Chapter 83:
"Calm down."
The words were in an even, steady tone and it ricocheted off his synapses. Everywhere. It was inside his head. Gajeel's body calmed down by a sheer force of will that wasn't his own and it was like the tortured unwinding of a music box as its spring uncoils, but instead of music playing it was the panic flushing through his bones. His blood was cooling, his mind fraying, fuzzying. The hot haze was burning out as quickly just as it surged, which was dizzying because his mind was notcalming down. If anything, it was getting worse.
"Get outta my head,"he seethed but he was leaning heavily on Laxus now.
He could feel the sensation of Davian, the presence of him, and it was smoke clogging his throat and nose. It was pervasive and strange and he hatedit, he hated that his body was being controlled, that he was being forced into submission. So, his mind buzzed and wrenched along with his body, away, away.He just wanted that touch off of him, that control gone, he would never be controlled again, never, never again. Davian said something but he didn't hear it because his mind was a mess of calm downand stop touching me and I'm fine, I'm fineand look at your weakness you can't even hold it in anymore, can you?
He twisted his body violently. First free of Davian and then Laxus, and it was when he stumbled back from the sudden loss of balance that the world turned the brilliant and blinding colors of dread and panic. Because as he stumbled back, Davian reached forward and grabbed his wrist. He felt a sensation similar to his heart clawing its way up his throat and the world skewed, tilted, shifted. Gajeel froze as suddenly he felt like himself and his body where two very different things, that himand nowdidn't exist; the color drained from the world and he was just a grey spectator. Distant. He was distant. Shape and sound was really the only thing he could recognize, but he couldn't grasp the jumbled mess of it, like a puzzle dropped onto the floor and spreading the semblance of an image onto the tile. Pieces of it slipped through his fingers and he couldn't find enough motivation to try and grip onto the fragments.
Davian went rigid and Laxus only had a moment to realize that something was very, very wrong. As Gajeel's thoughts were tumbling and knotting like a dropped spool of copper wire and tangled until there was no way he'd ever be able to realign them again, Davian had recoiled like a viper that had never intended to sting. The response was jarringly familiar, but not in the way he'd ever thought he'd experience again.
Kurogane was there, in the living room, staring down a man who he couldn't recognize with a detachment prosaic and familiar. It was something about the alarm in that face that made the decision for him, because there had to be no other explanation for Gajeel to feel this way, in all-embracing and dreadful discordance. Jose must have given him a target, and for whatever reason, he felt like he was panicking. Adrenaline stampeded behind his ears and he couldn't understand why his scales were up. You know better than to use magic here. That's how they track you. His entire body uncoiled and something like relief passed through the entirely too small space when his magic dropped, and to Kurogane, the quiet was unbearable. In one languid movement, he spun and put the entire force of his body into his fist that incited colors harsh and ragged, like the vibrato of a trombone tearing into the washed-out expanse before him.
Ahhh, he rememberedthis chaos, this familiar nothing-right-the-world feeling, and it was strangely calming. This was something he knew,and if he knew it he could handle it, control it, and set it right. Knuckles on skin, he felt the sound in his chest like an added heartbeat. His target stumbled back just as ruby eyes swept to the weapon at his hip, and he realized distantly, in the back of his mind, that he didn't have his knife. Actually, he hadn't had his knife for a long time. In fact, he'd put up... somewhere... why?
He supposed it didn't really matter. His target needed disarmed and Kurogane needed a weapon. He surged forward and grabbed hold of it. It was a gaudy thing, all shivering gold and with a smooth, black hilt. He could smell the leather, strips of the flesh of something dyed and tied around the handle. It was light beneath his fingers. Gold didn't make a good blade; it was too soft of a metal and nicked far too easily when it hit bone. But it was serrated so it would do the job just fine so long as he missed the sternum and ribs. He made a slash but the bastard was fast, suddenly four inches farther back than he would have thought. So Kurogane knew if he wanted this to be fast, he had to catch him off his feet. He rushed forward a second time, knife poised, but a wave of magic swept over him and everyalarm bell in his entire body was blaring in response. He dashed back as a man stepped in, blonde hair, and sparks dashing from his fingertips.
"Gajeel, what the hell?" he demanded almost calmly, something strange and twisted in his voice. The matted wires of his brain resonated for just a second, trying to straighten, to be combed smooth. But his target moved at just the wrong time and his window for opportunity was closing. When the blonde reached for him, he maneuvered himself deftly from those strong hands. He caught copper skin at the forearm and twisted so he bent back, a hiss sounding in his throat as Kurogane brought the knife down. He was stopped inches away, a pale arm locked with his own, and his eyes widened.
