Author's Notes:
"There is a part in each of us which holds fast to the old truth: either you are the hunter or you are the prey. Learn which you are. Act accordingly. Your life depends upon it."
― Naomi Alderman, The Power
Chapter 89:
Gajeel didn't move, didn't even breathe. He wanted to be outraged but he couldn't. He could smell something like blood but he didn't associate it with blood. There was something about the atmosphere that wasn't quite right, and his pulse was running faster because of it. It was that anxious feeling he'd had when he'd seen Kahli for the first time, the paranoid, something-is-definitely-wrong-but-just-what-is-it tug at the base of his throat. All he knew was that in one second, he'd finally done what he'd been thinking of doing and then just as suddenly he wasn't. And Davian had touched him. And now Davian was shaking and looking far less human than any time he'd ever seen him. He smelled like hunger and rage and he didn't think the table was going to hold.
"What in the hell did you do?" Gajeel growled through clenched teeth.
The Major glanced up at him, an absolutely venomous smile revealing rows of sharp teeth, "A bit of mutual wish fulfillment."
Gajeel snarled, "Why don't you mind yer damn business?"
"Would that really have been better, Mr. Redfox? After all, what would Laxus think?"
Gajeel felt fire breaking its way through his chest, his veins, coloring the edges of his vision. He was on his feet in a second, ready to just reach down and... and do something, but the man didn't move. Actually, he seemed to be waiting, gazing up at the iron dragon with a look that said go on and try it. And Gajeel knew the best course of action when someone wanted something bad to happen to them was to do nothing at all. So, he just watched with violent hatred rampaging in his chest as Davian pushed himself to stand. Something black was slipping from his nose but either he didn't notice it or didn't care as he walked his way around the table slowly, each step seeming to be some sort of labor.
He had grabbed a bottle of wine, although Gajeel couldn't smell it on him, and a glass. He collapsed into the chair opposite him, his body uncoiling like a snake's. He was opening and closing his hand, testing it, rotating his wrist and rubbing tensely at the skin.
"How dreadful," he muttered, "You have quite the vivid mind... graphic, I guess I should say. Most people enjoy the image of things but you prefer the feel, taste, smell. What an interesting way to view the world."
Gajeel narrowed his eyes at him. He didn't like the way he said interesting. It made him feel as open and raw as his arm did just moments ago, and violated. Had Davian been in his head, poking through memories? His stomach twisted.
"You have done that before, haven't you? You would think someone who's so good at killing others would be equally as skilled at killing himself, but you always seem to talk yourself out of it... some people call that courageous."
"Some call it cowardice," he snapped, carefully sheathing his knife.
"Mostly men with outdated ideologies but, yes, some call it cowardice."
"Why don't you just leave me the hell alone?" Gajeel growled.
"And abandon you in the type of spirits that seldom breed good when left to fester?" Davian asked, sweeping his eyes up at him sharply, "I know stupidity tends to be a companion in your life but that's not quite the case in mine. It will do me far less good to leave you out here to cut yourself than it would to make sure you don't. And besides, I already hadn't made plans on sleeping, so it's not quite the inconvenience it could be."
Gajeel ground his teeth and drew out his lighter.
"So, out of curiosity, was this something you experienced strictly after Aeleora? Or was this an issue for you before, as well? I ask because, well, the memory did seem a little old."
Gajeel lit his cigarette, took a deep breath, and pretended to ignore him.
"Aeleora-Bianca, I suppose, is how you addressed her."
"I know who yer talkin' about," his voice pitched down into a low growl. He refused to look at the bastard and his yellow-ringed pupils, his snide smile, "that bitch ain't the worst thing that's ever happened ta me."
"So, you've been emasculated before?"
Gajeel clicked his teeth, clutched too hard at his cigarette. His blood was getting hotter.
"Beg pardon, what I meant to say was-"
"I'm goin' ta bed."
Davian chuckled and it made Gajeel's skin crawl, "Oh yes, go run from your problems, Dragon Slayer. It does work so well for you."
Gajeel froze. Heat stabbed at his heart and he knew he should just leave but-
"Oh? So, you're not infallible..." he hummed, a sweet lilt to his tone.
What was... what was that supposed to mean?
"Fuck off."
