Sometime between the shower and the balcony, Lucy had swiped cherry lip balm across her mouth. It was all Natsu could taste; it was all he wanted to taste. Cold iron dug into his palms as he gripped the railing at the girl's back, pinning her between it and his body; the motion hurt his hand. He used the pain as an excuse to take her by the hips instead. She was much softer and warmer. Her arms went around his neck and he went up inside her overlarge sweater, feeling her smooth skin.

Shouts from Magnolia's streets drifted up to the balcony. The Thorn and Thistle was rioting again, on the verge of another bar fight, or just rowdy. People laughed, people screamed, people cried. Magnolia isn't so dead. It just needed the nighttime to feel alive.

Lucy's teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, sending a thrill from his head to his toes. Natsu was surprised at the rumble that came from his chest, and the fierceness he felt. Nervousness was left behind as he allowed his fingers to travel north up Lucy's rib line. She didn't stop him, not until he got to the underwire of her bra and tried to get beneath that, too.

Her mouth came away. "Wait."

Natsu stopped his travel and searched her eyes. Wide as pits and as black as them too, like the girls torn apart and left behind. The connection made, it was easy to next reimagine Lucy standing on the precipice of a very long drop. Or laying splayed on the ground while a creature did things to her that would haunt his subconscious forever. His erection started to wither. He wanted to go back to kissing her so he didn't have to entertain any delusions, but she seemed uncomfortable. He had to swallow to make his throat work. "What is it?"

Lucy looked over her shoulder to the bar down below. The door opened and closed with frequency, allowing a loud band to seep into the night. She thought she caught sight of a familiar figure making his way inside the place, shirt undone. She looked away. "Let's go inside so we don't have to worry about anyone seeing us."

And just like that, Natsu's erection was back. Through their bodies, he felt Lucy's heart speed. Even if they weren't so close, he would have heard it drum, drum, drumming. Maybe he should have, but he didn't ask if she was sure, not knowing what he'd do if she said no.

She took his hand and led him back in through the balcony door and down the smoke-choked hallway. The smell was pungent and made Natsu's head a little woozy. He breathed shallowly, his senses far too sensitive, and walked faster. Their room offered air that smelled only like mildew and shampoo and not drugs. He closed the door. Lucy locked it.

Like she was someone else, someone braver, someone more shameless, someone experienced, she walked to the bed, shucking off her sweater as she went. It found home on the floor. Her hands played at the waist of her tights. Natsu's ears roared. He waited for her to take those off, too, unsure if he'd turn away or stare as they came down her body. She didn't, though, only pulled them higher, adjusting them on her hips. The relief he felt was palpable. As was the frustration. Like a hawk, he watched her sink to the mattress, blonde tresses glittering in the moonlight. Silhouetted, he couldn't see her face, but he knew every slope of her nose, her mouth, and was able to perfectly envision the way she fluttered her lashes when she was nervous.

"Come here, Natsu."

Natsu realized he was still sedentary, frozen in place, heart pulsating, cock throbbing, lungs convulsing, waiting for the breath he hadn't taken. He breathed in and came unglued, crossing the room to her side. And then he just stood there, like he had no idea what to do.

"Off." Lucy tugged at the hem of his sweater. Natsu couldn't obey fast enough. The neck hole got caught on his chin. He nearly tore it in his haste. By some grace, he managed to get it off without anything hazardous happening. His cheeks were burning by the end of it, though.

Lucy didn't seem to notice or she didn't care. She took his hand in hers, thumb playing over his cracked and knobby knuckles, feeling the scars, the old and new alike. She kissed the tips of his fingers, starting on the middle and working her way to his thumb. Next, she turned his hand over and kissed the black spot, more incautious of it than Natsu was—he kept wondering what it meant, why the skin was changing, and what would happen when it stopped.

The area got hot; almost too hot to bear. Then she was moving again and the heat fizzled. Her lips landed on his wrist. She stopped there, breath panting.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." She looked at him through a fringe of hair. "Are you scared?" Her voice was also uneven.

Scared? He thought to lie; the truth came out. "I don't know. Maybe."

She relaxed, smiling just a little. Movements sure and practiced, she reached behind herself and unclipped her bra. Natsu's ears roared more. Maybe his admission made her feel better, but it didn't do anything for him. The material came over Lucy's shoulders, sliding from her skin, and dropping to the floor along with her shirt, and Natsu's eyes got stuck to her body.

Her breasts were as full as he remembered, creamy roses at the tips. He forgot to breathe again, remembering only when she lay back against the bed and tugged him down with her. It was awkward getting between her legs, the bed buckling and squealing noisily, Lucy's knee digging into his ribs before she moved her leg, her hair getting caught beneath her body until she lifted it up and lay it over her shoulder. It was pure gold kissing her skin. Her arms came back around his neck again, guiding him in to her once more when he forgot what to do, though it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

Her mouth felt hotter, her skin, too, smooth and soft. Natsu felt every bit of bare flesh that touched his body and got harder. His breath hiccupped along, the kiss turning sloppy with the blind need that overcame him.

