Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence.


Note:

Flashbacks and thoughts in italics.

I do not condone or encourage any behaviours in this story. It is simply a fictional story.


Author's Note:

song: holding out for a hero


CHAPTER 10

holding out for a hero


[Third Person POV]

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Fairy Tail surrounded the enemy's base. Lucy blew a whistle, tweaked her mini skirt and styled pigtails. She stood to his left, watchful of every movement. Her keys tinkle for Loke to emerge out of the void. It took them a helicopter to get to the other side of the mountains where the Thunder God Tribe sat camouflaged. The slopes were covered with dense forest, not a single road on the map. A squad of four couldn't reach beyond them on foot within forty-eight hours.

Gray shot his partner a sidelong glance. This time, Levy had been substituted for Erza. She undid the straps around her elbows, taking out something wedged among the other things. She jabbed some digits into the equipment's rune-inscribed panel. A Hexbane Detonator. They drew back outside the blast radius before she launched it towards the fence that erupted into effulgent flames, black magic dying out. The Solid Script mage cocked her head in his direction, signalling him to follow. Gajeel has a badass mothafucking bitch for a girlfriend. His train of thoughts Full-Stopped. Her pleated shorts billowed while skipping past the busted fencing. She lunged ahead, her boots barely grazing the ground in the race towards the entrance.

He burst inside the room as soon as he got an opening. Laxus's cronies hadn't seen it coming, slow to brace for the blast of ice that hit them. Levy was fleet-footed. She wasted no time poisoning the first guy as she pulled out the blowgun from her belt, aiming it at Freed Justin's shoulders. It hit the target with precision, as it should. She considers it her responsibility to protect her boyfriend's sister. But that did nothing to mellow Gray's vexation at being outstripped in getting Freed for himself. Disheartened, he takes the second rascal by the collar of his shirt, striking him at his weakest spot. The balls. Bickslow clutched his groin, rolling to the floor in pain, only to force himself to stand up before the ice mage could counterstrike. He laughs maniacally, chin tucked as his tongue furls outside like a snake's. Although Gray held up his fists, he failed to block the heavy rear hook that threw him off balance. The punch pounded in his ears, blood sizzling out his nose.

Gray twists upright with a high kick, growling as the enemy expands his seith magic, souls sealing inside his dolls. It's about time they played with magic. The dolls gather mid-air in a straight line only to be frozen by ice magic. Bickslow's mohawk bristles at the sight of his dolls dropping to the ground, souls gasping through the pores, anticlimactic. When the ice hammer materialises in Gray's palm, the seith mage is too distracted by the dolls to notice. The hammer almost cracks once it meets the back of Bickslow's head, knocking him out cold.

Gray turns towards the manacled woman before him, the sweat on his brows crystallising to puffs of white. As much as he wanted to bash the brains out of their heads for what they did to Juvia, giving her first aid was their priority now.

He ran his eyes about her bleeding form, mouth screwing to a worried scowl. It's a wonder how her tattered dress still clung to her pallid torso. A long strip of cloth had been ripped at the hips, exposing the dried blood from the nicks on her Guildmark. A black-and-blue bruise covered one side of her face. The rest of the wounds scattered across her abused body, lacerations from whips and malice. Blood was everywhere. She was soaked in it. Gray's gaze wavered, struggling to take in the overwhelming sight.

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She awakened with a jolt. Loke had been squatting beside her with a creased forehead while Lucy took the other side, rubbing her hand inside hers. Her cheeks were patted to check her consciousness. All touches became stinging slaps against her sore skin.

Juvia realised she couldn't form words. Her throat had parched, a metallic taste lingering. Blood. She must've bitten her tongue. Numb and fragmented, she felt as if she lay on a field of snow, her body diced into scattered pieces. Vision swirled, and the elusive concept of time slipped away with each blink. The room: a cocoon of endless hours. She saw fleeting faces, lights flickering like memories.


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The base camp is evocative of Gothic architecture with three-fold pointed arches, flying buttresses, and feverish pink rose windows. When Jellal got here, he was way too late. Everything must have been taken care of by now. That's what anyone would expect. Yet, that wasn't the case. From the information passed to him, there was something here, a curse only he could break off. He entered a lobby with portals to separate passageways. There were no doors. One step into the holographic interface had him standing before floor-length drapes hung from the head of a doorframe.

Flawless ribbed vaults loom above the auroral floors. Jellal did not expect what he found.

