Author's Notes:
Gajeel talks to people while at Ember Isle...
...and I'm sure none of it is important. I'm definitely not setting anything up. Don't read between the lines anywhere. It's all super casual conversation. Just your normal, everyday small talk. Don't. Read. Too. Much. Into. It. :)
...you're not getting anxious are you?
TW:
There are a couple trigger warnings, but it's nothing crazy, I promise.
Mention of suicide
Mention of torture
Brief mention of physical abuse
Chapter 107:
Gajeel awoke early in the morning, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sighed. There were still rose petals crushed into the sheets, across the floor, staining everything with splotches of maroon. His throat throbbed wherever marks had been left. He was covered in bruises and Laxus was covered in four scores over and over and over again. He slipped his arms around the blonde's chest and kissed at healing wounds. He heard Laxus's breath suck in sharply, and then ease out in a sigh.
"I'm sorry." Gajeel muttered.
The blonde shivered and he sounded dazed, "Sorry?"
"I should have been more careful." he whispered. He kissed gently another cut, again Laxus sucked in a breath. He froze.
"That..." Laxus shivered again, "...feels nice."
Gajeel was enraptured, watching gooseflesh raise across his back, "Does it?"
"Yeah... why does it feel so nice?"
"Oh," Gajeel said, eloquently, "T'sa pain and pleasure thing, Sparky."
"Mmf," he muttered into his pillow, "You're leaving me again."
"I gotta go to therapy," Gajeel whispered, "Wish it wasn't so far away."
"How many more weeks...?" Laxus started, and then stopped, "You're getting better. I'm being selfish."
"I don't mind ya bein' a little selfish," Gajeel chuckled, "Think you deserve it after last night."
"Yeah?" Laxus turned onto his back and looked at him, "Did I do a good job?"
"Did... did you do a good job?" Gajeel gave him a bit of a wry grin, confused, "I think so?"
"You think so?"
"It's been a long time since someone has fucked me until I passed out."
Laxus wrinkled his nose, "I didn't fuck you. I made love to you."
Understanding sparked in Gajeel's eyes then, and his smile became wide and keen, "I'm sorry. Yes, you made passionate, passionate love to me, and it was incredibly romantic and you're an extremely doting lover who met every single one of my needs. Better?"
"Thank Mavis," Laxus breathed, "I'm telling that to Mirajane. Verbatim."
Gajeel cocked a studded brow, "You often tell yer ex how I feel about your performance in bed?"
"Only when she says I'm bad at something."
"Jet wasn't the only one with his pedigree read by the ladies at the bar, hm?" Gajeel snickered.
Laxus turned to face him now. He brought up a hand to stroke the side of his lover's face. Gajeel's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into it, kissing his wrist. When he opened his eyes again, they captured what little there was of the dawn trickling through the curtains. Laxus thought they looked like the smoldering embers of a fire.
"Did I make you feel loved?" he asked, soberly.
Gajeel blinked at him slowly, "Of course."
"Did I make you feel beautiful?" Laxus whispered.
"Yes, Laxus," he hummed, abating the blonde's worry with a gentle smile, "I feel beautiful."
Laxus sighed like his words were a relief, and he rolled onto his elbow so he could lean down and kiss him. He kissed him until the morning filled with the blush of dawn, and Gajeel had to drag himself from their warm bed and head for Ember Island Maximum Security Prison. Laxus listened to him rummage around, get himself dressed, and lumber out into the hallway. He fell back into a fitful sleep before Gajeel was even done packing.
The wind was always cooler by the sea, not that it bothered him. The cold never really did, probably because of all the winters he'd spent without creature comforts, curled up in the giant claws of a dragon. The wind rushed by, whipping his hair back from his face. He took a deep breath in, lolled his head back so he could stare at the clouds as they passed overhead, and sighed. He pulled out a cigarette.
Laxus was hiding things... and it bothered him.
He knew it shouldn't, not really, but the problem was how terribly important it seemed. To be honest, he'd thought perhaps taking his knife had been morbid curiosity at first. But the more Gajeel had thought about it, the more it didn't make much sense.
Now, he hadn't been snooping, because Gajeel didn't snoop. He was perceptive. It was important to him, for instance, to sharpen the knife Laxus had taken. Whatever he wanted it for – that he had absolutely no desire to know – it still needed to be sharp. A dull knife is far more dangerous than a sharp one. So, he'd gone back into the room to ask for it when he saw Laxus had fallen back to sleep. He didn't want to wake him because he seemed exhausted. They had made love almost the entire night. Laxus, damn him, whether it was competition or just his regular stubbornness, had decided he was going to love him until he couldn't see straight and he had done just that. Gajeel had literally blacked out for a moment from exhaustion. They'd fallen asleep much in the same way they'd collapsed, and then just a few short hours later Gajeel had to lumber his way out of bed.
He lit the cigarette. Took a drag.
So, he'd let the blonde sleep. There were only so many places where one might keep a knife, anyway, especially a nine-inch hunting knife. Laxus wasn't exactly creative, probably because he wasn't exactly trying to hide it. It seemed more like he was just hoping Gajeel wouldn't notice. It was in the bedside table with a couple other things Gajeel hadn't expected to be there. There were pieces of something smoky and teal in color. Pieces of some sort of smoothed stone? Although he didn't know anything that would be streaked in black the way it was. And then, there was the book. Gajeel recognized the ritual circle on the front for what it was but he had no desire to open it. He didn't really want to know why Laxus would have such a thing. But now... now he wished he'd asked.
And finally, and most concerning of all, he saw a potion bottle. It was one he didn't immediately recognize. Actually, at first he thought perhaps it was something a little more lubricious, but when it rolled around he recognized it for what it was. It was a potion to combat magic deficiency. What in the hell were the implications of that? Because Laxus had seemed fine, slightly pale, maybe, but when wasn't he? Actually, he'd been pretty pale for a while. Gajeel just thought that maybe he needed to get some more sun. Magic deficiency was a big deal but occasionally Laxus fought other very strong wizards. It wouldn't be beyond his scope to challenge someone to a fight with the sort of proclivity towards a magic that could steal his own power. It was rare but not unheard of, and Laxus was an S-class mage. Obviously, whatever had happened, he'd made it home. But it still turned his gut a bit to think about.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his head.
He had confidence in his partner. He had confidence in Laxus. He knew he shouldn't worry the way he was but love is dreadful that way. The beauty it brings into your life also opens the door to pain. But if Laxus wasn't ok, surely he would have told him? Surely, there would have been signs. He would have smelled the weakness on him, or noticed him moving in a more guarded way. Surely, surely Laxus wouldn't have carried him across their threshold and stayed up all night loving him if he were so drained…
It was clinging to those thoughts that he had been able to quietly disregard what he'd seen and carefully walk down the stairs. He had sharpened the knife and left it for him on the counter with a freshly oiled leather sheath. He'd picked up the votives, swept littered rose petals, and left the ones in the bedroom for him to wake up in.
He pictured Laxus waking up covered in rose petals. He pictured the wine stains that would pattern his skin from them. A pang in his chest made him miss being home in his arms again. He started singing softly.
"Warm lips on the back of my neck
Oh, I'm spinning in circles chasing your shadow silhouette
These fever dreams leave me dizzy in the head
I wake up shaking in the darkness with an aching in my chest
An aching in my chest..."
He opened his eyes and gazed out towards the trees. The clouds were like castles sailing across the sky. He watched them go with each profound and driving gust of wind. Despite it all, it was a lovely day. The sun was warm and it melted away his apprehension. On days like these, Gajeel often felt the need to run. Run, run and pretend he'd never come back. To go searching for the sounds of the forest; of deer startled by his approach, the flapping of birds scared from their nests in low-lying branches. He craved the din of insects humming and the years to be melted off of him like frost in the wake of spring. To be a child again, to not know the world beyond what he could see, touch, and taste. Run, taken away by instinct and obedience to wilderness and nature. Run...
