A sharp rapping on Lucy's door woke her early that morning. Clambering out of bed and wrapping her housecoat around her body, she stumbled over and yanked back the barrier. A police officer waited there. He was older, with a large bushy beard, thick brows, and worried eyes. Cops? Why? Her immediate thought was maybe something happened to Natsu. Her heart beat coldly in her chest.

"Good morning, miss."

Blinking blearily—it had been a long, sleepless and tortured night—she clutched her housecoat tight around her ribs and shivered. "Yes?" Not that she particularly wanted to hear what he said.

"My name is Officer Kemel. Sorry to bother you, I know it's early."

"What do you want?" She told herself to be politer.

Kemel didn't seem too affronted. "I don't want to alarm you, but we're investigating a death here in your building."

Lucy shoved her hair back from her face so she could see him more clearly. "A death?"

"Thornton Band was found dead in his apartment this morning."

Right. The bottom dropped out of Lucy's stomach. Knowing what she did and then having it confirmed were two totally different things. Don't act suspicious. Lying came effortlessly to this new girl wearing her face. "Do you think he was killed?" She even managed to insert a frightened warble in her voice. "Should I be worried?"

The officer rushed to reassure her. "We think it was natural causes, but just to be sure. Did you hear anything around 11?"

Lucy imagined telling him that she did it. Her tongue felt like lead. "No, sir."

He didn't even question her, not Lucy Heartfilia, a good girl from Fairy Tail. "Thank you. Try to enjoy the rest of your day."

She looked towards Natsu's discarded shirt and thought she definitely would not.

The sunlight filtering through a thin film of cloud was weak and dingy. Over the cobblestone path, Lucy's feet dragged. Feeling used and exhausted, she imagined all of the things she'd rather be doing. Sitting at home in the dark. Drowning. Scraping her skin off.

You don't have to do this, you know? She didn't really believe that, she was still herself enough to know that she had to say something, that this couldn't pass in silence.

Natsu's shirt felt heavy in her fingers, a testament to last night's impiety as she trudged towards his cottage. In the time it took her to get there, she tried to think of something to say, but what? That she was more terrible than she had ever been and couldn't even drum up the self-control to temper it? That while she was sorry he'd seen her and Zeref, she wasn't nearly sorry enough? That her only regret was that she'd been caught? You're a horrible girl.

It hadn't always been that way. She tried to think back to the time when Natsu was all she thought about. The only thing that truly stuck out in her mind was the way he kissed her so fervently last night. Immediately, that feeling was combated by the want she felt for Zeref's intoxicating black magic. She wrapped her arms around her middle and whimpered, remembering his mouth. And then Natsu's. back and forth, back and forth. The demon king's threats. The dragon slayer's desire. Natsu… Magic sang through her. Last night, it was like it wanted to tear him down and rebuild him. Reach inside and draw something out. Make him something more. Make him just like her.

She swallowed, throat bobbing, and thought, if you just kept going, he wouldn't have even fought you. He would have wanted it. He would have begged for it and loved every moment right up until that little shadow slipped into his mouth and tore off the mask and you got to see what was on the inside. The beast beneath the slayer.

Her heart pounded and a fire ignited low in her belly. Stop. Stop thinking about it. Especially now. Maybe when she went home she'd curl up in her bed and fantasize about all the things she didn't get the chance to do to him and work off some of that frustration, but for now she needed to keep calm, she needed to be serious and she needed to think of something to say that might make her worthy of his forgiveness. Absolutely nothing came to mind.

Her thoughts drifted back to her bedroom, to when he had her pinned to the bed and her fingers were through his hair. That's gone now, she reminded herself and was nearly swallowed by a wave of melancholy.

Was this what Zeref felt every day? Sort of numb and hollowed out, careless and reckless, detached from everyone he cared about? Though she felt powerful and wild, she also felt scared. Who was this Lucy? The girl she was before she faced Shadow Father was dead.