"Therapy will be quite good for you, you know. They get you talking, which is what most people need. A simple thing really, talking through your problems, and yet it does wonders... assuming you can handle it, that is..." he was pouring himself some wine. Gajeel could smell it from where he stood with his back turned. It was red and sweet, and he could hear Davian swirling it around in his glass as if this were all just some casual affair, "It would be a lie to say I wasn't curious, though. What makes a man like you? What makes him suicidal? Could be a chemical imbalance, you know. It's very possible you were never fully functional from the start... or, maybe you're just damaged."
"Why don't ya just keep yer thoughts to yerself," Gajeel snarled and heard Davian laugh.
"But I'm in such a cruel mood... and you're ready to self-destruct. At this point it's, well, a sort of a synergistic arrangement, isn't it?"
Gajeel clicked his teeth.
Something about the way he talked was tempting. Despite everything in his head screaming this was a bad idea, that he should just go inside and be done with the day, Gajeel didn't move, because he was considering an idea. He could feel Davian's smile, the same sort of thing a fox would have just as it enters the chicken coop, all predatory and ravening. Gajeel didn't like the idea anyone considering him prey, let alone Davian-fucking-Bishop. It was far more intoxicating to be the hunter.
"Tryna haul me off ta prison again, Major Bishop?" he jabbed harshly, "Think ya can get me to confess ta somethin'?"
"Don't be absurd. It's just a little indulgence. We're connected somehow, in all of this. We should probably know more about each other, you and I. Surely you agree?"
Slowly, Gajeel turned to regard him where he sat. His eyes were on his glass as he ran his thumb over the edge of it to catch a drop of wine. He pressed the drop over his bottom lip, like just the taste could make him tipsy and he needed to be careful. His eyes flushed with shining gold and he turned his gaze to him. A coy grin pulled his lips unnaturally wide, so much like a serpent and filled with vicious contempt that it made Gajeel's stomach coil. He clenched his teeth and snarled.
He knew the kind of game Davian was playing. An exchange of information, an opportunity to dig into what was going on, and a distraction. Gajeel was suddenly aware of how much he was already impaired. He desperately didn't want to give Davian any fuel to use against him. But when would he get a chance like this again?
"I see your wheels turning..." his voice was smooth and teeming with the seductive beckon of a siren with her wrists outstretched towards him, long and enticing and edacious. Davian leaned his chin onto his knuckles, his entire body swaying towards Gajeel as if in earnest. He felt the pull of... something, whatever that thing was that him and his sister could do, tugging at his drunken mind, "Come, Dragon Slayer, what have you got to lose at this point? Certainly not your dignity."
This was a trap, a clearly orchestrated trap, and Gajeel was going to run right into it. I can't afford to let myself be blindsided.
"You have no idea what I have to lose; what I've lost in the fight to protect it."
Davian motioned to the chair across from him, "Why don't you explain it to me? Hm?"
Gajeel's mind screamed not to be manipulated, to stay clear. Just walk away. This has bad news written all over it. But the Major was as magnetic as an opium den, and Gajeel's lungs ached for soothing vapors. He turned, and with no lack of malice in his heart he stepped carefully back to the chair he'd abandoned. He hated the way Davian watched him, like he was sizing him up to eat, and maybe that was the point. Krew had said they were maneaters, hadn't he?
He poured himself some more whiskey but he didn't drink it. Instead, he set it off to the side, between him and Davian. He could see Davian's hand through the warped glass of the tumbler, with nails neatly trimmed and gold, and when viewed without the obstruction he saw long black claws tapping against the table. He set his jaw and took a drag, trying to keep calm. Davian smiled.
"You're incredibly keen. Have you figured it out yet? The glamour?"
"Not sure," Gajeel let his voice stay soft, musing, like he really didn't know what to make of it. The glamour, Davian called it. Gajeel was sure he knew how it worked, but every hunter worth his salt knows that real knowledge is in hands-on experience.
"I'm sort of surprised. You found Kahli, after all, and he was certainly better with his glamour than I. And it was you who found Aeleora's first little hideout, as well. You have exceptionally sharp senses, far past that of a typical human," his eyes darted up to the second story window, "and even other Dragon Slayers... I had wondered if your past had anything to do with it. I would assume it does, although that really does little in the way of shedding light on Father's intentions."
