Chapter 15: Crater

Bickslow lay on his back and stared thoughtfully up at the sky. Loke had really gone overboard with that last attack. Damn, that pipsqueak was strong now that he had access to his full celestial power. Bickslow had been thrown halfway across town with that blast. He was lucky he hadn't broken his neck. And Bickslow was probably never going to live down that he'd gotten his ass handed to him by the newbie, but he didn't particularly care.

The cosplayer had been cute, easy on the eyes, and the golden glimmer of her soul had been far too kind. He hadn't had the heart to go full out on her no matter what he'd said. After all, he was a circus brat – evading a whip should have barely slowed him down. And when someone caught you in a whip, you didn't try to pull away – you ran straight at them because a) without the tension the whip would lose its grip, and b) it generally freaked out the person you were running at. But Bickslow had played it like an amateur. Let the cosplayer have her victory – he was tired of this.

Overhead, the sky was incredibly blue and the remains of the Thunder Palace slowly wafted through the air. The babies were bopping back and forth above him, annoyed that Loke's magic had disintegrated their latest bodies. They hated being 'naked,' but Bickslow was too tired and bruised to transfer them to new containers. Besides, the crater he was lying in was kinda comfy. Maybe he'd just go to sleep right here. It was as good a place as any. Maybe when he woke up, somebody would have beaten the sense back into Laxus. Unlikely, but it was a nice thought.

Bickslow closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. They were all probably going to get thrown out of Fairy Tail for this. He'd miss his guild mark. Smiling wouldn't be as much fun without it.

"I don't suppose you're actually dead down there."

Bickslow opened one eye to find a familiar clan-marked face staring down at him. Mystogan Fernandes had one of his staffs in hand and was watching him with calm wariness. Jellal claimed that Mystogan was his twin brother, but he wasn't. Bickslow had met other identical twins. None of them had ever had nearly identical souls. The only real differences between Mystogan and Jellal's souls were their red strings and the gold cast of Jellal's magic. If Bickslow didn't know better, he would have said that Mystogan didn't actually have any magic. So, yeah, they definitely weren't twins, but that was their business. Just like with Loke, Bickslow had always left the matter alone.

"Not dead – just resting. I don't suppose you're stopping by to say that you managed to kick Laxus's ass?" he asked hopefully, because, seriously, somebody needed to do that. He pulled his visor back on. It had been a good day so far, but he was too tired to trust his eyes at the moment.

"No, I left that in the capable hands of Natsu and Gajeel."

The hell?

"Why would you do a dumb thing like that? Aren't Erza and Jellal running around again?" Bickslow thought about sitting up but decided against it. The rough landing had made his head woozy and, besides, he was comfy.

"Erza, Jellal, and Ultear worked together to take out the majority of the Thunder Palace with the assistance of those others still conscious. I was sent to ensure that you and Evergreen would not cause any further… disturbance." Mystogan rolled his staff between his hands.

"What about Freed?"

"It seems that Mirajane has regained access to her Satan soul."

Bickslow blanched. Well, shit. Hopefully, somebody had been kind enough to get a bucket to scrape up Freed's remains. Bickslow would be sure to say something suitably inappropriate at his funeral. He'd have to make sure that Freed's soul crossed over properly, too, and didn't stick around to become vengeful.

"Well, you don't have to worry about-" Bickslow was interrupted by a sound like the ringing of a gong. A bright white light swept through Magnolia. Bickslow blinked the spots out of his eyes once it had passed. "That idiot," he grumbled. "Thank god he's still extra glow-y in the middle."

"Fairy Law," Mystogan frowned and glanced around. "I'm surprised no one's hurt."

"Eh," Bickslow shrugged, "that new dragonslayer might be a charcoal briquette, but probably not. Laxus is still too glow-y to actually kill any of the guild with that spell." Mystogan gave him an odd look but didn't question what Bickslow meant. That was the general reaction people had whenever he commented on souls. Poppo chose that moment to perch on Bickslow's visor. Bickslow gently batted the soul away.

"I take it you won't be aiding Laxus further, then?"

"I did as much as I'm willing to. Laxus is an idiot, and he wouldn't want my help now anyway. This was never going to work. We all knew it, even if Laxus didn't."

"Then why did you go along with it?"

"We're the Thunder Legion." Bickslow didn't understand why people found that so confusing. Laxus hadn't always been smudgy with anger around the edges. He used to be so bright. They owed him a debt – all of them. They owed him so much that it would take lifetimes to properly repay it. They hadn't agreed to this because of the man that Laxus was now but because of the man that he had been. And might hopefully one day be again. "How long do you think I'll have to pack before Master Makarov throws us out? I wanna get pancakes."

"I doubt the master will throw you out of the guild."

"Sure he will. We hurt our guildmates. Makarov has views." Hopefully getting thrown out of Fairy Tail wouldn't mean not being allowed in Magnolia. Most of the civilians here had nice souls.

"I think you might be surprised." Mystogan straightened up. "Do you intend to lie there all day?"

"Nothing better to do." It was a terribly comfortable crater. The babies had gotten over their snit about the lack of 'clothing' and were nestled on his chest. They looked sort of like contented jellyfish.

Mystogan abruptly jerked his head up towards the sky and frowned. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'animal' and 'it's getting closer.'

"If you keep making that face, you'll get crackled," Bickslow informed him. Mystogan's soul was already a bundle of nerves – it didn't need the additional stress. Mystogan ignored him.

"I must be going," Mystogan murmured. He spun and left in a swirl of cloak. He did that a lot. Bickslow was fairly certain that Mystogan only wore it because it made his exits look more dramatic. Whatever.

Bickslow wiggled his fingers over the babies in the way that made them glow extra bright. Happy jellyfish. Then he closed his eyes and continued to drift.

A/N: Please feed the author. Even if it's just a smiley face, every little bit helps and is appreciated. Thanks for reading!