Thank you for the lovely reviews! They make my day! I think I'm going to change the update schedule so that this gets updated every 1st & 3rd Friday of the month. It's been really easy to write - I even wrote this chapter and the next one too the day after posting the last one!

Enjoy!

Staring up at the blank white ceiling, Mystogan contemplated if he should get Reedus to paint something on it. Like a blue sky with clouds. Or the stars. Or… something. Anything other than the off-white tiles he was confronted with now. Trees would also be good. Mystogan had made camp in and under a great number of trees over the years. The shifting light, the smells, and the constant ambient noise of the wind and forest inhabitants made for a very peaceful lullaby, and they had been a key part of what Mystogan enjoyed most about traveling.

Which he could no longer freely do, he realized, face souring at the unhappy thought. Maybe he should just… run away from all this. Get up, and walk out the door. He didn't really have any savings – had never seen the point – but it wouldn't be too difficult to live off the land with his skill set. Pick up work here and there along the way to the next location an Anima portal would appear in. Not such a bad life to envision. It was basically what he had been doing up until this point anyway.

It would certainly get him out of the lecture he was about to receive from the only other human Edolas emigrant he knew of. (He had no idea what was up with the Exceed eggs that had been dropped on Earthland and quite frankly didn't really want to. Because that probably meant that Extalia was up to something and he had his hands pretty full just dealing with a single Edolas kingdom's shenanigans thank you.)

"Minor alcohol poisoning," Porlyusica flatly informed him. "Very minor. Was there really a need to call me all the way over to the guild for this?" She turned away from Mystogan's infirmary bed, and coolly regarded the woman perched on the only chair in the room. "You of all people should know the symptoms and how to treat this."

Cana flushed under the pink-haired healer's gaze, and rubbed the back of her neck. Grinning sheepishly, she gave her a slight shrug. "Just thought it would be good to get a professional opinion. I'm no doctor, after all, and he seemed pretty sick at the time. Had trouble breathing, stumbling, and… yeah. So I got concerned since I don't know what his limits are."

That was an understatement. A couple of hours into his drinking binge with Cana, several guild members had come knocking on the supply room door looking for their new guild master. For what, Mystogan couldn't say. Because he hadn't asked. Instead he'd tried to barricade the door with wine barrels and some of them hadn't been as empty as he'd assumed. The sudden movement, combined with the unexpected weight of the barrels, had done some funny things to his stomach. And his head. After that, it was a bit of a blank for him. Next thing he knew, he was in the guild's infirmary with a grouchy old woman shining an incredibly bright light in his eyes.

Porlyusica heaved a sigh and turned back to regard Mystogan with sharp eyes. "What in the world happened to you, kid? This isn't the kid I know. You're usually far more cautious than this. You're even letting your face be shown to someone."

Now this was odd. Porlyusica's misanthropy was well known, especially to Mystogan. Prior to this moment, he'd believed wholeheartedly that she really couldn't care less if any of her acquaintances died. It had always struck Mystogan as strange that she'd chosen to heal people despite not being able to stand them. Maybe she did care. Somewhere deep, deep down. But even then, did she really know him well enough to say those sorts of things about him? Irritation stung him.

"Aw, give the poor bastard a break!" Cana told the healer. "He's had a rough day. Any normal person would be out of their mind with stress. He was just looking to relax a bit." She paused. "And… took it a little too far." Or maybe a lot too far. "But that's normal." Not the barricading of the door, but the urge to drink away problems was definitely one of humanity's rather more common vices – as she could personally attest to.

Cana was a good person. Cana was such a good person. Mystogan almost felt like crying again.

This defense, touching as it was to Mystogan, elicited only scorn in Porlyusica. "Pray tell, what on Earthland would warrant this level of stupidity?"

…Did that mean that there was something on Edolas that would warrant it? If there was, Mystogan wanted to know what it was.

The corner of Cana's mouth twitched as she tried to hide a smile. "He was just named guild master today."

Porlyusica blinked. Once. Twice. Dumbfounded, she stared hard at Cana. "Did the old geezer finally bite it?" she finally asked after a full minute of utter silence.

Mystogan choked on his own spit. Maybe he'd been a little preemptive in thinking that she cared, just a smidgen, for the members of the guild.

This time, Cana failed to hold back her grin. "No. He retired today. In fact, he's probably downstairs somewhere, celebrating. Surprised you didn't see him on your way in, honestly."

It was honestly a minor miracle that Mystogan had made it to the infirmary room without anyone spotting him. …Or had they? Mystogan hadn't actually asked Cana about that yet. For that matter, how did he get to the infirmary? It was on the second floor? Did Cana carry him? She was strong enough to carry those barrels easily. If she did carry him to the infirmary though, he needed to know how. Fireman's carry, sack of potatoes, or princess. This was vitally important information.

