Author's Note:

I never leave one of these so this must be important!

This is your friendly heads up that this chapter get's a little real. It's graphic and if you are triggered by scenes of rape then I don't recommend reading. I'll put a break so you know when the shit's about to go down so you can skip. If that's something that you don't think you can handle then I suggest maybe skipping the chapter entirely. You will lose a little bit of story but not too terribly much.

Also, while I'm here I want to give a shoutout to all of my people who leave reviews (especially Desna)! You guys keep me going! Thank you so much for your support!

Thanks!

Chapter 39:

Gajeel was sitting in his room alone, his eyes focused on the small, black-bound book sitting on his desk. He regarded it coolly as if it were a snake coiled and waiting for him to get within striking distance. He let out a sigh. He scratched at his palm as nervous sweat made them tingle angrily. This was immensely stupid, feeling this uneasy over a stupid black book.

There wasn't anything inside of it yet, just line after line of emptiness begging to be filled. But he wasn't here to fill it with flowery words or song lyrics or even a novel like Lucy. The edgy feeling in his fingers wasn't from a want to write a song or poem that he could put to the music of his guitar later. No, this strange apprehension was because he was anticipating what his own mind was about to put him through… assuming he got the courage to write it all down.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, eyeing it almost as if he knew it would vanish from the desk if he removed his gaze for too long. Wendy had given it to him as a house warming gift with just some simple instructions on the first page and a pamphlet that he'd wanted to shred as soon as he read the first few words.

"Dealing with Trauma"

She was a sweet girl and worried about him. Hell, who wasn'tworried about him. But maybe Lily had let on too much in the past weeks when he'd been asking for advice on how to deal with Gajeel. She'd looked into a few things involving the case, he knew, although he was sure Charla put a stop to it before she got too deep. So inside on the first page, in the sweetest little girl's handwriting was a note that he could tell she'd thought a great deal about before she wrote it. It was simple, really, but it was the reason he was here glaring down the book. She recommended that he write down his experience, to read it, let himself feel whatever it was that he needed. She had said that sometimes the best way to work through something was to let it all out, and of course that if he needed someone to talk to there were numerous people ready to be there for him, most notably Juvia.

Juvia… he sort of felt bad for avoiding her. She wanted so desperately to be there for him through all this. He knew she felt guilty for not realizing he'd been spiraling so terribly that he'd think of attempting to take his own life. She'd been inconsolable that night and clung to him as if he'd suddenly vanish from her forever if she let him go. Her tears were so sour and had made him feel like an even worse piece of shit than he already did. How could he do that to her? He really was the worst type of person to cause his friends so much grief. It still made his heart hurt remembering the way she begged him not to do it again, knowing all too well they'd been through this before.

He suddenly realized his lips were extremely dry.

He didn't need any help with this. He'd been through worse and he'd never needed help before. He'd had his life threatened, his friends' lives, been beaten until he thought he wouldn't survive, and faced terrifying threats. He'd stared death in the face before and didn't bat an eyelash. He'd seen men killed. He himself was a murderer. He didn't need help getting through this insignificant event in his life.

He wasn't scared.

He wasn't traumatized.

He felt a nagging at the back of his mind and he finally tore his eyes from the black cover to glance over to his dresser. He had hidden a pack of cigarettes there and hadn't really thought a lot about them until now. He hadn't had the itch to smoke since he and Laxus had started running. Actually, he hadn't had the itch to do a lot of things since then... things that were suddenly starting to bubble up.

He itched at his wrist, still staring at the drawer that held his vice. Just a smoke to calm his nerves wouldn't be that much of a sin, would it? It would help take the edge off, maybe make this a little easier. Not that he neededit to be easier because there was nothing difficult about what he was supposed to do. It was simple, easy even. He was just going to write what happened. It didn't have to be long, just a few short paragraphs about when he was kidnapped.

Kidnapped. He'd been… kidnapped.