"Ya say it like ya can't just ask," Gajeel pointed out and a wry smile came to Davian's face. He dodged the question in Gajeel's tone.
"So, were you damaged from the start? Forgive me, but I have a hard time believing someone like you could ever be innocent."
Gajeel stared at him hard as he let the smoke curl out of his mouth. He crossed his arms, trying to figure out what he would let slide. He was twenty-five years in the making, and half of it spent in situations not too different from this. Old habits die hard, or else his did, anyway. He could do this. Half-drunk, self-depreciated, and nearly bubbling over with the agony he was in over staying quiet and cautious, he could do this.
"Was I ever innocent? Course I was. What kid ain't? It wasn't my fuckin' fault dad vanished when I was twelve and in the middle of goddamn-nowhere. But dad taught me to use my head, not like you, of course. Dad was a dragon. Wasn't like he was teachin' me how to read. But he did teach me now to hunt and track and find my way to civilization if anything happened to him. Lucky for me, when I finally got there, the guild was in short supply of little shits my age willin' ta join..."
He made a show of reclining back and getting comfortable, playing at letting his guard down and staring into his drink like it was feeding him his own sob story. He felt it again, the pull, that influence, and thought maybe he should try making a gamble. How much of his mind could Davian truly see?
"While other kids were bein' sent off to school or playin' Daddy's helper, they had mepickin' the pockets of tourists and hittin' up neighborhoods fer protection money. And just three years later, when I was fifteen, you know, when most kids're out finding their first crush an' learnin' what they want ta be in their life, they gave me a knife and told me if you don't wanna end up like him, you'll learn to stop bein' a fuckin' pussy,"
Davian's egotistic smirk had vanished and his eyes had gotten considerably colder. Maybe that meant he needed to stop...
"But that was so long ago. Fuck, I was little and weak and so perfectly naive but I sure grew up outta that fast and I grew up mean. I had to, wasn't really given the option not ta..."
The brush again, more insistent. Keep talking. Davian was looking for something specific, some piece of his history... what was he looking for?
"They made target missions out to be a real big honor but I never found it very chivalrous myself. It was just another big lie Jose told us to get us caught in his trap. See, ya didn't take missions like here, like most guilds. Jose Porla, The Guild Master himself, gave you a mission. And you did it or ya better not make it back, because Master's wrath was worse than anything yer target could do to ya. My old guildmates used to think I was real fucking good at my job. Course they didn't know the only reason why was because I was so scared of failure, because I was the one who took out the last guy that did it." A laugh bubbled up in the hollow of his mouth that tasted like raw dandelion greens. "I didn't lose my innocence, it died screaming."
Gajeel flicked his wrist dismissively. The ember of his cigarette danced in the darkness and scoffed, "But what does all that matter now, eh? T's all in tha past. Left it all behind me and now look. I'm so much better."
"Quite," Davian agreed, his tongue flicking out to taste another drop of wine. Again, his eyes flashed, and Gajeel felt that pull on his mind like a pulse. He clenched his throat around a growl, trying to remain unfazed, "So then why didn't you just leave, Mr. Redfox? You can't tell me they didn't pay you enough in blood money that you couldn't make a new name for yourself elsewhere."
Damn, he was already sick of being asked questions, "Leave? Yeah, sure. Do you know anyone who left Phantom Lord?"
Davian smirked, like the question was below him, and he gazed to the side for a moment before he frowned, concentrating harder. After a beat, his eyebrow quirked up as he thought, "Mr. Kaiyu."
"Hajime, yeah, but he had somethin' I didn't: someone ta take the fall fer 'im," Gajeel smirked as he took a draw from his cigarette, "I've known Hajime for years. He was the one who taught me how ta smoke-" he displayed his cigarette for the Major who watched him carefully, "-taught me how ta kill, too. Bought me my first knife. You want a guy who knows Phantom Lord inside and out, it's him. Had a friend we called Sal who owned a smuggling ring in town and that guy had some good connections... not as good as Jose's though."
"They sent you after him? Knowing your connection to him? Sounds rather foolish to me."
"Wasn't anything foolish about it. I can track almost anyone when I try hard enough, and Jose knew that. And he knew I wouldn't say no. That's all that really mattered. Fear's what makes the world go 'round, Major, but you already knew that."