The destruction could be smelled before she saw it. He was angry. Stomach flopping with a small thrill of nerves, she diverged from the road up the broken stone path to his home. Above her head, smoke twisted overtop the trees, thick and suffocating. The ground under her feet turned to ash and the husked out skeletons of trees took over the once lush forest. The air tasted dry. He's so furious. She licked her lips apprehensively and beat back the hot shock that moved through her, the hunger. What's wrong with you? She was wickedly perturbed if his discord drove her so wild.

Through the trees he came into view, sitting cross-legged in the center of a ring of ash, fists on his knees squeezed tight, body a ball of burning fire. From where Lucy stood, it looked like the flames were eating him alive. He's mine to eat, she thought ludicrously, and felt cold magic prick her skin.

Noticing her, the roaring fire Natsu was bathed in soared higher, burned hotter. That rage was so intimidating, Lucy hesitated so she could marvel at all the power and hate that lived inside of him. Think of all the secrets Zeref's magic could tease out of his skin. Because there was more to Natsu than she knew, she could feel it.

From his spot on the ground, Natsu lifted his gaze and gave her the coldest look she'd ever seen, as if he were fighting not to scorch her to ash, too. How much potential for violence did he hold in those hands? Are you so eager to find out? The magic in her body said yes. Her heart cried. Her skin sang. Realizing she was staring, she blinked and shook herself. You came here for a reason, now stop standing there and say something.

She twisted her fingers through the fabric of his shirt and cleared her throat. "Natsu—"

He stood, the fire blazing hotter still—hot enough that her skin crisped.

"That hurts," she told him.

"Good," he said maliciously, but after an excruciating second he extinguished the fire. It looked as if it cost him something to do so. Once the flames cleared, she could see that his face was a mask of resentment. Never had she seen him so infuriated. Her breath quickened, her skin broke out in goose bumps.

"I just wanted to come by and—"

"Shut up, Lucy, and leave me alone," he growled and turned from her, stalking back to his cottage. With each step small tendrils of flame rose from his skin, as if he couldn't keep it all inside. Lucy knew how that felt.

Watching his shoulders sway as he stomped off, an unexpected pain shot through her. It had been days since she'd felt anything quite so sincere. "Natsu, wait!"

It didn't take much convincing; he whipped around and came back to her, long legs eating up the ground so quickly it was staggering. There was a sharp, murderous look in his eyes. Lucy shrank back, thinking for the first time ever that maybe Natsu would really hurt her. Then she strengthened her resolve; she'd reap what she sowed.

"What?" His tone cut through her.

"I—"

Furiously, he grabbed her by the shoulders with scalding hands and pushed her back against a tall, solid oak. The tree was one of the only ones in the immediate vicinity that had withstood his assault, its bark only somewhat curled by fire.

Lucy's breath left her lungs and stayed that way, between her legs throbbing, her heart aching.

Natsu, doing his best to ignore the hot as fuck look on her face, grabbed his shirt from her hands. It burst into flames and disintegrated. Snarling indignantly, he threw the remaining ash at her chest; it exploded in a black cloud. He didn't even feel badly about it.

"Get out of here."

Lucy breathed again only to sputter and cough. Her pink shirt was ruined, and maybe her shorts, too, but she didn't complain, knowing that she deserved that and more.

Natsu turned away again and Lucy, not so willing to give up, caught his hand. His skin was much, much too hot to hold. She had to release him, but she'd done what she intended: stopped him in his tracks. "Please just give me a second."

Natsu, shoulders stiff, turned back to look at her. "I think you should leave. I don't have anything to say to you."

He certainly didn't look like he had anything to say. Nothing she wanted to hear, anyway. Why would he, she thought depreciatively, you used him and then kicked him out and invited in the demon king. The thought didn't shame her like it should have.

Natsu snorted a breath out of his nose and turned again.