He didn't, of course. Instead, he opened his body and pores to the light of the sun and hummed Cover Me In Roses, which seemed to have stuck in his head ever since he'd walked out the front door so early the previous morning. Three days. The trip to therapy and back home again took three days. And he hated it.
"Take me in your tender arms, roll me in the dirt,
Cover me in roses, cover me in pearls,
And when the sun sets low, roll me in dirt,
Cover me in roses, cover me in pearls..."
His ruminating came to a staggering halt when the fine hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end. He could feel he was being watched and he had a pretty good idea as to whom by. It was hard to hear with so much wind, but by this point he was pretty sure he could sense this particular snake from a mile away.
"Can I help you with somethin', Major?" Gajeel asked, taking another drag.
"It is uncanny how you do that."
He didn't hear the sound of a cloak snapping in the wind, and was surprised when the Major stepped around the bench he was reclining on to stand in view.
"T's harder now that yer weird hunger is gone," he sighed out a mouthful of smoke, "Still ain't really mastered hiding your scent. Rage is a hard one, though. It likes to stick around."
The Major stared at him for a moment before closing his eyes. He took off his glasses.
"Whatever it is... can it wait?"
The Major paused, "I beg pardon?"
"Can it wait?" Gajeel asked again, before taking an exceptionally deep drag. There was a time something like that would have made him splutter and choke. Not now, though. Not after how many he'd smoked in his short life, "I'm in sorta a good mood. I see the good doctor here in an hour. Can it wait until after that?"
"Does therapy often put you in a foul mood?" the Major asked in a strangely conversational way. Gajeel tried very hard not to look too far into it.
"T's a mixed bag with her. Can't tell ya how many times I've been sorta proud of something only to hear 'that's good news, Gajeel, very good, but have you considered-?' and it end up being that I'm doing something wrong. Think the last one was about how, yeah, I'm not cutting myself anymore but I'm craving the smokes. Could it be that maybe I'm just killing myself slowly instead?" he took a dreg of his cigarette out of spite. He mocked the good doctor's voice, "But it is progress, which we love to see. Anything is better than actively causing yourself harm."
"I suppose that would be disheartening, wouldn't it?" yellow eyes watched him in a passive way, like maybe this was something normal they did on occasion... except that they very much didn't.
"Yeah... and I heard Maelia's ex-husband somehow posted bond. You want a good job, Major, that's one. Find a way to get that piece of shit back in jail. Bastard used to hum while he beat her senseless. She's gonna be torn up..." he clicked his teeth and laid his head back on the bench again. The clouds marched steadily on the harsh tug of the wind. Gajeel was keen to the feeling that autumn was marching steadily after as well, waiting in the wings, "I've always been a sucker for women's tears."
"I... didn't know that... about you. Although perhaps I should have inferred."
Gajeel lowered his gaze to him, hiking up a brow in question. For some reason, the Major elaborated. It was all... strangely casual.
"I'm sure you remember the night you threw my glamour back in my face? The visions of your friend were... vivid, to say the least."
"Right... yeah... probably could have picked something with a little less bite to it... or maybe not," he looked back up again. Took a drag. This time, when the wind picked up, Gajeel could catch the distant sound of waves pounding on the shore. It was quickly swallowed up by silence that followed, "Anyway, I'd like to enjoy this peace while I have it, if you don't mind. Whatever it is you want from me, if it can wait..." he closed his eyes and tried not to swallow hard, "I'd very much like it to wait."
"It is odd seeing you in a good mood... although, I'm sure I couldn't possibly imagine why you would be."
Good natured sarcasm. Now that was strange coming from Major Bishop, or at least the fact that it was directed at him of all people. Gajeel blinked his eyes back open, sat up straight, and really looked at him. He seemed... normal. As normal as he could be, anyway. The rage was definitely there, but it was muted, or possibly just under control. He wasn't disheveled in the way he was the last time Gajeel had seen him, but that could mean anything. What he was, though, was giving his neck a critical stare. Gajeel glanced down. Maybe his choice of dress hadn't been the wisest. As it was, he could see the deep purple splotches from marks Laxus had left, quite a few of them already beginning to fade green. He reached down to the bag at his feet and dug around, finding a black scarf and pulling it free. He sighed as he wrapped it around his neck.
"Ah, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"You didn't," Gajeel replied, "I don't much care but Laxus doesn't love people knowing about his personal life. Besides, m'sure it would make the ladies in therapy uncomfortable. Silvana is one of those conservative types. And Thomas..."
He rolled his eyes.
"Thomas Cross?" the Major asked, "I've met him on a few occasions. Our jobs crossed frequently back before his partner passed. He was an opinionated man then as well."
"Grief hasn't made that any better."
"It seldom does."
They lapsed into silence again. The trees whispered to each other as the wind carded through their branches. Gajeel's stomach bunched with nervous tension, especially when at long last Major Bishop walked over and took a seat next to him. Despite how Gajeel sat widely, arm slung over the back of the bench, there was plenty of room so they didn't touch. He could smell the desert and after a moment of sitting in silence, Davian looked as if he suddenly remembered something and took out of his pockets some gloves, covering his hands. He hunched forward, rotating his glasses in his hands. The way he looked, like he was thinking very hard on something, like he was trying to structure a question in his head over and over again, made Gajeel run his fingers through his hair nervously.
"Advice... you want advice on something," he surmised. Yellow eyes flickered his way.
"Again... uncanny."
"I've been there, 'cept it typically was a knife in my hands and I was askin' Hajime who, occasionally, had something worth sayin'."
"Oddly enough, I've found you occasionally have something worth saying."
"Agree to disagree." Gajeel drew in the last bit of his cigarette, smothered it on the underside of his boot, "Might as well just say it Major."
"Phantom Lord was... dreadful, to you, is that right?"
"More so lookin' back."
He paused, thinking very hard on what he was about to say before he said it, "If Jose Porla got out of prison tomorrow and showed up at your door, telling you that you would be returning to Phantom Lord or else, what would you do?"
"I dunno." he replied at length, "A year ago, I would've said I'd kill him... somehow. If he just suddenly showed up on my doorstep, I could turn my arm into a lance and just rip his heart out on the spot. Laxus ain't too big on that. Think he'd be disappointed in me."
"You'd fear his opinion of you more than the man seeking your own life?" the Major asked.
"Fear? No... but for some reason, he thinks I'm a good person. I'd like to at least pretend I won't disappoint him again," Gajeel sighed.
"Disappoint him again?" the Major asked, his voice quiet.
"He was against me killin' your sister," Gajeel said, "He ain't mad about it? But… You know, though, don't you? He didn't want Zahir dead, either. Or Unaven. Life is more precious to him than it is to me."
He turned the scenario over in his head, seriously. He didn't want to guess at why Davian would want the answer to such a question, "I think... I'd make him bleed."
The Major's brow furrowed, "I don't... I don't follow."
"The thing about Master Jose was that he was always two or three steps ahead of you. It was like he just somehow knew everything. Everything you thought you kept secret, any weakness that could be used against you... no matter how hard you tried to hide it, Jose somehow knew. And he was a Wizard Saint. He had connections and called them in on the regular. We were all just pawns on a chess board to him. You can't compete with that. I couldn't compete with that. Even Aria, who could remove all of your magic with a touch, was scared of the Master. It wasn't respect. It was fear. He was like a god to us, untouchable." Gajeel was watching the clouds again, picking out their subtle changes, trying not to get too lost in the memories still steeped in darkness, "Gods can't bleed... but a man can."
Gajeel glanced over to him, "Whoever it is yer scared of, make him bleed. Puts things into perspective."
"What if I can't? Or at least, not in a way that matters?"
"Your brother." Gajeel said and watched the way the Major's lips pressed into a thin line. "You said you ran him through twice."
"I did, and only was able because I did something so stupid he didn't see it coming. A few moments later, it was as if it never happened."
"Then I guess you better get real knowledgeable about yer body's limits. 'Cuz yer goin' to be throwin' it in the way of someone you care about to keep them safe." his voice dropped as he spoke, "It takes time to figure out, and it's always a gamble. Took me years to figure out where the line of exhaustion and dyin' blurred."
