Hello!
I'm sorry for the long wait, especially for everyone who has already caught up to the last chapter. Now, finally, most of my exams are over and I feel too relaxed about the last one and will just get right back into writing instead of studying :D
Mitzy123, thank you so much for taking the time to write me a review on each chapter; I'm more than happy to see you're back! (found out that you don't actually see this cute smiles of circonflexe accents so you'll have to imagine it being here) Thank you so much for cheering me on - also for the mention of Erza at the trial cause I wasn't sure how it'd come across. And keeping track of the character development.
pilikali, thank you so much for leaving me such a long review! I'm so glad you liked all of those things; makes me proud to have written them!
Mikasa-Chan, you made me google college final age out of interest and wow that got me nowhere xD but I suppose I know the feeling - exams, finals... been there, done that (more or less enthusiastically ':D). I hope they went well and you're content with your achievements! I actually forgot that, too xDxD but you're (as well as many others) right, of course, they will have to reveal it quite soon or stay cooped up forever... almost forgot, thank you for your review(s)!
Isanien, thank you so much for your reviews! All of them are so lovely, I wouldn't know where to start but just know that I appreciate them all a ton and that I'm so grateful for all the time and effort you put into commenting on each and every chapter! Makes me feel very appreciated! I'm getting warm just now reading them all again - thank you so much! As for what Laxus said, I would guess something along the lines of 'you might want to come' in that overly cool I-totally-didn't-just-make-bad-a-lot-worse tone of voice :D
Finally, foxydame, you saint of a reviewer, thank you so much for such a long and wonderful review! I'm really flattered and more than happy to know how even the case at the Council interested you! I wasn't all too sure about that and I'm very content now. Ah, I don't know how I can keep my excitement at bay but I just want to respond on everything you mention - it's really so very kind of you to go into such detail! Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long and thank you again for such amazing support!
Enjoy (as much as possible)!
"Sounds very straight forward," Erza noted, slightly concerned. He shook his head.
"He was. It was… refreshing," he decided, a small smile in his voice. She had to smile, too. Not only did his co-worker seem to have left quite the positive impression, but Jellal seemed content with such an honest man, even when asking personal questions. And she knew what he meant – the constant beating around the bush when it came to tragic childhood experiences to spare her feelings was not always welcome. She had come to terms with the past; sometimes she wished others could at least act as if they did, too.
It was one of those many things she appreciated about her family. Not only did most members of Fairy Tail share horrid experiences to sympathise with just the right amount, but they knew when it was okay to openly talk about something and when not. They did not shy away from the risk of a tear or two.
"So then you'll be seeing him more often?" She asked, and his glance met hers with amusement.
"Sounds as if you wanted to hook me up with an eighty-year-old," Jellal grinned.
"Who knows, maybe he can hold it in longer than-"
"Don't even go there," he attacked her ribs with his finger, and she yelped, effectively having been stopped mid-sentence. "Please, you're going to put images in my head again," he lamented, then muttered, "I still can't look at the sofa in my office without seeing you in your Seduction Armour…" his cheeks started to darken with blush, and she had to laugh.
"I'm happy for you," Erza snuggled closer again, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. His arm came around her, but she failed to notice how consciously he placed it on her ribs.
"I really wasn't expecting to have anyone besides Jura to properly talk to," he admitted rather delightedly.
"And about something so personal,"
"Exactly," he was still smiling, infecting her easily. Her heart swelled gladly.
"Maybe we can invite them over for dinner sometime – his wife and him, I mean," she proposed, and he hummed in pensive agreement. "They can tell us more about their son; what it was like to have a toddler," she began to surge with enthusiasm. She could perfectly picture the old photo, unable to help it when her mind made up one of their own.
Again, Erza hardly noticed the stiffening of his strained muscles.
"I can't wait to see what our baby will look like," she excitedly raved. "Round chubby cheeks and big eyes and a tuft of purple hair – do babies have hair when they're born? Anyway, just imagine what a beautiful shade that would make," she held up a strand her own hair, frowning when he neither met her eyes, nor shared her passion. He was not even meeting her eyes, the circles of his finger on her flank stilling.
"That's not how genetics work," was all he said, his lips a thin line where he refused to let them frown as his forehead alreadydid. Slightly puzzled, she continued. Perhaps he did not like purple hair, she pondered.