"At any rate, he lived, so it would seem he was thwarted in that regard," the Major observed tensely, getting frustrated. He wasn't finding what he was looking for.
Gajeel chuckled and tried not to get overly confident at how it alarmed Davian. Gajeel's smile vanished, though, as he thought about it all. He itched at his wrist.
Don't get sucked in now...
"Jose wanted him dead but he was sorta like a father to me, ya know... couldn't go through with it. We got into a real nasty fight, though, and I did everything I could to convince him I had the guts to actually kill him. Ended up scarring him instead. Met his wife recently and I could tell just by lookin' at her she knew exactly who gave her husband that nasty thing... guess that doesn't matter, though. He lived, and I convinced Jose that would be enough to keep him quiet. All Hajime wanted was a nice unassuming life away from the violence. Guess that happens when ya fall in love; it puts inta perspective everythin' you have ta lose...
He felt a pang lance through his chest. Davian, visibly stiffened.
"Thought I made it out pretty unscathed from that one. Jose was furious of course, but when everyone looked around and saw not even Kurogane would bring The Titan of Phantom Lord down, well, there wasn't exactly a price high enough he could put on his head. 'Sides, he still had me. That deal coulda gone down a lot worse for him, all things considered."
"You used yourself as collateral... in exchange for Mr. Kaiyu."
Gajeel didn't like the way Davian said those words, like he'd done something chivalrous. He hadn't done anything chivalrous. There was nothing good about what he'd done. And the repercussions had been steep.
"Don' make it sound like a good thing. That was one 'a the biggest mistakes of my life," he nearly burned his knuckles on his cigarette. Damn, that one had gone fast.
"Sparing someone's life a mistake? But I suppose he would want to get even, wouldn't he?" Davian asked with a sort of edge to his voice, like he might just understand that sentiment, or maybe he knew he would soon. He quickly hid it, "I suppose it wouldn't surprise me that Jose wasn't above torture."
"Torture? Nah, Jose was a busy man. He didn't have time to sit around and watch someone crack," Gajeel lit another cigarette, his mind wandering over the tracks that laced his skin. Old wounds, old scars, but memories still burning and raw, "Pain sorta becomes background noise after a while, anyway."
"Is that why you favor cutting yourself?"
There was something in Davian's voice, a flinch, hesitance. The shifting thing on the edge of his consciousness recoiled as if it had been burned.
"Yeah... guess it is," Gajeel hadn't meant to, but he flashed his teeth.
Davian frowned and looked away, running his finger over the rim of his glass to catch a drop of wine. The Major's mind was as sharp as his claws, "Revenge, then, probably someone you cared about."
"And used me to do it..." Gajeel stared at the end of his cigarette. The smoke lazed up towards the night sky. He felt again that tug, watched as the Major took another drop of wine, and it wasn't conviction in Gajeel's voice when he spoke again. There was malice there, and rage, and his eyes snapped to Davian's sharply just as they filled with that tell-tale gold, "It ain't gonna happen again."
In Gajeel's mind, he pictured Juvia. More than that, he pictured her tears, her anguish, the sound of her when she was miserable. Davian shuddered and his eyes blew wide with shock. The color drained from his face, and they both realized this was all the opportunity Gajeel needed.
"You don't do this often, do ya, Major? Or yer not very good at it," he took a deep breath, let his eyes flutter shut. The rage in Davian was gone, but the hunger was there, stifled as it was with the sudden onset of grief, "Did ya find out anythin' useful, Major? Because I sure as hell did."
Of course, Gajeel's first reaction would be to leap over the table and curl a fist in the base of the Major's throat – he let that thought play out and watched the stricken way Davian stared at him. Like a cat does to a hand outstretched, Gajeel leaned into the connection that Davian had made, let him feel every memory he had of pressing a talon to a soft throat as someone unsuspecting and blossoming with panic clutched in desperation at his wrists to not be impaled. Velvet flesh barring the way to an artery, the sprinting pulse beneath skin, and what it was like to cut that fine wire that fed blood to the brain. Davian cringed and shivered, a hiss escaping his black tongue with a hazardous flicker.
