Work Text:
Is it really enough?
Sting flinched at the voice that wasn’t a voice, the magic power that he had gathered in his hand flickering as he trembled. He took a steadying breath, forcing himself to look at it. It was still bright, blinding almost. Still, light, and yet something about it had changed and not just that it had grown stronger. And it had grown stronger, nurtured in a way that the old Sabertooth had never been able to give him, and yet. Maybe your power’s half-baked, he twitched. Those were Natsu’s words from a lifetime ago in a different voice, a sibilant whisper that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, slipping past any noise he made to try and block it out. Seeping into his mind and echoing until it was all he could hear.
All that he could think about.
“It’s not,” he said, not sounding as sure as he had wanted to, even though he knew that he was stronger. That his light – Weisslogia’s light – was shining brighter than ever, enough to protect his friends, his guild, his mate… his magic flickered again, more violently at the thought of Rogue and for a moment it wasn’t just bright and white, a swirl of shadow muddying its depths. Jerking, he released the gathered magic with a cry of alarm. But rather than the dancing sparks that would usually scatter into the air around him, there was a haze that lingered for a moment, before seeming to darken and shrink down to join the shadows at his feet, and his heart beat a little faster. What was that? It’s almost like…
“Sting?” Rogue’s voice made him jump, whirling to face the office door where his mate was leaning on the doorframe and looking at him with a soft smile, that became a concerned frown as he saw his face. “Sting? What is it?” He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him although he doubted that anyone would be able to overhear them as their guild was almost as loud and chaotic as Fairy Tail these days.
“I’m fine…” Sting replied. “You just startled me.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was far enough from the truth to make him uncomfortable. He had never lied to Rogue, even when they and Sabertooth had been at their worst, that had been a line that he was unwilling to cross. So why now? Rogue was still frowning at him, as though he knew that he was lying and Sting tried not to squirm under the weight of his gaze, even as he wondered why he’d lied in the first place. Rogue didn’t expect him to be perfect, and the other Dragon-slayer might be the only person in the entire guild who might understand what was going on. Who could give him answers to the questions that he wasn’t quite ready to ask.
“Are you sure?” Rogue asked approaching the desk, glancing around as though expecting to find something lurking and to Sting, it seemed that his eyes lingered a little longer on the shadows beneath the desk and his feet. Can you see it? Is it just me? He wasn’t sure which he wanted it to be, and it was almost a relief when Rogue looked away and shook his head. “That’s what you get for locking yourself away in here all afternoon.”
“Well someone has to catch up with all the paperwork,” Sting retorted through numb lips, praying that his hand wouldn’t tremble as he gestured at the papers piled high on both sides of his desk. Rogue winced and shuddered as he looked at the paperwork.
“I don’t envy you that,” he admitted. “But…” He leaned over the desk until he was practically nose to nose with Sting, who fought the urge to back away, terrified all of a sudden that his mate would smell the lie on him, the wrongness in his magic, and lurking in the back of his mind. “You need to eat, and I was told to come and get you.”
“I’m…”
“If you say you’re not hungry, or that you will be down later, Minerva said that she would come and ‘haul your ass downstairs’” Rogue cut across his words, smirking as he quoted Minerva. Sting wanted to smile at that, even though he knew that it wasn’t an idle threat, as Minerva had established herself as the mother-hen of the guild since her return and took that duty seriously, especially when it came to him. However, his stomach had lurched painfully at the mere thought of food, let alone the idea of having to eat around the others, but he didn’t know how to get out of it as Rogue was waiting and he managed a weak smile.
“Let’s not keep her waiting then.”
Maybe he would feel better once he’d eaten and spent some time around the others, as it felt like he had been spending less and less time around them as he grappled with his duties as Master and trying to keep going on jobs with Rogue. Perhaps, the oddness he was feeling was just exhaustion and a touch of loneliness. He hoped so, as he got to his feet and circled the desk, Rogue waiting to tangle their fingers together so that he could pull Sting towards the door. “You should let us help with the paperwork, especially when we’re the ones causing most of it,” Rogue suggested as he all but shepherded Sting out of the office.
