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Freed hesitated for a moment outside of Laxus’ room, listening intently for any sound from the Dragon-slayer and hearing nothing. He wasn’t sure whether he was even going to be welcomed considering how things had ended at the Cathedral, but he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next or what Makarov’s punishment for what they’d done was going to be, and he didn’t want to risk not getting the chance to talk to Laxus before that. Gathering his courage, he knocked on the door, half-expecting to be ignored or told to go away, and instead, he was surprised when there was a pause and then. “It’s open.” Laxus sounded tired, but there was a softness – maybe just from weariness and pain – that Freed hadn’t heard from him before, and he pushed the door open and slipped into the room.
Inside, he winced as he took in the bandages that covered Laxus’ body. Natsu really hadn’t pulled any punches, not that he’d been able to and Freed faltered again for a moment as he remembered just how close that fight had been, how close Laxus had come to doing something unforgivable. However, seeing Laxus wince and realising that the other man was trying to finish bandaging himself and struggling, Freed shook of his hesitation and moved across to him. “Can I help?” He asked, and Laxus looked at him, blue eyes assessing. He didn’t miss the way the Dragon-slayer’s eyes lingered a little longer on his injuries, concerned and open about it in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself to be in a long time, and it gave Freed hope that maybe they could all come back from this in some form or another. Especially when after a slightly awkward pause, Laxus nodded and held out the dwindling roll of bandage with a muttered.
“Please…”
This, at least, was familiar. Laxus had never been one for accepting help easily, but when he had needed assistance with injuries, it had been Freed that he had turned to, and it was almost painful how easy it was to slip back into that now. The quiet between them not entirely comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable either as Freed worked, methodically redoing the last bit that Laxus had done, before finishing it and moving on to the next wound. Seeing Laxus’ injuries up close bothered him on several levels.
He had never liked seeing the other man hurt, even though he knew that he could take more damage than most and that he healed quickly. But, this time, all he could see was Natsu and Laxus on top of the Cathedral, remembering how he had trembled with each blow, and how neither nor Levy had been able to tear there gaze away. If Natsu had chosen to go as far as Laxus had been willing to go, deep down Freed knew that it would never have happened, but it didn’t stop the questions, the what-ifs that insisted on running through his mind. Even worse was the relief. Relief that Laxus had been stopped. No, that they had all been stopped, because even though it was Laxus’ name on most peoples lips, he and the Raijinshuu had been just as responsible, even as if Laxus had gone further than them, and it was right that they bore the punishment of that.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Laxus’ quiet voice startled him, and he pulled a little too tight on the bandage making the Dragon-slayer hiss, and Freed opened his mouth to apologise and to protest those words when Laxus reached for him, catching his hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “Any of this.”
“That’s not true,” Freed said just as softly, but he didn’t fight when Laxus took the bandages from him, and instead pulled him to sit beside him on the bed. How long had it been since they’d done this? Since Laxus had reached for him and held on? This thing between them had been new and delicate, little more than stolen moments, and with their return to Magnolia and Fairy Tail, and their plans, those moments had grown scarcer. Now, as he looked at their joined hands, he wished that he had spoken up, about those moments, about his doubts and hesitations. Sure, he had mentioned them once or twice, but he had allowed himself to be caught up in Laxus’ vision of what he wanted for the guild, swept along by a vision that he now realised could have destroyed them all. “I should have said something…”
“You did,” Laxus countered, and when Freed looked at him, the Dragon-slayer was looking out of the window, to where they could just make out the distant spires of the Cathedral. “You were the only one that questioned what we were doing, even before…” He waved his free hand, as though that could encompass the entire mess they had made, and everything that had happened, and Freed’s breath caught. Juvia choosing to sacrifice herself rather than fight Cana, Mirajane defeating him and then smiling and forgiving him in the next breath… the failed Fairy Law and the realisation that he had seen Laxus’ real heart too late… the terror of thinking that Laxus was going to go too far and actually kill Natsu…
“Not enough.”