"Time isn't a luxury that I have." Davian miserably said, "I've never been so underprepared before."
Gajeel watched him pick at his glove, wrapping a stray thread around his finger but unable to pull it as it was too short.
"You don't do so well with pain, either. You would think you'd have a high tolerance what with your scar, tattoo, things…"
"Yes, well, they weren't a choice, more an affliction." he spoke quietly, and it was almost drowned by the wind, "You've seen Orotrushit. Soon, I'll have more than him."
"Mmh," Gajeel breathed. He took a steadying breath and pulled out another cigarette, lit it. He didn't miss how Davian regarded him as he did, how his shoulders were now tense.
Gajeel's hands were shaking. He ran his thumb over the tips of each of his fingers, not so differently than Laxus two nights ago. Where his were strong and sure, Gajeel's were calloused, well-worn. Hesitantly, he held it out and refused to look at the chameleon as he did, "I can show you... what it's like to hit your body's limit. Just... don't go rooting around. I can't stand it."
Davian stared at him warily, "You're sure?"
"No." he took a drag from his cigarette.
Hesitantly, Davian removed the glove from his hand. Skin touched skin, and Gajeel felt a line snap taut between them. It zinged down his spine and he full-body shivered. He balled his hands into fists and pushed down the instinctive connection to Laxus, how he'd done something extremely similar just the other night…
"How in the name of Creation and Destruction would Laxus know how to do this?"
"Somethin'... somethin' to do with bioelectricity." he remembered watching Laxus eat lighting. The way it snapped around him and he couldn't contain the magic. He remembered feeling like he'd suffocate in the aura and rage of lightning-
Let it go... he told himself.
He forced himself to exhale. He could taste smoke. He could feel iron roll in his stomach, dredge its way up his throat. But he could stil calm down. He relaxed the tension in his shoulders. This... this wasn't a fight. Stop acting like it is.
What was something Davian could even relate to? The man was strong enough to rend his own iron, could heal quickly. But he wasn't made of magic and metal. Recalling the way Hellebore had breathed fire straight into his lungs probably meant nothing to him-
Davian's eyes blew wide. He could feel the terror from viewing Gajeel's memory.
-he had a lot of memories of hitting his body's limits. He could recognize what dying felt like by its many monikers, some self-taught, others inflicted upon him. Rage is useful, as it was when Oria had him pinned to the wall by his throat. He'd found a way to face the pain from the collar, to strike out with magic despite the anti-magic it incited, because of rage. But rage only lasts for so long. Like adrenaline, as soon as it filters away it leaves you empty and exhausted and in agony. When he'd broken the water main, he'd had to lay there and pray he didn't pass out because the searing pain from burning alive had caught up to him and he could barely breathe.
But the body can take a lot, his more so than others and Davian's probably even more since he didn't rely on a full stomach to heal faster. He remembered blood loss, listening to his heart trying not to give out. The pain of torture, of wounds opening and reopening and reopening and someone smiling while it happened. There was an instance when he was young, possibly even freshly eighteen, when Hajime had grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes and said "This one's the real deal, lad. You don't want caught by these guys."
"Sorta the point, ain't it?" he'd smirked at the time, full of hubris that can only exist with blissful ignorance.
"Now, lad, ye listen to me. They want information on Jose, and they're mighty good at gettin' what they want. But you an' me, we both know what happens to guys that rat on Jose-"
He'd had to mop blood off of the floor... and gore... and Jose smiled as he watched. Have you ever had to mop up a person before- Let. It. Go.
"If they catch you, I don't know how long it'll take me to find you." he hadn't realized why Hajime had looked so pale at the time, "You never stop lookin' fer a way out, ya hear? Ye don't stop fightin' until you get home. And you keep your lips shut tight."
He hadn't understood that this had been the whole point. Jose wanted him caught. He'd wanted to test his meddle, to see how far this little mongrel he'd caught would go for his master. He hadn't realized that Hajime was really saying you're either going to your death or you're going to come back out covered in blood. Please come back with blood. Let. It. Go.
He remembered being strapped to a chair. The knife was stainless steel and he hadn't mastered absorbing steel yet. The first time, he'd lasted five minutes before he'd passed out. They brought him back, delirious, and had a healer there to close the wounds. Then they started over, the whole time asking questions. Most of them he couldn't have answered if he wanted to, but in his head he kept track of the time. The next time he passed out, he made sure he lasted longer. Six minutes. Then eight. Ten. Twenty-five minutes before passing out. He kept track with a lullaby his dad used to sing him in the mountains, after he'd dug raw iron from the earth to eat.
In the hollow paths of the moor,
The black goblins, the werewolves,
In the night, in a saraband,
Chase one another like mad,
I hear a noise near the door,
Close your eyes, my little boy
The nasty werewolf takes away
The children who don't sleep
Sleep, my little man
For near the cradle your mommy
Watches over your light sleep
Till tomorrow, till tomorrow
Sleep
In the hollow paths of the moor,
The black goblins, the werewolves...
When you bleed out, your heart beats faster but not harder. It runs frantically but can't keep up because your blood pressure is dropping. You start to sweat. You feel dizzy. It always made Gajeel crave iron. He remembered counting cuts on his arms. He remembered blood. He remembered someone frowning as again he slumped forward, and this time he hadn't screamed. He felt nauseous and he blacked out... a cycle that kept repeating until one time he noticed a mistake. That's all it takes to get the upper edge. One mistake. One mistake, and Gajeel was very good at waiting for those. He was experienced with snapping restraints and converting pain into rage...
He remembered being beaten and left to die. He remembered pushing himself until his strength gave out and he passed out in a ditch. He remembered Jose taking out his anger. For a very, very long time, Gajeel had only had his body to his name. For a very, very long time, he'd pushed it to the brink of collapse and then kept pushing. He remembered every dreadfully hard lesson it had taught him, and he dredged them up like old photographs to be viewed and then haphazardly tossed back into a box. An entire lifetime of lessons from Phantom Lord funneled into just a few minutes. A lifetime of lessons from Fairy Tail. And when it was over, Davian was clutching at his chest and trying to breathe. Gajeel flexed his hands and the memories faded away. These, at least, he'd made peace with. They didn't bother him anymore.
He smoked. Tentatively at first, and then more surely, he let his hand rest on the Major's shoulder. He knew the shock of being green and new and learning something dreadful. He hated it, but he could sympathize. Maybe it wasn't just women's tears he was a sucker for. Broken things bothered him. He saw too much of himself reflected inside.
He turned his eyes back to the sky, still with a steady hand on the Major's back as he desperately tried to reign in his abject horror, and once again he started humming Cover Me in Roses.
"You are a terrifying man." Davian was saying, his voice in tatters.
"Twenty-six years in the making and still learning new things... somehow, still the hard way." Gajeel said.
"How do you live like this?" Davian was rubbing his eyes when he said it, "It's no wonder you feel the need to end it."
"A lotta booze, a lotta cigarettes, and a lot of one-night stands..." he paused and frowned as he thought, "Damn."
"What is it?"
"I use sex as a coping mechanism. Agh! Damn!" he leaned back into the bench again, this time balling his hands up in his hair, "Now I have to talk to Dr. Alexi about it, and then she's going to tell me some shit like I'm trying to fill a void, or I'm using sex to hide abandonment issues, or I need to cultivate my self-esteem and mindfulness. And I'll tell Laxus all of that, and he'll say something fucking stupid, like that's fine, baby, take it out on me whenever you want because he doesn't know how to live life unless he's lighting himself on fire to keep everyone around him warm."
"That... sounded quite mindful to me." Davian assuaged him, wiping another tear from his eye as some dubious emotion wrote itself across his face that Gajeel didn't really want to recognize.
"I'm trying so hard to be," he growled, "but sometimes I feel like every time I turn around there's something else wrong with me. Something else needs fixed."
"I couldn't possibly imagine why." Davian muttered, "But you've made progress. Even I can see that."