Lucy's leg was looped over his arm before he realized that he'd done it, spreading her wider. There was still so much material between them. He thought of removing it, but he wanted to touch her now. Using her thigh as a roadway, he eased down, fingers searching for the place between her legs. With every inch gained, her kiss faltered, her focus snagging solely on sensation. She was warm and wet, felt even through the material. On contact, Lucy's eyes fluttered closed and her mouth cracked open, letting out a low moan. Natsu crushed their mouths together, driven on by an urge to taste it. The noise vibrated his tongue and traveled throughout his entire body. It was hard to remain thoughtful and in control, especially when all he wanted to do was lose himself in this, forget so much. For long seconds he did nothing, trying to organize all of his motions in a linear fashion so he could think about what to do next.

Lucy's voice reached his ears, her words mumbled against his mouth, telling him what to do. "Keep going,"

A thrill moved through him. As calmly as possible, he swirled his thumb over her body, closing his eyes and letting touch and Lucy's reactions guide his ministrations. She bowed into him and turned her head so she could moan. Natsu kissed her neck, wanting to have some part of her under his lips always. He was gentle, aware of the still swollen hand-shaped bruise. Her breath hitched. He pressed into her harder, trying to duplicate the sound. It came again. Her fingers tightened in his hair, words came from her mouth, nonsense praises that started with "Yes," and "More," ended in a huge gasping breath and several cusses he didn't even know that she knew. He grabbed her breast clumsily, lifting himself up just enough that he could squeeze. Her breath hitched again. He found the tip and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, pulling lightly when she crooned in a way he'd never heard before. Her body got as tight as a bow, then went totally limp, an orgasm moving through her.

Natsu moved his thumb in another light circle, earning him a catch of breath. He let his eyes come open. Lucy's were still closed. Her cheeks were red and her lips were swollen from use. He kissed her again and got hardly any response. Forcing patience, he waited for her to open her eyes, to say something.

When her eyelids finally did flutter, she stared past him at the ceiling, panting. He kissed her throat this time. Her skin shivered beneath his mouth, but she didn't respond.

He rolled off her, taking to laying at her side to let her make the next move. His body was pulsing. Long seconds whittled past in where he waited and waited for Lucy to reach over and touch him. But she didn't. He imagined what she was thinking. The longer the lack of contact went on for, the more insecure his thoughts became. It was a state he was unused to. He almost turned to her and asked if it was (not as good as Gray) okay. He almost demanded to know what she was thinking.

He wasn't brave enough.

Bedsprings squealed beneath his weight. Despite his uncertainty, his erection strained against his pants and likely would until he took care of it. Head spinning, heart aching, he moved toward the washroom to do just that. And then afterward? He had no idea.

"Natsu," Lucy called him back. He dared to look over his shoulder. Her hair was silver in the moonlight, paler than it had ever been before. It framed her face and her full breasts. She was plump in all of the right places, soft. She'd be giving if he could just...

"Come here." She held out her hand.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat, very, very aware of his body, of hers. His feet took him when his head hesitated, depositing him at the edge of the narrow bed. Lucy sat up and laid her cool hands against his bare stomach. He jumped, he couldn't help it, sensitive to touch and to the cold. She looked up and met his eyes. He used the opportunity to search for her motives. All he could see was exactly what he wanted to.

"Lucy..." She kissed the skin above his belt. Her tongue came out next, sliding over the sensitive area, thoroughly silencing him; not that he had any idea of what he was going to say.

She kissed him again, mouth wet, lips soft, breath hot breaking over his abdomen, and started on his belt. Natsu didn't think it was possible to get harder, but he did. So much so that it hurt. The pants came undone and slid down his hips.

Free, his own breath matched Lucy's, uneven. He swallowed again and leaned back just a little so he could see her more clearly, to make sure that this was actually happening. That he wasn't imagining it. That he wasn't (cut the thread) dreaming. That she was about to enjoy it as much as he was.

She licked her lips, then kissed the upper most part of his hip, and lower, mouth drawing a trail to the only place he could seem to think about. His throat was dry, dry, dry. She kissed his base with just her lips, and then her tongue, and Natsu forgot to be apprehensive or nervous. He allowed himself to lace his fingers through her hair, holding her loosely. Her eyes came up to meet his again, then she opened her mouth and took him inside.

Colour exploded behind his eyes, his whole body tingled. The aching he'd felt eased as the blonde fell into a slow rhythm, movements methodical and purposeful; everything she did was designed to make his knees weak, and it was working. Natsu held her tighter and focused on the sensation, on her hands digging into his thighs, and Lucy's slipping reserve. Her movements got faster, Natsu got louder, surprised himself by the noises he made. Encouraged, Lucy took him deeper and did something with her tongue that Natsu couldn't place, but also couldn't forget.

