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Disclaimer: Plot is mine. Characters are borrowed.
Author’s Note: Sequel to “Choices to Live with”. Things go downwards when Laxus finally checks in with his grandfather long enough to rescind his claim on the guild. Bixlow and Evergreen are now not sure how to keep Freed’s spirit up. And still, he won’t explain to them.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was almost two weeks before Freed appears at the guild. Still no closer to an answer or the serenity he wanted, he refused to hide for longer than that. Of course the looks he receives doesn’t make it much easier to bear but he attempts to pretend he doesn’t notice as he makes his way for the corner table. Pulling a book out, he tells himself that it was okay if he only managed a few hours. At least it was something.
It’s not long before he finds Mira at his side with a cup of tea and a large bowl of cherry sherbet. He glances at her but she merely gifts him with a smile before walking off before he could manage anything about not ordering that. Glancing at the bowl, he merely accepts it and brings a spoonful to his mouth. It was a comfort thing, to him; something that he had when he wasn’t feeling a hundred percent. So he could not be that surprised to receive it.
In the midst of it, the guild lacryma comes to life. Mira answers it with her usual kind sweetness, and Freed wonders if everyone else goes as still as he does hearing the familiar brusque, “The old man in?”
“Laxus, my boy you…”
And it would be as far as Makarov would get before he’d be interrupted, “Good, you’re there. I’d hate to have to call back over and over to find you. Look, I’m gonna make this fast and it’s up to you on how hard you want to make it after that. I want out. I’m done with Fairy Tail.”
“Laxus…”
“No, old man, I don’t want to hear it. I’m giving you the courtesy of a withdrawal in this manner. I know the rules. I know what not to do.”
Freed feels his heart sink. Laxus…was leaving them?! Swallowing he presses the spoon back into the bowl as his stomach twists violently. No, Laxus…please…
“Is that your final decision?” Makarov asks voice heavy as if he already knew what the choice was.
“Yeah, it is. I’m through with that place.”
“Then as long as you keep those rules…You are here absolved of this guild. Your family will miss…” And the connection would end before Makarov can finish leaving the male to huff, “Brat, can’t even wait a minute.”
Slowly, Freed rises feeling nauseous and dizzy. While the other had every right to leave and choose his own path, the rune mage had kept hoping that maybe given time the other would change his mind and come back. That he’d realize that he still loved Freed.
But obviously that would not be the case.
He brings a hand to his mouth as he finds that he might very well end up throwing up from how he was suddenly feeling and ends up pitching forward. Arms encircle him keeping him from hitting the floor and he’d find himself gathered up. “Let’s go, baby. Definitely ain’t the place for ya right now.”
Bixlow’s voice seems to come from a distance and as if he was hearing it through static.
*~*~*~*~ *
The lacryma had given him a pretty good view of the hall and he’d certainly taken note of the male in the corner table. Freed would have to be there when he did this because things were going so well. Disconnecting it had less to do with the his grandfather’s voice and all to do with the fact that he’d been watching Freed’s reaction.
And it killed him inside.
Struggling with the want to hurl the item at the wall, he makes himself put it down. If that wasn’t bad enough, unbuttoning his shirt to stare at the insignia before reaching and pressing his palm over it. A low pulse of magic would be all that would be needed to make it vanish. Orange eyes squeeze shut a moment before he forces them open. No. This was what he had to do. They could not be a part of this, and he would not have it fall on them if it went bad.
That done, he closes his shirt before glancing at the coat sitting on the bed before reaching out and lightly brushing his fingers along the lining. There might be something to be said for the Dreyar men and liking fur but this coat had much more sentimental value. It was a gift from the three people who were hurting most in all of this especially the rune mage who’d probably talked the other two into helping him buy it.
Carefully, he folds it up making a decision on it and was sure that in some ways it was probably cruel and unusual but he couldn’t see it going anywhere else. And perhaps maybe, just maybe he hoped the other would see it as the quiet promise that he’d come back for it if he could.
*~*~*~*~*~*
He was completely out of his damn mind; that was the only thing that Bixlow could come up with for this set of actions. Tucking Freed into the couch and leaving his souls there with him, he’d left the apartment too keyed up with the others withdrawal from the guild. Pulling his visor down tightly more to feel the solid presence, he stalks the streets feeling a hair-span away from doing someone bodily harm; mostly the male he felt responsible for this.
It ends up with him on the wrong side of Magnolia which suits the Seith Mage just fine. More so when a group materializes out of the dark mouth of an alleyway. He was looking for trouble and it seemed that someone was willing to answer him. Fingers tightening into fists, he finds the thought of a fist-fight far more satisfying than throwing his magic. “Friend, I think you might be lost.”
The words earn his lips curving upwards. “Oh no, baby, I’m not.”
“What did you just call me?!”
Well, this one was certainly easily riled apparently. Good. “I called ya, ‘baby’,” he answers with a chuckle, “That bother ya? Should I try darlin’ then?”
A choked sound of rage would be all he’d get before the idiot charges at him swinging what appeared to be a chain. Bixlow tsks as he readies himself. Riffraff these days just had no sense of style or originality. Ah well.
Temper and the need to do someone harm would soon lend to the group ending up left in the alleyway bruised and banged-up and tied with the same length of chain he’d been threatened with. Dusting his hands off, Bixlow straightens before letting them slide into his pockets as he hums and continues walking.
There would be three more incidents before he’d calm down enough to go to his own apartment. Knuckles bruised and sporting a bloody lip from a lucky shot one of them got in, he finds his temper and his magics evened out enough to risk drawing his visor off. It had been a long time since he’d had this little control of himself.