That hadn't quite been the reaction Gajeel had wanted. Disgust, shock, that was all well and good but fear was what he needed. That meant there was something Davian was scared of far deeper than just this. He didn't miss the way that hunger surged at the thought of blood being spilled, and how it was quickly drowned.
Davian had said he couldn't stand another drop of human blood...
Gajeel didn't know a lot about hunger, but there were other things very close to it he was familiar with. Obsession, greed, lust... he knew a lot about lust... But if blood was the key, he didn't need to conjure up an image to get his point across, did he? Not when he had something so much more physical.
"Ever played Bishop as a kid, Major?" he pulled out his knife, flipped it over in his hands, teased the point with his finger, "Some kids called it Nerve, Five Finger Fillet?"
"Mr. Redfox..."
"It's easy ta play, ya just lay your hand on the table and-" he stabbed into the table by his thumb, rushed across the rest of his hand. He left his knife in the table, standing up straight next to his pinky, and when he glanced back up to Davian, he was clutching his chair like his life depended on it, "Wanna play?"
His voice was even but his breathing wasn't, "No."
"But, you have a knife?" he eyed the black hilt for a moment and then stared at Davian intently, allowing a smile to curl up the side of his face, "What's wrong, Major? Worried about a little cut?"
Now it was Davian's turn to grind his teeth. Gajeel shrugged, pulled his knife out of the table, and played again. Each sharp hit of the blade into the wood resounded off of the sleeping world around them. Five times, five misses to knuckles just waiting to be slit open, and then it was resting by his thumb again.
"You don't know what you're doing," Davian's hiss was barely audible and it made Gajeel laugh.
"Ya know, I think it's kind of weird you have a thing about human blood... Bianca sure as hell didn't, but she was more human than you, huh?" he sneered, "Krew said you're all a bunch of maneaters... do you eat people, Major?"
"Of course not," he breathed, "that's... barbaric."
"But you want to, and the smell of blood makes you hungry..." he pressed the tip of his knife to his finger, watched his skin bow at the pressure, "...I bet it drives you insane to smell it... turns you absolutely feral..."
"Mr. Redfox, don't," panic was seeping into his voice, "...please... you're making a mistake."
"Tell me what I want to know, and I won't."
"That is... that is a ridiculous gamble! I could kill you if-"
"Then tell me what I want to know," Gajeel reiterated, pressing the blade even harder. The sting was refreshing and he knew Davian could feel it, the stretch just before skin broke, "Because as much as you despise me, you don't want to kill me – or at least, not kill me and eat me – ain't that right?"
Davian was silent, and when Gajeel finally pulled his eyes up to gaze over the glittering metal, he could see his lips were in a fine line. Gajeel smiled, and made sure to show all of his teeth. He watched Davian's jaw tighten.
"So, why are you scared of eating humans?"
"Because it's barbaric!"
"Major..." Gajeel drew out his name like smoke, "I said, why are you scared?"
"I... well, it's..." Gajeel raised an eyebrow at him as he floundered. Davian took in a shaky breath, "It's supposed to be a, a ritual. The Rite of the Body, a rebirth of-of a halfblood into a fullblood... to kill the part of you that's imperfect... human... I don't-I don't want that."
Gajeel chewed on that for a moment, on what it could mean. In the end, he didn't think it really mattered. Davian was scared of becoming like Bianca and Kahli. Maybe he wasn't as much of a threat as Gajeel had originally thought... but he wasn't going to take any chances.
"I want to feel it again... your glamour. I want to make sure you're not lying," Gajeel said carefully, "Don't try to manipulate me."
"I'm... not sure I could," he replied rigidly.
The feeling wasn't magnetic and enticing this time, it was reserved, so much like the brush of the back of one hand to another when two people pass each other. And even though it was intentional, Gajeel could feel Davian's hesitance and even his quiet panic.
"Is Father after me?"
"Yes... yes, I think so."
"Is it revenge? For killing his daughter?"
"I'm... not sure," at Gajeel's swift look, he amended, "If it is, I don't think it's all. But I don't know the purpose of... of you... why It wants you."
A dead end. Gajeel glared down at the knife in his hands and ran the blade down his palm, enjoying the feeling of something so sharp threatening his skin. Laxus hated sharp pains but Gajeel had always had an affinity for them. His skin was usually so numb when covered in scales that actually being able to break through, to bleed, it was a nice reminder that he was still alive under all the iron...