He moves the drapes to the side. A bathtub red with the smell of wine and the woman rising from it. The woman tipped her head back, her fringes swinging, heavily drenched in wine. She opens her eyes slowly, wine drops streaming as she stands up slowly. Her body is bare before him, tinged pink. Her gaze is soft. In an instant, Jellal perceives the subtle tendrils of her trap encircling his limbs, probing inward. It scares him.

What is she doing here?

Jellal narrows his eyes into slits aslant, and his fists curl slightly. Why has she appeared before him? Why now? He doesn't search for answers. This is temptation, and she is offering it to him. He steps back when she walks forward, spine straight, ample breasts jutted up. It is the same pattern but reversed. Hips sway. A clear intention in her sashay.

Her finger flicked his buttons to expose his chest. She reaches out to cup his face. He will not let her. Although he does not show it on his face, overcome with shock, he grabs her hand, holding it there until his jacket flies over her shoulders, covering her. Suede gloves grip her wrists tight, his emotions rippling from the touch. He waits for the upsurge; it comes, plunging them both.

The change is staggering. Erza wrenched her hands from his clasp. She grabbed his collar as her armour took shape about her torse like wings of steel. Her charms did not get to him, and the romantic atmosphere easily swapped with the initial dust of a battleground the instant she cottoned on. Yet they missed one ingredient that was required to set off a fight. She couldn't put a finger on it. They couldn't bring themselves to use magic. Truth is, they had forgotten to do so. Her mindscape narrowed until it became a speck in the distance. Rage remained, pushing her to what she did next.

She slapped him with steely palms that broke his skin.

He slapped back passionately.

Both of them fell to the ground from an impact beyond physical. Hysteria poured out of Jellal amidst the waves of absurdity. "You—You can't be serious." He laughed, bordering on heartily. He could not accept that she would ever think of something or commit something ridiculously fraught like this. She had definitely levelled up over the time they were apart, so much to the point that he didn't recognise this person anymore. He felt good that he didn't. This way, he could recover and let go faster. "You're going to jail for this! I don't know if Fairy Tail will chuck you out or not. But I give you my word. If they don't, I'll sue them and get my wife out of that snake pit."

"It's fascinating how you talk about your wife like you've known her for years." Erza pushed herself against him, her cold nipples poking his chest. "The only reason you married her is to get revenge on Gray. She doesn't know you like I do. She's nothing like me."

"I think I enjoy being somewhat of a mystery. Trust me, it's not that bad." He turned his face away when she tried to kiss him. "Unlike you, She isn't obsessed with the concept of power." Jellal squirmed under her, uncomfortable. "Now, if you could stop harassing me, I'd like to leave."

Erza's flinched. Change of mind? "Money is power, Jellal." She was finally his, and he would not accept her. She withdrew herself from him, indignant and confounded that he would refuse her once she submitted to him like this. He stood up, putting his hands in his pockets and shaking his head. "Like that," she mumbled, "Lockser and I cannot be any different."

Why had he felt he was overstepping boundaries each time he got to know her?

"Mrs Fernandez." He corrected her. "And no, you're right." He replied. Perhaps the butterflies she gave him were not the good kind. Their flapping turned his stomach. Had he always got them whenever they were near? "She's not a hypocrite like you." Erza never made him feel at home. He remembered. She hid behind her smiles and showed him a superficial impression of a woman so perfect, too good to be true. And fake she was. All he loved was the notion of her, something his mind created out of nothing. She did not love him. She was hollow, and they were both afraid he'd find it.

Jellal turns his back on her, shirt loose, only half-tucked in the waistline of his pants, and wrinkled from their wrestle on the floor. Everything that he fretted over was not genuine in the first place. "She's nothing like you." Here, he says goodbye to Erza and her beautiful charades. "She's mine."

Blue and red is an ugly combination. Why search for foreign shades when you could stay with your kind, the familiarities, things that make you feel safe and sound. "You know what's more alike?" It's strange how two people can be similar and still not feel comfortable around each other. She wasted his time and energy. So much of it. Night and day, he was heartbroken over nothing. Now, he resents Erza for an entirely different reason. "Us." There were both people broken but in disparate parts. "We shouldn't be together. Together, we might remain broken forever." We saw it. "We can find love, but we don't want to kill ourselves while we're at it." If he could entertain other options beyond double homicide-suicide, she could too, once she sorts out the mess she created.


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Natsu was barely informed since he didn't care to understand too many details. One thing he did know was that somebody had hit Gajeel's nerve. And hard. Thereby, metals blasted like bubble wraps, and the train rocked like a rattlesnake, people flying out of the vehicle like tennis balls. He might be an indecisive piece of shit, but as far as he had known him, once he had made up his mind, there was no stopping Gajeel. Fairy Tail will be paying a terrible sum of jewels for collateral damage, but at least the train is in one piece and still running—devil knows how! Natsu stretched his limbs and felt the fire climbing from his lungs. He spat out the cigarette, crushed the smouldering butt against the leather cover of some abandoned shoe, and scoffed. "Come on. I'm itching to catharsis your brains."