Lucy tugged on her shirt worriedly. Don't give up, you have to at least try to smooth this over. Though she'd done terrible, wicked things, she couldn't imagine losing him. "Just—"

He stopped and scraped out, "Just let you explain?" His onyx eyes seared right through her.

Lucy opened her mouth.

Though he told himself to be quiet, Natsu said, "This should be good. Let's hear it."

Lucy admitted, "I don't know what to say." How much did he see? How much did he know?

"It'd be pretty fucking hard to explain if you don't know what to say, wouldn't it?"

Lucy recoiled.

Natsu pressed on mercilessly. "Who was he?"

He doesn't know. Lucy felt a cool, selfish wash of relief; somehow, the darkness had hidden Zeref from him. Or maybe the dragon slayer had been so distraught, he hadn't taken the time to realize who she was tearing into her bed. Guilt tried to suffocate her. Don't feel bad. She was Zeref's, after all.

While that was true, the guilt wouldn't totally go away; she cared about Natsu and wasn't that magic trying to tell her that he sort of belonged to her, too? It wanted him. She just didn't understand why.

Does it matter why? Maybe you should just do what you want. Not everything had to be lost. She said, "He was no one." As soon as the words were out she realized that she'd said the wrong thing.

Natsu's eyes got stormy and dark. "You're saying you kicked me out for 'no one'?" Again, he told himself to shut up. His mouth just kept on moving. "It meant so little to you?" His fists were flaming again. In an effort to regain some calm, he breathed heavily through his nose. The fire only flamed hotter than before.

Lucy looked at him in horror. "No! That's not what I meant."

He wasn't listening. "So you must just invite everyone in to your bed, huh?"

Lucy winced. "You don't understand..." She didn't, that was for sure.

"You're right, I don't," Natsu ground out.

Lucy twisted her fingers together. "I'm sorry."

She looked sincere, too. It's a fucking lie. Digging his nails into his palms helped to keep his anger in the forefront; this way, he could ignore Lucy's intoxicating scent, because she did smell wonderful. Sinful. And her skin... It looked alight and flushed, as it had last night when she was lying beneath him, looking like every fantasy he'd ever had. Between his legs pulsed and he felt himself get thicker.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

It felt like she still crawled inside his skin and twisted him up. All he could see was her dark eyes, her body. He got painfully hard. Fucking bitch. He hated that last night still turned him on. That's fine. He imagined her wrapping her legs around someone else's back, sighing for them instead. And then the sleepless night he had, lying in his hammock, fuming until he burned a hole straight through the bottom. There was the anger, back where it was supposed to be.

The lust was still there, but so was the betrayal. "Just... Why, Lucy? Why even ask me to stay if you were just going to kick me out for the next guy that came around? Like, you didn't even wait an hour." He couldn't hold in the last bit, it had been tormenting him all night and all morning.

Lucy let out a shaking breath. "I'm sorry, Natsu, I wanted you, but—" She didn't know what she was going to say. Maybe: 'Even though you drive me fucking crazy, I was afraid of hurting you. I can't stop thinking about Zeref. I belong to him like I haven't belonged to anyone before. She could go on.

You and Natsu could belong, too, that magic could make you two just alike, if you let it. She shivered involuntarily, not really knowing if it was true, but feeling almost crazy enough to find out, even if it meant killing him.

The dragon slayer still looked at her expectantly. Lucy reached for him, not knowing if she did it because she wanted to find out what would happen if she used Zeref's magic on him, or if she just wanted to feel his skin on hers.

Natsu dodged out of her range, knowing that if he let her touch him, he wouldn't be able to keep his head. "Let me guess, but I wasn't good enough? Sorry." Self-depreciation was a new thing, and it tasted bitter. There weren't many times in his life he'd felt inadequate.

Lucy flinched. "It wasn't like that." It was easy to remember the magic reaching up inside of her, trying to use her to steal away Natsu's breath. The memory made her skin pulse hotly with shame and excitement.

