman dragged her through the bar, cutting a swath through the gaggles of men and women. Every eye was on them. When she could, Juvia looked away from Eileen's flowing cloak and caught sight of a table filled to the brim with guards. One in particular caught her eye and held it. Riley Ackles.
"Juvia!" Her name came not from the guards' table, but from the bar. Turning, she saw a familiar blonde figure lingering. Immediately her mind put Gray at her side, but it wasn't Gray she was with. Loke. It was he that called her name. With his suspicions confirmed, he instantly tried to approach. Wanting nothing to do with that, Juvia bit her cheek hard and walked fast enough that she was no longer lagging behind Eileen, but keeping pace.
Through a set of double doors at the back was a dingy room (one dust-laden lightbulb illuminated the place rather inadequately) that smelled like onion and cigarette smoke. Eileen made a hard right and started climbing a set of near-invisible stairs. Juvia held her breath until she was halfway up the long flight and couldn't any longer. The smell of onions was gone, but the cigarettes became even more pungent.
"Thank you for giving me your room," Juvia said in an effort to clear Lucy from her mind.
Eileen murmured her agreement.
"How long have you been staying here?"
"Hm…" Eileen mused. "Too long, really. I'm surprised I haven't been called back sooner."
"Back to what?"
"Work," she said evasively.
"What do you do?" She asked to be polite.
"I hunt, Juvia."
Juvia startled. "How do you know me?"
Eileen laughed. "I don't. Sorry. Your name is on your suitcase."
Juvia glanced down in the wan light and saw the golden name plate on top of her bag shining like a weak sun. "Oh," she said, feeling foolish. Recovering, she asked, "What do you hunt?" Maybe she was a little curious.
"My emperor's most precious creation," she replied in a covert whisper. That mean tilt to her mouth was directed at Juvia now. The water mage felt herself wanting to squirm beneath the look. "I've found the man but not the beast. It's maddening."
"What do you mean?"
Eileen met her eyes squarely. "Never mind."
The thought flew from Juvia's head. "The emperor… You're not from Fiore?" Of course not, though, her accent was slightly… off.
The stairs evened out on the second floor. The hallway diverged, though it didn't have very far to go, twenty feet on either side. This part of the bar was better lit. At least, well enough that Juvia could see the clouds of smoke lingering in the air. Not all of it smelled like cigarettes. Something sweeter.
"Enough about me." Eileen stopped at room number three and produced a brass key from her pocket. "Tell me about you."
"About Juvia?" She felt like her head was all full of cotton.
Eileen leaned against the doorframe, pausing before she opened the room completely. "Well… Juvia…" She laid her hand against Juvia's cheek. "Not really you, specifically. Tell me about Gray Fullbuster. Everything you know."
"Gray-sama?" She hated herself for the way his name came out, still so choked. She couldn't help it. He was a liar. She was furious with him. But she still wanted to love him.
"You got it."
Eileen threw open the door and revealed the room beyond. It was small. Less than three hundred square feet, all told. There was a single cot, a beat up dresser holding a tall, finger-grease-stained brass lamp heavy with cobwebs, and a shag carpet that looked like it hadn't been swept or washed since it was laid on the ground. Against one wall, beneath a small square window, was a heart shaped loveseat.
"Sit." Eileen pointed to the cushions. Juvia hesitated. Eileen pushed between her shoulder blades and Juvia felt her feet moving. She dropped her suitcase by the bed, then went to the couch, taking up one seat, sitting prim and proper, though she only felt like a mess.
Eileen flopped down next to her and kicked her feet up over top of Juvia, heels resting on the armrest like they were very close friends. Juvia was startled, but she didn't push the woman off.
"So," Eileen started. "Gray Fullbuster. Go."
Natsu was yanking on a pair of sweat pants when Lucy and Loke finally returned. The look he gave the blonde was full of relief. Lucy's heart flopped annoyingly, but she smiled all the same, pleased that he was pleased to see her.
"Hey," Loke greeted and passed Natsu an overflowing bag of food. The dragon slayer's stomach grumbled audibly.
"Thanks, man."
"And mine?" Happy asked.
Loke doled out a smaller bag. Then he started to turn away.
"Aren't you going to hang out?" Natsu asked. "We didn't get a chance to catch up earlier." Or say anything to each other at all, really.
Loke glanced at Lucy. The blonde was running a torn towel over her wet legs, then searching through her clothes for a pair of tights. "I was going to go say hey to Gray. I haven't seen him at all."
"Well," Natsu said, "Bring him over. We'll hang out." That way he could try to quell the suspicion he felt riding in his chest like an irate passenger.