“But…” Sting started to protest, and then cut himself off – why was he protesting? It wasn’t like Rogue was wrong, although Sting knew that he had contributed to a few of those complaints himself. Minerva grumbled that it was because they were spending too much time around Fairy Tail, but Sting suspected it was part of loosening up and allowing themselves to be who they were supposed to be. Either way, it meant chaos and chaos meant paperwork, and he really was tired of doing it. “I might just take you up on that,” he settled for saying, feeling a little lighter as he did so, especially as Rogue smiled and then groaned, whinging about unleashing a monster even as he pulled Sting forward.
By the time they got downstairs, the strangeness and shadow were forgotten, and Sting’s was smiling freely, laughing as Minerva scolded them for taking too long, and Rufus and Yukino both mimicked sneaking away when Rogue informed them they were all going to get roped into helping with the paperwork. It was a laughing, smiling group that settled down to eat. Joined by the Exceeds who had been visiting with the other Exceeds and were babbling away about their adventures. And as Sting looked around at his guild, his family and his mate, he decided that it had to have been his imagination, because there was nothing wrong or out of place here.
It was just my imagination.
****
The voice didn’t reappear for the next couple of weeks, his magic was as light and bright as ever, and Sting shook it off as just being a bad day and an overactive imagination. They were all busy with work and paperwork, which had become group sessions in his office, the others stealing chairs from all over the place and spending most of the time trying to find the most outrageous letters and complaints. He didn’t think he had laughed and smiled as much as he did in those few weeks.
Then the shadows returned.
Not for him, but for Rogue. A bad mission, and an encounter with a device that had restrained magic with any hint of a dark nature, leaving Sting to take the lead. Resulting in him walking into a trap that had left him unconscious and trapped behind a barrier that Rogue couldn’t get through, forcing his mate to leave him behind to find help, undoing a lot of the progress they’d made. Sting hadn’t blamed him for any of it. But during the night he’d been forced to spend in the infirmary and the trip home, Rogue had been subdued, barely speaking to anyone not even Frosch. That had been the first sign, and Sting had watched him closely, knowing that these were the moments when his presence and light were needed to stave off the darkness.
Sure, enough when he had made it home after catching up with the guild, and allowing Minerva to fuss over him, while Yukino banned him from the office until both he and Rogue were back to themselves, it had been to find their bedroom flooded with shadows. The lights had been on, but the charms in the lacrimas had been no match for the darkness swirling around the huddled figure on the bed. For a wild moment, Sting had wanted to flee, abruptly remembering that moment in his office. It was just a bad day, just my imagination, he reminded himself sternly before moving across to crouch in front of Rogue, allowing his magic to illuminate his body and cast a soft glow over them.
“Stop it,” he murmured, using the soft voice only Rogue got to hear and reaching for his mate’s face, cupping it between both hands. “This wasn’t your fault.” There was no sign from Rogue that he had heard him, even his eyes were unfocused, as though he was seeing some different space and Sting had a feeling that place involved him unconscious behind that cursed barrier. However, there was a subtle shift in the darkness around them, and Sting had a fleeting impression of tendrils turning towards him, as though the shadows themselves were listening to him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and he swallowed, before letting his fingers curl against Rogue’s cheek, magic flaring against the darkness. “Jobs don’t always go our way, and this one was just not meant for us. That doesn’t mean it’s our fault, it’s just how it is.”
“You were hurt, because…”
“They blocked your magic,” Sting cut across him, growing more strident now that he knew that Rogue was listening, even if he wasn’t taking his words on board just yet. “They trapped that path. I was hurt, because of them, not because of you. You were the one who got me out of there.”