"It's not that important," she soothed, not least herself, "what matters is their character," she nodded. "Won't that be amazing?" Her zeal picked back up easily, and she grabbed his arm. "We'll have a mini version of ourselves – and our magic! They'll have to have magic," Erza's eyes sparkled at him.
Her child. Their child. Someone who would become a person following the example set by them. Jellal teaching Romeo resurfaced, and she started fantasising about him teaching Heavenly Body Magic, Elemental Magic, any magic at all to their own son or daughter. There was no way of telling which magic would be inherited with certainty, making it all that much more exciting.
"He or she will be so handsome – and smart! I bet you'll pass down your escapee's cunning and- oh, do you think they'll love sweets, too?" Erza grinned broadly. "Though," she added, the beginning of a pout on her lower lip, "then I'd have to share – or you'll have to make double," she innocently beamed at him.
To her surprise, he got up.
Blinking at him, watching with confusion how he collected his boxers, Erza waited. He started to dress, so she carefully raised her voice.
"Jellal?" She asked.
"I just," he did not turn, crossing over to the door. "I still have to do something," he said, "for work," he added. His smile had faded, and her heart sunken. She sat up.
"Don't do it now, it's late," she argued, though her voice was quiet, weak. It was cold all of a sudden, somehow not only because of the lack of his physical presence next to her. "Let's go to bed," she tried. Then again. "Did I say something wrong?" A queasy feeling spread in her stomach, clenching her heart with an icy-cold grip. His lips had tightened. She had said something wrong.
It took another moment until he replied, a moment so long she thought he would leave without saying anything.
"I should probably work ahead on this if we want the honeymoon permission," he vaguely reasoned. The door closed softly behind him. Her face fell with the clicking of the lock.
The grandfather clock down the hall chimed. The ticking remained audible, dully prodding at her ears through the absolute silence of the house.
Discouraged, Erza finally sank down again. Shivering, she decided to warm up under the shower. When she then still felt as if sleeping was the last thing she wanted at that moment, she busied herself with changing the bedding. Stripping the bed, she crept down the hall to pilfer fresh sheets from different bedroom. It remained quiet, not even a streak of light at the bottom gap of a door betraying Jellal's whereabouts.
She changed clothes, brushed her teeth, took her time to comb her hair, and when he had still not returned after the following chiming of the grandfather clock, she gave up.
Curling up tightly, she listened to the suddenly eery ticking outside the door. He had not left the house, right? He must have been downstairs, she desperately tried to convince herself. Or perhaps he was merely out to grab a file from his office, she guessed, fully aware of the Council's building to be closed at night.
The desserts, Erza started to brood when her mind would allow her no rest. Was she demanding too much extra treatment? Was he upset because he already spent all of his time at work, saving them money which she only expended right away for things he did not approve of? And then stole his hard-earned free time by having him stand in the kitchen for another hour or more?
Turning to have her back face the door, Erza coiled up around the blanket. She waited for what felt like half a century, and when the clock chimed again, she had only just drifted off. She did not wake up when he finally joined her, cautious arms shunning her steadily expanding midriff.
The next day, Erza blinked at his boots in the entrance. She had not expected him home this early, seeing as his week had been more than straining so far. She found him in the kitchen, leaving her shopping bag in the hall. The smell of dinner was heartily wafting towards her, the growling of her stomach immediately replying to it. It smelled amazing.
Sneaking up, she saw how everything looked quite mouth-watering, too. There was a large plate of dumplings, every single one of them arranged in a neat circle that grew upwards into a cone as he added more and more. Every single one of which, so she only now noted, he had filled and folded himself. Spiralled or turned over, squeezed and pinched together to imitate flowers or stars in more ways than she could have ever come up with. There was a now closed book propped up in front of him, a recipe book called '101 Ways to fold Dumplings', and by the amount he had already stacked up, she was almost certain he had tried at least half of the techniques already.
So if it was not the effort he had to put into cooking… Erza mused, speculating on their opposing tastes when it came to sweet and savoury.
Deciding to test her theory, she joined him at the counter. Tilting her head, her high ponytail dropped over her shoulder, and she winced when Jellal did. It gave her another sting, knowing him to usually be more attentive. Only now did she register the slight trembling of his busy hands.