"Yeah," Loke said absently. "I'll ask." Then he was gone. The door shut quietly in his wake.
Lucy tugged her tights on beneath her dress. She finished quickly, then went to her own bag of food and dug out the three forks she'd stuffed inside. "Here." She should have only bothered with two. Happy was already elbow-deep in his fish. Natsu took his fork, then set his bag on the scuffed up table and involved himself in the extended task of digging out his mountain of food. Lucy settled in one of the rickety chairs, thinking about right and wrong and truths and killing something good before it even had a chance to grow.
Eileen was like a throneless queen, lounging on that dingy loveseat. She swirled a glass of wine then sipped from it. When she swallowed she said, "Well, Juvia. You've been a wealth of information, but positively depressing."
Juvia realized for the first time in what felt like hours that her eyes were wet. She blinked, coming out of a deep stupor. What…? Bits and pieces came back to her slowly. 'About us.' More tears came. She tried to make a fist but there was also a wine glass in her hand. It was on her tongue. She'd been drinking. She didn't remember that either.
Eileen rolled her eyes and sat up. The warmth her legs left behind on Juvia quickly dissipated. "Yeah. I think that's my cue to leave. Before I go, though, tell me, is it because he slept with busty? Because by the sounds of it, you just weren't a thing when that happened."
Juvia didn't remember giving this woman all of those details. But she must have. She found her voice. It felt like she hadn't spoken for hours. "The lies."
Eileen smiled. "Lies will bury you alive."
Definitely. Gray couldn't dig fast enough, and he was burying her right along with him.
"You should pass along my thanks when you see him next, Juvia. He made my job easier."
"Hunting." She felt so stupid, like her brain was just a touch too slow. Eileen is a hunter. Of…? She had no answer.
The door opened and a woman entered. She was all coral hair and ivory skin and onyx eyes. Beautiful.
"What are you doing here, Akio?" Eileen asked without turning to see their visitor.
"Lady Eileen. I need more teeth." When she spoke, Juvia saw her tongue was thin, her teeth finely pointed. Not human, her mind said. Her skin began to crawl.
"You're scaring my guest," Eileen drawled.
Akio closed her eyes; some of the intensity of her visage faded. Now she was simply beautiful, not stunning. She smiled; her teeth were square and white and neat. Eileen nodded her approval.
"That's better. Now. I gave you teeth already."
"I have gone through them, and still he doesn't wake."
"I told you, the real deal will be the only thing that brings him out."
Juvia watched the conversation, an outsider looking in. "Who are you trying to wake?"
"Never mind," Eileen said absently.
"I thought I had her today, but she fought back and the man's body gave out," Akio said. "The doppelgangers are the best I've been able to do so far."
"I don't see what the problem is," Eileen said. "You know where the girl is, just do the deed and be done with it."
"He looks for me already," Akio said. "He'll kill me if he catches me in the act."
"So? Your purpose is to bring an end to our emperors suffering, sometimes sacrifices must be made. Stop being useless." Eileen wore an expression that made Juvia's heart contract. She'd never seen anyone so cold before. She struggled to sit up, her mind coming awake in increments.
"Now look at what you've done," Eileen muttered. "You've scared her again. Leave, Akio, before I tell His Majesty to send someone new. Someone more capable."
Akio deflated.
Juvia tried to get her feet beneath her. Her body was so sluggish. The feeling only increased when Eileen turned her eyes on her.
"Relax, Juvia. I can think of no reason you should be in danger at the moment."
Juvia's muscles turned to butter.
Akio spoke up again. "She's one of them, isn't she? Master said—"
"I'm aware of his orders," Eileen said. "But this poor thing is already having a bad day. How could I bring myself to make it worse?"
Akio stepped closer. "She's Gray Fullbuster's, is she not? May I have her?"
Eileen looked at Juvia for a long, long time, considering. Finally, she said, "Go, Akio. You have things to do, if I'm not mistaken."
It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. Akio offered Juvia a grin. "I think we'll have fun together."
Eileen lifted her hand and snapped her fingers. The other woman just… vanished. "Parasitic thing. I told His Majesty to just get rid of her, but… He's fond of all of his creations. They have a special place in his heart, I suppose." The woman sat up and patted Juvia's knee companionably. "Don't worry about that, Juvia. She'll leave you be for the night at least. Now, there is a man downstairs that wants to buy a girl drinks."
Juvia blinked slowly. She felt like she was rising from a dream. "Gray-sama?"
Eileen's smile could have cut diamonds. "Of course not. He's off nursing his wounds. But really now, after everything you just told me, you want him to chase after you?"
