At twelve, Natsu started drinking and kept on. By three thirty, he was drunk enough he was seeing double. By five, he flopped down on his messy floor, head sort of perched against the couch and stared blankly at the ceiling. By then, Lucy didn't stand front and center in his mind; she was a gentle whisper, clandestine and only mildly alluring.

Happy came in.

"Where have you been, Natsu? You didn't come into the guild at all today. And why is the forest all wrecked?" The cat's eyes tracked to Natsu's hand where he had an iron grip on a mostly empty bottle of whisky. His tail twitched. "Were you drinking?"

In reply, Natsu took another huge gulp of the fiery liquid.

Happy's already thin lips completely disappeared. "Are you and Lucy fighting? She hasn't been to the guild, either."

"Get out."

"Natsu—"

"Get out!" He didn't want to think about Lucy. He didn't want to hear her name or remember anything about her.

Somehow, she was the only thing in his head, back full force like the dead awakened by a spell at the mention of her name.

Happy winced and muttered something, annoyed, and left, slamming the door in his wake. Natsu clambered to his feet and locked the door, then went right back to his spot and tipped the bottle into his mouth.

Around eight, someone knocked on the door. Natsu stared at it dispassionately and kept as quiet as he could.

It wasn't quiet enough. The lock jangled, then the door popped open and his unwanted visitor made her appearance.

Lisanna was clad in a short pink dress that kissed her thighs in a loose wave. Her hair was pinned back by two blue star clips, her bangs loose on her forehead.

"Natsu?" Her eyes settled on him, then her mouth dropped into an O of surprise. She was across the room in seconds and down at his side. "Natsu? Are you hurt?" Her hands found his head, delicate fingers probing through his hair looking for a lump or a cut or something telling. The only thing she found was the gross stench of alcohol and a man with too-glossy eyes.

Natsu pushed her off; the motion made the world spin unpleasantly. "How the hell did you get in? I locked the door." Right? Maybe Lucy was really messing him up. Maybe he was hallucinating—imagining he was doing things that he wasn't.

Her cheeks pinked. "I remembered where you kept your spare key under that old gnome out front. You know, the one with the eyes bleached out by the sun and the cap missing large chunks of paint." It was creepy as hell. But it also made a good hiding spot. "Sorry."

That was… years ago. He forgot that it was even still there. "What are you doing here?"

"…Happy told me you've been in kind of a bad mood." That was an understatement, half the forest around his house was burned to ash; it was amazing his home still stood, though it hadn't escaped his wrath unscathed, as was evident in the deep scorch marks on the floor and his tattered, seared hammock.

Natsu grumbled evasively, annoyed that Happy was telling his secrets.

"Happy thought…" she paused, hesitant to kick the hornets' nest. "Are you and Lucy fighting?"

Her name was like a punch in the throat. Natsu swallowed and found a patch of ceiling to glare at. His magic was trying to rise again. He had spent so long numbing his mind and Lisanna tore off the scab with a few well timed and well placed words.

When he didn't respond, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He raised a brow and said blandly, "No."

She sighed. "Alright, that's okay." She crossed her arms over her knees and leaned her chin on them. "Have you eaten dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"You're always hungry." And some food would help soak up some of that alcohol he drank, maybe sober him up some. It had been a long, long time since she'd seen Natsu drunk, and never like this. Usually he was happy when he got into it, but this… Rarely had she seen him so furious. "Just relax and I'll make you something."

"Get out, Lisanna. Lock the door behind yourself."

"Mmhm," she said dismissively and stood. Natsu closed his eyes again, but peeled them open once more when he heard some shuffling behind his head. Tipping his head back, he watched Lisanna search for his couch under all of the clutter. Way beneath piles of magazines, clothes, dirty towels, a few bowls, a stray spoon, a satchel of Happy's that smelled like old fish, and exactly three pairs of socks, it revealed itself. It was the first time Natsu had seen it in so very long that he'd forgotten that it was light green in colour. Corduroy.

Lisanna hesitated removing the final articles: a rusty old sword, a caldron riddled with holes, and a canteen emblazoned with a language she couldn't read. They were all souvenirs from jobs he'd completed at one point or another. Being a mage… it was everything to Natsu, and he kept something from every single job he did. Her heart swelled with an emotion that she couldn't—wouldn't—name.

The last item that she pulled out was a picture frame that only added to that breathless-heart-crunching feeling in her chest. Looking back at her from inside the frame were two smiling children, a young Natsu and Lisanna, their arms wrapped around each other's necks while they grinned manically. Lofted between them was a large fish. It took both of them to hold because it was bigger than either one of them. She was remarkably pleased she had made it into his collection of special things.

"What are you doing?" Natsu finally asked.