Another heavy sigh was released from Porlyusica's lungs. "I see. So Makarov's fine. Well. That's that, then."

Wait. Maybe she did care after all? And was just bad at showing it? This was giving Mystogan whiplash. His head hurt. Like someone was trying to sculpt his brain into a new shape. Why did people drink? Why? This was a horrible feeling. Mystogan was never touching alcohol again. But especially not the wine. Not with Cana making plans. No way.

The healer turned and regarded him coolly. "Stay and rest here. Don't even think of leaving until tomorrow."

He hadn't planned to. He didn't have a house. Oh god, where was he going to live…? Mystogan didn't have money. Or credit. Or references. Or even a real name. Maybe he could go live in the woods like Natsu. It seemed to work for the pyromaniac.

Unacknowledged by Mystogan, Porlyusica spoke to Cana instead. "Keep an eye on him. Make sure he stays hydrated. Turn him on his side. And keep a bucket nearby."

Cana saluted her with the wrong hand. "I know the drill, Captain. He'll be fine in my hands."

"Wait," Mystogan pleaded, reaching out to grab Porlyusica's sleeve. She couldn't leave just yet. "I have a question." As a longtime resident of Earthland, she had to know the answer. She had to. "Do mountains grow back?"

Silence fell over the infirmary. Porlyusica's eyes narrowed as the healer considered him carefully. Then she casually swatted away his hand and took out her pocket light again. "Did he hit his head at any point?" she asked Cana. Grabbing Mystogan's hair, she held his head in place while she shone that infernal light into his eyes once more.

"May…beee?" The uncertainty was strong in her response. "I didn't notice, honestly."

"…He may have a slight concussion."

Mystogan blinked furiously as Porlyusica removed the light at last. Fireworks burst across his line of sight, partially obscuring the other occupants in the room. Maybe it was the shaken up feeling in his brain, but he couldn't remember what a concussion was, exactly. Was that a bad thing?

"I'll leave him some nausea medication on the nightstand. Make sure he takes it." Porlyusica withdrew a small bottle and set it down. "And make sure he eats. Lots of protein would be good. And fruits and vegetables too – preferably the dark leafy greens."

Just the thought of eating made Mystogan's stomach do summersaults. No. No way. No thank you.

"Hmm." Cana clicked her tongue. "Afraid Mira's not in today. And I can't cook. Will bar food work? That's the only other places I eat at."

"If it fulfills the requirements I just stated, then yes."

Vision finally clearing up a little, Mystogan peered at the pair. "Can I have a book or something at least?" He wasn't too picky about the genre right now. Or ever, really. He didn't have a lot of possessions or hobbies… or the time to acquire any.

"No." The healer turned to glare at him. "Don't even think about it. Don't think at all if you can help it. Your brain needs to rest."

That was going to be a tall order.

"And no more socializing, either." She let out a huff. "In fact, just shut up for the day and lie there."

That sounded incredibly boring. Especially when there was nothing to look at in the room. The idea of getting Reedus to paint the place was becoming more appealing by the second. Green really would be an incredibly calming color for the room. Restful. Not harsh.

"Answer me, boy."

Mystogan scowled. Boy? He was nineteen. An adult already.

Porlyusica grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together, while she glowered at him. "Answer me when I speak to you. Or has living on your own for so long made you forget what manners are?"

"Okay," he mumbled around her grip. "Got it."

Releasing him, she picked up her medical bag and made for the door. "Get me if anything changes with him."

"Will do."

And then Porlyusica was gone, and it was just Mystogan and Cana in the infirmary. Companionable silence sat between them for a couple of minutes. "Anything you don't like?" Cana suddenly asked him. "In the food department?"

"…I'm not picky." Didn't Porlyusica say no more socializing? …Not that he really cared. Cana had broken the rule first. "By the way, how did you get me up here?"

Cana flashed a confident smirk at him. "Carried you. Over my shoulder like a sack." She held up her fingers in the victory sign. "I covered up your head first. So no one saw even a hair, let alone your face. Praise me."

He gave her a thumbs up. "Good job. And thank you."

"I got your back, Mysty."

Hmm. Yeah, no…he didn't like that. "We're not doing that."

"Then Guild Master Mysty."

That was objectively worse. "No."

Cana stood up and patted him on the arm. "Too bad, we're friends now Mysty. I'll be back in a bit with some food."

Friends, huh. He'd already hoped a bit that they were… but it was rather nice to hear it from her, too.

"Friends," he confirmed.

…Maybe the day hadn't been all bad.

Nevermind, he was going to throw up.