Juvia bit her lip hard, punishing herself. "Not if he loves someone else." Even if she loved him.
"And rightfully so. Get a backbone, Juvia. Have some fun. Kick the dead weight for the little while that you can; you'll feel better afterwards." She stood, stretching like a languid cat. "Come on. Put a new dress on and get back downstairs."
Juvia stood. She realized that she was still soaked through, and shivering. Eileen shamelessly went through Juvia's suitcase and held out a sky blue dress with a sinking neckline. It was too nice for the Thorn and Thistle.
"I insist," Eileen said when she saw Juvia hesitate. "Trust me. Not too much now. But enough to know I'll never fool around with this."
Juvia took the dress. Her whole body shook. Scared, she realized, though she couldn't say why.
Eileen patted her cheek with warm fingers. "Good girl. Go enjoy yourself while you can. Try to forget about Gray Fullbuster. The only thing at the end of his road is a broken heart."
Didn't she know it? Juvia stripped and donned the dress.
Loke didn't bother knocking. The door was open, anyway. Inside, Gray's room was a mess of belongings. Socks and pants and sweaters, T-shirts and the occasional beer bottle thrown around like a whirlwind had come through. That whirlwind was an angry Gray Fullbuster. Amongst all the chaos, he found the devil slayer sitting on the bed, his hands laced through his hair.
"Hey."
Gray sucked in a deep breath and lifted his gaze. He didn't look particularly surprised to see Loke. Nor did he look happy. "Hey."
Loke came the rest of the way in, stepping over a bra he was sure didn't belong to Gray. "Juvia know her shit's all over the ground?"
Gray groaned and flopped back on the bed. The mattress's springs squealed. "I'm sure she doesn't really care."
"So I'll take that to mean that you don't know she's at the Thorn and Thistle with some chick?"
Gray was still for a moment, then propped himself up on his elbow. "She is?"
"Yeah."
"Thought she would have left town already."
"On what train, eh?" Loke asked. "None's running this late."
Of course.
"She knows about you and Lucy?"
"Nope. She just packed up her shit and left me here for no reason," Gray snapped.
"You're an idiot," Loke told him. "Get up and go across the road and tell her that."
"She doesn't want to see me."
"Yeah," Loke agreed. "Probably not after all this crap, but I think if you just tell her you're sorry and explain what happened—"
"Lay off." The room got colder, Gray's magic doing what it wanted. Even from where he stood, Loke could see the black mark stretching over the devil slayer's body. He felt a twang of uncertainty, but refused to give that emotion any foothold. It was Gray, after all. He was always in control. Even when shit was going south.
"At least go make sure she's okay. Magnolia's a weird place right now, and I didn't recognize the girl she was with."
"The Thistle's a busy place," Gray said, though he was already sitting up. "Not likely anyone's going to attack her there."
Loke read through his words: he was looking for assurance. "Probably not, but come on. We'll just check on her."
Gray stood and shoved his feet into his boots.
Every step toward the Thorn and Thistle brought Gray unease. The headache that had been lingering for days returned, stronger than ever. It pulsed behind his eyes, making it difficult to concentrate. The rain hammered into him, slicking his hair to his forehead. It only took seconds to reach the bar, but the storm made quick work of he and Loke. Every scrap of clothing was drenched.
Gray couldn't get inside fast enough, though once he was there, he wished he wasn't. It was too loud. Too crowded. His stomach churned harder than before. He thought at first it was the smell of alcohol, then he decided that it was his migraine having its way with him, making him nauseas. Then why is your arm burning? And it was, his skin was crawling like it had those very first months he'd worn his father's mark. It felt brand-new again, like he had no idea what to do with it or how to control it. Breathe. And look. Juvia was in here somewhere. Focus.
He had no trouble picking her out in the crowd, he never did. First he felt relief—she was alright, seemingly—then he felt a weighted ball settle in his stomach. She looked up from the guards' table as if she felt his eyes on her, and met his gaze. A myriad of emotions flitted over her face. Hope, anger, self-righteousness as she realized what it looked like. What it was.
Riley Ackles shoved by Gray, two beers in hand, and sat next to Juvia, closer than what was necessary. Juvia took one, though she hardly ever drank, and tipped it into her mouth. She finally looked away from Gray, turning her attention to the guard. Gray dug his nails into his palm. It didn't stave off the way the bar throbbed around him, or the way his eyes pulsed with every beat of his heart, but the pain brought him some outlet.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and managed to get himself turned around. The exit never looked further away, or more blocked. A woman stood before the tall doors, her coral hair gleaming by the dull light. Gray made himself walk, shoving by her when she didn't immediately rush out of his way. The headache spiked. His nausea hit a peak. Fuck. Loke was talking at his back, keeping pace with him. He couldn't hear what the spirit said.