He was a man. Men didn't get kidnapped. Kidsgot kidnapped. Frail women got kidnapped. Not men who were strong, men who could fight, men who could kill. He wasn't kidnapped… he was too strong. He wasn't helpless. He wasn't weak…

Damn, he really wanted that cigarette. He stood up and paced over towards the drawer and got so far as putting his hand on the knob. He stayed his motion, refused to grip it. There wasn't a reason not to, was there? Just one… one wouldn't be so bad. And then he'd start writing. So why did he feel so guilty, then? Maybe it was because he'd told Laxus he wouldn't touch them again. They destroyed the lungs and attacked the heart, they savagely assaulted the body. They were bad for you but they sedated him when he badly felt he needed it.

Sedated… did he want to be sedated again? If he was sedated he could be controlled. Isn't that the same method shehad employed?

This was different. A cigarette wasn't a tranquilizer or whatever the hell else that had been pumped into his system. It was a vice, like alcohol or gambling. It was a bad habit, one that he had total control over. And if he had total control over it, he didn't need it. So when he told Laxus he wouldn't touch them again he knew he could do it. So why did he keep the extra pack of cigarettes?

Just in case.

Just in case his nightmares got bad again, or he felt like he was a little too on-edge. He didn't keep them in case he felt the need to hurt himself, slowly or by burning his lungs and skin. He'd put that behind him. After all, Juvia had been so upset when she'd found out. He couldn't stand to make her cry like that again. And although he'd said those words more than once, this time he actually meant them. He wasn't going to spiral again. He was better. He had a lot of people who cared about him, who'd miss him if he were gone. So he didn't have room for thoughts of suicide or self-harm.

He stepped away from the dresser but his mind was still racing at the thought of the smell of nicotine, lingering for just a moment too long on the memory of digging hot embers into his skin and the smell of singed flesh. He itched at his wrist, this time maybe a little too hard. His heart was pounding… why was his heart pounding? Why was he getting all worked up? There was no reason to be this way. He was fine. Everything. Was. Fine.

"You're stalling," he rumbled out loud to himself, feeling silly for talking to the air. He looked over at the book on his desk and clicked his teeth. He walked back over to his desk, feeling as if every step took an incalculable amount of time. He sat down, placed his feet flat on the floor, and ripped the cover open. He picked up the pen and placed it on the white, wrote the first few words that came to mind.

It didn't feel real, like a nightmare.

He scowled. Crossed it out. His penmanship wasn't great but hell it had never been thatbad. He looked at his hands and snarled. They were trembling and a slight throb was making his pen twitch in his hand from how hard he was gripping it.

"Useless…" he felt anger boil up in his chest and suddenly shoot down his arm. He threw his pen across the room, listened to it ping off the wall and clatter somewhere on the floor. He ripped himself up from his seat, took both hands and ran them through his raven locks, pulling his hair and digging the tips of his fingers into his scalp until he was sure he might start breaking the skin. In a massive, allaying sigh he brought his hands down his face, let his fingertips press into his neck, chest…

He couldn't write with his hands shaking like that and the more he thought about it the worse he shook. He was going to get angry if he kept this up. He glanced around the floor and found a piece of his pen rolling on the ground. Great. Now he needed a new one. He might even need to run to the store if they didn't have any downstairs. He picked himself up from his seat again and tromped down the stairs.

It was quiet in the house. Lily was spending the day on a mission with Wendy and Charla. Laxus was out getting things together… for theircouple's retreat.

He felt his heart beat a little harder.

They were going to be alone together… for two nights. For a moment, he thought about the night prior. It might have seemed he was being overly cruel to the blonde but in all actuality Gajeel had been testing himself. He'd come home after dropping off Levy, had thought that maybe he'd already be asleep since the lights were off. The sound of the record player must have masked his noise as he came in the front door and he'd taken care on the steps to make as little disturbance as possible. When he'd heard Laxus suddenly go still it had piqued his interest and when he was on the landing how could he have helped it when his blood spiked? It was Laxus's fault for being so careless and loud. He hadn't even noticed when the door had eased open.