Gajeel let out his emotions in a huff, ran his hands down his face until he was grasping at his scarf. He quieted as he listened to the trees talking. For a while, they both just sat still and Gajeel tried to realign his mind before he had to face his therapist again, like he did every week.
"I have made progress." Gajeel stated. He was talking to himself, or the air, or future-Dr. Alexi. Davian's arms were crossed over his knees, and he was looking ahead and listening like he might be a friend. His eyes were yellow, and he only wore one glove, and he had the smallest of humble smiles on his face like he agreed, like he was enjoying this, like he could have cared. Gajeel found he suddenly couldn't shut up. It was like once it started, he couldn't keep it in anymore.
"A year ago, I would start to panic when he touched me. I would wake up from nightmares screaming and I was terrified lightning would strike me and kill me. A year ago, I told him I should kill myself because I was only going to drag him down with me, because I couldn't make him happy. A year ago, I wanted to kill myself. Not passively. Not because of cigarettes or alcohol. Not by recklessly throwing myself into the ocean just to feel some sense of control. I was going to jump off a cliff or slit my wrists or drink until I never woke up again. A year ago, the only reason why I didn't was because I felt bad for the person who would find me. I was scared that person would be Lily, or Juvia, or Laxus.
"I don't want to kill myself anymore." he sucked in a breath, closed his eyes, and let it out. He'd said it. He'd said it out loud. He'd said it out loud and someone else heard it and it didn't hurt. He felt relieved. He sat back against the bench and found himself staring up at the clouds, "I don't want to kill myself anymore."
He took another drag from his cigarette.
"That is good. I'm... I am happy for you."
Oh gods, he'd said that in a strange and personal way. Gajeel looked over at him and felt like an absolute fucking idiot. The Major's smile was still a small, unsure thing.
"Yeah... thanks." Gajeel said, passively, "You've changed a lot, too."
"Perhaps. Perhaps I've found it easier to be myself around very few people and learned in the process how terrifying it is to be seen. It is far easier to hide..." He said calmly, with all the inflection of understanding that Gajeel didn't appreciate from someone he couldn't stand, "Irena and Keirin, darlings, the both of them, to deal with me as they do. I've certainly invited them so much misfortune just by my proximity. It feels like a curse."
"Maybe it is."
"I do hope in the event that I can no longer be around, they'll keep each other. It would be a shame if they grew apart."
Gajeel's mind suddenly stopped, "Why would you say somethin' like that, Major?"
The Major's good demeanor hadn't changed but it felt like it should have. He shrugged simply but didn't elaborate.
"You know, I hadn't initially sought you out for advice. I found myself asking in hopes of an answer, of course, and dreading it. I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't given it to me and I... appreciate what you allowed me to see. It is useful to know, for a few different reasons. I digress. I had actually looked for you to apologize."
"Apologize?" Gajeel said, numbly.
"I have been cruel to you on more than one occasion. I don't expect forgiveness, but I did want to tell you I recognize it for what it was and that I know it was wrong and I'm… sorry."
"Irena get her hands on you?" Gajeel said a bit half-heartedly.
"If she could, I'm sure she would." The Major chuckled until the sound turned sour and ceased altogether, "All of this happening was so much easier for me when I despised you, or at least, when I thought I was better than you. And then Laxus had to speak highly of you, say dreadful things about being forced into bad situations and making the best decision for yourself. Still, I held onto the fact you were a murderer."
Gajeel was nervously flicking away his ashes. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.
"Why did you have to save me from Zahir? Why did you have to make me think? Why did you give me advice, more than once, when it's so clear you hate me? Why wouldn't you just leave me to suffer on my own? Isn't that the right thing to do when someone has caused you so much harm?"
Gajeel suddenly felt a bit chilly in the gusting wind. He watched the way Davian's easy smile disappeared and he, too, was staring up at the sky. The moon was out in the daytime sky and it was the waxing gibbous.
"Something bad is about to happen, isn't it?" Gajeel asked.
"The equinox is approaching. I can feel the pull of it in my bones." The Major's voice was somewhere off in the dancing clouds, "There is a weight to it this time... like death holding its breath right before the rebirth of something dreadful. I just wish I knew why."
This time it was Davian's turn to nervously run his fingers through his hair, or rather, over it. Gajeel noticed his hands were shaking.
"I know it is foolish to hope that you won't be involved. Oros knows you've been through enough. I'm still trying to figure it all out, but I can't stop something if I don't know what it is." he said, still staring at the moon, "In the end, it is the same as when it all started. I'm just mitigating as much collateral damage as I can."
Davian looked at him, then, and it spoke volumes the way his eyes ran down the exposed scars on Gajeel's arms, how they rested on his hands. It was a fearful look, one of a man who had braved the waves of the sea and in his hubris had broken past the boundary only to be faced with a new wave cresting, gazing upon it, and realizing now that he'd gone too far and would not survive what was imminently coming. He could not survive the mighty and well-practiced hands that he had only just moments before casually touched. They knew how to draw blood and had proven that time did not weather the point of that blade dull. It remained sharp and could be, would be, wielded again with finality.
"I want to be angry with you for threatening me. I want to hate you, because I know if it comes down to a fight between you and I, you will win. But I can't. If Irena were hurt, if it were Keirin? If I had the ability to do it, I wouldn't stop until I'd taken my penance in meat and blood..." his voice was shaking, and he was looking at the heavens again, "I can't even ask for you to be merciful, at this point. I can only beg you please remember that I'm not the one who wants this, whatever it is that's coming, I don't want anyone else hurt. I am trying my best to stop it."
He took in a shivering breath, "I'm trying my best… I just don't think it's enough."
Gajeel watched him as he quietly despaired. He flicked his ashes into the air. The sun was fighting not to be covered by clouds. All at once, the warmth of its rays were covered, and then a moment later it revealed itself again, scattering away the chill of the wind. Gajeel took a deep breath in and let his head rest back against his shoulders. He closed his eyes, tasting the scent of the sea, of the desert, of the fear of the man beside him. When he breathed out again, he opened his eyes to watch the leaves shivering in the wind and pretended that his bones weren't cramped with the sensation to just run.
"It's a beautiful day, Major," he said as he finished his cigarette. He could feel Davian's eyes, the disbelief etched in every part of his body, the lack of understanding. Gajeel sighed and gave him a meaningful look, "You should enjoy it… while it lasts."
Gajeel flicked his cigarette butt into the grass and found himself humming Cover Me In Roses.
He had been right. Maelia had been beside herself, although she hid it frightfully well. No one else seemed to notice that past the smile she kept stringently fixed to her face, she was nearly boiling with tension. Gajeel noticed it in her lack of movement, in the way she chose a seat closest to the door. She had Silvana and Thomas on either side of her as well, talking gently about where she could stay and if she felt safe and what they'd do if they got their hands on her ex. Gajeel stayed out of it because truly he didn't have a savior complex. He did however take just a little longer after their therapy session was over, pretending to mull over Alexi's words – about how perhaps he put himself in danger unnecessarily as a way for him to atone for self-perceived sins, an observation that Gajeel vehemently disagreed with... for now – just to catch her as she left. She was nervous, because of course she was nervous. How couldn't she be when she knew Gajeel was an ex-criminal and was as imposing as he was?
"Really, I'm fine," she'd said politely, reflexively, that smile barely wavering. He'd held up his hands in an honest way.
"I know. I just wanted to say, I... understand... how you're feeling. Sometimes people think they're helping when really you don't want to think about bad shit for a while..." he paused, nervously scratching at the back of his head before trying to string together something casual, "I'm headed to the prison. Part of Serrill's inmate anti-suicide thing. If you're goin' that way, we can walk together. You can listen to me gripe about how stiff the other cadets are... and you'd have scary dog privilege."
Her perfectly tailored smile softened into something a bit more relieved, "Scary dog privilege?"
"You know, when you can walk where ya want because you have a scary dog beside you." He shrugged and smirked, cocking a brow at her good-humoredly as he motioned to himself, "Have ya looked at me lately? Scary dog."