Someone grabbed his arm before he could experience the freedom of the outside world. His skin set to crawling. Turning, he faced the woman that had blocked his way.
Her mouth curled into a smile. "You dropped this." She held out his wallet.
Gray didn't grab it. Couldn't. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire. His stomach made it known in no uncertain terms that it was protesting. Bile rushed up his throat. The sickness was combatted by the very real need to be violent as his magic tried to wrestle from his grasp to steal the woman's life. Woman, or demon? He didn't know. She looked like a human, but…
Confused and out of sorts, he wrenched from her grasp and spilled into the soaking night. He just barely made it to the side of the building before he emptied his guts on the cracked cobblestone.
"Fuck. What the hell?" came Loke's voice.
Gray retched again.
"Were you drinking or something? Or do you have a flu? What's going on?"
Not only could he not answer, Gray didn't know. His whole arm was burning cold; his head was cracking in two. He threw up until he dry-heaved, but didn't stop until the pressure in his head eased. He hunched there for several long minutes, gasping in breath after breath, soaked through by the rain, exhausted, before he gathered the strength to wipe his mouth on his sleeve. Standing was another issue entirely. Getting vertical invited his vision to double, then triple. He stumbled.
Loke took pity and threw Gray's arm over his shoulder. "Come on. I got your wallet off that chick. It doesn't look like she robbed you or anything." Not that he thought Gray cared much at the moment.
Gray stumbled after him, dazed. The pain in his father's mark settled down, but it was there, and the faint panging rage that always accompanied its awakening. It was hungry and fighting for control.
"Where is she?"
"Juvia? Inside still—"
"No. The chick with the pink hair."
"Gone," Loke replied. "She left after I took your wallet."
"I—I gotta find her."
Loke shook his head. "The only thing you have to do is get inside and brush your teeth." He started leading Gray away.
"No. She—I think she's a demon, Loke." He tried to struggle out of his friend's grasp. Loke tightened his hold.
"She looked like a regular girl to me. Chill out. You're all fucked up." Loke lengthened his steps, hurrying to Briar's Lock. The devil slayer was too out of it to put up much of a fight.
"I can't wait anymore," Lucy said behind a huge yawn. "I'm exhausted."
"I don't think they're coming back anyway," Happy said.
Natsu had to agree, on both fronts. He too was buckling under exhaustion's pressure.
Lucy stood and grabbed Natsu's T-shirt off the small dresser. Taking it to the washroom, she changed and washed her face. When she came out again, there was no conversation as she went directly to the bed and crawled between the sheets. Happy didn't even make a joke from his place on the loveseat, though whether that was because he was out of funnies or because Natsu told him to be quiet, Lucy had no idea.
The dragon slayer deposited the garbage from their takeout into the steel bin by the kitchenette, then came to the bed, clicking off lights as he went. Outside, the storm had started to die back, but in the distance, lightning darted across the sky, another storm chasing its tail. Lucy moved over so her back was against the wall, making room. Natsu clicked off the last of the lights, throwing them into darkness, then stripped down to his shorts. Lightning's pale light illuminated the room, silhouetting his body. He dropped to the mattress. Lucy adjusted so she was sort of beneath his weight. It was familiar and comforting and pulse-quickening. His lips found hers in a chaste kiss.
"G'night."
"Night," Happy added.
"Night," Lucy echoed.
She thought Natsu, with a full belly, would immediately drift off to sleep. He had a talent for such things, but his fingers drifted over her body instead, starting at her wrist and easing up to her elbow, her shoulder, and her neck, lingering where he hadn't dared before, feeling the swollen skin Lance's Henbridge's hands left behind. He scooted down and kissed the sensitive skin as silently as he could manage.
Lucy closed her eyes, aware of Happy just meters away, but also enjoying Natsu's touch. His tongue was hot on her skin. He kissed her throat again, then readjusted so his lips were against her temple. She relaxed some. For a second. Just in time, really, for him to start running his fingers over her body again. She trapped her lip between her teeth and let it happen, holding her breath as he eased from her throat down the centerline of her body, between her breasts. At her bellybutton she waited in anticipation, unsure if she was going to grab his hand and bring it to her hip, trapping him there in an effort to encourage him to stop, or if she'd just let him continue.
She needn't worry. Natsu found her hip on his own, squishing her closer to his body. She felt how excited he was through the thin fabric of her makeshift nightgown. There was a groan on her tongue. She withheld it but let him know she was unsatisfied by squeezing his bicep tight. Natsu's breath against her temple came out in a short, hot puff, burdened with his own frustrations. He kissed her again, using tongue and teeth this time, thinking that would make him feel better.