"Please... don't..." Davian whispered.
"Not so fun when you're the prey, is it?" Gajeel asked, drifting the sharp down to softest skin of his wrist, "You often hunt humans, Major? For your job, I mean."
"Occasionally... it's not exactly a pastime."
"It's not like huntin' anything else in this world... but that's to be expected," he sighed, "Seems counterintuitive but sometimes you gotta let yourself be caught first before you can make your move."
"You mean to say you planned this?" he hissed.
"No... I had a good night. Didn't plan on doin' anything like this... I'm just opportunistic. Gotta take yer chance when ya have it, Major. You never know when it'll be your last...
"So, your glamour only works when I don't know it's there, and it relies on sight. You can hide yer scent when you want to, but ya usually don't. Humans don't rely on scent and taste and touch to know who people are, but I do... that was how I found Bianca, Kahli... you. Bianca figured it out. Seems like she was the observant one."
Gajeel looked up to see Davian's eyes wide and face stunned, like he didn't expect him to know so much, or maybe Gajeel had just made a lot of things make sense. Maybe he was revealing too much, but he also had to be sure he wasn't wrong. It was a hard place to be in and Gajeel wasn't keen to it.
"You don't know shit about what Father wants. You know somethin' is going on, and it involves you, and it scares you. Either you ain't on good terms with Father, or you're scared to ask."
"Well I should think that's apparent-"
"I figured out your little pull on my emotions, your connection. Now that I know it's there, I bet ya can't use that anymore, either."
Davian's mouth was in a tight line, his yellow eyes were shivering. His breathing was shallow, strictly through his nose.
"I got one more question for ya, Major, and you better be honest..." Gajeel could see his pulse jump out against his throat, could smell the heady panic in his sweat, "The connection you and I have... do you have it with Laxus?"
"I... I don't know."
Gajeel shook his head, pressed the knife into his wrist, "That's not a good enough answer."
"But I don't... I'm not sure, I mean..."
The pinprick turned into a faint line of pain dancing down Gajeel's arm the length of the knife. He pressed harder.
"I'm... somewhat? Possibly? But it's not the same, it's... diluted... somehow. I don't, I can't describe it to you..."
He changed his grip on the hilt, "Break the connection."
"I can't. I hardly know how it's formed, let alone how to sever it..."
"That's not the answer I want."
"That's all I can give you. I... I simply don't- please-!"
Gajeel pressed the blade into his skin and Davian hissed, his hand flying to his chest and clutching at it. Gajeel could feel his panic in a sudden wave as the blade sank deeper into his wrist.
"You know, I've been forced to do a lotta things in my life, and I've made a lot of mistakes. I know you don't think so, Major, but I do like to learn from them."
There was a shared moment of striking pain as the blade struck bone. Davian made a noise in the back of his throat that could have been a choke or like he might have been struggling to breathe.
"See, dad taught me how to live. Phantom taught me that more important than living, is learning how to kill. Your sister taught me that there are things worse than death, and that killin' is a lot easier when the thing you're killin' ain't human. And prison? Prison taught me to conserve my resources, to be patient, to wait for my opportunity to move forward..."
He took a deep, shuddering breath as he began to draw the blade back out, "...you taught me not to make a trap I can't get myself caught in."
The blade fell to the table. The metal sang against the wood before it fell still and silent. Gajeel smiled at him wickedly, "It's a steel blade, Major. I can only bleed when I want to."
Panic and disbelief still buzzed about the edges Gajeel's mind with the Major's presence. His jaw was rigid, and in that instant Gajeel almost felt bad. Davian Bishop, for all his antagonizing and malicious curiosity, was right. They were similar. They were both caught in this trap with little reason why, both facing pieces of themselves startling and easily taken advantage of. Gajeel wasn't typically cruel when he didn't need to be, and so he couldn't contain the guilt that fought to bubble up in his chest as he watched Davian slowly wind down from watching his fear realized suddenly turn into an empty threat.
"You're lucky, Davian. There are a lotta ex-mercs you coulda done that to who wouldn't take it so well..." he stood and sheathed his knife, "I see things that're still fragile, helpless, and I see something familiar. Some of us don't get to hang onto that... I don't like to be the one to take it away."