"Erza," Jellal smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. She easily sensed his unease. It tore on her heartstrings, but she showed no signs of it.
"You're home early," she returned his smile, finding his not to be softening into an honest one as she had hoped.
"Yeah, we had our final trial for this week postponed to tomorrow or the day after tomorrow so things should be easier now," he explained, focusing back on his task. She left him to it, retelling her own trip to town, her encounters, chatting lightly until he relaxed a little. When his shoulders had dropped even just a tad, she introduced the topic.
"I was thinking of panna cotta the other day and I can't get it out of my head," she whisked into her compliment about the dinner he was preparing while she set the table. She threw a curious glance over her shoulder. Nothing had changed, his posture as stiff yet thawing as before.
"I don't think we have all the ingredients, but we could get them for tomorrow," he casually returned. Erza frowned. She did not want to push him any more than necessary, already feeling guilty after her realisation of requesting too much, but she had to keep on trying. She wanted to confront him.
"Then perhaps some crepes for dessert?" She pushed her luck with another complete dish for him to do.
"That's a lot of dough for one evening," Jellal laughed, confusing her profusely. "I could make a baked apple with almonds and caramel," he gladly offered. Dumbfounded – at least more than before – Erza let it go, choosing not to harp on about it.
Perhaps she had misinterpreted completely the last night, or he had merely been tired.
With a pair of chopsticks, Jellal nimbly picked out the last few dumplings where he had fried them in a pan. The oil sizzled and his hand jerked a little to avoid the hot liquid spraying him. He was not shaking anymore, and Erza remembered her shopping trip then. Fetching her bag from the hall, she unpacked her obtained treasure in an attempt to lighten the now calmed mood.
"Look what I found!" She held out the cutest baby romper she had ever seen – fluffy to immitate the wool of a sheep, tiny ears on the hood and a stubby tail in the back. She grinned past it, jumping when he did.
Jellal had flinched, accidentally landing with his hand in the hot oil, stumbling backwards as he hissed in pain. Dropping the piece of clothing, Erza hurried to soak a towel in water. He turned off the heat, moving the pan to an unoccupied hotplate, almost as if nothing had happened. But it was back, and this time she detected it right away. The tremble was even stronger now.
Her stomach turned inside out, shocked by what she feared to be true.
"Here," she took his hand, wrapping the towel around the burn. He tensed, suppressing everything that was not a sharp breath. She watched his eyes – eyes as unfocused on the present as hers, flickering about in search of most anything to save him.
She was unable not to sigh, neither to catch his gaze.
"Jellal," Erza heard herself say, softly, non-accusingly. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. He started to retreat, and her eyes flared up at that. Somehow, he always made himself even more of a target, the way he acted upon his honesty merely fuelling her to push and to rush, his retreat spurring her to pursue. Why would he not just talk to her?
"It's fine, it's not that bad," he quietly said, very well aware of his injury not being the topic either of them had on their minds. He sought the distraction, the divergence to stray onto another path, any at all, but this time, she did not take the turn.
"Jellal, please tell me what's bothering you," she directly addressed the matter at hand, and he only backed away further. Unfortunately for him, the door on the opposite side of the room. And she was between it and him. "Is it the outfit – do I buy too many things without your consent?" She asked, knowing it was only a lie of her own; a fleet hope his lowered head nipped in the bud. It might have been an issue, however both knew it was not the main one. Another churn in her stomach piped up, a lump itching up her throat.
When reaching out for his hand, he drew back, into the corner.
"Jellal," Erza let out an exasperated sigh, "I don't want you to carry every burden by yourself," she frowned unhappily, forcing herself to stay calm and take care of him first, regardless of the nausea she felt to be welling up. "If you're worried about my mission," she said, then shook her head. Excuses were of no use, she knew.
Thinking already hurt, but she risked the ache of speaking her concern.
"It's the child, isn't it?" Erza's voice was smaller now, and she glanced up at him from below. Silence ingulfed them, a silence so thick and suffocating, she thought for a moment that he had already passed out. "Are you afraid of the weaker condition Porlyusica mentioned?" She pressed on, the same quiver of his hands resonating in her words.
His back hit the wall, and for a second, he seemed surprised to find himself where he was. Too far down the abyss already, she deemed his reaction, advancing anyway.
