Archive of Our Own ^beta

The flier shoved into Freed’s hands mere seconds ago described a rather unique mission, at least, when compared with the ones Laxus usually took. It had already been explained to him, however, that it was the only S-Class mission available right now, and none of the other S-Class wizards were there to do it instead, therefore, it had fallen into Laxus’ hands. Usually, Laxus only takes on jobs that include fighting big monsters or something else equally “badass”, so to say that this one is out of his wheelhouse is not an understatement. Which is probably why he is so insistent on Freed coming with him. 

Not that Freed is particularly upset about it, especially since it isn’t very common anymore for it to be just the two of them on a mission together, rather than the entire Thunder Legion.

The mission as detailed by the flier was requesting the services of a wizard who could travel to the Western city of Rhododendron to investigate the cause of a strange illness that had taken hold of the citizens.

“Could be dangerous.” Laxus says, meeting Freed’s eyes as he hands the flier back to the lightning wizard. “No guarantees one or both of us doesn’t end up infected by whatever we’re investigating.”

Freed shrugs and looks down towards the table he’s sitting at, trying to mask the smile that comes to his face hearing Laxus worry about him. “There’s a risk of death in just about every mission we go on.” He responds, keeping his voice casual.

“So you’re coming with me?” Laxus asks, his voice tinted with just enough hope to make Freed’s heart skip a beat. 

“Of course.” Freed responds, standing up. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Laxus.”
He doesn’t miss the way Laxus smiles at the admission, and tries to ignore the stabbing pain at knowing that smile doesn’t mean what he wants it to.

“When do we leave?”

—

The city itself wasn’t too far away, and Freed and Laxus found themselves getting off the train after about a day’s journey, arriving only shortly after the sun had set. They were met at the station by a young woman who introduced herself as Dahlia. 

She’s not a very large person. Can’t be much taller than Lucy , Freed thinks as he looks at her, though her hair is as black as Gray’s and even longer than Evergreen’s. She’s smiling at them both in greeting, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. Normally Freed might be put off by such a thing, but the reason for their arrival in this city is for a pretty dire situation, so he can’t exactly blame her for not being genuinely happy.

Laxus introduces himself as the S-Class wizard who'd been sent to deal with this, and introduces Freed as his partner. Dahlia apparently had been sent by the city’s hospital to greet them and inform them of the situation, which Freed found slightly odd, as usually it would be someone more "in charge" so to speak who greets the wizards who come to help.

“It’s the strangest thing.” Dahlia explains as she leads them to the inn they've reserved for their stay in town. “People everywhere just start coughing up flowers, and then all of a sudden they drop dead! It’s horrible!” She shudders, as if the very thought of such a thing happening is enough to bring the disease near.

Freed can’t help but think she’s acting a little bit melodramatic over the whole thing, but he supposes he’s also not one to judge.

“Did you know any of the victims?” He asks. “If you could tell us about them, perhaps we can come up with some sort of connection between them all.”

“Oh, good thinking, man.” Laxus nods, slapping Freed on the back a couple of times. Freed tries to bite back the blush that threatens to come to his face from the compliment. Dahlia eyes the two of them curiously, which only deepens Freed’s embarrassment. 

“Well,” Dahlia begins. “I volunteer a lot at the city’s hospital, so I’ve seen most of the victims through there, though I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about them. But I can tell you everything I know about the disease, if you want. Oh! And I can introduce you to some of the doctors and nurses if they’re not too busy.”

“That’d be great.” Laxus replies, his words quickly followed up by a yawn.

“How about I drop by the inn tomorrow morning then.” Suggests Dahlia, eyeing both of them once again. “You two had a long journey, you must be ready to cozy up together.”

Freed’s face, having only seconds ago recovered from its previous blush, flushes about as bright red as his favorite coat. “Actually-” He begins. 

“Not together.” Laxus frowns. “Definitely not.”

Freed’s heart breaks a little at the vehement denial, despite being used to the fact that Laxus doesn’t see him that way.

“Oh, sorry for assuming.” Dahlia apologizes, still watching both of them with a curious expression. “You just seemed… close.”

Luckily Freed spots their inn just up ahead and is able to redirect the conversation before it gets any worse.

“There’s our place, see you in the morning, Dahlia. How about nine? See you at nine.” He says in a huff, ushering Laxus towards the inn, not bothering to wait for a response. 