She'd laughed until it started to die a little in her throat and she was made to wipe a tear away. Sheepishly, she said, "You um... you don't know any good drama, do you?"
"Aw hell, my boyfriend back home told me everything I missed while I was away. His ex-girlfriend is the bartender and a real gossip, ya know? She tells him all the juicy shit happening. Have you heard of Natsu Dragneel? This fucking idiot..."
Eventually, he made his way to the prison. Serrill had a couple more guys who were on the crisis list, and Gajeel went to them as he was instructed to. The reaction was always interesting whenever he walked into a cell to sit down with whoever was on watch. Even the guys who didn't know Gajeel from his past as Kurogane were astounded to find out the man who fought like mad to survive Zahir was somehow suicidal for most of his life. Why would you fight like that if you secretly wanted to die? A valid question, and it came with an almost-valid answer. Pride.
Eventually, he ended up in Zahir's cell. It was always his last stop before he left, mostly because he spent the most time here. Zahir wasn't like the others. He didn't get to go outside. The prison was still in too much of a state of disrepair for it to be allowed, and they needed Freed to come out again to shore up all the gaps in his runes. This time, though, as Gajeel approached and entered, he noticed something about the glimmering of the runes around his cell. He didn't dwell on it too long, because he knew he was about to be stuck with the man, but... well...
It was after about an hour before Zahir's prattling slowed to a halt. They were sitting side-by-side on his bunk, as they always did, with their knees touching. Despite how Zahir had pulled his heat inwards, Gajeel still found it best to keep his scales up. Being in his proximity was still stifling, like sitting uncomfortably close to a bonfire.
"You seem a little less chatty today," he said slyly, "Wear out that voice of yours?"
"Hm?" Gajeel's brow furrowed.
"Oh please," Zahir rolled his eyes, "You're wearing a scarf."
"It was chilly today."
"Is it?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively, and a swell of heat bloomed so intensely that Gajeel choked, "Is it still?"
"He don't like people knowing his business," Gajeel smirked, "It was a fine excuse for everyone else."
"I'm sure..." he said, flipping his hair to one shoulder and hunching over so that his cheek rested in his palm. He was staring intently forward, "Was it nice?"
"Was what nice?"
"Having sex with your Laxus," he said bluntly, but it didn't sound like prying. It sounded genuine, and of course he knew why. Everyone Zahir had ever touched, he'd burned.
"I... guess..." Gajeel said slowly, studying him. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried not to grimace.
"Oh, don't make yourself uncomfortable. I was only curious-"
"You can't tell anyone. I have a reputation, yanno."
Violet eyes turned to him and he smiled in a way that to anyone else would look cruel, but Gajeel was accustomed to by now, "Please... you're the only company I'm allowed. Well, you and whoever is delivering my food in a given day. Who am I going to tell?"
"No one's ever made love to me before." at Zahir's look, he elaborated, "Sex I've had a lot. Probably too much. But no one has ever... I don't..."
He huffed, floundering for words. Zahir laughed a bit even though his smile slipped away. He seemed... thoughtful.
"He told me last night he thought I was beautiful, that bastard. He's said it before but, fuck's sakes, he was raised by his grandfather. He's a traditional man who taught him to love a traditional woman, and that's what you say when you love someone like that. You tell them they're beautiful even if you don't really mean it, because you want them to feel nice about themselves. But that asshole decided he wasn't going to stop until I believed him. I'm fucking stubborn but apparently, I don't hold a candle to him."
"He does seem like the sort who gets his way once he makes up his mind," Zahir said slowly, as if he were afraid he'd offend him.
"He is... I guess." Gajeel sighed, picking at his scarf, "You know... when I moved to Fairy Tail, everyone remembered the guy who destroyed the guild. To this day, Jet is bothered when I don't cover my accent and Levy gets nervous when my scales come out because she can see my talons and it reminds her of when I branded her with Phantom Lord's image and crucified her on a tree. I changed to look less threatening because that made sense. Hide my accent, try not to smile too wide, too much, don't show my teeth, don't show my talons, try not to stare too hard because then people would be forced to look me in the eyes. Try not to crave violence or enjoy the taste of blood in my mouth. Try to be normal, enjoy life, don't be... myself. Try to be good.Be someone a little softer, a little less harsh, less angry with a level head; be someone a good man could be described as being even if none of it is real. Even if it's all just a show... And now, here he comes and fucking wrecks house, turns everything upside down."
"Really?" Zahir asked, goading him onward. At this point, Gajeel didn't need encouragement. He was just spilling his guts to everyone today, it seemed. He stared down at his hands, at glimmering talons. When he closed them and opened them again, the metal clinked like chainmail as it moves.
"He likes it when I tear into him, because he likes that I can't help myself. He likes my eyes and my accent and my teeth and my claws and the fact that I'm some half-feral animal from the woods. And he says shit like it's beautiful. And he loves it. And he loves me. For some reason. Like we're equals. Like he's not fucking perfect. Like he didn't earn the name Thunder God while I was called Black Steel my whole life. He said I was an animal, and I've heard that word so many times in my life but never as a good thing. It's a bad thing. It means I can't control myself and I give in to things I shouldn't and I crave blood and I hurt people... and he loves me. He doesn't love me despite the fact that I have these intense impulses that I don't understand, but because of them. He doesn't look past my teeth and claws and blood-red eyes and see the man underneath; he sees it and says shit like it looks like the end of the world and he thinks it's beautiful. Who…? Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck would do that to me?"
Gajeel shook his head, slowly at first and then more fervently in disbelief. He buried his face in his hands for a moment before taking a breath and looking at Zahir again.
"My whole life, no one has ever wanted me without strings attached. I'm iron, I'm Black Steel. You don't just pull me out of the ground and keep me like some sort of gemstone. I'm only wanted for my utility; I'm only kept as long as I'm functioning like I should or else I'm melted down and made into somethin' else." Gajeel took a second to steady himself, to force a crooked smile, "I've never been loved unconditionally before. It's fucking terrifying."
The corner of Zahir's lip pulled up a bit, "And here I thought you were just going to brag about how you were in bed."
Gajeel chuckled a bit, "He'd kill me."
"I'd avenge you, darling," Zahir said smoothly, eyes lolling back towards the entrance to his cell.
"I appreciate that..." Gajeel said, following his gaze, "So... you gonna be here next week or should I be sayin' goodbye?"
"It was a moment of weakness. I'm not going to..."
"That ain't what I'm talkin' bout, and you know it." Gajeel interrupted him, dropping his voice lower, "Ya think you can walk through the market without catchin' the carts on fire?"
The good nature was gone from Zahir, and he refused to look back at Gajeel, "Does it matter?"
"It does if you don't wanna get caught."
Zahir's eyelids fluttered shut, "Perhaps setting the carts on fire would keep people distracted long enough to get away."
"Right, yeah... course there's still the sea to worry about. Things get tough for you, yeah? When your fire gets put out? And autumn's comin'. The mist will practically be permanent around Ember Isle soon. Ya know your way without the ferry?"
"I can't live like this," Zahir hissed, "I can't be a prisoner. It's all I've ever been, in one way or another."
"How small can you make yourself, Zahir? Can you live a normal life if you leave?"
"Kurogane..." he began, anger tinging his voice, "I can't be a prisoner for the rest of my life."
"If you're just going to get out here and kill everyone you touch, how long do you think it'll be before they hunt you down and drag you back? Or are you just hoping they kill you in the process?" Gajeel asked, and that gave Zahir pause.
"You're not... trying to convince me to stay?" he chanced a glance around his curtain of violet hair, looking over at him suspiciously.
"Why would I? This place is hell," Gajeel breathed, "From the moment I stepped in here I had Laxus tryin' to figure out how to get me out. I was tryin' to be smart about things. Patient. But... you gotta at least get it under control first. Otherwise ye ain't gonna be out of here for long."