"Gajeel," again, calm. Again, using hisname like it was nothing, like he knew him, "What are you doing?"
Something close to terror zinged through his chest and it was painful. He felt like his heart had stopped, his veins quickly flooding with ice. When he wrenched backwards, that arm wrapped around his and pulled him close, locking his against a strong and hulking body. That familiar magical aura expanded and he could suffocate in it, the static, the mute thunder, could taste it filling his mouth. Golden eyes were staring down into him and he felt like he was being ripped apart, color injected where it previously had faded to nothing but grey. It was a brilliant and fiery yellow, snapping and fizzling the air like snakes or hot oil.
Laxus.
"You feel very far away, Gajeel."
Kurogane shuddered, his throat closed, he squeezed his eyes shut. Laxus's arm was holding tightly to his bicep, just as much holding him still as he was keeping him from suddenly crashing to his knees. Slowly, a pale hand reached out and rested at the nape of his neck. Laxus took in a hesitant breath. A cord turned gold, as if his touch was enough to change its elements, and pulled taut. He tugged gently and Gajeel's mind was like a skein of yarn that Laxus had just found the start to. If he held that end and walked, he'd be slowly unraveled without a single snag.
"Get outta my head," he didn't know why he said it, he just said it. He'd said it before, he knew, but the reason why seemed as in the distant past as he was, "Get out-..."
"You taught me how to do this, remember?" the air thrummed with magic. His hair was standing on end with it, his chest vibrated, "Gajeel..." why did he say the name like it was a good thing? Why did he care? His voice was warm, thin, "The knife... freaks me out. Can you drop it? Please?"
No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't. No, I can't...
He was shaking, his handswere shaking. He dropped the knife and when it hit the ground everything in him begged him to get free, to get it back. He needed it, didn't he? He needed to protect himself. He needed to eliminate the threat in the room. The threat, more than anything, he needed to rid himself of it. He needed it ended, gone, done. He couldn't stop now, could he? He couldn't drop the knife? Whyhad he dropped the knife? He felt his throat closing, he grabbed the arm in front of him like he was going to pull himself free...
"Even in war, you need some place to rest," it reverberated through him again, forcing his feet to the ground, his throat once again open. Like a gentle hum, or a purr, something he could do nothing but be eased by. The next time he spoke, he sounded almost as raw as Kurogane felt, "I am your ally, I am your friend. I'll help you... any way that I can..."
He was shaking so much now, sinking back to reality. He sort of liked the schism better, being separate from all of this like it wasn't actually real. Coming back was like waking up in the dark with his wrists tied down again, like thrashing against bonds you couldn't be free of while someone ran their hands over the intimate places you desperately didn't want touched. Being used, but not in a way you were familiar with, because you thought somethings were sacred but were so totally and utterly wrong.Nothing is sacred in a world so ugly.
"Gajeel, please..." Laxus's voice had an edge to it Gajeel wasn't familiar with, like he was having a hard time holding it together, and it was frightening. He needed to pull himself together, he needed to stand up straight, to be strong again, but all he seemed able to do was just stand there with his eyes squeezed shut and his everythingshaking, "It's ok if you can't find the words..."
"I'm sorry..." he forced it through his teeth and he felt Laxus's grip on his bicep get tighter, "I'm... I'm sorry..."
"Don't be. Don't be sorry. It's our fault. We shouldn't have pushed you..."
I should have been fine. I should have been able to handle it. Why can't I handle it? Why can't I get over it? Why...?
"It was your wrist, wasn't it? I know what it reminds you of..."
He grabbed my wrist. All he did was grab my wrist. Why can't I just handle someone grabbing my wrist? Why does it have to take me back there? Why am I so weak? Why...?
"Gajeel..." Laxus's voice was small, again, like a child's, and thin like a twig easily snapped between fingers, "...whatever you're doing to yourself, please stop. You're hurting and... Gajeel, it wasn't your fault. Not everything is your fault. Let me... let me share the weight on your shoulders. You don't have to be alone."
"It's not... it's nothing..."
"Stop telling me it's nothing. Sto telling yourselfit's nothing," the sound was equal parts strong and quiet, unmoving and gentle; it was something he wasn't allowed to argue with. He didn't even know if he could, "It wasn't nothing. It never was nothing. It was terrible. It was torture. Gajeel, you're allowed to have scars from what happened to you."
Gajeel felt like he was going to cry, drop to the floor and buckle over from the agony ripping apart his chest like it was rice paper. If it weren't for Laxus still holding him he was sure he'd be sinking. There he was, still shining, how did he still shine?