Laxus laughs about the exchange once they’re alone in their room, but eventually his teases taper off when he sees that Freed doesn’t seem as amused by the whole thing. 

As Freed closes his eyes to sleep that night, he can’t help but sense a sort of eeriness to this mission, like something is going to go wrong. He’s sure that he’s just uncomfortable after the conversation with Dahlia, but knowing that doesn’t help the feeling dissipate. Usually he adores solo missions with Laxus, and prays for them to last as long as possible so he can go longer without having to share Laxus with anybody else. Tonight, however, his hopes lean more towards this particular mission endinh quickly. He doesn’t like that strange feeling in the air. He falls asleep before he can worry about it too much.

—

Freed wakes in the morning feeling like he had only just barely shut his eyes. It hadn’t been a restless sleep but it certainly wasn’t a fulfilling one. He finds himself feeling rather annoyed as he and Laxus head outside to meet Dahlia. 

His mood isn’t exactly boosted upon their arrival. Dahlia seems to have taken the denial of Freed and Laxus’ relationship as an invitation, as she’s dressed up way too cutesy- in Freed’s opinion- for somebody whose main activity for the day is to be the discussion of a deadly disease. Not to mention it makes Freed unconsciously grit his teeth when Dahlia greets both of them by latching herself to Laxus’s arm. And Freed’s heart twists when he sees that Laxus is making no moves to remove her. At least he doesn’t look happy about it.

“Good morning!” She chimes cheerily.

Freed purses his lips but says nothing. The three of them begin walking to the hospital, Dahlia leading them. Never letting go of Laxus’ arm, she tells them all about the mysterious disease that’s taken over the city. The part of Freed's mind dedicated to angrily hating anybody who dares flirt with Laxus tells him that for somebody who claims to only volunteer at the hospital sometimes, Dahlia sure knows quite a bit about this illness. But he decides to keep that opinion to himself, sure that any bad feelings about Dahlia are fueled simply by jealousy and heartache. Not to mention annoyance at the way she has a tendency to catch his eye and smile almost teasingly while she hangs off of Laxus. 

Based on her description, Freed and Laxus learn a few things about the strange illness:

• Nobody knows what it is or what causes it.
• Almost none of the victims knew each other or were connected in any significant way.
• It takes two weeks for the illness to fully spread, and when it finishes, the victim will die.
• It involves coughing up flowers, beginning with petals and ending with entire plants.

Freed feels a shiver travel up his spine at the thought; it sounds like a nightmarish way to die.

Dahlia introduces them to a few doctors and nurses at the hospital who tell them pretty much the same thing that Dahlia had, though they provide what little of the victims’ patient files that they can in the hopes that some sort of connection can be found. A source or cause, at least, is what they're hoping for, as since they cannot cure it they might hope to prevent it. One of the nurses manages to unstick Dahlia from Laxus’ arm, whisking her away to help out with a patient somewhere. Freed breathes a sigh of relief.

Speaking to the patients still in the hospital provides no further clues. Well, aside from one, though neither Freed nor Laxus is entirely sure how helpful it is. Apparently, all the people infected- at least the ones they could talk to- had actually visited the hospital only a few days before getting sick. Many of them guessed that they must have been passed the illness by someone else sick.

It makes sense, but somehow, Freed isn’t so sure. He and Laxus spend the rest of the day trying to tie every last known victim of the flower sickness, both dead and alive, to the hospital. Their research leads them to discover that while a great majority had visited before their infection, there were some outliers who hadn’t. In other words, they're pretty much back to square one.

They also find through speaking with the city coroner, that autopsies on the victims have shown no signs of any physical illness, aside from some scratches on the insides of their lungs and throats. 

Freed stands over a table inside their room at the inn that evening, dozens of papers with information about the victims and illness spread out before him. Nothing is adding up.

“Laxus,” He begins, breaking the silence of the room.

Laxus looks up from a book on flowers, trying to see if the types coughed up might provide any clues. So far nothing, just regular flowers: heliotropes, red carnations and roses, and yarrow seemed to be the most common, though there were other types amongst various people. 

“I’m beginning to suspect,” Freed continues, “that this isn’t an illness at all.”

Laxus frowns. “What else would it be?”