She worked him tirelessly for only moments, so she was just as surprised as Natsu was when an orgasm hit, unexpected and hard. Paralyzed, he clenched his fingers in her hair and held her tight to his body, riding out the sensation. The suddenness of it left him feeling especially weak-kneed. Locking his legs and staying perfectly still kept him safe from gravity.

Eventually, he convinced himself to loosen his hold on Lucy's hair and let her lean back to breathe. She wiped her mouth with unsteady hands, then fixed her hair. Natsu gathered some dexterity and tucked himself into his pants again. Afterward, zipper done up, he just looked at her awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. Sorry it wasn't longer? Terrible. Thanks? Was that an appropriate response when your best friend decided that they wanted to be a little something more? The girl looked pleased enough all on her own without awkward conversation, so Natsu let the words fade.

Lucy shuffled over and patted the bed beside her, inviting him down. "Lay with me."

He didn't need to be told twice, wanting to be close to her, even if there was an unsettled feeling in his chest. What's wrong? The answer felt just outside of his grasp. Maybe it's Zeref's memories. Maybe. He didn't think so, though.

Lucy curled into his side, tucking her face into his shoulder while he wrapped his arm around her body and pulled her in tight. She smelled good. Her fingers swirled over his chest, finding a light trail of hair to follow all the way down to the waistband of his pants. His body stirred again, tickled as much as teased.

"What are you thinking?"

Natsu was about to say 'Nothing' but that was a lie. He finally pinpointed the source of his disquiet. Maybe it was a bit too late after that, but he asked anyway. "Why Gray?"

Lucy went so still, she hardly breathed. The quiet went on for so long, Natsu thought she wouldn't answer. Then she started talking and his focus narrowed.

"I thought about that a lot. At first... I told myself it was because I was drunk. Loke told me that was an excuse, not a reason." She found the leather ridge of his belt and started plucking at it for something to do while she waited for Natsu to prod her into speaking again. He mostly wanted her to stop so he didn't say a word. Lucy found the will to continue all on her own. "So then I had to look at other things. I guess… I always sort of liked Gray. Not like I was in love with him. Not like that. He was a really good friend. We saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things. He was always there when I needed him to be. And… he was there when you weren't." Her fingers plucked more forcefully, like that could diffuse the punch of her words. Not fucking likely. Despite his tense muscles, Lucy continued as unashamedly as she could. Cushioning the truth didn't make it any less true after all. "I don't know what I was thinking. I—the guild was gone, but not only that, everyone was leaving Magnolia. No one asked me to go with them, or even seemed to care what I was doing. They were so busy trying to put themselves back in order. I just felt… like I was washed out with the tide, you know, forgotten. The one person I thought would always keep me afloat just left. And what was I given? A vague fucking note." She tightened her hand into a fist, still angry even after all this time. "It wasn't fair. I thought we meant more to each other than that. I thought—I don't know what I thought."

She paused for a while. Natsu thought (hoped) that was the end of it, but she regrouped her thoughts and started again. "And then Gray came along, and he seemed to need someone as much as I did after Silver—well, you know."

"He had Juvia," Natsu managed to say, though he told himself to be quiet. There was a quiet rage in his heart that wouldn't be completely satiated.

Lucy pushed her hair back from her forehead. "He was hurt. I guess ultimately, it was Juvia's actions that ended Silver's life and he hadn't figured out how he felt about that yet."

Could what Silver had really be called 'life?' "His father was practically a puppet," Natsu said. "Gray should have been thanking her."

Lucy met his eyes. Hers were glossy in the nighttime, wet with tears. "It was his father, Natsu. Mercy aside, he was hurt. You're one of the most compassionate people I've ever met; I know you can sympathize."

"He—" What? Stole a girl you hadn't paid much attention to, too consumed with everything else? His fingers pricked with unrealized fire. He kept the magic tamped down with a great deal of effort; it felt wild, not quite his own. Brother. Demon. END. His hand was icy. Fingering the scales was inevitable, as was the realization that they'd spread. He breathed on a one-two count.

Lucy saved him from the very edge of panic, pulling him back just a few inches with her voice and the very human problem at hand. "He was confused. We all were."

Natsu's contempt only grew, but he found it within himself to shut his mouth and let her keep talking.

"Anyway, He told me he was going to tell Juvia that whatever they had was through. And…" This part was hard to say. The shame was potent. She made the words come as factually as she could manage, figuring it was something that was best delivered in a cool, matter-of-fact way. "He told me he was going to stay with me, Natsu. I didn't want to be alone. It was wrong, I know, but I wanted… something, and there Gray was, willing to offer it. Or so I thought."