"You never have to apologize because your wounds ache when they're not taken care of. It just means they need to be taken care of... and sometimes that takes effort and time."
The arm keeping his clamped down let him go and instead large hands were holding him at his elbows. But now they were both disarmed, no longer on the defense, just open and bleeding like a death sentence. Laxus didn't hold him like he was dangerous, like he was a criminal, like if he'd let him go he'd slaughter everyone in the room. He held him like he was just trying to keep him from drowning, like letting him go would mean he'd drift away and he desperately didn't want that to happen. His magic still thrived like it was living, the strongest thing Gajeel had ever known, whispering that it was ok. Is it really ok?
"I'm still learning, too, remember? I don't know the best things to do yet, so you have to tell me what you need. I know that's hard for you, because you never need help. You'll have to be brave and... and strong. Show me that… you can still tear down your walls…"
I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.
"How long…" his voice sounded as rough as he felt and his throat knotted, "…how long… I can't stand it…"
"How long…?"
"How long will I be like this? I'm trying… I'm trying to be… I'm trying so hard…"
"As long as it takes," Laxus slipped one of his hands free and ran it across his jaw, cupping the side of his face. Gajeel gritted his teeth because he didn't want to open his eyes and look at him. He knew as soon as he did, that would be it. But Laxus had no idea, especially not when he brushed his thumb across his cheek, "I'll wait."
Just one tear had escaped and suddenly Gajeel shattered. He swore and buried his face into Laxus's chest. Laxus wrapped his arms around his shoulders and held him tightly, back straight, magic still ebbing and flowing as gently as calm waters. Gajeel felt terribly small and fragile and he hatedit.
"You'll wait... you'll fuckingwait..."
"I said I would, didn't I?" he murmured into his hair gently, "And I will. As long as you need me to."
As long as you need me to. But Gajeel didn't think he could do this any longer. He had enough to worry about, didn't he? Why did he alsohave to be ruined on top of it? Violated. Defiled. Marred. Torn down. Devastated. Fucked up. Why didn't his mind work right? Or his body? Why was he like this?Why couldn't he change? Why couldn't he be better? He'd been destined for failure from the start, hadn't he? Being raised by one beast and then another? Now he was losing grip on reality on top of everything else. Couldn't control himself in heat, can't control himself now. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't.
"Gajeel..." Laxus sounded startled, "Please talk to me. Please."
Talk? Can't you feel it?
"I just want to keep you safe. Why can't I do that?"
"Gajeel…"
"I'd walk through hell for you? I'd never… I'd never… I'd never hurt you..."
"I know."
"I'm sorry…"
"Gajeel… you…" Laxus hesitated, held him a little tighter, "You… you're forgiven."
If it wasn't enough that Laxus was holding him like he was scared he'd disappear, if it wasn't enough that he spoke in the most sincere and pained tone Gajeel had ever heard, if it wasn't enough that Gajeel was still emotional and broken and weak, that did it. He slipped down and Laxus fumbled to stay with him, to keep him in his arms, until they were both sitting on the floor and Gajeel was staring at the ground with trepidation clawing through his ribcage. He could hear the quiet patter of his tears as they hit the floor and he hated it, hated them, hated himself, hated everything, except for Laxus. Impulsive and implosive as Gajeel was, miserable and scared and hopelessly unable to comprehend why Laxus was still there dealing with this when he could just walk outside and let him fade quietly on his own, he said the phrase out loud before he could even think about stopping it, and regretted it as soon as he heard them spoil the air.
"I'd die for you."
Laxus's breath caught and for one of the most horrible moments of Gajeel's life they sat in silence and turmoil as Laxus fought to figure out what to say. Gajeel expected outrage or remorse, maybe even Laxus just recoiling from him completely. But instead his voice was precisely measured and gentle and shaky, almost as much as his own. His heart stopped.
"I don't… I don't want that. I can't except that," he whispered.
"Why?" Gajeel felt fire ripping through his chest. Was that not good enough? I wouldn't die for anyone, not even my guild. Not for Phantom, not for Jose, but for you... I give my everything for you. What's wrong with that?
"I know what that means to you but... your life isn't worth less than mine," Laxus tilting Gajeel's face up to look at him, "I don't like you talking about dying. It scares me."
It scares me.
"Nothing scares you."
Laxus's laugh was bitter, "Why do you only see the best in me? Hm? I'm petrified right now."
"Why?"
"Because you have that same look in your eyes you did before you tried to jump... and I don't know what I'd do if you actually did it," his voice was trembling and he was reduced to a whisper, "Value your life more, idiot. Stop talking like you're going to die or... or you want to. You shouldn't want to give away something like that."