“A spell.” Freed answers simply. It’s the only thing he can think of that makes all their evidence add up. “Not one I’ve heard of, of course. It could be forbidden or lost magic. But I believe someone may be putting a spell on these people. Likely someone who works in the hospital, or perhaps a frequent patient.”

Laxus hums in thought. “It would explain why most people catch it at the hospital, but the doctors and nurses taking care of them are fine. And it accounts for the people who got it somewhere else.” He smiles. “Good thinking, Freed, I think you’re onto something. But who the hell would be doing something like this, and why?”

“That,” Freed says, “I don’t know. Tomorrow we ought to investigate the hospital staff more thoroughly, as they would be our most likely suspects. We should find out how many of them are wizards.”

“Good idea. Does that mean I can stop reading this damn book?” Laxus laughs. “The next chapter’s on flower language and I think it might be boring enough to make me wish I was the next victim of this stupid disease.”

Freed rolls his eyes. “Then let’s go to bed. I’ll read the chapter aloud to you as a bedtime story.”

Laxus laughs again. “Shut up.” He grins, throwing the book at Freed. Freed laughs too, picking the book up off the floor. It had landed open on the page about the meaning of heliotropes. Eternal love and devotion. Freed looks over at Laxus and scoffs at the words, trying to ignore the irony caked into the moment, and shuts the book.

—

The next day they decide to split up. Although Freed hates the idea of leaving Laxus alone during what could turn out to be a dangerous investigation, he also knows that the guy can handle himself; he’s not S-Class for no reason, after all. So it is that Laxus heads off toward the hospital to begin questioning the staff, while Freed goes to question families and friends of victims of the flower disease. He wishes Laxus good luck and warns him to be cautious. Laxus just pats his shoulder and teases him for being such a worry-wart.

Maybe it’s a good thing we’re splitting up , Freed thinks as they part ways, At least then he can’t make my heart ache any worse than it usually does .

He decides to start at the beginning, setting off towards the home of the first recorded victim of this strange illness. His name was Fox, and he had died about two months ago, the earliest case Freed had been able to find. Though for all he knows, there could have been more who just never told anybody that they were sick. Well, that aside, this is a good place to start.

Freed knocks on the front door of the address in Fox’s file, and a young man answers.

“Can I help you?” He asks. 

Freed nods. “Did you know a man named Fox Grove who used to live at this address?”

The man’s eyes droop. “Yes. He was my older brother. Why?”

Freed explains himself to the man, who listens at the doorstep curiously, eventually speaking up after a long pause following Freed’s story.

“Well,” He begins, “I can’t promise to give you the answers you want, but I can at least help connect my brother to the hospital, if that’s all you’re looking for. Although it’s a bit of a loose connection.”

Freed nods.

“Fox… well, he was hopelessly in love with one of the volunteers there: Dahlia. They’d gone to school together, and he’d been head over heels ever since. She never gave him the time of day, though. Honestly, the last thing I remember him doing before he got sick was asking her out.” He sighs. “She said no, of course, and until he told me about the flowers, I had stupidly assumed his sickness was more due to heartache than anything else.”

Freed thanks the man for his time and begins stopping by the homes of all their other mystery cases. He asks about Dahlia at each one, and every time without fail, Dahlia had known or at least met every last victim. 

Shit. Freed feels his blood go colder and colder with every passing "oh yes I know her" or similar comment. Laxus has been with her all day .

He doesn’t hesitate to begin sprinting towards the hospital. Perhaps out of fear, or perhaps because he’s running faster than he has in a very long time, but his breath is short and his lungs scream as he runs, but he doesn’t dare stop. Not until he knows Laxus is safe and Dahlia is stopped.

He runs directly into Laxus’ chest only a few feet away from the hospital entrance. Neither takes the time for a pleasant hello. Instead, both men look at each other and at the same time provide the same warning. 

“It’s Dahlia.”

—

“Where is she?” Freed asks breathlessly, unable to steady himself completely as Laxus begins to run somewhere else, Freed following close behind. 

“After I started asking questions around the hospital, I started to realize a hell of a lot of the answers I was getting led back to that bitch. She started acting weird too, like she knew I was onto her.” He picks up the pace a little bit, much to Freed’s dismay.

“Once victim number who-knows-what mentioned her name again, she pretty much bolted. I saw her run this way but I don’t know exactly where she went.”