The two fell into silence, and for a while Gajeel thought maybe that was his sign to leave. But then he began to feel the heat ebb out of the air. Zahir was concentrating, the veins on the side of his neck that pulsed violet began to pulse fainter until Gajeel could no longer see them at all. Finally, Gajeel took a breath and didn't feel like he was standing next to a boiler. The man beside him cringed when a green magic circle appeared beneath them, and iron scales disappeared.
"You might not want to do that."
Gajeel's stomach twisted, but he reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He was almost unbearably hot to the touch, like handling a stone that had been sitting by the edge of a campfire, like the time Zahir had shaken his hand in the courtyard, saying he would call on him and to make the right choice. He wondered briefly what sort of magic the man had to have been infused with to burn internally the way he did. Even Natsu had to activate his magic to turn himself livid to the touch. For Zahir, it seemed the opposite.
"How long can you keep that up?" Gajeel asked.
"Hours... possibly even a couple days," he said, although there was a strain to his voice that there hadn't been previously, "But when it returns... its explosive."
"Ah..." that made sense. He'd heard later that when the riot broke out, it had been an explosion caused by Zahir that had started everything. He must have let his magic snap back, "You born this way?"
"The cult my mother was a part of, The Communion of Radiance, worshiped an old fire demon, Igmallad. Not one of Zeref's demons, mind you, older. Their union meant my body held some of the demon's DNA, so it could withstand his power to an extent. They infused me with the demon's spark when I was a young child, before I can remember, so I might as well have been born this way." Zahir was staring at his hands as he spoke, "The ancient demon is powerful, but the tradeoff is control. The hotter I burn, the harder it is to control the heat; at my core I am a human, not a demon and eventually, it'll burn me up. I'll combust like a dying star, and the aftermath will probably level everything for miles."
"Shit... any idea when that's gonna happen?" Gajeel asked.
"No. But I suppose I'll feel it, won't I? I can only assume..." he sighed.
"Well... shit," Gajeel said, "I'm sorry."
"You may want to pull back up your scales."
The heat surged back up to its usual fervor, and Gajeel tried not to snap his hand back from the sudden burn. Zahir was resting his face in his hands, staring at his cell door.
"At the rate I'm going, it'll still take a few months before I'll be able to completely burn through the runes. In the meantime, I'll try to learn to be... small." Zahir said slowly, "As small as I can. Not that it matters. You're still the only person I've ever touched that didn't burn... and you're in love with your Laxus."
"I'm sure I'm not the only person in Fiore," Gajeel chuckled, "Maybe there's another fire demon kicking around?"
"Oh yes, and I'm sure they also happen to be gay," he rolled his eyes.
"Or bi... you know..."
Zahir gave him an unamused look.
"You'll find someone who can handle you and all yer issues, I'm sure. Maybe just don't breathe fire down their throat when you kiss 'em. Not on the first date, anyway."
Despite his soured mood, Zahir smiled, "Oh, is that what I did wrong, darling? It wasn't my Gahenna Gate? Or blowing up the mess hall?"
"I about ate my cigarette when you did that," Gajeel confessed.
"You did?" he said, amused, "You seemed so unimpressed."
"I had realized I wasn't strong enough to beat you before, but that sorta sealed the deal for me. Woulda killed me in a second if it weren't for Serrill."
"I would have... wouldn't I?" his voice sounded a bit far away, "Perhaps, the next I see him, I should thank him. Despite being stuck here... I've enjoyed our talks. I'll miss them when I no longer have them..." his shot Gajeel a sly smile, "Unless you'd like to tell me where you live?"
"As much as the idea of you and Laxus fighting over me boosts my ego? I'd rather not."
"Scared he'll lose?"
"Yeah... sure... that's what I am." Gajeel muttered, remembering how it looked when Laxus descended from the heavens furious. Had he been quite as pale when he'd done that? Gajeel hadn't really been paying attention. He'd had other things on his mind at the time... like surviving fire and desperately trying to keep his heat cycle at bay.
"Is something the matter?" Zahir asked, sensing his sudden tension.
"Someone told me something bad is going to happen soon... the more I think about it, the more I worry Laxus is going to be sucked into the middle of it." Gajeel said quietly.
"Something makes me think you shouldn't worry too much," Zahir snuffed, "He's perfectly capable of handling himself."
"He's been pale lately... and when I was home, I found out he took one of my knives. I decided to sharpen it for him, ta make sure he didn't hurt himself. While I was lookin' for it, I found a magic deficiency potion."
Violet eyes shivered, "Did he seem ill?"
"No but... why would he have it?"
"Has he suffered from it before? Maybe it's left over from some other time." Zahir mused, "I'm sure it's nothing."
"What if it's not? What if he's just not telling me because he doesn't want to worry me? He'd do shit like that, you know. He likes to keep his business to himself because he thinks everyone else has enough going on, they don't need his shit on top of it. He's turning into his grandfather; tryin' to fix everyone else's problems while ignoring his own. Or, maybe not ignoring it, but definitely not askin' for help."
"Why don't you ask him? Once you get home?"
"I think I will..." he said at last, "I wasn't goin' to, I was going to respect his privacy but..."
"But then someone told you something bad was going to happen?" Zahir turned just a bit derisive, "You didn't seem the superstitious kind."
"I'm not. Not usually. But someone's been after me for a while now, and they know who Laxus is and what he means to me. What's to stop them from going after him to get to me?" Gajeel's voice dropped low as he spoke. He didn't realize he'd begun clenching his fists, "I'm gettin' paranoid, bein' away from home so long. I'm waitin' for the time I come home and he's gone."
"Gajeel... please," Zahir said smoothly, in a way that Gajeel knew was meant to soothe him, but somehow didn't, "To be perfectly blunt? Your Laxus took me down in less than five minutes, and from what I've heard, he didn't stop because he got tired. Whatever it is that you're afraid of? Maybe they could catch you easily, or even kill you easily. But you and your Laxus are two different calibers of wizards. If I were you, I think, I'd be far more worried about myself."
"Yeah… yeah, you're right." Gajeel said, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he forced out the words, not believing them even as he said them, "I'm just worrying too much."
The sun was starting to set when Gajeel walked Maelia to the train station. She was stationed a few towns away at another base and wasn't very worried about making her way there on her own, and so it wasn't long before he found himself leaning against a wall, waiting for his train to come by. He heard familiar voices on the wind and was surprised to see Serrill walking up with Ashby close to his side. The younger man was talking excitedly, motioning with his hands. Serrill smiled politely, though it was clear he wanted to be anywhere else. Maybe that was why when his steely eyes alighted on him, Gajeel didn't turn his head away to mind his own business. Instead, he raised a studded brow and flashed his eyes between the two of them. Serrill grimaced and quickly covered it with a smile.
"Oh hey! Thanks for waiting!" Serrill called.
Gajeel schooled an unamused look just before Ashby looked over to him, confusion written on the cadet's face. Recognition, disdain, and then bafflement as he realized that Serrill was talking to him. Gajeel gave them both a half-hearted wave.
"Might wanna hurry, Liutenant. The train will be here soon," Gajeel drawled.
"Right. I hope you have a good time on leave, Ashby."
"We're off duty, Keirin. Call me Jaco," he laughed, stopped, stared at Gajeel one more time, and then bade them both farewell.
"Jaco..." Gajeel hummed as Serrill let out a tense breath and slumped against the wall next to him, "He looks like a Jaco."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Serrill asked, eyeing Gajeel as he took out a cigarette.
"Exactly what I said." he replied and offered the pack to Serrill. To his surprise, the lieutenant accepted one.
"Do I look like a Keirin?" Serrill mused aloud.
"Doesn't it mean dark one or somethin'?" Gajeel wrinkled his nose.
"Little dark one... or black-haired."
"And yer blonde-haired and blue-eyed?" he took a dreg, "No."
"So..." he began slowly, "I saw you walk Maelia to the office. She doing... ok?"
"I think she's tired of people making sure she's ok," Gajeel sighed, "Which I get. I told her about drama at my guild. Seemed to take her mind off things."