Lucy's scent was changing again. Natsu recognized the shift and associated it with the complete loss of his faculties. He couldn't stand here any longer and listen to her apologize; otherwise, despite the ludicrousness of it all, he'd actually want to hear it. "Shut up. Just stop talking."

She didn't. "Natsu, I didn't really want you to go last night—"

He was back in her face in an instant and clapping a hand over her mouth to keep her from talking. "You told me to get out! I thought I did something wrong. I thought I hurt you!" He pushed her back, jamming her shoulders against the bark of the tree so she had nowhere else to go. "And then you brought in someone else?" He could murder her he was so angry.

Lucy breathed heavily from her nose, lungs working too hard, heart beating like a hammer. He smelled good, like wood smoke and crushed grass. There was a myriad of emotions in his onyx eyes: hate and desire, pain and self-loathing. She loved them all.

Cold fire lanced through her. All you have to do is push and he'll be yours again. You don't even have to feel bad for it, he wants this. She could tell by the hardness between his legs, though the glower on his face would have her believe something entirely different. Maybe she could ignore that. See? All you have to do is take. She was very, very wicked. Excited.

Gods, please no, she prayed but still grabbed his wrist and pressed her lips against his palm.

On contact, Natsu paled, his eyes going heavy-lidded, and choked out, "Stop whatever it is you're doing."

Lucy squeezed his wrist tighter, fingers cutting into his skin, and arched her hips into his. Her moan came out muffled, the sound making the dragon slayer harder than he'd ever been before.

Frustrated, he used his free hand to grab her hair and pull it hard, forcing her head back. It only made her breathe harder, made her hips grind against his.

Fuck.

He wanted to scream at her, and kiss her, and tear her clothes off, take her anyway he wanted then hurt her like she'd hurt him. It took so much self-control to stop himself.

Lucy would have told him she couldn't help it, but his hand pressing into her lips with near bruising intensity kept her mouth firmly closed. She knew she should feel terrible, she should be ashamed or abashed, but nothing so human came to her. All she felt was the need to swallow his burning rage; she reveled in the idea. Why is this happening? Tiny threads of darkness jumped from her fingers into his wrist, tainting his skin with thin lines. They disappeared almost immediately.

It was enough. Natsu, breathing raggedly, hissed like she'd cut him with a too-dull knife, and took his hand away from her mouth, finding place for it against the tree trunk at her side. The bark began to smoulder.

Lucy licked her lips and looked at him with eyes that danced in the pale morning light, blacker than he remembered them ever being before. They were easy to get lost in. Focus. He couldn't, not with his fingers still tangled in her hair. His throat felt tight. You hate her. The reminder was definitely welcomed, because looking like that, she was as aberrant as she was tempting. And her scent…

Whatever she's doing, it's not real. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real. It surprised him how much he wanted it to be, though. Don't forget. Don't forget the man she was getting ready to fuck. Don't forget it wasn't just you. The rage helped clear his mind for a breath, though it seemed the angrier he became the more Lucy changed, her chest heaving, the air exploding out of her lungs laced with that intoxicating scent.

Sensing his wavering resolve, Lucy found both of his hands, untangling the one from her hair, then guided him to her breasts where he grabbed her and squeezed too roughly.

Fuck. "Just tell me it meant nothing." The words came out like a gasp.

Lucy blinked dolefully up at him. Nothing? Though she wanted to, she couldn't make herself lie about Zeref. "…It didn't mean what you think it does."

He clutched her harder still, hard enough that his hands would be imprinted in her body. Good. Like she was his and he was trying to mark her. Definitely not. "You're not even trying to defend yourself."

"I'm sorry," she tried again.

There was hardly any space at all between them; it would take so little effort to kiss him. She knew he'd resist until their mouths met and then he'd cave. He wouldn't be able to help it. She bent towards him and flicked her tongue against his lips.