It didn't really. He came away and made his muscles relax, fighting for composure; striving for sleep.
He didn't have to try all that hard, though, dreams were pulling him under yet again.
Soundly sleeping didn't even begin to describe Cheria's state. In her bed, swaddled in a thick wool blanket while the air conditioning was cranked on high, she slept deeply, dreaming of the most peculiar bear-pig that enjoyed bubble gum ice cream.
A sharp crash and a fluent cuss brought her out of her dream in a hurry. Sitting up in bed, hair everywhere, she blinked and blinked, trying to adjust to this new state of being. Moonlight petered through her window, setting a small square aglow. In that cubic space, a pair of boots rested. Sort of. For an instant, before the person stumbled out of the light and back into the darkness.
It wasn't fear that took Cheria, but excitement. "Wendy?" She was the only one she could think that would dare climb through her window—and so clumsily, too.
"Heh. Didn't think you'd ever be accused of being a chick. A little girl at that."
"Fuck off, Erik," snapped a man whose voice was choked with pain and impatience. It was familiar. It didn't matter if Cheria recognized them or not, though. She sucked in a deep breath—maybe for a roar, maybe for a scream, she hadn't decided yet—when a cold hand clamped over her mouth.
"Listen," said a woman in a no-nonsense tone. "We don't have time for silly games. Jellal is hurt and Wendy is dying."
"And Richard is dead," added a new voice, this one young and feminine.
Cheria felt all of the fight leave her system, like a balloon that had been popped. The hand went away and her bedside lamp clicked on, revealing her visitors. Crime Sorciere. Lamia Scale—Ooba in particular—was not going to be happy that a group of rag-tag delinquents had broken into her guild. That was all secondary, though.
"Wendy's dying?"
It was Jellal that replied. "She was attacked late last night while she and Erza were on their way to Magnolia. Her state is critical." He was terribly pale. He winced with every breath he took, yet he put on a good face, even if he was weaving like a drunken man. Merdy covertly inched to his side and propped him up when he was on the verge of going down.
"Is this a joke?"
"Please, Cheria," Jellal said. "She needs your help. I promised Erza I wouldn't let her die."
Die. No more Wendy Marvel. No more wondering if she liked the kiss or not, because she wouldn't be around to say either way. Cheria pushed back her blankets, deciding that there was no time to be shy. Not that she had much to be shy about. Since she knew Wendy wasn't in the area, she stopped wearing her nicer pajamas to bed. Crime Sorciere was graced with her double-rainbow kitten hood one-piece in all of its ripped up and faded glory.
"Why do you sleep in a wool blanket in a flannel onesie with the air conditioner cranked when its like, a hundred degrees out?" Sorano asked.
"Why do you do your makeup like your entertaining whoever is paying?" Cheria sniped back, in no mood to be harassed.
Erik doubled over laughing, the sound too loud. "That was a fucking good one, kid. Ah. She's got you there, Sorano." Sorano passed him off a rude gesture. Erik barred his teeth at her. "Keep thinking dirty at me. I like it."
Merdy ignored them. "Will you help or not? Jellal needs to be healed so we can move quickly."
Cheria was already calling her magic. All it took was a touch. Jellal's face cleared of the pain, his arm, which had been sluggishly bleeding him dry, plugged up, then began to heal, all of the ligaments and muscles going back to the place they were supposed to be. It took a lot of energy. Cheria did it slowly, wanting to be at her best when she got to Wendy.
Instead of the quiet Cheria was used to when she was working—people just got silent, afraid to disturb her; it wasn't like healing was difficult or anything, like, come on, right?—she was privy to a constant stream of jibes and curses and low laughter. Mostly it was Erik ribbing… well, everyone.
"Shut the hell up," Jellal said finally. He didn't raise his voice, but everyone fell mute.
Cheria finished up quickly after that. "What happened to her?" She didn't want to know, and yet she needed to.
Jellal rolled his shoulder back, testing its limitations. Cheria knew there would be no pain. She waited for the surprised look Jellal would give her and wasn't disappointed. Jellal stood straighter, looking like a new man. Now if only his cloak wasn't eviscerated and his hair wasn't caked with blood.
"I'll explain on the way."
Cheria didn't think twice about leaving her guild. She grabbed some clothes, a few hair ribbons, a pair of boots, her wallet and her wool blanket, stuffing it all into a too-small pack. She was ready in record time. She approached the window. "Start talking."