"You really are just a big softie under all that, aren't you? I thought maybe you just had a soft spot for your boyfriend but nope, you really care." Serrill's smile was as nervous as a moth trapped on the wrong side of a screen door, "And here I was always told Kurogane from Phantom Lord was just a cold-blooded killer, and you were so intimidating in Ember Isle... and now you're doing things like summoning your iron scales so I feel better being around Zahir's cell, going out of your way to make people feel better."
"Watch it," Gajeel warned, "Don't act like Lieutenant Serrill isn't a different man than Keirin is right now."
"You got me there. Can't really show weakness around the boys at the prison, can you?" Serrill was still smiling, although a bit more reticently. He winced suddenly, and took a moment to straighten out his prosthesis, shaking it almost as if he were trying to awaken a sleeping limb, "Fuck... that doesn't feel right..."
The sound of the train horn blew and Gajeel perked up, "Ah... that's me."
"I'm actually boarding as well," Serrill said, "The lady who's helping me with my arm is in Magnolia. I'm set to see her and hopefully get this sorted out... finally."
"Really?" Gajeel asked, looking at him from the side of his eye, "Would it happen to be Porlyusica?"
"Yeah, actually," Serrill gave him a bit of a look, "I heard she was the best in Fiore."
"Don't know 'bout all that, but she's a damn good healer... she did do Erza's eye," Gajeel muttered, taking one last drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out, "She's sort of the unofficial healer of my guild."
"Huh. Small world."
They boarded and ended up choosing seats together. They both had selected to sit compartment coach, and so ended up choosing to sit together. Maybe it was the fact that they were travelling so late in the day, but no one chose to sit with them and so the two men could stretch out as they pleased. Gajeel was plucking mint leaves fresh from the stem when the horn sounded for the last call to board, and soon after the whole thing shuddered. Gajeel gritted his teeth and patiently chewed on leaves until the train made speed.
"So..." he said when his gut finally stopped churning, "Ashby is... nice."
Serrill blinked at him, "I guess."
"I was a little put off by our first meetin', how uptight he was. He was real protective of you, come to think of it." Gajeel watched Serrill's reaction, the slow march of confusion across his face until it finally dawned on him what Gajeel was getting at.
"Oh... no. No. He's... he's very young." Serrill laughed and it seemed bashful, "He's fresh out of basic. He can't be more than twenty years old. I'd practically be robbing the cradle."
"How old are you?" Gajeel asked casually, crossing his arms as he finally settled into his seat, "You don't look a day over twenty-five."
"I'm almost thirty," his smile was like frost on a windowpane, cold and charming, "and I'm flattered by Ashby's... attention... but I don't need to date another person with daddy issues."
As soon as he said it, though, his smile wavered.
"You... like someone else with daddy issues?" Gajeel smirked, "Someone I know?"
He wouldn't have pressed, honestly, if Serrill had said no and left it at that. It was the fact that he winced that got his attention.
"Oh," Gajeel said keenly, "Are they taken?"
"If that were all," Serrill managed through tight lips, "They're both taken, and one of them ah... outranks me. We're allowed to date laterally as long as we're not in the same unit, or if we were dating prior to being assigned to the same unit and it doesn't compromise morale. Fraternizing can have some serious consequences... and you know Major Bishop. He's cultivated a reputation for following rules to the letter."
It was the fact that he said Major Bishop instead of Davian that stuck out to him. Gajeel knew they were closer than just officer to subordinate, even if that wasn't really allowed.
"Yeah, but you guys are close? You don't think he'd turn a blind eye?" Gajeel pried as gently as he could manage, but now he was intrigued. Out of all the musings he'd heard Serrill read aloud in group therapy, he'd never mentioned having feelings for anyone, and he wasn't exactly shy about any other aspect of his life. He would have figured at least the other person he had feelings for would have been mentioned, if the other officer wasn't.
Serrill cleared his throat, and Gajeel could see blush beginning to creep up his face. He wouldn't look him in the eye when he said, "Maybe we should talk about something else."
"Oh shit... it is someone I know," Gajeel smirked, and at Serrill's uneasy look he started to process, "They're both people I know?"
"Gajeel, listen, I really don't want a lot of people knowing-"
"Who in the hell do I know around here that's a civilian? Who in the hell do I know that outranks you?" Gajeel sobered, watching Serrill's discomfort, and then quite suddenly his discomfort made a lot of sense, "It's… it's Irena and Major Bishop... you like Irena and Major Bishop? Both of them?"
"...Yeah..." Serrill said at long length, looking resigned and a bit ashamed, "Yep. Sure do."
"How do you get a crush on a couple?" Gajeel asked with a bit of a chuckle, trying to keep him in good humor.
Serrill's face flushed and he shrank back into his seat, not meeting his eyes. "It wasn't intentional, but I guess these things seldom are. Davian and I didn't work closely until my promotion. He and Irena separated prior to our reassignment to Ember Isle, so I didn't… it was fine at the time. But while I was in the infirmary after the riot, Irena tracked him down and they made up? Of course, I didn't know that. When I was released, I was bored and on a medical leave so I went to go see if I could catch Davian and maybe go to lunch, but Irena was there. We talked and she's so kind... and beautiful…"
He shrank back into his seat a little, "At your welcome home party that we accidentally crashed? We both got really drunk. I might have confessed my feelings to her, a little… about both of them. But she hasn't said anything about it since so I'm hoping she was too drunk to remember. I'd prefer Davian not figure any of it out... if it's all the same... to you... I don't want to ruin our friendship."
Gajeel was sort of taken aback by that. He recalled something the Major had said, about both Irena and Serrill being darlings for putting up with him. He certainly wasn't going to be mentioning it to Serrill because he didn't want the lieutenant looking too much into it in case the Major had meant it strictly platonically. He didn't make assumptions about people's relationships other than what he could see and smell on his own, and he hadn't learned anything from that. But well... hadn't the Major also said he'd kill anyone who came after her or Keirin?
It probably took him way too long to respond, because Serrill seemed to be stewing, "Yeah, Serrill, shit, I won't breathe a word. Me and the Major ain't exactly friends, you know."
"You're not?" Serrill asked, at first relieved and then cocking his head to the side, perplexed, "But... he really stuck out his neck getting you out of Ember Isle. And he seems pretty friendly with Laxus so I assumed..."
"The Major and I's relationship is... complicated," Gajeel said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, "He might have stuck his neck out to get me out of prison but... I wouldn't have been in prison if it weren't for him."
His steel-grey eyes bored into him, lacking understanding, "Well, the Unaven case... we, I, found him and the evidence at the time indicated..."
"I didn't kill Unaven," Gajeel said as calmly as he could manage. He licked his lips, "You're the one who found him? Pinned to the wall?"
"I... did. Or, no, I didn't..." he stopped, furrowing his brow, concentrating. "I was... there? It's all a little... fuzzy..."
Gajeel's eyes widened. Had Davian... used his touch on Serrill?
"It was pretty chaotic," Gajeel said smoothly, "A lot of shit was on fire, I'm pretty sure, and you were rounding up a lot of Risers."
"Right, but I had gone up the stairs to look for Davian because we were getting scattered. The Risers were breaking for it and he's specialized in strategy. So, I went back up to ask for orders... and I saw Unaven pinned to the wall with your iron bands..."
"Right... and someone had managed to wrench one free and stab Unaven with it. Had to have been someone really strong, uh... probably." Gajeel wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to hide the truth from Serrill but... he felt bad. He had mixed feelings about Major Bishop now, and he didn't like how distressed the man across from him seemed.
Serrill's eyes suddenly snapped wide. Gajeel clicked his teeth, watching the haze he'd been under dissipate and clarity enter Serrill's storm cloud gaze. His mind was processing something very quickly. The lieutenant was sharp, which Gajeel well knew by now, and he looked up at Gajeel with dawning realization.
"He framed you. He framed you for Unaven's murder?"
"Yes..." Gajeel said slowly.
"Why?" he asked, incredulous.
"It can't be enough that I was a mercenary for Phantom Lord who never got caught?" Gajeel tried to make it sound impartial, like none of it bothered him, but Serrill was already nearly beside himself at this point, "I mean, fuck, Serrill. How well do you know the guy?"