"I'm fucked up…"
"No, you're not, Gajeel,"
"Yes I am. And I told you it wouldn't change, didn't I? I don't get better. I only get worse."
"You don't get better?" his golden eyes looked like they were melting and Gajeel couldn't face the fact that those were tears making his irises shiver so. He'd done that, he'dcaused that, "You don't get better. How haven't you gotten better? Gajeel, you drank so much that even Lily never saw you sober. You lost so much weight... No one made you stop. You did that by yourself,"
"You made-"
"You couldn't stand being too hot because it reminded you of that time. You couldn't stand the thought of someone seeing your scars. The only thing that could calm you down was a cigarette. When someone walked up behind you, you'd fight the urge to defend yourself. I could barely touch you," he brushed his hand down the side of Gajeel's face, his neck, finally resting it there at his heart, "and now look at us, hm? Gajeel, you have the kind of courage that kills cowards."
Gajeel blinked up at him, silent but somehow calm. Laxus was so sincere, so utterly stripped to the bone and aching for him but someone he couldn't bring himself to agree. He didn't feel courageous. He felt dispicable. But he also couldn't argue and in the lapse of panic and misery he was finding only exhaustion. His eyes were starting to trace the outline of Laxus's jaw as they dropped lower in an attempt to just rest wretchedly on the floor.
"You give my heart wings to fly," Laxus breathed gently, brushing a stray tear as it glided down his face, "Don't die for me, neverdie for me. But... if someone asked you who you were living for, you could drop my name."
He blinked and looked up. There was absolutely no reason for him to look so kind, to be shimmering in the sunlight. Laxus forced a smile to his face and it held the kind of agony that Gajeel knew well. A brave face, a hopeful one, that didn't back down even when things seemed hopeless. So much like Natsu, like Erza, Levy and Mirajane and FairyTail.Home. Gajeel realized very suddenly how desperately he missed home.
He didn't respond, just buried his face into Laxus's chest.
"Give me a solvable problem. I can do the hard things with you."
"I think... I want to go home, Sparky. If that's ok."
"That's ok... that's ok. Let's go home."
Gajeel was sitting on the beach, his legs crossed beneath him as the sun died at his back. The air was starting to get a bite to it now, slithering across his skin like a damp, salt knife. The waves couldn't touch him and the need to take action had faded from a fiery and desperate inferno to phosphorescent
mushrooms blooming on the undersides of his ribs. He felt exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. The copper mess of his mind, was a little less of a mess and more of a jumble, though that meant little as he stared blankly at the waves as they clashed and crawled upon the shore. It was sort of relaxing now, less anxious and fretful. It felt more like the earth's heartbeat, or maybe its steady breathing, and Gajeel was trying to match its ebb and pull.
A seagull passed overhead and alighted a few feet away, beating its wings as it hopped into an oncoming wave. A keen gaze searched the water, looking for its precise opening to strike. Its head cocked to the side just as Gajeel heard footsteps approaching and the white bird ruffled its feathers and started running down the beach, eyes still peeled for a quick fish. He closed his eyes and listened as Davian approached, much like he had that morning, although this time he stopped at Gajeel's side. There were clouds inching across the sky up ahead, painted with the beginnings of sunset, and off in the distance Gajeel could make out a sail on the horizon. It blinked in and out of side, riding the end of the earth, before it finally disappeared.
"Well, that was... intimidating."
Gajeel didn't answer. What would he even say? Noit wasn't? I'm sure you've seen worse? It was more pathetic, if you ask me?
"It's a long way to walk to Magnolia. At least sixteen days. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a train?"
"Laxus decided we're walking... not much point 'n arguin' with him over it."
"Yes, but... if the goal is to get home as fast as possible, wouldn't it make more sense?"
"We'll be walkin' through the forest fer most of the trip," Gajeel mumbled, "I like the forest... it calms me down."
"I see," Davian said slowly. Gajeel sort of thought he'd leave at that, but instead he crossed his legs and lowered himself down next to him, settling in almost as if they were friends. If Gajeel were in any better of a mood, maybe he'd say something about it and let the lizard man know how little he appreciated the company. But as it stood, he couldn't bring himself to do something so complex, "Living off your instincts, despite all of its pros, does leave you quite impulsive, doesn't it? It makes you susceptible to developing unhealthy coping strategies… alcohol and drug abuse, self-harm… and I believe you've had a history of just that, am I right?"
Gajeel shrugged. He didn't really need to.
"You are quite damaged, aren't you?"