Feeling electrocuted, Natsu leaned back, but not as far as he should have. His fingers moved on their own accord, pinching her through her shirt until she purred. It was a fucking fantastic sound. Don't forget. Again, he imagined the man leaning overtop of her. His head cleared a little. "What's going on with you, Luce?"

Her spine bowed, bringing her closer to him still. "Natsu—I—" Think of something. It was difficult, he was so distractingly angry and she breathed it in like some kind of monster. Focus, focus, focus. "I'm sorry. I didn't want for it to happen like that."

He heard what he wanted to, his head was so cobwebby. His mouth was moving again. "Tell me I'm the only one you want." Why are you asking this? He kept telling himself to be stronger, but Lucy… He thought maybe he loved this girl. Maybe we can make it better.

She stared at him blankly. Natsu waited for her to say something.

Her mouth opened, lips looking as red as blood, then closed. Nothing came out.

"Lucy." He squeezed her hard again. Don't beg. 'Please' was on his tongue anyway. "Tell me."

"I can't, Natsu." It should have been easy to lie. The solution seemed so blatantly obvious, yet she couldn't make herself do it.

Natsu gave her a disgusted look, sick with himself and sick with her, and made himself break contact with her body. His palms throbbed, getting hot in her absence. "You can't."

She worried her bottom lip, knowing that she was ruining everything. "I'm sorry."

The fury was back full force, his body burning. "You fucking asked me to stay. If you had someone else in mind, then you should have just left me out of it." He had to turn away from her, otherwise he'd do something with all that rage. Totally burn the forest to the ground, both of them in it. The first step was the hardest, but once it was taken, he put his home in his sights. Just don't look back.

"Natsu!"

Lifting his hand over his head, he flipped her off. Lucy flinched, thoroughly scolded, and watched him burst into his cottage, flames still dancing around him. The door slammed closed so hard that the whole exterior wall shook. She stared desolately at the place he had been, her heart throbbing painfully in her chest.

Inside and staring at a blank wall, Natsu found it easier to think without her smell making him utterly insane. Panting like he'd run miles instead of feet, he listened for Lucy's retreating footsteps, half hoping that she'd just fuck off, half hoping that she'd come to the door. He told himself that the latter was so that he could yell at her some more, really get out what he had to say. To think anything else made him want to raze everything to the ground.

What the fuck is going on with you? If you're pissed, you're pissed. Stop obsessing.

His head was a mess, caught between remembering the feel of Lucy's mouth, her skin, her sighs against his mouth, and then her fingers pressing into someone else's skin, pulling at someone else's clothes, kissing someone else, so soon after he'd been with her, his kiss was probably still on her lips.

His throat burned with hot fire. Suddenly, he was looking at his door again, clutching the metal handle, and he realized he had every intention of going back out there to scream and destroy some more. The handle turned to liquid in his palm. He reached through the hole it left behind and tore the door back. Cold air rushed inside his cottage; it would have been refreshing, but the smell of smoke tainted it.

Finding Lucy was easy; she was in the same spot he'd left her, except her back was to him and her face was tipped toward the sky. She looked changed yet again, her skin kissed by something dark. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were as black as the starless sky. Seeing that, Natsu stalled, feeling rooted in place.

"What's happening to you?" She was nearly unrecognizable.

She didn't reply, choosing instead to turn and disappear into the woods while she still could.

It took a lot of effort not to give chase; there was a connection between them that hadn't been there before, one that was difficult to smother, though he tried again and again, pulling up an image of Lucy and the other wrapped up tight together. Did they finish once he had left? Wondering that gave him enough fuel to turn back around and retreat to his cottage.

Not knowing what else to do, Lucy returned to her apartment. Trekking up the familiar stairs, she wondered fleetingly, sickly, where Zeref was.

Guiltily, she prodded him with her stolen magic and waited in anticipation for him to respond. There was only dead air awaiting her. It was just as well; this is what had drawn her into this mess, this inexplicable urge to be near him.

At the top of the stairs, she took out her key and opened the door; there was a visitor waiting on the edge of her bed.