His brow furrowed, then, and he was pinning him with his intimidating stare, "How well do you know him?"
Gajeel took as deep a breath he could manage and let it out. Anxiety. It could literally mean anything. Tasting it in the air around Serrill wasn't a surprise, especially since his world seemed to have just shattered, at least in reguards to Major Bishop. Gajeel held the lieutenant's gaze, looking from one eye to the other. Gajeel's close examination of him seemed to startle him, but he didn't exactly want to out Davian if Serrill didn't already know what he was…
"You've met his brother." Gajeel stated, "He broke your arm... recently."
Serrill blinked, "How do you know about that?"
"Have you met Erandi?" Gajeel asked. Serrill's lips twitched and Gajeel let out a breath, "I was the one who brought him to the Major. He told me about it then."
"You know... what he is." Serrill said.
"And so do you, so I'm ain't breaking that news, at least," Gajeel sighed, "I killed his half-sister."
"The Ulrich case? The one he obsessesover...? That was you?" Serrill blanched, and then became extremely still.
"Yeah…" he could tell that Serrill was lining things up in his head, things he had mentioned cryptically in therapy for this very reason.
"Oh."
"He's obsessed with the case?" Gajeel asked, trying to seem uninterested, "Still?"
"Yeah, I… damn, I'm sorry. I wish I'd paid more attention now. I just… well her whole case was just..."
"I'm surprised you don't know… more…" Gajeel said, remembering the binders and books stacked everywhere in the dining room.
"Oh, oh, no. No. Ah, I asked once if he wanted a second pair of eyes on the case, you know, to add another perspective to it. He said he couldn't for confidentiality reasons. He doesn't… talk about it… with anyone. Not even Irena; not that she'd even be interested in that sort of thing." Serrill said, reassuringly, "He's done this kind of thing before. He'll pick up side cases on top of what he's already assigned if he thinks he can get to the bottom of something. And he's extremely professional… or, I thought he was…"
"He didn't frame me, Serrill, because it was his idea. Someone told him to, and he didn't feel he had a choice. I'm tryin'… to let go of my grudge. You don't have to justify anything. It's… fine." Gajeel forced out through gritted teeth, "Like I said, it's complicated."
"It sounds like it," Serrill said, not meeting his gaze.
"I've met his brother, the one that busted up your arm?" Gajeel found himself pulling out his cigarettes and fiddling with one, considering lighting it, "He seems like a real piece of work."
"I could barely do anything against him. He touched me and suddenly my magic didn't work anymore..." Serrill said darkly, "And I think, somehow, I've run into him before. I remember that strange way he smiled… he collapsed my lung and it was like he knew to do it because he'd met me before. Somehow he knew it was a weakness he could exploit."
Serrill saying that, something about it, made a vivid memory click into place, of Ezal and the prison riot. A hollow needle.
"Shit. He was the guy pretending to be Ezal. He fixed your lung during the prison riot." Gajeel said, "He was there."
Serrill stared into him again in that intimidating way his eyes did. They bored into him as he thought deeply, putting things together that had never even occurred to Gajeel.
"He saved my life… to save Davian's." He stated, and Gajeel couldn't hide his dismay.
"How ya gettin' all that?" Gajeel breathed.
"Davian told me he's dangerous because he can see the future. It's the reason he's so scared of him. So, he would have seen the future of the prison riot. He would have known Davian would come to stop Zahir. And then he'd know that Davian would lose because Zahir is an S-Class wizard. So, he needed someone who could take the hits for him." His gaze was leveling Gajeel into his seat, "He showed up to save my life, to bolster your armor, to save Davian… and then he knew that Davian would try to save my life. He'd know it would almost kill him. So he killed Ezal to take his heart to save Davian… again."
"You… he… what?"
"When Zahir's whip hit my chest, it… burned everything. My lung immediately collapsed again. The stress it put my heart under… The doctors were giving me weeks to live, maybe years if I was behind a desk." he shook his head, "Davian, the ritual he did, was supposed to repair the damage. The rituals that he usually messes with don't involve healing? He did something wrong and it swapped our hearts instead. It ate up my arm, and he had a heart attack that I would have had. Davian ended up needing a heart transplant as well."
"And you're trying to tell me Orotrushit planned all of that?" Gajeel breathed, clenching his fists, "No one could plan all of that."
"You could if you could see the future… if your only job was trying to do anything to accomplish one goal," Serrill stated, nodding as he believed his own determination even more, "If you had nothing else to do."
"How much do you know…?" Gajeel began but then quickly amended the question, "…about the Ulrich case?
"Not much, if I'm honest. It was one I didn't care to learn about," he admitted a bit timidly, "I was asked to review the footage one of her acquaintances was trying to sell for evidence. They wanted me to give a deposition of what was on it in order to secure a conviction without forcing a jury to actually watch them since they're so… graphic." he shook his head, "I asked the Davian to do it. I got a few minutes in and just… I just couldn't stomach it."
"Yeah… I'm sure not a lot of people can." Gajeel said, and Serrill's eyes opened in alarm.
"I'm, ah, sorry. I didn't mean-"
"Serrill, it's fine." Gajeel soothed him, before attempting to change the subject. He ended up lighting his cigarette, though, "I was just wonderin' since you were so quick with puttin' all that about Orotrushit together. I'm surprised you ended up a lieutenant. A mind as sharp as yours could take you anywhere."
"Being a lieutenant wasn't my first choice. I originally wanted to go the direction Davian pursued. Become a detective first and then make my way up the ranks," he sighed, "The promotion sort of landed in my, well, both our laps. From what I understand, the previous officer up for the Ember Isle promotion was pushed into early retirement, so they gave it to Davian instead. He just happened to have been putting in a commendation for my promotion when he found out, so they moved us both. I've always been pretty good with putting pieces together… figuring things out."
He shrugged, "I don't mind being trained to run the prison, though. The hazard pay certainly makes it hard to turn down."
They lapsed into silence as Gajeel finished his cigarette. Serrill's dark blonde hair fell into his face a bit, like he hadn't had a haircut in just a bit too long. He seemed to be thinking hard on something. Gajeel was content to let him keep those thoughts to himself, so before Serrill could gather himself together enough to ask him any other questions, he languidly leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and shoot the other man a toothy grin.
"What?" Serrill asked hesitantly.
"So... how were you gonna shoot your shot? You just planning on taking Major Bishop to lunch and asking him out?"
He blushed bright scarlet, "I wasn't-! That would be fraternizing. He's my commanding officer."
"Alright then, what about Irena? What'd she say when you drunkenly confessed your feelings?" Gajeel knew he was all teeth but he couldn't help it. He enjoyed teasing Serrill. It made up for all the times he'd razzed him about his dreadful poetry.
He crossed his arms and stared pointedly out the window, "She might have said that she'd kiss me if Davian was fine with it... and then she offered to ask him."
Gajeel blinked a few times, "Well that certainly ain't a rejection."
"They're in a serious relationship," Serrill said, dismayed, "I talked her out of it."
"How do ya know they're not inta that kind of thing? Unicorns, and all that," Gajeel made quotations with his fingers when he said unicorn and Serrill barked out a laugh.
"Then you heard what I said, I'm not going to date another person with daddy issues," Serrill said, rolling his eyes, "There's a lot about Davian I still don't know, but I do know he has those. All ultra-religious people do."
"What about Irena? Does she have daddy issues?" Gajeel asked slyly.
"I need a better poker face." Serrill mumbled, "I never should have let you find out."
"Aw, don't be like that, Serrill," Gajeel grinned, "You never know. I could be a great wingman.
Serrill just groaned in response.
Author's Notes:
I'm not posting a chapter while working from home. You are.
Fun fact, I actually made a map to track like, how long it would take. It's like a 15 hour train ride from Ember Island to Magnolia. That's why it's a 3 day trip. He takes the train the day before therapy, the next day goes to therapy, and then takes the late train home, arriving in Magnolia the 3rd day. We're going to pretend therapy is just super unavailable in their world.