When he'd come upstairs and saw Laxus laying there, chest heaving, legs outstretched and tense, there was absolutely no denying how his body felt towards that man. That fucking man… He pressed his hand to his chest as if it would somehow slow it down. He knew it was perverted and creepy as hell but he just couldn't tear his eyes away. Even remembering his figure lying there blissfully allowing himself to give in to the carnal desires he was forced to ignore made Gajeel start to feel his own lascivious warmth creeping up his chest and throat. He had such immaculate skin to touch and taste; white and blemish-less, not covered in scars like his own. He'd never thought of a man that way before… as being beautiful…

Gajeel had never dreamed of picturing himself as gay before. He'd not ever really allowed himself to look at men or think of them that way. At Phantom, all his buddies talked about women, fucked with women, and degraded anything that seemed weak in their eyes as being feminine. You were strong and bloodthirsty and you didn't submit, someone submitted to you. No one had ever said it outright, but quietly men weren't allowed to touch men. Girls on girls were fine because it was hot and every guy wanted to be between them but it was never allowed to be the other way around.

Coming to Fairy Tail was already such a transition. He had thought he was pretty secure in his sexuality. He didn't feel the need to question how he felt towards men. He knew he'd wanted to get with Levy and that he was still sexually attracted to women with low cut tops and skirts that were too short. He didn't catch his eyes lingering on men at the onsen or find himself getting hard whenever Gray would strip. Even when he'd fucked around with Natsu it had always been jumpstarted by their heat and aside from maybe an angry kiss they'd only touched themselves, never each other. Being with Laxus was an entirely new experience in a million different ways. Yes, Laxus had done things to him before but he'd never actually watched it happen. With his eyes closed he could trick himself into thinking it was a woman he was kissing… even the night he was drunk and Laxus had done what he wanted in his old house…

A shiver snaked its way down his spine.

They'd kissed. He'd made salacious gestures at the Lightning Mage when he thought no one was looking. The onsen was… an experience. That was the first time he'd actually touched him. He'd felt sort of like he'd had to after forcing him to stop as abruptly as he had. He was a man, he knew what it was like to be going and then suddenly get cut off. He was worried that maybe he wouldn't like it or it would be too strange and he couldn't actually get him off. But that definitely wasn't what had happened. He'd actually really enjoyed himself. When he'd had themselves in his hand there was no refuting it then, he was definitely with another man… and he had found himself getting lost for the first time since getting back.

For the first time being intimate didn't cause his heart to seize in his chest and his mind to spiral towards Bianca and being tied down to a table. Maybe it was the cold water, but he didn't feel like he was being forced into that unnatural heat. He just wanted to feel good and make his partner feel good.

Laxus. He swallowed. He wanted to make Laxusfeel good.

Gajeel shook his head. He was so lost in his thoughts today. Didn't he have something he needed to do?

He sighed and forced himself to focus on one simple task at a time. He looked around the kitchen and cursed under his breath when he couldn't find anything to write with. He checked the living room and found nothing. How did they move and not have a single damn thing to write with? He huffed. Well, he did need to buy a few more things. He could get that done while he was out. Then he'd come back and write. He'd get it all off his chest so maybe he'd be in a better mindset. It was like meditation: out with the bad and in with the good.

He felt that familiar nagging at the back of his mind, the desire to finally grab that pack of cigarettes itched at him. He could smoke one on the way to the store. Just one to help calm him down and get him in a better mood. He'd do his shopping and be home with a clear mind. That would be fine, right?

He hesitated a moment and then stole himself back up the stairs. He pulled open the drawer and squashed the pang of guilt he felt as he grabbed the box. He flipped it open and pulled out one, a compromise. He wouldn't take the whole pack but he would take one. He dug around for his book of matches and snatched one, telling himself that if for some reason he couldn't light it on the first try then it was the heavens telling him to stop smoking.

He marched back down the steps and headed for the door, his anxious need causing him to go ahead and strike his match as he turned the nob. He pushed the door open with his back and spun around, finally bringing the lit vice to his lips to take a puff. A sudden cry of surprise made him jump back into the door and he bumped into a solid figure. His heart immediately started slamming in his chest and on impulse he dodged out of reach of whoever he'd just walked into. He steadied himself as his eyes focused on Bickslow, still reeled back in alarm from running into him, dark red eyes filled with wild surprise as he watched the raven.

