He was staring at me with a searing gaze which were clouded with depression, something akin to regret and trembling in showcase of his fear. His cheek was still stinging red so bright and obvious it would be an impossibility to ignore by any passerby. Yet, in walking through calm streets right beside the man, no one took to looking twice at the sight of its blemish, not a concerned glance, not a raised brow, nor a smirk of amusement. I walked at his same pace not truly heeding any attention, for we were only following normal routine and I saw nothing peculiar or odd in my father's injury, it stood as normal to me. Grandfather certainly made no comment, he'd bid a curious glance, but said nothing as everyone else in the hall. We were travelling home, I having spent the last week with the old man as I frequently did for several years now. Ten years old and joyful, walking alongside my father, excited to see my mother for the first time in months, she was always busy taking jobs, and as I understood it- rarely in Magnolia.

Walking into the house I was swept swiftly into her arms, encompassing my entire form because she was huge. Her hands roamed about taking me in and when she pulled away her giant hands cupped my cheeks in the way I detested, pushing them together and making me appear far younger then I was. I protested, but it sounded ridiculous as I could not properly form words, she'd giggled at the attempt then pressed a forceful kiss to my cheek adding on a large smacking sound. Before she stood back tall and bending her head all the way down just to look at me as I had to tilt my head all the way back to see her face. I know she was smiling largely -though with the recollection it does not appear as a smile- I'd smiled at her as large as I could, as she put her hand to my head then just above her thigh which was my height.

"Ohh~ someone's getting big huh?" I'd jumped up and down at the comment, proud to be getting taller, barely acknowledging Polyusca's words from years ago. Ivan had slipped around us both and was sitting on the sofa sipping on a beer I hadn't seen him take out. His head was bowed, and though it was usually spiked upwards his hair was falling down in a ragid state as he stared down at the wood of the coffee table. I could not see his expression because he was slouched over with his elbows on his knees. Mother ignored the sight completely and put her hand behind my head staring me down the hall as she normally did when we got the chance to see each other again. I could hear my father's breath hitch across from us, and it drew my attention- the expression one of such guilt frothing with fear both shown with the tears continuously flowing down his cheeks. At the time however, I had not bid to question it not properly, I had only wondered why my father would be crying at anything; that is before his head turned back to the table, and a shaking hand touched his red cheek. "Laxus sweetie, don't worry your father is just fine." Looking far up to her I nodded in comprehension.

"Did he do something?" I knew the rules that dominated our house after all, and if my father was hurt then it meant he had done something he shouldn't have. I knew mother was strict with her rules, and I'd never questioned them. Because I had been 'good,' and I rarely got into trouble with her. Still, the red mark to me was a normal sight, so I could not understand why he would suddenly be crying because of it when he hadn't previously.

"Yes. But thats not important really." Her voice deepened slightly there, but it was nothing unusual, she did that often when speaking of her husband.

"No I fucking didn't." I whipped my head to look at Ivan. His hands were in fists and he was shaking, his tears fresh on his face but so was the mighty scowl he wore. Glaring fierce at my mother, whom was still as a rock with his words.

Her tone was just as hard. "Excuse me?" Forceful, but it was bit out of her mouth as a hiss, on instinct I'd backed away, she was tensed and all of her vigorous muscles were on prominent display. She stepped forward, sound echoing in the room with a resoundment of force, accompanying perfectly her words and daunting in indication. "You. You attempted to keep my son from me." It was not a yell but it was near one, and frantically I'd looked in between them confused by her declaration, yet afraid by the atmosphere that was congealing. "Always at his fucking grandfather's whenever I come back? Weeks at a time! HOW DARE YOU!"A yell, a scream, tore out of her and her foot stomped again when she leaned towards him. Then, with one motion I had hardly seen, I heard a large 'crack' against the silence. Watched as my father fell back onto the floor clutching at his face whimpering in pain as he cradled both his nose and jaw. Mother's fist was pulled back, clear droplets of blood on the top of her knuckles her enormous chest heaving up and down with ragged breaths. Though, I am convinced it was not from effort but rather her retained anger. I was watching, trembling as her foot lifted up and kicked him right in the side and invoked a slight grunt, slight scream, from his mouth. "HE'S MINE, MINE-" She kept going, and my back hit the wall, my hands pressed flat against it as I attempted to go through the wood and run from the sight. "MINE, MINE MINE, MINEMINEMINEMINEMINE-" She screamed, and it filled the air as she kicked Ivan -whom was hardly gasping air,- away from her.