“Freed,” Laxus’ free hand was on his cheek now, guiding Freed’s head up so that their gazes met. “You can only do and say so much if the other person wasn’t willing to listen.” There was absolution in those words, but Freed couldn’t take it even if he’d wanted to. Not with the memories so close. The guilt a simmering presence under his skin, and not when Makarov’s decision about their punishment was hanging over their heads like the blade of a guillotine waiting to fall. Laxus seemed to realise that on some level because he sighed, thumb tracing the edge of one of the bruises darkening Freed’s face, before letting his hand fall away. “I wish that I had listened…”
“Laxus…”
“There is no way the Old Man can let me stay after this,” Laxus cut him off, and Freed’s breath caught at the sheer certainty of those words, but he couldn’t argue. They had broken the rules, the very tenants of the guild, and there could be no other punishment for a sin like that. He couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt, the thought of losing something they’d only just realised they had. You’ve known that for a long time, Mira’s words haunted him, and he closed his eyes against the truth. Yes, I did, but I didn’t see it until now, he thought, and the regret lay thick and heavy in the back of his throat. They had thrown it all away, and for what? “Freed. Freed, look at me.” It was a command, as gentle as it had been and Freed couldn’t disobey, even though it felt as though was converging on him, a storm with him in the centre.
Laxus’ hand was warm against his cheek again, grounding him, and Freed was fairly sure there was an irony in the Lightning Mage being the one to ground him in this storm. He didn’t care right then though, instead leaning into the touch, letting it anchor him. Allowing himself a moment of weakness. Laxus seemed to realise that he needed a moment, falling silent, and instead rubbing a thumb against his cheek and studying him intently, as though trying to commit his face to memory. They remained like that for a few minutes, quiet – but comfortable in a way they hadn’t been for too long, just breathing the other in, and eventually Freed tried to straighten. Trying to tell himself that he was ready to face what was to come, the storm in his chest still fierce, but contained for now. “Freed…” He blinked, hearing the odd note in Laxus’ voice, a mixture of guilt and worry, and something softer and more tentative that he couldn’t put a name to, even when he saw an echo of it in the Dragon-slayer’s eyes as he met them once more. “I’m not going to be able to stay, but you…and Evergreen and Bickslow. You have a place here, and I don’t think he’s going to take that way from you, not because of me.”
It took a moment for what Laxus was saying to register, and there was a roaring sound in Freed’s ears, and he was shaking his head before he had even fully processed what the other man had said. He couldn’t speak for the rest of the Raijinshuu for all that he was their Captain, but they had been in this together, it was only fair and expected that they would share in the punishment. “Freed,” Laxus continued before he could put his protest into words, and there was the threat of thunder in his voice now, a demand for Freed to listen. “Please don’t fight this. I will accept my punishment, whatever the Old Man decides it’s going to be, and I want you to accept it too. I want you to stay and find your place in the guild.”
“But…”
“It won’t be the end,” Laxus interrupted him, soft and fierce, the grip on Freed’s hand an anchor as he squeezed lightly. “Not for the Raijinshuu, and more importantly not for us…” Freed released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding at those words, at the promise in them, but he still shook his head. This wasn’t what he wanted. To be fair, none of this was, but losing Laxus? Watching him walk away from them? From him? “Freed,” Laxus released his hand now, moving to cup his face between both hands, forcing Freed to look at him, not that the Rune Mage could have looked way after hearing his name said in that tone, pleading and fierce all once. “Please let me do this, let me face the consequences of my actions without dragging you down too.” Freed didn’t want to, couldn’t even imagine a Fairy Tail without Laxus, but the words wouldn’t come, the denial resting heavily in his chest as he stared at the Dragon-slayer, because it hadn’t been an order or a demand or even a request. It had been a plea, one twisted and wrapped with such emotion that it took his breath away.
He wants this…
“I…” His voice caught and broke. He didn’t want this, any of this. But, Laxus was watching him, hands warm on his face and he closed his eyes. “Promise me…” He said instead. “Promise that you will come back.” To me, he wanted to say, but everything was fragile and new, and he didn’t have the courage right then. He knew that it wasn’t really fair to ask because Makarov was the one who would decide. What if he never lets Laxus return? His breath caught again, raw and painful in his chest.
“I will come back to you,” Laxus said, and Freed’s eyes flew open at hearing the promise he hadn’t been able to ask for. “Even if I can’t return to the guild, I will return to you. I promise,” Laxus whispered, and kissed him. Soft and lingering, a promise pressed into his lips and seared into his memories.
“Then, I will let you go,” Freed said, when they parted, resting their foreheads together as he added softly. “And I will wait.”