“I had to get help,” Rogue mumbled, but he was blinking, some life coming back to his eyes as he finally looked at Sting who smiled at him. “I…”
“Fetched help got me out of there and stayed with me all night,” Sting cut him off again. “You did everything you could. Thank you,” he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Rogue’s forehead, letting his light flare even brighter as he did so, seeing the looming darkness beginning to retreat as Rogue leant into the contact. “Now, enough of this, okay?” He asked, pulling back and looking pointedly at the shadows and Rogue followed his gaze this time and swallowed, expression darkening for a moment, before he nodded, frowning in concentration. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been, the shadows continuing to strain towards them, and Sting could have sworn that for a moment they’d brushed his skin despite the glow of his magic, cool and ethereal, sending a shiver through his body.
“Sting,” Rogue whispered his name, like a prayer. A charm against the darkness, repeating it like a mantra under his breath as slowly the darkness flowed away until the only shadows that remained were those cast by the light lacrima as Sting released his magic too. “I’m sorry,” Rogue said once the last of the darkness was gone, and Sting shook his head and leaned in to kiss him properly this time.
“I’m your light, remember. That’s never going to change.”
*
It had taken a little while longer to convince Rogue that he really didn’t have anything to apologise for, but that was normal. Just as Sting knew he would find his mate sneaking him his favourite foods for the next few days, or trying to help out more, little gestures to show his gratitude until he fully found his equilibrium. That was normal, as was his clinginess as Sting had moved to sit beside him on the bed. It was normal, so why was it all making his skin crawl, as though he was a step out of pace with what was normal for them? This is normal, it’s normal. Nothing is wrong, he tried to tell himself, but the feeling wouldn’t leave him alone, and the places where it had felt as though the shadows were touching him seemed to itch, and then burn, until he was forced to his feet.
“I’ll be back, I just need the bathroom,” he said hurriedly as Rogue looked at him in concern, trying for a smile although from the way his mate’s eyes narrowed in concern he hadn’t succeeded and he all but bolted for the bathroom. And for the first time in months, he locked the door behind him, not sure whether it was Rogue, his own thoughts, or the shadows that he was trying to hold at bay as he leaned against the door for a long moment before moving to the sink.
What the hell is wrong with me? He thought, as he reached it and looked at his reflection, searching for some physical sign of the ‘oddness’ he was experiencing. He looked pale and wearier than usual, but that could be put down to the injury and the long hours he had been putting in, and despite his almost desperate, searching gaze there was nothing to answer that question, and he bowed his head. I…
The lights flickered around him, the glow dimming just as it had been in the other room and Sting swallowed as he felt rather than saw the darkness pressing in. Go away. He knew that he should go and check on Rogue, that this could be a sign of Rogue slipping again now that he was alone, although it had been a while since that had happened, but he couldn’t move. He was rooted to the ground, and when he looked down it seemed for a moment that there were shadowy tendrils wrapped around his ankles holding him in place, but when he blinked, there was nothing although he still couldn’t move.
“Stop…” The plea slipped out between trembling lips, a whimper rather than a cry because he didn’t want to alarm Rogue. Didn’t want to waver as his mate’s light, especially when he was just getting back on an even keel. A laugh echoed in the back of his mind, and all around him, it seemed as the room seemed to darken a little further.
You’re here for him, Sting’s hands tightened on the edge of the basin as the voice that he hadn’t heard for weeks whispered in the back of his mind. Trembling as he lifted his eyes to meet his reflection, just as the lights in the room dimmed and for a moment his eyes looked black, as the voice caressed him, giving voice to the doubts that lurked deep within. But who’s here for you?”
****
Sting was slipping.
He wasn’t sure if it showed on the outside yet, as no one had called him on it, although more than once he had found Lector and Rogue watching him a little longer than was necessary. At those times he would force a smile, a bright voice, and don the mask of the Sting he had been before, but it was getting harder. He still wasn’t sure what was happening, or why he was slipping. At times nothing seemed to have changed, at others, he felt out of place in his own skin. A step out of line with the world around him.
Apart from when he was in the shadows.