"Worthless, really. A fuckin' waste."
"Damaged does not mean beyond repair, Mr. Redfox," Davian was fishing his wallet out of his pocket and procuring a small card from it. Gajeel knew a business card when he saw one. In bold black print it said We're Only Human, Dr. Alexandra Garcia, Ph.D., Licensed Psychotherapist.
"She's very good," he said gently, and it wasn't lost on Gajeel that he'd made a point not to touch him as he handed the thing over, "She's the top recommended for our officers at Ember Island. Typically, there's a waiting period but I can pull some strings to get you at the top of the list."
"What if I don't want to?" Gajeel murmured, flipping the card over in his hands.
Davian paused, "You know I've been reading Ms. Ulrich – Bianca's – notes. Your body absorbs iron, no matter how it's... received."
"Yes."
"So, if someone stabs you with an iron blade?"
"Weak blade... iron's not s'good... too flexible," he murmured, "I'd break it."
"Steel?"
"Depends on how pure it is."
"Mm... stainless steel?"
Gajeel shrugged, "It'd hurt."
Davian picked at his pantleg, "Gold?"
Gajeel glanced over at him, studied him for a minute, "It'd hurt... a lot."
"So, you'd need medical attention? A hospital? Probably a blood transfusion if you didn't get there fast enough? Stitches and if she managed to break your bone, you'd need a splint and a cast? Physical therapy and bedrest?" his lips were drawn into a line and Gajeel nodded his affirmation before Davian resumed, "You'd refuse a doctor to mend a stab wound?"
"No."
"I didn't think you would," he replied sharply as he turned his head forward, "She stabbed you in the chest with a golden blade, Mr. Redfox, and given what I felt today, I'm inclined to believe she isn't the first one to have done this to you. The dissociation felt too familiar, wanted..."
"Just lost myself... fer a minute."
"Of course," he sighed, crossing his arms. Even sitting his back was extremely straight, "The mind is an awful and extraordinary machine, you know. It can recognize when you're dealing with a stressor so severe it could break you, and so its causes you to dissociate, to draw back from yourself so you can believe what's happening isn't real. Even when you think you can't survive something, it gives itself a way... but depersonalization can be dangerous, as well. Not being able to empathize is just as horrible is empathizing too much."
"Mh."
"Serrill is seeing her. Since the incident with Zahir, he's found himself scared of fire."
"Can't really blame him."
"You don't think he's overreacting? He didn't die, after all. In his line of work, surely he's gone through worse... maybe he's just lost his touch? Become soft? Maybe I should have him discharged."
"Yer not gonna discharge him, Davian. You want him to get better. 'Sides, he does a helluvah job runnin' the prison."
"He should get better... but you shouldn't?"
Gajeel sighed. He was so, very tired, "He's a good man, Major."
"...I see..." he paused again, scratching the sand from his palms, "What it's part of the negotiation of your release? Certainly, you couldn't argue then."
"A... what?"
"Rehabilitation... as a stipulation for your release... you should be familiar with that, correct? After all, that was the reason you missed prison time after the Phantom Lord collapse?"
"...I guess... I couldn't argue."
"Very good... I suppose I'll arrange for your first appointment in... three weeks... assuming you make good time back to Magnolia."
"Should only take a little over two weeks,"
"Ridiculous, truly. Walking? For over two weeks? Why not compromise? Take a train half the way?"
Gajeel huffed, "Might just not wanna get motion sick, y'know? He's good at hidin' it but it still sucks..."
"I suppose there is that," Davian replied curtly, before muttering, "Dragon Slayers are strange things..."
"Mh."
"What about horses? I know someone who has horses..." Gajeel glanced over at him and he seemed deep in thought before rising quickly, "I'll ask."
He took a few steps towards the house before he stopped again, "Coming?"
Gajeel shook his head, "I'm going to stay here... for a while."
"I won't find you walking off into the sea again, will I?"
He shrugged and slouched, resting his elbows on his knees. There was more violet creeping across the sky, now. He felt his chest getting tight for no reason whatsoever. He itched his wrist, harshly.
"Doubt it."
"...I suppose I'll send Laxus out, then."
Gajeel ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his gaze back down to the fair in his hand. We're Only Human, Dr. Alexandra Garcia, Ph.D., Licensed Psychotherapist. There was a picture of a woman with brown hair and eyes, a toothy smile plastered onto her face. Beneath her picture read "Mental illness is not a personal failure."
"You got a rude awakening, doc," Gajeel scoffed, flipping the card in his fingers, "Everything I've done has been a personal failure... this ain't any different."