Natsu snorted, fire popping in his open palms, as the unspeakable comic book fell dead on the floor from the kid's hands, the opened page revealing the drawing of a woman doing something suitably unutterable. The boy shrieked and tried to use his pointless magic against him, but the dragon slayer barely felt his chubby fists on his back. Useless. "Stop moving. I'll drop you. Or should I let someone else take care of you?" The kid was weak. His powers were faint, almost like someone had actively restrained him from training them.

The brat, a 15-year-old from some elite school in Crocus, had been bawling his eyes out since the very second Gajeel stepped inside the compartment. His shirt stunk from sweating buckets, but Natsu couldn't care less when he grabbed his backpack, using it as leverage to tone down all the flailing around. "I told you to stop shaking like a fucking leaf if you don't want to die!" He felt aggressive-nodding against the small of his back where the brat's head touched, bouncing. Fed up, the man shot a sidelong glare at his partner in crime, who only scratched his skin and tugged the bomber jacket snugly over his shoulders, shrugging. "Deal with it."

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"Target acquired." Natsu gruffed into the microphone as he, the kid and Gajeel vanished in a direct line with Teleportation mage, leaving behind nothing but dust. The fact that nobody else knew about the kid's existence until a few hours ago shows the lengths to which Laxus went to keep it under wraps. But much to his chagrin, the cat's out of the bag. Kidnapping Laxus's son was Doranbolt's strategy, and Fairy Tail wouldn't have done it if the alternatives weren't little to none. No man in their right mind would command to abduct his great-grandson, but Makarov would do it if that would help him shanghai his grandson into an armistice. Turns out the older woman that sat beside him was more of a bodyguard than a babysitter, probably hand-picked by his dad from the whacking range of skills the woman possessed, piling up one over the other into a mountain that took them by surprise. She almost had them on their knees. They survived by a hair's breadth, all thanks to Gajeel's hulk-like iron, counter-attacking until he became the literal metaphor of rage.


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Jellal scrambled past the Charybdis of the support staff, security detail, and specialists: witches, warlocks and the like, split up about the halls in the post-battle kerfuffle. Following Erza's breach of confidence, an intergroup conflict is well underway. He didn't think twice before pushing people out of the way, earning both disgruntled and scared responses. He gathered stares, scandalised exchanges both loud and hush. Here in Fairy Tail, his reputation preceded him for all the wrong reasons. Seigrain. Erza's ex. The list went on, but what was he doing here? Of course. Most folks don't have access to Juvia's personal files. It's not a bad thing. He meandered towards the room where Juvia lay, but a tug on his jacket stopped him. "Please wait outside. Let our healer finish her job."

Gajeel's girlfriend. Gajeel did not work for Fairy Tail. If he did, he probably would've snatched the chance to knock a few teeth off Gray's mouth, regardless of the circumstances. As far as Jellal knew, the Magic Council constantly sought him out. He got to know by chance once he dug into Juvia's private life.

He shrugged her hands off him, resigning to lean against a square arm of the sofa at the end of the corridor. Laxus was obsessed with something akin to the survival of the fittest. He would pit his guildmates against each other to eliminate the weaker ones and cherry-pick the best, yet he would change the laws for his son. He is also a hypocrite in the end. Jellal understands why he might've felt an alliance with Erza was the most natural thing to do.

Fairy Tail had purposefully put a leash on the range of tasks they assigned to Juvia. They could not afford to send her out for long periods because of the knowledge that she could possibly be targeted by Laxus. Fairy Tail tried to build a fence around the well before the child fell in. Yet they couldn't deal with the devil beforehand. She was taken to FT's premises.

Reporters have gathered outside the Fairy Tail headquarters, and the truth about Jellal's wife will be revealed to the world sooner than the couple would've liked. Erza's betrayal had shaken Fairy Tail. Disclosing sensitive information to Laxus and scheming to attack another guild member is not merely a violation of FT's policies. She could be sentenced to a good long while in prison for the crime she perpetrated. What led to her sell-out is shrouded in mystery. Many say she was envious or held a grudge, while some believed Erza reviewed her position after her mother abandoned her. The news that Jellal has married someone else, which was not made public, had somehow reached Irene Belserion's lackeys. As comical as it sounds, Irene wanted her daughter to marry Jellal. Erza was barred from claiming her legacy on account of the enormous fallout. When someone can't meet their end of the deal, that bridge is as good as burned for Irene, who spared no one and loved no one else but herself. And a narcissistic parent, more often than not, raised equally vulnerable children.