"Jellal," she implored. He gulped again, defeat almost sounding like a whimper when he released a sharp exhale through his nose.
"It's just…" he stuttered. So it was the condition, but it was not only the condition, Erza concluded. She had come to know the nature of his lies, of his façade, though to unlock the gate, he had to present it to her first. He hesitated, her gaze pressuring enough to go on without sending him fleeing. Yet – or so she feared. "Won't it… look strange when the baby arrives long before our first anniversary…?" He almost whispered, and she noticed the briefest of pauses before daring to pronounce 'baby'.
Erza restrained from groaning wholeheartedly. Not in annoyance, no, but in what was perhaps closest to relief in their current situation.
So he was not worried about having a baby, she added up. And then irritation did sneak its way into her temper, because why would that even matter? Why would anyone have a say in their private business but them? How, after everything they had been through, was he still so occupied with the public's judgement?
She shook her head, suddenly finding the previously delicious scents of his occupational therapy to be constricting rather than appetising.
"It's our baby; who cares what it'll look like?"
"I do!" He burst, making her jump. "I care about that! I care about most anything in case you haven't noticed," Jellal's voice shook as much as his arms, as if a quaking had erupted from within, breaking more and more of his body down into jumpy debris.
Her heart pounded in her chest, in her ears.
"Jellal-"
"I'm scared of those comments, of their remarks and speculations on what we did, that we didn't plan it and that we rushed-"
"No one will slander; even if they do, it's not important," she cut in. She could not stop herself. Her heart was beating madly by now, his undoubtedly on the overtaking lane. It was frustrating, nearly infuriating to hear him voice his fears, while somehow at the same time, it was fuelling a spark of passion, of satisfaction, of a well-deserved punch in the guts.
His breath trembled, whether of fury or fear, she did not know.
"All that matters Is that we want it," she defended. "You said you-"
"Well maybe I lied!" Jellal hollered, his rage crippling audibly with every word. "I'm a liar; it will have a liar for a father," he ranted, hands twitching tensely. The phrasing struck her like lightning, almost making her forget what they meant. Because she had said something wrong when mentioning his cunning; when mentioning his life as a fugitive. "I…" Jellal's arms fell, the towel carelessly dropping to the floor. "No, I- I didn't mean-" he staggered slightly, legs threatening to give out as much as his voice. "I want it, I just don't want…"
"You don't have to be scared of others' opinions," she heard herself say.
"Erza, I'm terrified," Jellal rasped. "I'm afraid of every of your guildmates and their opinions of… of me," he gritted his teeth, as if the mere mention of himself entailed penalty. Softening, her own tremble but a dull sensation in the far distance, Erza opened her mouth to reply when he continued in a whisper. "I can't be a father…" Jellal breathed. She gasped soundlessly, eyes wide where they failed to catch his. Hunching, folding into himself and into the corner he had shoved himself against, he held his own head as if haunted by demons. His words swirled, churned mercilessly in her mind, as did the shadows she mentally watched as they danced around him, faster, tighter the further he sunk to the ground.
"I don't want someone to have me as their father… I don't," Jellal slumped down, "want your child having… having me for a father," he convulsed with a sob. With her own eyes spilling over, vision blurry, legs wobbly, Erza fell to her knees. She embraced his jerking, tensing form. The lump in her throat had crawled all the way up, scratching nastily but she refused to let it sit on her vocal cords.
When she spoke, she spoke softly, not a single much-needed sniffle disrupting.
"You haven't learned it yet…"
"I can't," he sobbed.
"You can, Jellal," she stressed. Grabbing his face, she met his eyes, her own blazing beseechingly through her tears. Through his tears. "You have to keep trying. Promise me you will; you will keep trying," Erza pleaded, forbidding any scepsis. His gaze strayed, and he quavered. Erza gave a strangled exhale. She raked on his head, pressing her forehead to his. "Promise me that you will, she tightened her grip. "You can rest but you can never stop trying, Jellal. Your past does not define you. You're who you are now, please try to understand," she urged, arms flinging around him in a frantic hug.
Sobs erupted against her chest, stirring her, releasing that fluttering anxiety inside.
"Stay with me," she whispered, repeating when there was no answer. "Don't leave me," she squeezed him to her, robbing either their breath. He nodded into her shoulder. "Don't leave me," Erza snivelled, "Jellal…"