“Took your temper out on the local vermin I see.” Evergreen’s voice startles him as he hadn’t paid enough attention to realize that there was someone else there.
“As opposed to what?” he counters as he shrugs off his cloak, “I mean really? Do ya think there is a reason for this, too?”
“Yes, actually.”
He gives her an incredulous expression. “Ever…”
“Listen to me, I know how that sounds…”
“It sounds insane.”
“Don’t interrupt!” she snaps before softening her tone, “Look, I know what it looks like but I can’t help but think that there is something else going on. We’ve trusted him thus far, right? Why not continue that?”
“Because if ya haven’t kept up with the score let me remind ya that he broke up with Freed, reclaimed the ring he gave ‘im, and oh now has withdrawn from Fairy Tail! How much more proof do ya need, baby?”
“I still think it’s not what it looks like.”
“Then ya have more faith in him than I do right now.”
“Well, of course I do. You’re having to handle Freed so I’ll just have to have faith for all of us.”
He thought she was being stupid about this, he truly did. But that didn’t stop him from also silently praying that she was right.
*~*~*~*~*
A box arrives for Freed three days later with no return address and no indication who it is from. Glancing at it, he contemplates not opening it and just leaving it on the table. However, curiosity gets the best of him and he carefully opens it a little afraid of what would happen when he did.
Pulling the flaps up, he stills because it wasn’t hard to figure out what this was. Slowly, he pulls the coat out. There is no note just this; one of the blond’s most recognizable items. Freed finds his heart clenching once more as he draws the fabric close clinging to the material. This was the item they’d gotten him the day they’d granted him the nickname the “Thunder God”. Getting it back, to Freed, seemed to bring it’s own message; I’m no longer part of your life. Or your god. Not anymore.
And that is a most unacceptable thought.
He’s still sitting there just holding the coat when he hears the door open. Looking up, he expects Bixlow but instead it’s Evergreen who pauses staring at what he’s holding. “He…sent that to you?”
Freed just buries his face deeper into the fabric inhaling deeply the familiar fragrance of the others cologne. Honestly, he didn’t want to believe that but who else would send it in such pristine condition? It lead to only one bitter conclusion; that it was Laxus way of making sure they knew he wasn’t coming back.
A light tug has him slowly glancing up at Evergreen who sighs at his expression. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she tells him firmly, “I mean it. I can’t say that I’m a mind reader or that I profess to know him better than anyone but nothing he’s done has made sense.”
“He changed his mind. There’s no crime in that.”
“I have a very hard time believing that he just randomly changed his mind. There was too much there.”
“Then what do you call this?” he demands waving the coat, “We got him this coat. Us. His team. His body guards! What do you think him sending this to me means?!”
“Hold onto it. Take care of it. I’ll return for it.” Freed stills and stares at her. “We did buy him that coat,” she continues glancing at him, “And we all know how much he adores it. He sent it to you, Freed, because you’re the reason for it, because you saw how much he wanted it and made sure he got it. It’s safest with you. If anything, it’s a promise that whatever this is isn’t what matters. I truly believe that it’s his way of telling you to wait and that he’s coming back.”
“Why send the coat though? Why not…”
She rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Because that would have to be returned once he’s done whatever this is that he’s doing. He’d want to give that back in person.”
There is a long period of silence before there’d come a soft, “I want…to believe that, Ever, but…” He looks away unable to voice the rest aloud.
What if you’re wrong? I don’t think I’d survive that.
*~*~*~*~*
His knuckles are bleeding, his face probably looked a sight, and there were various cuts and lacerations that needed tending to. And really, all he wanted was to limp himself back to the inn and crash. Vision swimming, it’s hard to put one foot in front of the other without fearing he was going to pitch forward and crash into the ground. But he stumbles and staggers back to the seedy place he’d been staying at that asked no questions and didn’t look twice.
Barely, he manages to get the door open and to the bed before falling onto it. The pain that causes draws only the merest sound from between his lips. He’d really over done it and was surprised that much magic being unleashed hadn’t brought anyone. He supposed it was either only a matter of time before someone was brave enough to check or someone stumbled upon the place and then certainly someone would be sent.
Because what they would find would definitely make them worry. The sheer amount of violence, rage, and just wrath was evident in the carnage he’d left behind. But as unconsciousness takes him, he can only find himself pleased that at least now they were no longer in danger. That he was no longer in danger.
Everything else was worth it for those thoughts alone.
Unsure how much time passes, his next foray into consciousness would find Laxus manacled to a bed, his wounds wrapped. A snort would escape him as he finds himself wondering just who had found him and decides it didn’t matter anyway. This was exactly why he’d wanted to keep the others out of it.
The far door opens as a rune knight enters. “Laxus Dreyar.”
“Suppose that’s me,” he remarks even though it wasn’t a question, “I take it that I’m in some sort of trouble or is this hospital staff known for being kinky?”
“You were found in the vicinity of a crime scene with quite suspicious injuries.”
“Yeah, kinda what happens when ya tryin’ to kill your old man,” he answers calmly. The alarmed expression makes him chuckle. “Didn’t think I’d say it outright? Please. I killed the bastard. He had it comin’.”
“Is that a confession?”
“Sure is. Glad he’s dead. Sorry ‘bout the mess but wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to just pop up somewhere. You understand don’t you?”
“You…are now under arrest.”
“’Course I am.” And it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered so long as that man did not go near Freed. Ever. And now he no longer could.
Whatever came next he’d accept wholeheartedly.
TBC