“Hold on.” Freed commands, quickly inscribing the necessary runes onto himself to create a pair of wings. He grabs hold of Laxus and lifts them both into the air. Soon enough Laxus shouts, pointing at the ground, where a girl with flowing black hair is running toward the city center. 

Freed descends rapidly, trying to reach her before she disappears into the crowd below. Luckily their landing is intense enough to cause a few people to bolt on their own, but a couple of loud warning shouts from Laxus are enough to clear the area of everyone but the two Fairy Tail wizards and their target, who doesn’t look nearly as kind and helpful as she did on their arrival two days before. 

“You’re a wizard.” Laxus says accusingly, staring her down.

“Not like you.” Dahlia responds in a coy tone. “I don’t know much in the way of offensive magic. Just a few spells here and there.” She takes a step closer as she speaks. Both Freed and Laxus instinctually step back.

“So you’re the reason all those people have died.” Says Freed. “Why?”

Dahlia frowns. “It’s not malicious. Sure, I have no problem with their deaths but it’s not like it's fun or anything. I’m helping them. They’re suffering, so I’m just helping put them out of their misery.”

“Suffering?” Laxus asks, lightning beginning to crackle around his fingertips. “All those people were just living their lives. None of them were sick before they met you. What the hell kind of suffering did you think you were helping with?”

She smiles, a wicked glint in her eye. “Freed knows. Or at least, he will, once I help him.”

Laxus glances at Freed, who can only shrug in return. He has no idea what she could be talking about. A headache or something? It doesn’t really matter, anyway. She’s definitely got something wrong upstairs.

Dahlia seems to understand his confusion and just sighs, shaking her head. “You’ll understand eventually. Everyone does, in the end.”

Freed opens his mouth to speak, but Laxus goes first.

“As if I’d let you get your blood-stained hands on him!” He spits. “Now surrender before I knock you out with the power of a dragon slayer. Or worse.”

At the very least, Dahlia is smart enough to not fight back, and soon enough she’s being taken away, wrists shackled in sealing stone cuffs. As she disappears from sight, Freed kicks himself for not thinking to ask her if it was a disease or a spell she’d been causing.

Once everything has calmed down, and Laxus has collected their reward and chartered a magic-mobile to take them back to Magnolia, he grabs Freed’s arms nervously. Freed’s heart stutters at the sudden contact and the closeness of Laxus’ face. 

“You don’t know what she was talking about right? You’re not suffering from something I don’t know about?”

Freed shakes his head. “Nothing. I can only assume it was a very strange bluff.” Unless you count my suffering at the hands of my own heart , he adds mentally, prying himself from Laxus’ grasp before he gets too overwhelmed at the touch of his best friend. 

“Good.” Laxus sighs, throwing open the door to the magic-mobile. “Keep it that way.”

Freed smiles and nods, not wanting to distress the other man further.

He’s relieved knowing that nobody else will have to suffer at the hands of Dahlia, and even more relieved to be leaving Rhododendron city far, far behind. 

His sigh of relief in the back of the car turns to a slight cough, the itch in the back of his throat appearing from nowhere. 

“Dude.” Laxus frowns. “This is the worst possible timing for you to have a cough.”

Freed laughs. “I know, I know. But I don’t taste any local flora so I think we’re safe.”

Laxus laughs as well. “Seriously.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Of course.” Freed promises, suppressing the urge to cough again.

—————————————————————————

The following day, Freed finds himself coughing again. It’s not a major cough or anything, nor does he feel ill in any regards aside from the tickle in his throat that won’t seem to go away, so it doesn’t worry him. He figures that if anything he must have caught something minor during all that time he and Laxus were investigating inside the hospital. Terrible timing, and honestly more of an inconvenience than anything. He hates getting sick, which is why he rarely allows it to happen, as it takes away precious time he could otherwise be spending with Laxus. Freed decides to just pound some cough syrup and get plenty of rest, assuming the beginnings of this cold will just fade away like usual.

It did not.

Over the next few days, Freed feels his cough getting worse and worse. He somehow manages to hide it from the Thunder Legion, most importantly from Laxus, as he hates being fussed over and worried about more than anything. He’d rather not be a burden when given the choice. However, it’s getting harder and harder to hide the hacking that escapes his throat now in fits every few hours. 

Still, though, he can’t help but hope that it will go away, since again, he just doesn’t feel sick in any other way. The people in Rhododendron had all died or been dying, and Freed certainly doesn’t feel so weak that he thinks an early grave is in his near future. 