Then she turned back to me, I know my eyes must have been blown wide and perhaps I had been whimpering in fright of her, as my nails dug into the wall and I pressed further back. But she straightened her dress and gave me a simper, pretending that I was not terrified as she walked closer, each of her footfalls too loud unto my ears. I had glanced at the door, hopeful of escape, but she must have seen, because the next thing I felt was her forceful hand grabbing my chin and turning me to look directly at her as she toward tall- not even bothering to bend down.

"Sweetie?" I had screamed, loudly, because I was convinced she was not my mother. I could hardly see it, but I know she frowned, before I was suddenly collapsed on the ground, crying because my cheek began to sting, burn, and my knees had hit hard in the fall. "No, Laxus, now come on-" I wiggled a little, but my fright took over as she roughly forced me to my feet holding my arm and yanking me forward. I'd stumbled with each step, I know that tears were on my cheeks, they hurt to the hand imprint on my skin. "Now, come on my love, we're going to go calm down, just like always okay?" There was anger blunting her voice, but her tone was being pitched higher to sound gentle. I knew what she meant of course, it was normal, it was routine every time I saw her, but I had never cared, after all I had been eight when everything started.

However, with her hand digging into my flesh, grip harboring the feeling that my bone would pop out from pressure or break. My legs didn't like the movement as my feet kept scrambling to get a foothold while walking, and instead were being dragged back behind me as if useless. Indeed, at that moment my entire body was filled with a bomb of adreniline, but I could use none of it with the overwheming encompassment of fear shattering every rebellious thought I might conjure. I had a want to run, in any direction at full speed, but the desire was fruitless against her strength. I was tossed, literally, the muscle in my arm ached as she picked me up and threw me onto the mattress. It was a brief moment of freedom which I had a second to think on if I could manage escape, but she was already moving towards me. Her dress falling down to reveal her white undergarments- white and lace, delicate, as if she could ever be viewed as such. Already, her eyes had fogged over, half-lidded and she had begun panting slightly as she crawled up onto the bed.

Candidly; I thought that nothing was wrong, I had no idea why her actions were disgusting. It had been commonplace for her to run her hands down my chest- even at eight years old -younger if I remember correctly- to kiss me a peck on the lips then everywhere else she could touch. It was normal to me for her to cup me through my underwear, normal for her mouth to touch places it shouldn't have. However, where it was common, that did not mean I had any enjoyment in the actions, often I did not want her to do anything and I'd slip away even cringe at her touches, though I had still been completely naive of what was truly happening.

Then, as she was peeling off my shirt and stroking me downwards, I had been disgusted, bile had crawled its way up my throat and vomit had come quick after, over the sheets- though I cannot be certain if that was because I had just watched my father been beaten down or simply the fact that I had no want to be near the perpetrator. She pressed far more then necessary down on my chest as it heaved, but still she continued what she was doing without a comment made, my pants being next. "God, my little man, you're so perfect… every part, every crevice, every muscle…" she moaned then, I only remember because now I find it so disturbing as a sound, one that rang in my ears dauntingly back then, and continues to ring in my ears now as a malicious taunt. I had opened my mouth to scream, fright took hold and I saw myself with no further options, maybe in some fashion my body had been pleading her for sympathy because I know I cried with hiccuping sobs. Completely silent, and dazzling myself out of the experience by keeping my eyes fixated on the corner of the room where the ceiling met the wall. I do not remember anything as she continued.