A burning throat didn't stop the dragon slayer from asking, "What do you mean?"

She found a wall to look at instead of Natsu's intense gaze. "Gray left that night without saying a word. It was Cana that told me the next day that he'd gone with Juvia. I guess he decided that he forgave her after all." And the guilt was all the more intense. That night, Lucy had been able to smother it with copious amounts of alcohol and the justification that it was through for Juvia and Gray. Afterward, though, there had been nowhere to hide. "I feel so... I don't know. I didn't like the Lucy that existed that night." She knew she had no business saying it, but Lucy found her mouth moving around the words. "I wish you didn't leave." Like this was somehow his fault.

Natsu didn't respond. Nor did he move. Not to bring her closer. Not to push her away. He only breathed, absorbing her words and her blame, turning them around in his head while he decided what to say to that unfair accusation. Whether she said in so many words or not, she blamed him for her lapse in judgement.

Eventually, he said, "Fairy Tail was the only thing I knew."

Lucy lifted her head and found Natsu in the darkness. "What?"

"When Igneel died."

"I'm not following."

Natsu couldn't bring himself to look at her for a myriad of reasons, sort of ashamed, sort of angry. "The reason I left. I said it was for training, and it was. I realized I'd never be able to defeat Zeref as I was. I couldn't protect the people I loved. I thought about coming back for you. Happy suggested it every day for the first month. But when I got out there... I realized that I wanted to be alone, Lucy. I wanted to be away from everything I've known. So I knew who I was without Fairy Tail. Without looking for Igneel. Both have dictated every decision I've made since I was old enough to make them. I wanted to see if I could be a person without them. Without everyone else to think about." It was the most selfish he'd ever been. And he wasn't proud of it. But the truth had a way of making itself known, he'd learned. Best to do it on his own grounds.

Lucy made her breath come evenly even though her lungs tried to spasm and her eyes were wet with tears. "You wanted to get away from us." Why not Happy, she thought but didn't add. This was hard enough.

Natsu found the light fixture on the ceiling; it was covered in cobwebs. "Maybe a little, yeah. I always thought I'd come back, though, and I thought you'd be there waiting for me."

Lucy started to cry for real. "You just expected—"

He finally pulled her closer, muffling not only her words against his shoulder but the unfamiliar presence in his body, the one that felt a little irrational and a lot like a monster. "We both fucked up. The question is, can we forgive each other?"

Lucy sniffled. Faintly, she could smell the soap and shampoo he'd used, something full of lemon. His bare skin pressed against hers and she knew she was faltering, the last of her bitterness was slowly being burned away. "Can you tell me in person the next time you need a self-discovery journey?"

Lucy's hair was between his fingers, soft as satin. He tugged through it, getting caught on the tangles. She didn't flinch. He didn't apologize. "Can you tell me for sure you and Gray were just a one-time thing?" He couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering.

"Yes."

He turned into her, wrapped his free arm around her body, crushing her to the bed beneath his weight. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, cheek resting against hers. "If I need to go… we'll talk next time, Lucy."

She wished instead he'd say he'd never do it again, but Natsu never wanted to be a liar. She appreciated it, even if it made her sad.

Eventually, Lucy's breath evened out. It wasn't long after Natsu was taken into dream by a familiar force, though he thought he was through with everything Zeref wanted to show him.


If left to her own devices, Erza could have paced a hole through the carpet of their dingy motel room. She barely noticed the restless movement, looking out at the dark sky and the spotty streetlights so far down below. It had been hours since Gajeel and Levy left. It didn't take that long to travel to Porlyusica's. The woman was barely outside of town.

"Do you think the clerk can be trusted to relayed our location?"

Carla looked up from Wendy's pale body. "Yes."

"Then why haven't they shown up?"

"I don't know."

Lily looked up from where he sharpened his sword. "I'm getting worried, too."

"I should search for them." Erza glanced at Carla as she spoke, feeling guilty. The cat was exhausted, so much so that her humanoid form had dwindled away; just in time, too, Happy was looking a little down on himself with Carla and Lily side-by-side.

"I can go look," Happy suggested.

"It should be me," Erza said. Not that she didn't trust him. But she didn't trust him.

"You haven't slept for days," Carla said. "It should be Happy."

Erza paced faster. "I'm the best warrior we have. If there's trouble, I could diffuse it."

"You mean you could beat them into submission," Happy said, cheeks touched with a glow of his old mirth.

The joke was lost on Erza. "Exactly."

Lily's lip pouted out in displeasure. "I've been known to get out of a scuffle or two myself. The obvious choice is me."

Erza shot him a furtive look. It made sense, of course it did, but she was feeling trapped. She wanted to get out. She wanted to stay. She didn't know what she wanted, really.

Carla lifted her paws and scrubbed her face. "Please stop pacing. You're making me anxious, Erza."

"You were anxious before I started," Erza sniped.