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The hospital curtains were a shuffle of light matcha and fern green. The bandages were fresh, the pillows just right. She was tired like hell, but feeling alive overshadowed anything else. It feels unreal. Healers are miracle workers. She hitched up her hospital gown under the blanket to inspect her thighs. She felt around for a scar and found nothing. The instant her breath hitched, she heard a voice from the side of the room. A girl with dark hair gave her a kind smile. Her touch was soft against her shoulder. "You shouldn't be sitting up. Sleep more. It's only been an hour." An hour? "You need proper rest for the healing to complete."

Suddenly, it clicked. "Are you Wendy?" The Sky Dragon Slayer who can heal. She was short and looked cute in her white jumpsuit. There was a white furry cat by her feet. Her ears perked up every time Wendy opened her mouth. Its brown eyes dilated when Wendy stroked. The bell around its neck jangled with the locket on the back, a silver C. It stretched its paws, rolling around and showing its belly to Wendy with a trill.

"Yes." There was that smile again. "You lost so much blood." She closed and opened her hands, twiddling with the sleeves of her clothes. "I can only heal your body." Wendy cannot erase traumas. "Master would probably ask you to take a few weeks off."

"Where am I?" Juvia yawned, easing back on the bed to enjoy the miniature garden in the corner of the room: cathedral plants in ceramic, devil's ivy in glass lanterns. "Fairy Tail?"

"Yep!"

There was a knock from outside. Juvia saw Jellal's blue hair peek into her vision from the doorway. He glanced at her and took a step back, tentative like an ebbing tide. An emotion on her face must've reawakened his assertiveness once he stepped forward again. Against Wendy's worried whine, Juvia sat up straight as her husband marched towards her.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your sleep." Jellal panted. "I.." He said under his breath, sitting near her on the bed. "...couldn't wait to see you." He thought he would never see her again. He rested his forehead against hers, sighing.

Wendy was hesitant to leave the couple alone. She scampered out, not because she thought of respecting their privacy, but because she heard Lisanna calling her.

Jellal brushed her hair away from her face, stroking her right cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." He told her. "I tried to reach you, but I was late." He was taken aback when she pressed her lips to him but acted promptly, closing his eyes to deepen the kiss. He tasted salt and heard a quiet sob.

"I'm glad you came." When he drew back, tears dripped freely. "It's been lonely." The tears made her eyes look like skies where he found his clarity. A phoenix shot through the clouds, dispersing them in a blast of light. The light was blinding, letting him know the storm had passed. He held her close as the salt drenched his shirt and laid near her on the bed, purring sweet nothings in her ear, lullabies that lulled her to sleep. They heard the sound of rain pouring into the night. It took them home in their dreams.


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Gray was about to see Juvia when he heard she was awake, but Levy was getting in the way. "What's your problem?" He glared at her.

"You're the problem. Juvia is with her husband. Let them rest." He had half a mind to say that Jellal did little to nothing. But Levy would refute with something obnoxious like "HIS WIFE was taken hostage and attacked!" He did not want to hear her making a fuss about that. Shaking off the interruption, he pushed her away to steal a quick look inside the room through the framed view window. Dear Mavis, did he regret that! The sight of Juvia nestling her face in the crook of Jellal's neck made Gray want to pound his head against the door and ruin their peaceful sleep. They looked nonchalant in the stretching ease, a cute newly married couple. Very much in love. Happier than him.

When he turned, Levy was sneering at him. "Are you satisfied?" She put her hands on her hips, curling her lips inward. "Erza was your friend." More than. "I thought you'd be worried about her."

"Asking me to sulk alone in my room?"

Levy exhaled forcefully and flashed him an unimpressed look. "All of us are on edge. You're not helping. I'm just asking you to not make this worse by showing your face inside that room. The guild can't handle another racket."

He got a smack on the back of his head. It was Loke. He was decked out in a black short-sleeved shirt, pants and sunglasses. "Guess who's making trouble?" He lowered his shades to wink at Levy, throwing an arm around Gray's shoulder.

Gray coughed mockingly, face screwing when Loke unknowingly pressed down on the stitched cut covered under his clothes. "No one called you."

"And do I need someone to call me?" Loke retaliated, starting a banter between the two. Levy used duck tape solid script to shut them up, internally thanking Loke for his timely interruption. He seemed to know, for his eyes were crinkled in a smile.

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