Chapter Text
The gun shots fired again.
The crowd screamed and yelled. Ran and tripped over rocks and sand.
Bullets pierced through chairs, flew over them, some towards the sea.
One landed on Erza's shoulder. Jellal rushed towards her, screaming her name.
It was coming from somewhere above—somewhere from the high mountain overlooking the sea. Most of the bodyguards had already headed that way. Minerva with them.
Laxus stayed behind—shielding Lucy. And so did Laurence. Both shooting towards the mountain as Lucy stood behind their wide, buff bodies.
She was the reason Laurence kept his job. And now, he would lay down his life for her.
"STAY WITH ME, STAY WITH ME,"
Natsu held his aunt in his arms. One hand holding hers as he looked into her brown-gray eyes that were stuck on the cloudless sky above. Her body still. Gray. Breathless.
He couldn't hear the gunshots. He couldn't hear the people screaming. Or see the people running.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO,"
Lucy was frozen behind him. Her whole body shaking. Her face drained of color as she brushed her fingers along the warm liquid on her white dress. She looked at her quivering hand, her eyes wide as they beheld the dripping bright ruby blood.
"WAKE UP, WAKE UP,"
His voice quavering as his tears trembled in his jade eyes.
He laid his head down in the crook of her bloody neck,
"Please... don't leave me,"
He wailed. His voice crying with pain. With grief. With anger. Muffled into her shoulder.
It was his fault. His fault. All of this was his fault. He brought her here. And now she was dead.
Lucy's trembling, bloody hand laid on his shoulder from behind him.
Laxus and Laurence continued to shoot. Others had left, protecting their own loved ones. Gray dragging Juvia. Gajeel carrying Levy. Jellal holding Erza. Mira running behind Lisanna.
Disappearing into the beach—headed towards their cars.
It was just him, Lucy, Laxus, and Laurence now.
"Natsu..." Her throat was so tight. She could barely speak. Her tears were silent as they ran down her cheeks.
His loud cries were sending blades to her heart.
"Natsu..."
Then he screamed. He roared towards the sky above. Even the birds flapped their wings away. His hands clenched by his sides, his body trembling in anger. In rage.
The gunshots stopped. As if the people behind them froze.
And the distanced people covered their ears.
His roar pierced through the sky.
It was a promise. His rage was a promise.
That no matter who they were. No matter where they were.
He was going to find them.
And they were going to die.
Lucy knelt down on the ground. Sand smushed on her white, bloody dress. She hugged him tight from behind.
"I'm with you," her voice shaky and scared. "I'm with you,"
He began breathing heavy. At her touch, he simmered.
Sinking in with reality. Chairs were empty and broken. And Lucy was crying against his back.
"Looks like they stopped," Laxus breathed, looking ahead at the mountain.
"QUICK, EVERYONE GET TO SAFTEY!" Laurence yelled, turning around. Only to find everyone gone. Thankfully.
It was just them.
He held her arms wrapped around him. And turned to face her.
He looked into her scared brown eyes.
"Take Lucy back to the house." Natsu ordered, his breathing heavy as he wiped his bloody face.
"W-Where are you going..." she cried.
He held her chin, watching tears roll down her cheeks.
"I am going to kill them."
Her heart was pounding.
"But first," he swallowed. His body still trembling in rage. "I need you safe. Or else I can't think or do anything."
She shook her head as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Scared. Afraid he was going to be next.
They all knew that bullet was aimed for him. All those bullets were. Anna just happened to stand in between.
"Take her to the house." He stood, grabbing the gun from Laxus. "And you protect her with your life." He looked into his eyes.
He lowered his head in obedience and honor.
With that, Laxus carried Lucy over his shoulder as she began screaming, kicking and crying "NO" as she watched Natsu head towards the mountain. His back to her.
Laurence followed behind him.
"NOOO, NATSUU!!" She cried.
And then he was gone.