"Yes, and you're making it worse."

"Everyone just calm down," Lily said. "Erza, sit. Carla… rest. I'll watch Wendy for an hour. If Gajeel hasn't shown up by then, I'll go look for him."

Carla's immediate response was a denial; she didn't get to voice it. A rattling tap on the door made them all jump. Erza turned, a sword in her hand in the same breath, and crossed the room. Happy beat her to the door, flying up and opening it to a familiar figure, narrow through the shoulders and hips, pink hair dirtier than Erza had ever seen it before.

Cheria was in the most ludicrous onesie, kittens smiling from every inch, perched on rainbows. It would have been cute, if it wasn't so torn and caked with filth. An overwhelming feeling filled Erza's chest, too complicated to name. Grabbing Cheria roughly, she tugged the girl in for a bone-crushing hug, then pushed her toward the cot Wendy lay upon without so much as a word of hello.

"Cheria." Carla sat up straight, life coming back into her eyes. "What—"

Erza spoke over the cat, directing her words solely to Cheria. "Wendy fell from a cliff—"

"Yes," Cheria said. "I know."

"I think she's in a coma. She hasn't woken since the fall. There's bruising, too, around her temple. It keeps spreading. I think there's a hemorrhage or something under—"

"Erza," Cheria said sharply. "Let me do what I do best." Erza quieted on principle. No one ever spoke to her in such a way. Satisfied, Cheria went to Wendy's bed and fell to her knees. The god slayer's magic was already thick in the air, plucking away at the worst of Wendy's injuries. Happy took up Carla's paw and waited more patiently than the rest of them. Lily opted for the less intrusive polishing of his sword, the rag significantly quieter than his whetstone. Erza changed her pacing to hovering.

It went on for moments until Cheria got exasperated. "Erza, please, I will work better if you're not hanging over my shoulder. Go for a walk or something."

Erza thrust her fingers through her hair, frustrated beyond belief. She wanted to do something. There was validity in Cheria's words, though. "I won't be far if you need anything."

"I know," Cheria agreed.

Erza looked over her shoulder several times before she could bare to put the door between she and Wendy. She barely had time to look up from the door handle when hands grabbed her arms and pulled her in. Erza suppressed both a scream and a violent outburst, understanding at the last second what was happening. Jellal's oversized hood cast his face into such deep shadow that she couldn't see him to confirm that it was in fact his mouth against hers, but his taste was the same, and the feel of his calloused hands. The kiss ended as soon as it started and he was on the move, trekking down the hallway with purpose.

Erza didn't know if he was trying to slip away before he was caught or if he wanted her to follow, but she knew which one she wanted. Long steps didn't help her catch up, but at least she was only a few paces behind when he took the stairs to the uppermost floor that existed solely for roof access. The door opened, letting in the night.

Next door, the Thorn and Thistle was rowdier than usual. Erza could barely focus on it, too strung out thinking about other things. Like the man before her slipping over the small portion of the roof that was flat and covered in gravel. An air conditioning fan sat in the center of the compact space, a perfect stool. She watched Jellal glance at it, then choose the tall brick chimney that abutted the second peaked roof instead. He was always more comfortable in the shadows. Looking for a corner swathed in impenetrable black was a habit she'd picked up from him as well.

Easing into him was comforting; it even worked to quiet her raging thoughts. She locked her arms around his neck and he responded by linking his around her waist. "Thank you for finding Cheria."

Without a responding word, he tugged down his cowl and kissed her in that way he had. The way that made her head spin and her skin burn and her fingers tingle. In the way that made her responsibilities fall to the wayside. She fought against the urge tonight, though.

"Wendy—"

"Cheria's taking care of her," Jellal mumbled against her mouth.

"But no one's watching for attacks. What if—"

"Pantherlily is inside with them, and Crime Sorciere has the building surrounded. No one gets in and no one gets out without their knowledge. Wendy is safe." He kissed her again.

"I should be there with her."

"You've been with her for days," Jellal said. "You need time to rest." He lifted her hand and kissed her wrist.

A bit of fight went out of the redhead. "Resting generally means sleeping."

"Generally, but not always. There are other ways to renew yourself." His lips met hers again. "More enjoyable ways."

Erza closed her eyes, torn. Be selfish or responsible? Cheria doesn't want you inside anyway… "It's really safe?"

"Yes."

Before he was finished speaking, she was trading armour for a soft pink dress. Through the fabric, she felt how warm Jellal's hands were. It had only been days since they'd last been together, but it felt like weeks. "I missed you." Part of her wished she didn't. That way she wouldn't worry every other day if he'd been arrested by the Magic Council. She wouldn't always wonder where he was. If he was safe. If he was looking up at the same stars she was, wondering the same things. Love was complicated and consuming, even when she knew she had other more important responsibilities to occupy her time. There was always a place for Jellal in her head and in her heart.