Lisanna looked at him sprawled across the ground and felt a pang of sadness. They had been so happy when they were kids, but life did unexpected things. Right now he looked like he was on the bad side of an ugly story. She wished she could take that hollowed out look from his eyes. "I'm cleaning off a place for you to sleep. You can't spend the night on the floor."

"I'm comfortable here."

"Doesn't look comfortable." His head was bent at a funny angle, and under his back was a frying pan that he didn't bother moving, just curved around awkwardly, as if he expected it to bend to his will.

"You'll thank me tomorrow," she promised.

Natsu propped himself up on his elbows unsteadily and squinted at the pile of things Lisanna had moved to the floor. A maid's outfit peeped out from under a Sorcerer Weekly magazine that had done an article on Lucy. It was her first. He turned away from it, disgusted.

Lisanna set the final item on top of the pile and offered Natsu her hand. "Come on."

Natsu gritted his teeth and didn't move.

Seeing the stubborn set to his jaw, she kicked aside his legs and planted her feet firmly between them and grabbed his limp hands. His skin was warm, as if the sun had been heating it, though he had been sitting inside for hours. This close, she could see that his face was pale and his hair stood on end even more than usual, as if he had been thrusting his fingers through his locks and wrenching. He looked anguished and despondent. It hurt her to see him like that.

With a grunt and a groan, she hauled him to his feet, but with Natsu as heavy as he was and as limp as a noodle, Lisanna had to jam her shoulder into his chest to keep him upright. "Geez. How much did you drink?"

He didn't answer.

Doesn't matter. Panting, she ignored his nearness—easy enough when he was drunk-breathing down her neck—and wrestled him back onto the couch. Natsu flopped back, boneless, and threaded his fingers together as a pillow to tip his head back into. Then he just sighed and stared at the ceiling again.

Lisanna sat beside him, tucking one leg underneath her. "Can't you tell me what's bothering you?" she pried.

Natsu rolled his head and looked at her through his lashes. "It's not worth talking about." Gods, Lucy… he was still so mad. If he started talking about it again he might raze his whole cottage to the ground.

Lisanna glanced at the picture of them together. "There used to be a time you told me everything."

Natsu followed her gaze. "We were kids then."

"So?"

"So, I didn't have any secrets worth keeping."

"You could only tell me all the things that didn't matter?" A silver brow went up challengingly. "Don't lie. We were closer than that."

"It's been three years," he reminded her.

Three years since she'd been in Edolas. Three years since she thought her life in Earthland was over. Three years since she'd lost her best friend and whatever they had been building between them. She had thought she'd marry him one day, but now that she was back it felt like they had never been more distant. When she thought of that, of what they had and what they lost, the memory left a bitter-sweet taste on her tongue. She felt embarrassed that she had been so forward back then and whimsical and sad that she couldn't be that girl again. Despite that, she was happy that she had at least that much with him when they were young.

"Sure, it's been three years, but we're still friends," she reminded him.

Natsu dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed his face, a grunt of annoyance on his lips.

"Hey," she said gently and pulled his hands away. "I know that whatever is wrong between you and Lucy, you'll figure it out."

Natsu looked at her with haunted eyes. "Don't say her name here." Get out of my head.

"Sorry," she said quietly and wrapped her fingers around his in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. Natsu squeezed her hand back, feeling entirely too stupid for his own good. There was one way he could think to get that girl from his head. It would be easy, too. He and Lisanna went way back; there was lots between them, true, genuine feelings that he could count on.

Lisanna squeezed his leg. "I don't know what's going on, but I want to be there for you."

Of course she did. She was always good for that. The sprouts of an idea started to unfurl into something tangible, something that seemed like a good, solid thing in his drink-addled brain. Reason spoke out. "You should go, Lisanna." Before he could do something very, very stupid.

"I want to stay with you for awhile." At least until he sobered up.

An emotion she couldn't place flitted over his face.

Stupid was winning. Natsu wetted his lips, less nervous than he should be.

Thinking to take Lucy from his mind, he pulled Lisanna close and laid his mouth against hers.

Lucy's body was so hot she took a cool shower to try to temper her rising discomfort. It did little to help. Realizing that after twenty minutes of standing beneath a frigid spray, she turned off the water, sort of dried herself, and came back to flop on her bed naked. She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep.

Natsu haunted her and made it impossible.

His fury still beat inside her heart. Like some kind of perverse vampire, she fed from the power it generated, knowing that if she allowed it, it would build up the magic Zeref had given her. Like an addict, she welcomed it with obsessive vigor, encouraging it to build and build until the power became too much to hold and toppled out of her skin. It seeped across the floor, tarnishing everything, even turning the floorboards black.

It wasn't as relieving as she thought. Twitching, uncomfortable in her own skin, she reached out for Zeref again, thinking maybe he'd be able to sooth her agitated mind. It was his magic, after all.