Perhaps an hour later, I was still outside of my body not looking at the woman currently playing with herself, my mind was adrift was somewhat comfortable with the fact. I harboured no want to return to physicality if it meant comprehending what was occuring, my limbs had gone numb laying motionless and my eyes felt dry. In my ears was the ever repeating sound of her moan breaking through her panting gasps. Then there was a large sound, an explosion I knew- but I kept myself away from acknowledging it, because she was still hovering over and I did not want to move with her presence. I know only from vague recollection, the corner of my vision capturing the sights: The wall was blown through, blasted with a powerful fist that I had mildly recognized, many voices had filled the room all shouting, all furious, but they all quieted because a large amassment of magic was suddenly within the room- so much that it was visible only as a light and even motionless I as I breathed it was thick enough to register. The ceiling was far more interesting to me at the time, but the shouts of panic were very loud, and just as it arrived the magic disappeared, with its vacatement however was an enraged, terrifying scream- shrill shriek as the shadowed sight of my mother was grasped by nye a dozen white clad wizards.

A gentle stroke to my head was what I felt next, but it was from too small an appendage to be my mother's. "Oh my boy, what did she do to you?" I recognized the grate of the voice as my grandfather, but I took to falling asleep with the knowledge that she was no longer above me- safe with my grandfather. My ears still picked up the plentiful screaming of my mother and the White Knights in the room- over ten of them in my minds eye. She was shrieking loud, but her words were mostly curses.


My eyes were glued shut with the crust of tears next I awoke. Feeling weighted with my muscles aching when I moved them in any direction, there was a murmur in my ears as I lay still. Already I was irritated with the situation, simply wanting to move about and get out of whatever bed I was in, the window said it was clear and sunny out. But the area around the glass was too familiar ignore, and it took little concentration to understand that I was once again in Polyusca's hut, I'd squirmed in discomfort for the revelation while a pang of worry filled my gut. Therein, I decided to pick apart the murmuring fluctuating in my ears -my hearing had gotten a lot better after surgery.-

"I'm assuming so." Came a grizzled voice with little emotion and a lot of hidden bite.

"Then it shouldn't have effected him at all!" A rasped voice with an angry undertone.

"Don't be an idiot! We've only established that Angel Magic is genetic, thats it- Laxanna has it yes, but! We know nothing of how she controls it. That is, if she does at all, I don't know if you noticed Makarov but the woman is completely insane! Not that I'm shocked, she's seven-foot-three and even when I first met her she was extensively deluded. My guess is, that she has no idea how to control it at all and it is simply killing her." There were large sighs from both sides, and then silence. Nothing further said before the door was opened and both adults walked in with broken expressions casting far too many shadows over their faces. I'd sat myself up to watch them enter, and seeing them both staring at the floor with slumped shoulders and dragging steps had made me wish I'd continued laying down.

Gramps was the one to notice me first this time, and his express uplifted a smile curving his mustache up and crinkling the lines at his eyes, but his eyes stayed placid. "Laxus, how are you feeling?" I gave no answer, I didn't have one that would ease his false smile, and I had no want to lie, I found my lips lined and shut tight.

"Is dad okay?" I had forced myself to ask in return, because as I had last seen he could have been sprawled dead in our living room. Clearly unhappy with my response he made the same expression as I, yet he only sighed.

"He's being treated in the hospital, but he'll be alright. Your mother-" I flinched, I had no baring on my actions, but I was newly made afraid of her and understanding the same woman who had attacked me and my father- as the woman who had made me a special birthday cake each year, did not properly register in my mind. He tripped over his words and stumbled in watching me, his eyes glittered with tears that did not fall. "-Laxanna hit him rather hard, but its nothing irreversible. She's being taken away, I don't know where." Terror still spiked my system at the thought of her coming to see me, he made no bid to elaborate further, even though it was obvious he was hiding behind a lie.