"I missed you, too." He kissed her until her lips were numb, then adjusted their positions so she was the one against the chimney, front flat to the bricks. He came in behind her, pressing into her body, unintentionally keeping her warm. His mouth moved over her jaw to her shoulder while his hands worked low, grasping her breasts and down between her legs. Erza couldn't contain her smile the moment Jellal realized she wore nothing beneath her dress, his grunt of excited approval travelling through her like lightning. He moved quickly after that, lifting her dress and groping her behind, then forcing her legs wider. Erza gave him what he wanted, spreading enough that he could reach between to her center. His hands were cold, his touch startling, but not in a bad way.

Skillful fingers alternating between rough and gentle strokes had defined this part of their relationship. It hadn't taken Jellal long to discover what Erza liked, however every opportunity he had he was experimenting with new tactics to make her shake and sob. Tonight he marked her neck with a bruise delivered with his mouth, the proof of their union all the more scandalous because Erza knew it was dangerous and damaging if anyone knew of their relationship.

It was exciting, the real and imaginary chains they wore. She closed her eyes and focused on that, relying upon it to help build the sensation low in her belly. It never took her long to orgasm when it was Jellal doing the ministrations. As always, it took her by force and left her a wet, stammering mess. her own voice drowning out those drifting from the Thorn and Thistle just steps away. By the time she was through, Jellal had his pants down, a condom on and was lifting both her dress and one of her legs. He slipped inside without trouble.

Erza didn't try to mask her moans, taking more and more enjoyment out of the blatant risk as the minutes ticked by and her cries got louder. The hand that wasn't holding her leg tangled in her hair and forced her cheek against the rough brick. Shivers darted beneath her skin. Some people way below laughed; she wondered if it was because they heard them or not. Just on the precipice of another orgasm, this one more powerful than before, Jellal slowed. Erza dug her fingers into the crumbling wall in protest. "Don't stop."

"If I don't slow down, I'm going to come," he hissed harshly.

A thrill moved through Erza, bringing her back to that steep ledge. "Don't stop."

Behind her, Jellal's breath came in a short puff. He tightened his hold on her leg and her hair so hard it hurt and slammed into her, making her scream. When she came so did he. Erza wanted his mouth on hers but had to settle for his less-than-romantic hold. There was no sweet talk or languid kisses. They very rarely got that opportunity.

Jellal came out of her, still mostly hard, and did a sloppy clean-up, dropping the condom to the roof and tucking himself into his pants as it was when he'd rather wash. Not every part of their relationship (hardly any, really) was idealistic in that sense. On the spot impromptu trysts were the best they had. It was more than enough.

Erza fixed her dress and her hair, then wrapped her arms around her body, cold. Jellal stepped back into her, adding body heat and his cloak to keep her protected from the wind. It was silly; they both knew with a thought she could be better dressed; it didn't matter. The closeness was what was important.

Erza reached between them and pushed Jellal's hair back from his forehead. "Will you leave again?"

"In a day or so. I want to meet up with one of our suppliers and get some more rations. I need to fix my cloak as well…" He held up the ruined piece of cloth for her inspection.

Erza felt the crusted blood, dried there for days. "What happened?"

"We were attacked on the way to Cheria. Richard was freed from his sins."

Erza searched his eyes, deciphering his meaning. "He was killed?"

"By a beast." Because nothing less could be so deadly and vicious.

"…I'm sorry, Jellal," she said first.

He tried to be pragmatic. "Death is something that awaits us all."

"But not everyone has to watch people they swore to redeem meet their end by murder."

Jellal looked away. "I would be lying if I said I was unbothered. There wasn't anything I could have done, though. Already if I had been a second slower, we all would have been dead. As it was, I almost lost my arm." He left out almost swaying into the canal to drown (Crime Sorciere would have pulled him from the waters, right? Or not…), figuring that and near-exsanguination were details she didn't need to hear.

Erza searched his eyes. "Was it the same thing that attacked my group?"

"I couldn't say for certain, when I was through, there wasn't much left to look at," Jellal admitted.

Erza pulled him closer again. "I'm glad you're safe." She remembered Lucy's state. "Lucy and Natsu were attacked today as well, by a demon. Lucy killed it."

"More demons?" Jellal asked.

Kyoka crawled into her mind, her touch, the pain, the humiliation. She shuddered involuntarily.

Jellal knew what she was thinking without her saying a word. He crushed their bodies together, like that would ward off the trauma's memory. Her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders, her cheek tucked into the hollow of his throat. He didn't bother telling her he'd protect her from any harm ever again, it was a useless proclamation that she would not appreciate, nor would it be true—he may try, but it seemed they were apart as much now as they were together-and Erza took great pride in fighting her own battles, never wanting to feel weak and helpless again.