"Shit… you scared me," Gajeel muttered.

"Scared, scared," his floating totems flitted up around their master as if they were checking to see he was ok.

"Perfect timing," he grinned, putting his hand on his hip as he settled, "What's Laxus doing?"

Hearing his name almost made him feel bad for putting the cigarette to his lips and taking a nice, slow dreg. But after running into Bickslow like that he felt he needed the damn thing more than ever… or maybe he was just looking for excuses.

"He's not in," he muttered, "And I was also just leaving."

Bickslow seemed to deflate a little bit, "Ah… well damn. Freed's got company and Ever is… busy…"

"Busy, busy!"

Gajeel could only assume what that meant, but it was pretty obvious he was bored and looking for someone to hang with for the time being. He eyed the navy-haired man. He absolutely hated those fucking totems. They were creepy as hell. Not to mention whenever Bickslow didn't have his helmet on he always seemed to be staring. Gajeel had seen him on more than one occasion getting lost in his own gaze at someone, as if he were trying to see through them. Come to think of it, what kind of magic did he use? Didn't everyone in the Thunder God Tribe have something weird about their eyes?

He sighed, filling the space between them with acrid smelling smoke. He was one of Laxus's friends. If they ended up turning into a couple then he'd better get used to him.

"Eh… I'm going to the store, yer free to tag along if yer that bored," he muttered, taking another hit. Bickslow grinned and that manic look that never left his eyes flared, making him a little uneasy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…

"Where are we going?" he followed him off the porch with a little too much pep in his step.

"I have to buy some pens," he muttered into his hand as he brought the cigarette to his face, "And a few other things…"

"Sounds like a fun time," Bickslow smiled cheekily as his dolls floated overhead, laughing as they flitted around. Gajeel watched him quietly from the corner of his eye as they walked, always uneasy around the strange mage. He just always seemed off; extremely intense even though his mannerisms were that of an easy-going person. His eyes were always so focused in, as if he never just gave partial attention to anything. Every so often he felt those murky burgundy eyes boring into him and it made his skin prickle. It was like he was always in a state of hyperfocus.

"You don't like me much, do you?" his voice cut into Gajeel's thoughts and he widened his eyes in surprise.

"Eh?" he glanced over at him and noticed immediately that his eyes were glowing green. So his magic definitely had something to do with his eyes, then, "What makes ya say that?"

"I can see it," he grinned manically and Gajeel felt his heart jump a few paces, as if he needed to be ready to fight, "I make you nervous."

"You stare a lot," he replied gruffly and flinched when Bickslow started laughing again, much more heartily this time and with less menace. Gajeel glanced at his cigarette wondered in hindsight if he should have just brought the whole pack after all. But then, at the time he'd had no way of knowing Bickslow would be coming with him.

Bickslow smiled wide enough that Gajeel could make out the guildmark on his tongue, "Human Possession lets me see souls. Yours turns a darker color than usual when I'm around."

"I thought there was something weird about you," he muttered, "Darker than usual?"

"You got a lot going on," he was staring again and his eyes were shining severely. Gajeel gritted his teeth, not happy in the least that someone could see through him like that. He smirked, "Don't worry, I don't talk about everything I'd see."

"That's… great…" Gajeel stuffed his hands into his pockets, regretting inviting him along.

They were silent for a while as they walked, Gajeel quietly wondering what it meant that his soul was dark and Bickslow watching him. He wanted to say something to alleviate his worries. Usually souls reflected most prominently the general mood of a person. Seeing souls wasn't like reading minds but it was enlightening. Bickslow had never been good with people. He was too wired, too frenetic. His soul was bright and raging and it stood out from the people around him whose tended to be more reserved. Even during Laxus's wilder days he wasn't quite so hyperactive. When he gazed at Gajeel, though, what he saw was tumultuous in the least. It was like a shaken-up hornet's nest, bristly and angry and dark. He had a lot of negative energy and even more so now that Bickslow had told him about his ability. When Laxus was near it was quite interesting to watch. It was like he was trying to be happy but couldn't entirely convince himself it was ok.