She was laying on the bed. Staring at the ceiling above. It was now 4 a.m.
12 hours.
12, long hours had passed.
She had been waiting all that time in the bedroom.
Guards were standing outside her door. More around the house. She was not allowed to leave. However much she begged and cried, she could not leave.
It was Natsu's orders.
More guards came back around 1 a.m.
They were the same guards that headed towards the mountain. Laurence too.
But he had not come back yet.
She couldn't sleep. Think. Eat.
Breathe. It was hard to breathe.
The door opened.
She sat up the bed. Her eyes tearing as she beheld him.
He was safe. He was safe. He was safe.
He closed the door behind him.
His hands drenched with blood. It dried under his nails. His neck was filled with scratches. His clothes were ripped. And dripping of ruby blood.
But it wasn't his own.
She could have sworn she saw pieces of skin clung onto his vest.
He walked towards her and sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding her intense gaze. He put his head down and looked towards the ground—elbow on legs.
She could not find the right words to say.
A moment passed. And a moment more.
"I'm sorry." He said.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She hugged him from behind.
"You're okay," she cried in relief, holding onto his warm body—as if reassuring herself that he was with her. He was safe, and with her.
It was silent as she held him.
"Lucy," he said, still looking at the ground. "I killed eight people today."
She froze.
"With my bare hands." He added.
Her arms drifted away as he turned, facing her. Looking into those brown, innocent eyes.
His were dull. Cold. Empty.
"And I feel nothing."
She swallowed. Her heart thumping hard against her chest.
She brought her hands to his face, looking into those eyes of his.
"And I love you, still."
He was frozen.
And then a tear rolled down his cheek.
She could have sworn she saw the life grow back in his eyes. The color.
She wiped his tear away with her fingers.
"Take a shower, baby." She smiled. "You had a long day."
.
.
.
He came out of the bathroom, shirtless. Wiping his face with his white towel.
She was laying in bed, eyes closed.
Although he knew she wasn't asleep.
But he was quiet, still. Didn't want to disturb her peace.
Once he laid under the covers, beside her, he let out a long sigh.
"Don't leave me like that again," she spoke. Her eyes still closed. Her back to him. "Don't leave me waiting again."
He leaned on his elbow as he placed his hand on her cold arm and caressed her.
"I won't have to ever again, sweetheart." He kissed her shoulder. "Never again."
She ruffled the blankets as she turned her body to him, her big brown eyes now looking into his.
"Promise?"
He laid his hand on her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her nose.
"I promise."
"This is my fault." She swallowed. "I... I asked you to kill him." She blinked. "It was him... wasn't it?"
"It is not your fault." His voice stern.
Then he sighed.
"It was his plan all along."
She narrowed her brows.
"Those men... they were coming for me either way. Whether Jude died or not, they were coming."
"Why... why does my father hate you so much?" She tried not to cringe as she called him that. "All of that for your company?"
"No... Lucy. No." He responded. "Aunt Anna..." he swallowed. She could have sworn she felt his heart ache. "She raised me, Lucy. Shouldn't that tell you something?" He looked into her eyes. "Our families go way back."
"H—How?"
"My father..." he said. "He used to work for yours. For a long, long time. But they didn't... get along, you could say." That was putting it lightly, she seemed to notice.
"So he quit." He laid down again—arm crossed behind his head as he looked at the ceiling above.
"After that, he decided to open up his own business. Just a restaurant. A small, family owned restaurant.
"But every time the restaurant seemed to be doing well, something bad happened. Either a robbery, a shooting, or even bad press.
"My father thought it was Jude who was behind it. He was certain."
Lucy didn't seem to be surprised.
"And what did you think?" She asked.
He chuckled,
"I was a kid, Lucy. I didn't think at all. All I cared for was my soccer ball and friends."
The sound of his laugh sounded so beautiful to her ears.
"But I did love going to that restaurant. Aunt Anna was the manager of it for a while, and she would personally make me something to eat every time I visited." He said, reminiscing.