"We'll be in the area a few days more. Meet me up here again, Erza, tomorrow, when the sun sets."

"Does this mean you're leaving?"

He kissed her forehead. "We've been out here for longer than you think. Your companions are likely wondering where you are by now."

Erza thought briefly of Gajeel and Levy. Surely they were back now. And aside from them... Wendy might be awake. She didn't like leaving Jellal but for that...

She kissed him thoroughly. "I'll be here at sun set."


Choppy movements roused Levy from a very dark place. Glued shut and heavy, her eyes had a hard time reconciling opening. A familiar voice hooked into them, though, and helped convince her that she should be tugging them high.

"What happened, Gajeel?"

Lisanna?

"Levy and I were on our way to Porlyusica's cottage to get help for Wendy when we came across some broad pulling magic out of the earth."

A new voice spoke up, and there was only one thing it was interested in. "Help for Wendy? What do you mean?"

Mirajane?

"She was attacked like we were," Gajeel responded. His voice rumbled against Levy's side. Her heart beat faster when she realized that he was carrying her. And then it beat faster because a scrap of memory returned to her: standing on top of the library, and then not. Freefalling, with only cracked concrete and rebar to break her fall. Down, down. And a globe of iron as protection. Everything else was hazy.

"You're lucky we saw the building collapse. Who knows how long you guys would have been trapped for if we hadn't?" Mirajane's voice came again.

"Do we know who this chick is?" And that was Bickslow.

"No idea," Gajeel responded. His arms constricted on Levy's body. "But when I find her, I'm not going to waste my breath asking. She's going down."

A voice that could only belong to Laxus asked, "What about the old man?"

"Makarov?" Gajeel clarified. "Haven't heard a thing."

"We'll find him, Laxus." Levy got her eyes open in time to see Mirajane touch Laxus' arm gently, consoling him. He inched out of her grasp, severe face pinching more. He didn't bother responding. Mira looked away from him and found Levy. Her mouth curled into a smile when she saw Levy was awake. "Hey, Levy."

Around her body, Lisanna mimicked her sister's greeting with a wide and infectious grin.

Levy found some saliva to make her tongue work. "Mira…" The takeover mage looked the same as ever, though a year had passed: wide eyes, red mouth good for smiling, and hair so silver it was white. The only thing different was the weight of worry she seemed to carry with her—Levy pinpointed the source to the second generation dragon slayer at her side. Laxus was brooding enough for the lot of them.

"How are you feeling?" Mira asked. "You fell a few storeys."

"…Like I fell a few storeys," Levy said. Her elbow ached and her forehead felt damp and sore when she squished her brows together.

Gajeel was all business. "Get the door."

Levy looked away from the group to survey the grounds. They'd walked through Magnolia's streets back to Briar's Lock. Next door was the Thorn and Thistle, the lights from inside bleeding out onto the litter-filled streets. It was as raucous and filthy as ever in there. Through dingy windows, Levy saw that the wood floors were slick with beer and sometimes worse things.

Freed held the door, ushering them in, and Levy's view was blocked. At the front desk was a plump lady with ruddy cheeks and limp mouse-brown hair. "More Fairy Tail members?" she asked in a nasally voice.

"Yes," Mira said. She looked around, doing a quick count. "We're going to need six rooms."

Levy checked her calculation and saw she was wrong. Gajeel spoke, though, side tracking Levy's correction. "And we need to know which room Erza Scarlet checked into." He shuffled Levy's weight and dug out some cash to pay. The others followed suit.

"Your friend is in thirty-three," the clerk responded as she reached beneath the desk for room keys.

Laxus asked, "What about Makarov Dreyar? You got him staying here, too?"

"Who?" the woman asked.

Laxus' jaw bounced. "The master of Fairy Tail. Old guy. Short. Grey."

"There isn't anyone staying here matching that description. At least, not that I know of." She moved on without remorse. "Room numbers are on the keys. Don't wreck anything, or you'll be paying for it."

"Yeah." Gajeel took a key at random and took off, not waiting for anyone else.

The stairs were only dully illuminated, the pot lights along the walls turned way down for the night, just barely bright enough for Levy to see the stained bare plywood and the peeling paint on the wall. Briar's Lock had only gotten worse over the last year.

With every stair Gajeel took, Levy felt more awkward. "I can probably walk."

"You hurt your leg."

Levy looked down and saw it was gashed open, bleeding but not hurting. She didn't bother correcting him; he looked to be in no mood for arguments.

"Thirty-three?" Mira asked from a few steps behind.

"Yes," Levy replied. The floor evened out, the hallway stretching on either side of the stairs. Up here it smelled pungently of drugs and alcohol and unwashed clothes. Humans. It was gross.

"I'm going to drop our stuff off, then we'll be over," Mira announced before Gajeel could get too far away. To Laxus and his group she asked, "Are you guys coming?"