It was… better? No… it was different, he concluded, then how it looked when he'd first joined Fairy Tail. He had expected a wild ride from the ex-villain. He was certain that he'd double-cross them or maybe even try to tear them apart from the inside. It had been an interesting surprise when that wasn't the case. He hadn't thought they'd get much resistance out of the Iron Dragon when the Thunder God Tribe had decided to take down all of Fairy Tail, or maybe he'd even help to an extent. Actually, Gajeel had been quite the wildcard that day and his soul had never been so bright with determination. People finding their purpose was such an amazing thing to watch. Now, though, he was merely a shadow of that person. He'd been beaten down and it was a sour thing to see, but Bickslow hardly knew him so it was sort of out of the question to make mention about it. With Laxus involved, though, he felt a bit of obligation. He made the Thunder God extremely happy to the point his soul visibly changed whenever he was around Gajeel. That wasn't something he saw every day.

One of his babies dipped down to rest on his shoulder, a reassuring gesture. He blinked and turned his gaze away from the brooding Iron Mage. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.

"So… you're doing a better, yeah?" it sounded awkward but it was a start and Gajeel's eyes widened a little bit at his words.

"I guess so," his soul started swarming and he took a deep dreg of his cigarette and settled. Bickslow noticed he was still holding his breath. The white smoke slunk slowly from his nostrils for a few seconds before he finally let it all out. He wrinkled his nose.

"You should open up a little, friend. It's good for you," Gajeel glanced over at him, his eyes looking like some sort of wild cat's.

"No offense but we ain't exactly close," he muttered and Bickslow laughed.

"What do you mean?" he put his arm around Gajeel's shoulders, causing the shorter man to tense up, "You my best friend's boyfriend, you gotta get used to me at some point, yeah?"

Gajeel gritted his teeth and hissed, "We ain't boyfriends… and we're in public."

"Then we can go back to your place, we haven't gone that far," his babies joined in, circling around their heads and laughing.

Gajeel tried to break away from him but Bickslow had him in a strong hold and was already turning around. He shuffled along with him, shoving his arm off and almost eating the rest of his cigarette. He threw the rest of it on the ground and smothered it under his boot, not wanting the smell to be on him in the house. He felt like a raging ball of nerves walking with Bickslow. His eyes were no longer glowing but they were definitely still wild. He didn't want to talk to this guy about what happened. He was such a freak. But when he thought about it a little more rationally he supposed there wasn't many people he was going to talk to about it. He'd already said he didn't tell people about what he saw when he looked at souls and it was apparent that the things he'd seen he hadn't said anything to Laxus about. Maybe he wasn't the worst person to confide in.

Why did everyone insist on trying to get him to talk about what happened? Why couldn't he just bury and let it die? Juvia, Laxus, Lily, Wendy, and now even Bickslow of all people? He didn't needto talk about it. He needed to forget. He just wanted what had happened out of his life. But Bickslow already had him back at home and was rummaging through their fridge for something to drink, reemerging with a couple of bottles from the night before and falling into the couch in a heap, his babies following him. That he definitelycouldn't do. He wasn't going to spill with those things watching him. Gajeel took the bottle he'd held out to him but didn't move, didn't sit down, just sort of stood there… staring.

"Babies," Bickslow must have read his apprehension and made a motion towards the kitchen. They all giggled and fluttered away, whispering to themselves as they went. It made his blood chill a little. They were all actual souls, after all, and he could manipulate them as he pleased. It was intimidating to say the least.

Gajeel stared at him for a moment and tried to work up the courage to start…

He quickly abandoned it, "I need another cigarette."

"No you don't," he grinned, that crazed look in his eyes again, "That shit smells anyway."

"I don't know what you want me to say," for lack of anything better to do, Gajeel slumped into the chair across from him, "This bitch got her hands on me, I killed her, I left. What is there to say?"