"She was... working for your father?"
"Helping. But we did pay her." He responded. "My father was close friends with her when he worked for Jude. They both shared similar dislikes towards him.
"But after he left, they didn't see each other.
"Until she knocked on our door about a year after and told us that she cut ties with her family and needed a place to stay. She didn't tell us why. But we welcomed her with open arms."
Her eyes saddened at the thought.
She believed Aunt Anna was so cruel for leaving. And now... it all made sense.
"She worked for our restaurant as thanks. She didn't want to get paid for it, but my father didn't allow it.
"And she seemed to think it was Jude who was behind the faults in our business, too.
"But when she started working for us, every bad thing seemed to stop. I... could only guess it was because he was busy dealing with Layla's death at that time." He turned, looking into her saddening eyes.
But no tears.
She was done with tears.
He laid his hand on hers under the blanket and looked back at the ceiling.
"So during that time of peace, our business flourished. My dad started opening up branches everywhere around the country.
"Sting's dad started working for us then. He was our CFO. And all was well for a while."
A while, she noticed. He must've meant all was well before his parents were killed.
"Anna stayed with us for a couple of months before she could afford a small cottage a few cities away. We offered her more—a house, even. My father had a good flow of money. But she rejected.
"She did visit frequently, though.
"And we would her. Zeref and I spent a lot of time there on the weekends. It was mostly to get away from doing chores or whatever." He chuckled. Then let out a deep breath. "She was our place of peace. We could do whatever we wanted as she spent her time knitting."
Lucy seemed to breath easier.
Talking about her seemed to help. Visiting his old memories seemed to keep her alive.
She felt it.
"You think I did wrong by her?" She could see how his throat bobbed at the question. Still gazing upon that ceiling.
She sighed as she placed her hand on his chest.
"No, baby. I think she was very lucky to have you."
He was silent. For a moment. And a moment more.
"And then I grew up," he continued. "And created my own business. By then... it had been 10 years since that restaurant had an owner, so the business shut down.
"And from my understanding... Jude had moved his headquarters from Japan to America, too. So I didn't spend a thought on him. Over a decade had passed. And a lot happened for me to even care.
"But as you can tell, he didn't regard me in the same manner. He tried coming for me in many ways when I became known. Anna warned me he would.
"Sting was his last attempt after so many. He placed him in my company as a spy—as a set of eyes and ears for him.
"And to this day, I do not know what the trouble was between my father and him. All I know was that he declared us as his enemies."
"My father was a cruel, sick man." Lucy said. She tried not to seem too happy at the word was. "Simply not wanting anyone to be better than him would be reason enough. Coming after your father was probably his little game of revenge for leaving him. And seeing you outgrow him... oh, that must've enraged him."
She knew him better than anyone, after all.
No wonder she ran away from home.
"He fed off sick people like him. Sting... Sting was one of them. And now... I'm honestly wondering if he put Sting in my life to keep an eye on me." She swallowed. "It would explain why he cared so little for me throughout our relationship. Why he didn't care when it ended, too, as if it were a chore he finally got done with."
Natsu sighed.
Every single person they were speaking of was dead. Two of which were by his hands, too.
Guess it was all over now, then.
"It's all messed up." He said, turning to her. "But it was this mess that brought us together." The edge of his lip curled. "If it weren't for Sting, you wouldn't have been drinking in that bar that night... And I would've never met you."
She smiled.
"And I would go through this a hundred times over if it meant that I had you in the end."
Her cheeks heated.
"And I would... too, husband." She giggled. That would take getting used to.
He leaned on his elbow as he looked down at her. As if in sudden realization.
Then placed his hand on her other side as he mounted her body, looking straight into her eyes. His own glistening. She could feel the eagle in her chest fluttering as his gaze brushed over her lips, neck, face, then eyes again.
Every part of her body went hot.
"You shouldn't have reminded me," he smirked, "wife."