Laxus wavered then shook his head. "Nah. We'll catch up in the morning."

"Tomorrow I'll help you find Master," Levy heard Mira say quietly. "Just because he isn't here doesn't mean—"

"Goodnight, Mira." Laxus pushed past Gajeel and Levy without hearing the rest of her words, making for a room down the hall. The door opened not without some handle-shaking and swears, stuck. It snapped closed with finality, jarring Gajeel into motion again.

"Well, I'm in," Bickslow said. Evergreen and Freed mimicked his words. Levy smiled into Gajeel's chest. She'd missed Fairy Tail.


The anxiety Erza felt opening the door to her room was distracting. Jellal's kiss was still on her neck, pulsing, her hair was askew she was sure, and Jellal was right, they'd been gone for a long time.

However, the anxiety took a back seat when she heard Gajeel's voice. They'd returned.

All eyes turned to her when she came in. Carla's were drawn right to Erza's neck, focusing on the hickey like it was a beacon. Suddenly, Erza wished she had found a turtleneck, or some makeup because it was still too warm for that kind of garb. The cat opened her mouth to ask a question (what happened?). Erza talked over her. "How is Wendy?"

The small dragon slayer was still on the bed, eyes closed. She had a little more colour now, which was relieving, but she wasn't awake.

"She's stable," Cheria said from her perch next to Levy on the edge of the mattress. "She'll likely sleep more, this kind of thing would be hard on her body, but by tomorrow... hopefully she'll be awake."

Relief hit Erza like a ton of bricks. "Thank you, Cheria." She directed her next question at Gajeel. "Where have you been?"

It was Levy, hands locked in Cheria's, that answered. "We were attacked on our way to see Porlyusica, by a woman with a staff. We were buried beneath some rubble until the Strauss' and the Thunder Legion showed up and dug us out."

Erza finally realized that the two were covered in dust and blood, though it seemed Cheria had tended to most of their injuries. She chewed over that for a moment. "What is going on here?"

"Obviously someone doesn't want us in Magnolia," Gajeel said.

"Obviously," Levy replied dryly.

Cheria released Levy's hands. "You're done."

Levy touched her forehead, fingers sliding through blood to verify that there was no pain. The skin beneath was completely healed. "Thank you. All of us would be in big trouble if you hadn't shown up. How did you know where to find us?"

Erza's heart leapt into her throat as Cheria started to tell her tale—the tale Erza was sure involved Crime Sorciere. Thinking only of keeping Jellal safe, she cut Cheria off. "She and Wendy spend a lot of time together now. Wendy told me you were planning on meeting up, right?"

"...Yeah," Cheria agreed after a brief stunned silence. Her acting was less than passable. Erza couldn't keep the glower off her face.

Levy raised a dark brow, not ignorant to Erza's edginess.

"Well... We're glad to have you around," Lily said. "I'm sure Wendy will be, too, when she wakes."

The door sounded. "That'll be Mira and the others," Levy announced.

Erza seized the distraction, hoping that the added presence would keep Cheria from spilling how she got to Magnolia.


For two days a heavy feeling had been piggybacking on Laxus' shoulders. There was no explanation nor was there any escape from it. He thought sleeping would help. When that escape proved itself to be elusive, he drank until his head was fuzzy, his muscles were loose and he felt slow.

Falling into an uncomfortable bed without someone to warm the other side wasn't exactly ideal—he'd gotten used to the women, the ones that were eager to spend time with Blue Pegasus' newest recruits—but he just didn't have the energy to wander over to the Thistle and pick out the least scuzzy bar rat. And then there was Mira's disapproving frown—that killed his libido faster than he could get it going. He shoved the takeover mage from his mind, knowing that thought path was just going to lead to annoyance.

There was a lot of ceiling staring and thought avoidance. Hours of it. Eventually a restless sleep came to him. Not that it lasted long, interrupted as it was by a light flickering in the distance. It only grew in brightness, to the point where he squinted, the dingy window doing nothing to block out the blaze.

What…?

Fire, he determined. The covers were off his body and he was across the room, standing at the window when his door opened and Bickslow came in, unapologetic for the intrusion.

"Someone's set fire to the old guild hall."

"Someone… what?"

"I was outside for a dart when I heard the guards talking." Bickslow looked uncomfortable.

"Asshole kids?" Laxus determined.

Bickslow's discomfort only grew. "Don't think so, boss. They—ah—"

There was a bad feeling in Laxus' chest that only grew. "What is it?"

Bickslow swiped his hand over his face. "If the guards are right? …They said an old man was staked out front."

Alive or dead? There wasn't enough bravery in the world to ask that question. Laxus had his jeans pulled over his shorts and a loose fitting sweater tugged on in record time. He wished he could lag; it would give him time to settle the curdled feeling in his stomach. As it were, he could only lumber along and wish he hadn't drank so much earlier.