There was more of that impenetrable wall of silence she was met with earlier. Unwilling to be utterly ignored, she tried to convey her emotions through their connection, buffeting him again and again with her inconsolable restlessness. This was his doing; shouldn't he make an attempt to sooth her? He couldn't just turn his back forever and leave her helplessly in the throes of his magic, right? She'd be swallowed whole. It'd eat her alive. There'd be nothing left.

Please, she begged silently, knowing for certain that he could hear her, I need you here. It felt pathetic to plead. She wasn't used to begging for anything, especially attention, but if it drew him to her, then she'd be willing to do anything.

At first there was a quiet niggling in the back of her mind. That quietness grew louder as Zeref gradually, reluctantly, opened up to her. The next time she brushed by him he answered, a sweet gentle caress of dark energy that had her sucking a sharp breath between her teeth.

Come here, she thought at him. Be here with me.

A blot of blackness came into being. Her immediate thought was that he had obeyed, but it was only a flitting shadow, a piece of himself and not the man in person. All the same, it slithered over the edge of her bed and pressed into her bare breasts, so soothingly cold when she was still far too hot. It twisted around her, an ethereal hand that pinched and rubbed her nipples until they were hard. She moaned and felt Zeref smile so far away. She grasped the sheets with shaking fingers and again silently pleaded with him to join her in person. He denied her by lashing against her stomach with a painful piece of magic, leaving no doubt in Lucy's mind that the answer was a firm no.

That was fine, as long as he lashed out again. He obliged, magic crackling over her skin like minute lightning storms, each one wracking her body and drawing a moaning sigh from her lips.

When she begged instead for release this way, knowing he had the power to make her feel good without ever laying a finger on her skin, he pulled back for no other reason than to be cruel. Lucy stifled a frustrated cry and rubbed her hands over her too-sensitive skin. She thought he'd be truly unsympathetic to her plight and leave her hot and frustrated, but to her surprise he came back for her, using his thoughts to drag that shadow over her skin. Its touch wasn't quite as solid as Zeref's fingers would have been had he actually been there, but it was enough that she quaked under the teasing pressure.

Lucy's breath came faster as Zeref's shadow pinched and prodded, slipped through her hair, brushed by her lips, wrapped around her breasts and then dove lower to caress between her legs.

Tension and frustration were building. That light caress was quickly turning out to be not nearly enough for Lucy. She toughed it out for another few breath-stealing, mind-numbing minutes until she thought she'd break apart if she didn't come soon, then she started to touch herself.

Between her legs was hot and wet. Though she wished it was Zeref there, her fingers felt good roving along her over-sensitive body, especially when she took into consideration that through that oily ink blot, Zeref watched her every move. It slithered tightly around her breasts and squeezed so hard it was nearly painful. She loved it. Her back arched involuntarily, her heart hammered so hard she thought it would break her ribs, and her body sang.

Closer now, she rubbed her fingers in tight, quick circles. Zeref's shadow reached out a small slippery tendril and pushed between her parted lips, filling her mouth so her moans were muffled. Then it worked itself slowly in and out over her tongue. She sucked and licked and imagined it was his body and not a teasing piece of tangible magic. That was enough to send her over the edge. She came hard and would have screamed but her mouth was too full. Through their connection, she felt a split second later when Zeref followed suit. She thought, next time you should be here with me.

She knew he heard and understood because the cool shadow slipped from her mouth and caressed gently between her legs before it dissipated.

It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either.

Even through his drunken haze, Natsu's cheek hurt almost as much as his pride. The last look he had of Lisanna was her storming through his door in a whirl of silver hair, agitation and hurt. He didn't understand why, though. She wanted to kiss him. Usually he was pretty dumb about that stuff, but never with Lisanna. She always wore her heart on her sleeve.

On his mouth he could still feel where her lips pressed into his. Their first kiss as adults wasn't anything like he imagined it to be. It was too full of pain and regret to be anything special. She had trembled and let out this gasping, sort of pained moan, then pulled away so sharply he was left reeling. Then she had slapped him. And that was the fucking end of that.

For awhile he just sat on his (somewhat) clean couch and stared at the place she had been, feeling rather miserable and sorry for himself. And angry. There was always anger. Why were the women in his life constantly pushing him back?

Then he decided that it was Lucy's fault—his misery, Lisanna's rejection—and with that realization came motivation for action.

Without thought his hands ignited once more, burning tacky, sharp holes in the corduroy of his couch. As soon as he stood the flames smothered and died; there was that, at least. His cottage would still be standing.

Tearing open the door he took out into the night, not exactly sure what he was going to do, but he knew that whatever it was, it was going to be horribly satisfying.

A/N: Okay. So even I read this and was like, WTF? Whatever. That's cool. It is what it is. Also, I'm back!