Loke turned hazel eyes her way, chin cradled in his hand. It was a staged position, one that was meant to look casual. If she didn't know him so well, she would have believed it, too.

"What are you doing here, Loke?" she asked before he could say a word.

"I wanted to talk to you." He stood, straightening his back and his shoulders so he towered over her.

Lucy clutched her elbows and looked into his eyes, unintimidated.

"There was a man that died next door last night; you don't know anything about that, do you?"

"I already told the police I didn't," she said stubbornly.

Loke raised a brow. "I don't know what's worse, the way you lie so smoothly or how much I want to believe you."

She said nothing.

"You're slipping away." He waited for her to deny his words, to prove him wrong.

"I knew it was a possibility."

Her apathy almost broke his heart. "Lucy, you promised me you'd come back. You said you were strong enough to handle it."

"Well, I was wrong, wasn't I?" she snapped out.

Loke's jaw hardened. "You shouldn't have—"

"I don't know what you expect from me, Loke. It was the only choice I had. What was I supposed to do, let the whole world rot?" She had somehow gotten close to him. Her skin was darkening once more with barely contained power that whipped through her like a whirlwind.

"Maybe, but now? I expect you not to attack your friends. I expect you not to use them."

"I didn't attack anyone," she said vehemently.

Loke, flat mouthed, tore his suit jacket off his shoulders. Throwing it to the ground, he then grabbed his white dress shirt and yanked at that too until he could expose his mottled shoulder. The girl's eyes lingered over his body, not looking horrified like he'd expected, but hungry. Like he was prey. "You attacked me."

She flicked her eyes up to his once more and said, "I had to."

"You wanted to."

There was a bit of that too, yes. Loke saw it in her eyes. "Do your teammates know what's happened?"

"They don't know anything," she admitted grudgingly.

"Well, don't you think they should? Tell them about Shadow Father, Lucy, tell them about Zeref."

Lucy glared at him. "Why? What difference does that make?"

"They're your friends, they care about you and maybe they can help—"

"As soon as they know what I've become, they'll be frightened."

"They should be, but that doesn't mean that they'll abandon your side," he said confidently.

When she got agitated, magic sparked in her core and tried to tear up through her fingers. If you hit him again with Zeref's magic, you're really going to hurt him. She was still herself enough to think that wasn't what she really wanted. Clenching her hands into fists helped contain it, just barely. "You don't know anything."

The shadows still throbbing under Loke's skin responded to Lucy's sudden change, growing unbearably cold, writhing… "Lucy—"

She knew what he was going to say, she could feel the response just as much as he could. "Shut up, Loke. It's fine."

"It's not and you know it." His voice cracked like a whip. "You aren't yourself—"

"Maybe I'm exactly who I'm meant to be," Lucy exploded. "Did you ever think of that? Did you ever think that the old me was a lie and this is the real deal?"

"You're wrong."

"If I'm so wrong then why is it so easy, huh? Why do I like it so much?" Lucy's voice shook.

Loke swallowed a lump in his throat. Why, indeed? "You don't mean that."

"I do." Right? "Every word."

He was quiet for a long time, studying Lucy while she looked at him obstinately, still fuming, breasts heaving with every breath. Finally, Loke said, "If you keep going down this path, I won't want to, but I'll be forced to terminate our contract. I won't play spirit for a dark mage."

That stung some. "I'm not—" She cut herself off. The magic that ran so prevalently in her veins was killing magic; it felt good when it used her body to take what it wanted. If that wasn't dark, then what was?

"You can't even deny it," Loke said sadly. Lucy scowled at him but didn't respond. He dared to touch her hand, then her cheek, tilting her face up so she looked squarely into his eyes. Her cold skin burned his in a pleasant, yet painful way. "I'm trying to find a way to fix this."

"And if I don't want to be fixed?"

Loke didn't reply, mostly because he couldn't.

He faded from view and she was alone once more.