"You killed her," his eyes widened, a strange excitement shining up at him, "Shit… and Laxus was there?"

"I… yeah…" his heart shuttered, "He was."

"I'm surprised. Ever since he tried to use Fairy Law he's been real straight-laced about that kind of thing,"

"He didn't…" he felt like his hands were getting warm and he tugged at his gloves. His palms were sweating, "He was bleeding out. There wasn't a lot he could do about it."

His eyes widened even further, the excitement suddenly receding. He looked like some of the guys he used to know at Phantom, the type that got their hands on someone and lost it. He was sure that Laxus wouldn't have someone like that as part of his team, though. Someone who blacked out and caused damage like that usually didn't work well in groups, especially one where their leader had a strict set of values.

"She must have been a pretty bad person,"

"She had it coming," he felt a pang of rage suddenly strike in his chest. Bickslow raised and eyebrow at him and it looked like the symbol in the middle of his face was waving.

"What'd she do?" he prodded him gently, stoking the fire that would get him to talk. Gajeel didn't even really notice it. He was already starting to remember and it made his fists start to shake.

"She kidnaps kids and sells them to the highest bidder,"

"Why did she want you?" Bickslow had an intense look on his face again and his eyes were locked with Gajeel's. His eyes were starting to glow green again and he suddenly felt like he was being pinned down by his gaze. His heart started beating faster. Was he… using magic?

"I…" he felt compelled to answer. It wasn't something he'd ever talked to anyone about that wasn't another Dragon Slayer or Juvia. He hesitated but Bickslow's eyes were boring into him, rooting him in his chair. He swallowed audibly, "I have venom… that she wanted to use to make a drug…"

"A drug?" he leaned back into the sofa. He was a massive man, probably even taller than Laxus. With his legs outstretched he looked like he took up half of the couch. If they were chest to chest he'd probably tower over Gajeel by almost a head, "Was she able to make it?"

"No… it degrades when exposed to oxygen," he'd heard one of the doctors saying that to Bianca during one of the few instances he was coherent. It was why she had been so angry and why she needed him to bite someone, so it could mix with the blood and she could draw it out that way.

"What are you so afraid of?" Bickslow's words were like commands, anchoring him down into his chair. He felt like he was becoming stone where he sat, unable to move except when Bickslow asked him a question. His heart was racing and he could feel his hands starting to tremble.

"I'm not…" Bickslow's eyes glowed more intensely and he felt the words suddenly tumble from his lips, "I can't be that weak again..."

"Did she make you weak?"

"I… no… yes…" he was getting confused. What kind of question was that? How was he supposed to answer?

"What did she do to you?"

He felt like he'd just been sealed into a coffin. He had to say it, didn't he? With those glowing green eyes tearing a hole through his chest he had to say it all out loud? He felt dread suddenly settle in his gut as he was made to remember. He dug his nails into the arms of his chair and tried to slow his erratic breathing. Was he starting to have a panic attack?

It was such a visceral image, still alive and real in his mind. He was shaking, his body and mind trapped in the dark. He could hear someone yelling in the next room over. It was a kid and they were calling for help, to be let out, they couldn't do what was expected of them. He heard the clamor of someone in the room, his ears so much more sensitive when he wasn't allowed to see. They were walking towards him and he couldn't move, their heels were clicking against the floor. It was her. It had to be. He couldn't smell her and he couldn't see her but he just knew. Her voice was like dark velvet in his ear and he felt her hands, light and lithe, sliding up the bare skin of his thigh.

"I'll give you a chance to let out all of your pent-up hatred for me," something wet glided across his neck and he let out a gasp, "I'll let you bite me…"

God, he was so hot. He was going to suffocate. He couldn't move, couldn't even try. They'd given him something but the sedative had worn off. He was just stuck motionless as her hands snaked their way across his body. He felt sick. Why was she touching him? Why couldn't she just leave him alone? She had taken off whatever was keeping him blindfolded and the glaring white light made him dizzy. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out some of the offensive white. She gripped him and he felt the heat in his body screaming for his instincts to take action.