It had taken him days, or maybe longer to realise that. He wasn’t sure how long had passed since that night in the bathroom, and no matter how long he stared at the calendar, he couldn’t work it out. Not that it really mattered. What mattered, was the feeling of relief when he stepped into a darkened room or found the darkest corner in the room. As though an itch had been scratched. Rogue brought a similar relief, at least when he was using magic, which he rarely did around the guild much to Sting’s growing dismay. And he couldn’t suddenly start asking him to, knowing that Rogue’s restraint was in part to reassure himself that he wasn’t going to lose control. Sting wouldn’t… couldn’t take that away from him, even as he longed to see that looming darkness again so that he could step into its midst. Maybe, if he did, then it would chase the itch away for good.
“…ing! STING!” He blinked and jerked back, as he found Minerva stood in front of him, her hands on her hips as she stared at him, and he coloured, an apology on the tip of his tongue when she sighed. “What is going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been off the last couple of weeks, distracted and…” She hesitated, and Sting narrowed his eyes as she rarely hesitated, an uneasy feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Does she know? He wasn’t sure why that mattered. A rational part of his mind even telling him that someone needed to realise, to see that the light was fading, but even as he thought that, something in him recoiled at the thought. He didn’t want them to see, to know, and his hands curled into fists as she seemed to make up her mind. “Your magic feels different.”
Panic.
He wasn’t sure if it was his, or the shadowy part of him that was stirring, but it gripped him. A roaring sound flooding his ears. My magic is different…? He tried to focus on that, he really did, but he couldn’t because a larger part of him didn’t care. A large part already knew, had seen the dimming of his light, the thread of shadow he had seen in his office all those weeks ago, spreading until it was like his light was caught in a web of shadow. Just like him, he thought, feeling the room around him darkening as his magic surged in response to his panic. The itch vanishing, as his magic swirled, darker than before.
“So?” He asked, not sure whether it was him or the darkness speaking at this point and not particularly caring as he stood up. Distantly he registered the silence spreading around them, as shadows rose around him, soothing and comforting as they brushed against him. Promising him something that he couldn’t quite understand but wanted with a hunger that would have unnerved him not long before.
“So?” Minerva echoed, sounding more alarmed than before and it took him a moment to realise it was fear that he saw under the concern, and something dark and malicious purred with contentment in his chest as she backed up.
Sting moved before he knew what he was doing, no longer sure where he ended, and the shadows began, and gods, it felt good to slide through the darkness. To let the shadows wrap around him, chasing away the irritating light, and he could have lost himself in them there and then, but just as he thought that he materialised behind Minerva who crashed into him and jumped back with a startled noise. The shadows moved as quick as a though, wrapping around her, stopping her from escaping and as she started to struggle against them, he heard other voices rising around them, Rogue’s voice among them. There was a pan at the sound of his mate’s voice, and trusting the shadows to contain her for the time being he turned and sought him out, meeting wide, horrified eyes. It took him a moment to realise that the gaze was aimed at him, and the writhing mass of shadows behind him, and something cold and unpleasant slipped in amongst the relief and euphoria of being surrounded by darkness.
Why are you looking at me like that?
“Sting, you need to stop this,” Rogue was reaching for him now. To stop him. The realisation ran through him and the shadows at the same time and this time Sting was the one to react, springing back and letting the darkness close between him and Minerva just as his mate would have reached for him. “Sting! STING!” He ignored the increasingly panicked shouts and turned his gaze towards Minerva who froze in her struggles at the weight of his gaze, and he could feel her magic stirring, ready to fight him.
They were all standing against him, trying to chase away the darkness.
I don’t need a light, he thought, closing his eyes and just breathing for a moment. Opening his eyes, he focused on her, unaware of how the blue had given way to black as he glared at her. I don’t need her. Rogue was shouting, and he could feel his mate’s magic tugging at the darkness shielding them, trying to pull it away, to seize control of it and Sting growled low in his throat. This was his magic. His shadow. He gestured violently, and Minerva was flung away from him, released from the shadows as she disappeared through the wall of darkness that closed in her wake, shutting out the rest of the world, as free of their duty the shadows swarmed around him. Caressing, cradling, holding him close and for the first time in a long time Sting felt utterly at ease, no trace of light shining in the space surrounding him.