His breathing was harsh, his hands shaking. He was desperately trying to keep his voice steady, to find some of his shattered façade, "Is that why you protect Laxus? The reason you never told him of Kahli? The lacrima?"
"He's never met a challenge he couldn't tackle. He thinks he knows how ugly this world can be, but he doesn't. He's confident, naïve, untouchable, safe..." Gajeel snuffed out his cigarette against the table, "I want him to stay that way."
"He'll resent you for it."
Gajeel thought over that a moment, and shrugged, "It wasn't until I had fallen on the floor alone that I realized my whole life I'd let people who didn't care about me fulfill my needs. I found comfort in a cycle and so I forced it to repeat, and now I can't change all the damage that I've dealt because of it. I took my first life at fifteen, and ten years later I still haven't learned how to look at something innocent without thinking of all the ways I can tear it apart..."
"Maybe he'll resent me for what I choose to do, but as long as he never has to live with this kind of self-hate, I can't say I'd mind. After all, what good was it to live through everything I've lived through if I can't even keep the people I care about safe?"
Gajeel didn't like the look on Davian's face, like he'd just heard someone commit to a promise he had no way of keeping. Gajeel wished he could be reminded of the cruel thing that he'd been just minutes ago, how he'd sought to take advantage of him when he knew he was at his weakest, but he was having a hard time. He was tired, and the liquor had worn off. Davian's large reptilian eyes didn't seem sinister anymore, they seemed frightened and mild, like a kid who'd just found out they weren't strong enough to hold the door shut when the bad guys came to take them away.
"If you're not ready to do whatever Father wants you to do, then you're in a dangerous place, Davian. Can't say I envy you, but I guess we are in a similar situation, so I can't talk much."
"It would be... beneficial... if we worked together."
Gajeel shook his head, "It would, except I don't want shit to do with you. I don't want Laxus to have shit to do with you either, but I'm not stupid enough to think he'll hear me out on it."
Davian's voice was quiet when he responded, "I... I think of him as sort of a friend, at this point. I certainly don't mean him any harm... not intentionally."
Gajeel watched him closely, followed the miserable slope of his shoulders all the way down to his hands which were knitted together in apprehension. He was sincere, even though Gajeel could no longer feel him, he could tell.
"You weren't close with Irena and Serrill when all this started."
"I... no, I suppose not... not as I am now."
"It will use that against you, as soon as It gets the chance."
"That's my fear."
Again, Gajeel studied him. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, and found himself scratching at where his prison band used to sit. A nervous habit, he knew, and one that he really needed to kick.
"Some advice, then," he growled and Davian's spine snapped straight in alarm, "At the end of the day, all you have is yourself and a place you need to get to. Figure out how to make it on your own. Get yourself a weapon that can't be used against you-" he motioned down to his boot, "-my knife is made from a low-carbon steel. Even if I'm injured, if someone stabs me with it, they can't kill me. You need to find a way to make yourself valuable, and if ya can't, make yourself desirable."
He pushed his hands into his pockets, held Davian's widening yellow eyes now brimming with questions. Gajeel ignored it, and instead leaned forward onto the balls of his feet in emphasis, dropping his voice low, "As much as you hate your demons, they were given to you for a reason. Don't tame them... they'll save yer life one day."
"I don't like this advice," Davian muttered dumbly.
"You're not supposed to," he snarled, but it couldn't come out quite as sharp as he wanted it to be. He turned to walk towards the house, and his eyes made their way to the second story window. His heart dropped.
"And so now what? You're just going to go inside? Pretend none of this happened tomorrow?"
"It's what I do."
Gajeel sighed as he stared up at the window. He could picture Laxus in bed, snoring softly, the golden strands of his hair plastered to the side of his face from sweat. His chest ached, "I meant what I said in the cabin, Davian. That man is my light. He's the only thing in this goddamn world that makes me forget how much of a piece of shit I am. If something happens to him, I'm going to come after you..."
He glanced at the Major of his shoulder, "Don't make me come after you, Davian."
He left him out there in the yard. Bickslow was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. His arms were crossed, his face still as stone, and there was a dark look set across his features that said he'd heard more than what Gajeel would have liked. He didn't meet his eyes when he passed him by, and Gajeel figured that was probably for the best. He didn't trust those eyes anyway.