"Don't fucking touch me," the words had to be forced out of him, it was so difficult to move his lips. Fire was burning him alive and she grinned at him as she worked him, a smug expression in her eyes whenever he couldn't hold back his strangled moan.

"Didn't I tell you we had ways of breaking people here?" her voice was low and menacing and it made his stomach sink, "Do you think you're better because you're a man? Do you think that a sweet, loving woman couldn't do something like this to you?"

He wanted to lash out at her but his arms still wouldn't move. His mind was swimming. Why? Why did his body have to react like this? Why was he still in heat? He couldn't move, couldn't stop her. He was helpless; tethered down like some sort of lunatic at the operating table. Why? WHY? WHY WAS HE SO USELESS?

"Miss Bianca…" the voice was distant, "We need to administer the dose."

Maybe she didn't hear them or maybe she didn't care. Her eyes were locked with his and she didn't stop what she was doing. In his mind he begged her to just let him go already. Didn't she hear her lacky? They needed to drug him again… please just go ahead and drag him forcibly from this hellish nightmare…

"When will you understand, Dragon Slayer," she smiled like a snake, all sharp teeth and black tongue, "I can do whatever I want to you. I can make you beg like the desperate little boy. I can make you want this, make you moan and cry like the bitch in heat that you are…"

His body was starting to shudder and it made him want to vomit. He'd never hated his body so much in his life. He didn't want this, dammit! He didn't enjoy this! He clenched his fists. He didn't want this… He didn't…

"I'll let you cum as long as you bite me," she was so close but he refused to open his eyes and see her. He could taste the venom in his mouth. It was sour on the tongue and slipped like blood down his esophagus. It was instinctual, another part of his body reacting to what was happening. He caught a whine in his throat when he felt her hand at his neck, trying to coax his mouth open and make it all the easier for him to lose his grip on himself.

But he couldn't. He wouldn't. He may not have control over all of his body but he knew to keep his mouth clamped shut. He couldn't allow her what she wanted no matter how much his body was telling him he needed to. If he did, what had happened to Juvia, what had happened to him, would happen to whoever she could get her hands on. He couldn't be the engine that powered her machine. No… not ever.

Gajeel suddenly felt something familiar itching at him, something quiet that he'd kept locked up for a long, long time. He would be whatever he needed to be to make sure she didn't have her way. It didn't matter to him what that meant. Actually, he changed his mind. He wanted to let this happen; wanted her to stoke the flame of hate that was boiling him alive. The heat wasn't just for lust, it was also for rage.

He forced his eyes open and glared at her. She didn't look like a snake any more, but a woman. No, not a woman, a person. A person he could kill. A person he wanted to kill.

If he could clench his fists, then he could move. If he could move, he could break out of the cloth straps they had him tethered down with. With everything he could muster he snapped free. Alarm filled her eyes and he lashed out and grabbed her arm, pulling her down and slamming her against the table. She pulled as hard as she could from him and screamed in pain from his harsh grasp. He heard the clamor of reaction, people were coming to stop him from hurting her. There wasn't much he could do but he could make a point.

He dragged her down to his level, his arms shaking and fiery hatred making him wish his other arm was free, "Tell me to bite ya again…" he growled and saw a touch of terror in her eyes, "…and I'm going to rip yer throat out,"

She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn't release her. He felt the pain in his arm from a needle but he still didn't move. She was flailing her free arm wildly, searching for something. He felt the pain lance through his thigh and sear down his leg. He'd screamed but not much had been able to come out, his voice was already mostly spent. There was rushing around the white room and Bianca was screaming.

"You think you can try and threaten me?! Do you think you're not disposable like everyone else here?!"

He didn't really remember much after that, just that finally his skin wasn't on fire anymore. Maybe that was because the warmth was seeping from his body onto the table, dripping on the floor… He remembered thinking that he was so ready to die… He wondered what Laxus would think of him when he found out.

He was shaking in his seat, his eyes unfocused and his face wet. Was he crying? Had he been crying? There were hands on his shoulders and he didn't feel like stone anymore but he didn't trust himself to move. Maroon eyes were locking him in place and he was trying to recognize the man who was standing in front of him.

"Let it go, man, you're alright,"

"What… did… what did you do to me?" Gajeel raged but the violent shaking in his limbs stopped him from lashing out.

"I just got you talking," he replied softly, smoothly, like he was talking to a wild animal, "That's all."

"You… I…" his breathing was slowly starting to calm down, the adrenaline subsiding, "That was hell."

"Yeah… but it needed to happen," Bickslow's voice didn't waver and he had a soft, easy look in his eyes, "You got it out of your system… good job."

"You're patronizing me," he growled and Bickslow just slowly shook his head.

"It sucks, but you have to feel this way," he never moved his hands from Gajeel's shoulders, "Are you scared?"

"No… I'm pissed!" he still couldn't move and he was suddenly aware of the green glow that was back in his eyes, "Don't do that to me again!"

"Calm down, I'm helping you," he finally let go of his shoulders and squatted down in front of him. He was so tall that even down like that he wasn't so much shorter than Gajeel in the chair, "You're not helpless, right? You're talking to me. You can tell me to stop."

"You won't listen," Gajeel stated hotly and Bickslow just grinned.

"You weren't helpless on the table, right?"

"What?" he eyed him suspiciously, "Of course I was… didn't you listen to what I…?"

"But you got out, right? You got angry enough to get free," he was still so calm, leveling with Gajeel in a simple, logical way, "And if you wanted, you can get angry enough and make me stop… but you're not, because you need to work through this, right?"

"Bickslow… I swear to Mavis herself…"

"You don't need to bring her into this," his smile lost a little of its edge as he focused on his magic again, "So, now what are we afraid of? We're not helpless anymore, so what else is making you upset?"

Gajeel felt violated but what was he supposed to do?

"I… I don't want to go into heat again…" he was turning to stone again, his veins were icing over, "Because… if it happens again…"

"It's a cycle, right?" he explained simply, "It's not something to be feared… it's natural… for you anyway."

Gajeel felt like his chest was heavy. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, he didn't want to feel. He neededthis? He felt like he was going to die…

"What does it feel like?" Bickslow's grin finally vanished, "Describe it to me."

"I… I don't…" those eyes were piercing through him, driving him to speak. It was so intense, he wanted it to just end already, "It's… it's hot… and it feels like your skin is crawling…"

He could feel his skin starting to prickle. It started at his knees and travelled like a microscopic army up his legs, his navel, and chest. A shiver was trying to work its way down his spine. He felt warm, like the room was suddenly one hundred degrees.

"Bickslow… stop it!" he snapped, his heart was racing in his ribcage and his breathing starting to become erratic.

"I'm not doing anything," he didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He was completely and agitating tranquil, "What you're feeling isn't real."

"I know that!" he growled, "But that doesn't mean it's not there!"

"But it's not what you think it is. Your adrenaline is pumping because you're working yourself up," it was immensely annoying how easy he was explaining this to him. Gajeel wanted to punch him, "Center yourself. You're not in heat. You're not helpless. You're not weak. You're at home, sitting in your chair, hanging out with one of your boyfriend's friends."

"He's not my boyfriend," Gajeel hissed. He was calming down; the feeling was passing. It was just his adrenaline, after all. He was fine and there was nothing worth freaking out about. He was fine. He was actuallyfine.

"Your unofficial boyfriend," Bickslow rolled his eyes and it broke the connection. Finally completely free of Bickslow's manipulative gaze, he brought his hand around and with as much force as he could he punched him in the face. He clattered to the ground in a heap, clutching his nose as blood gushed from his fingers. Gajeel stood, extremely fed up and extremely tired, but also more at peace than he'd felt in ages. Despite himself, he reached a hand down to the navy-haired mage.

"Feel better?" he muttered through the blood that was trickling down his chin.

Gajeel smirked at him, not afraid to show his teeth to the most infuriating member of the Thunder God Tribe, "Immensely."