That is, he had hoped his symptoms would fade until this evening would stand to prove him wrong. 

Freed stands in the kitchen, helping Bixlow with the last of their dinner preparations, Laxus and Evergreen chatting in the dining room and waiting for dinner to be served. Bixlow is talking about the latest mission he had just gotten back from, describing the way the women of the town had been so grateful for his help that they had literally thrown themselves at his feet. Freed could only roll his eyes. He believes that maybe one or even a couple of women had thanked him, maybe even while flirting, but Bix had always been an over-exaggerator to the max.

“Anyway,” Bixlow was saying as Freed began to scoop various things onto some plates, “they weren’t really my type, so I was all like, ‘Sorry, babies, but I gotta go’, and they were just cryin’ and cryin’.”

Freed laughs. “I’m sure they-” He began, stopping himself as he felt another coughing fit coming on. He holds it back as best as he can. “Hold on, Bixlow. Would you mind finishing up these plates? I’ve just remembered I have to go check on… on a potion I was attempting to brew. I wouldn’t want it to become overly potent like that invisibility potion Lucy had.”

Bixlow frowns. “Wasn’t hers sittin’ for like seven years?” He asks skeptically. But Freed is already rushing towards his room. He managed to throw up a noise canceling rune before the coughing got to him. He falls forward, landing on his hands and knees, body doubling over and wracked with pain as he hacks and coughs what feels like both of his lungs coming up and out through his throat. 

When the coughing subsides, Freed stays bent over until he’s able to regain his breath, slowly prying his eyes open again, damp with tears from the effort of the attack. He feels a terrible chill run down his spine and a churning nausea crawling through his stomach as his gaze lands on the floor beneath him. Laying on the ground are three flower petals. Two yellow, one red, all varying sizes and each fully-formed and completely real as if plucked straight from a flower and placed beneath his head. Freed shudders, picks up the petals, tosses them in the small trash can by his door, and walks out to join everyone for dinner.

He doesn’t eat much, claiming he doesn’t feel well, which isn’t far from the truth. Evergreen offers to clean up so Freed can get some rest after eating, and Laxus asks if he thinks he’s getting sick, his voice sounding concerned. Freed just shakes his head and promises he’s fine, and that he probably just needs to sleep.

He can’t let anyone know what’s happening. He just has to find a way to fix it before it's too late. Besides, if Laxus ever found out that of all things Freed had caught whatever Dahlia was doing to the people of Rhododendron, he would definitely blame himself since he was the one to bring Freed along in the first place, which Freed can absolutely not let happen. Thus, this is a problem to deal with in private. And he knows exactly who to ask in helping to look for a cause and cure.

—

“Hey Freed!” Levy’s cheerful voice rings out as Freed enters the library where he was certain she would be. The script wizard had only seconds before been hunched over a desk scribbling something down on paper, barely visible for all the stacks upon stacks of books surrounding her. When Freed had come in, she had looked up and smiled brightly, always happy to see one of her guildmates.

Though outsiders might not notice it, Freed and Levy are actually surprisingly good friends. Using extremely similar types of magic to each other had created a bond, alongside lots of time spent working together to decode texts or create or undo various text-based spells. Freed certainly couldn’t claim to be as close with her as he is with the Thunder Legion, or as she is with Gajeel or Lucy, but the two are good friends nonetheless. Which is exactly why it is Levy Freed had decided to turn to. His friendship with her combined with her incredible researching skills would assuredly pair nicely to put a stop to this strange illness before it became too late. 

Levy’s smile drops as she seems to register that Freed isn’t here for a simple friendly chat.

“Is something wrong?” She asks. “You don’t look so good.”

Freed responds with a tight-lipped smile. “You would be correct.”

He provides Levy with a description of the mission in Rhododendron, a list of symptoms that the people in the city were suffering from, as well as a recounting of the strange goodbye given by Dahlia. He then hesitates, takes a breath, and admits to her that he, too, has been suffering from a cough which has only recently begun to produce flower petals. Luckily for him, or perhaps unluckily, he doesn’t have to do much to prove his point, as almost immediately after he finishes speaking, his knees buckle as he doubles over, choking on flower petals as they come up again. 

Holding his weight against the desk Levy had been sitting at, Freed stares down at the loose pile of flower petals below him and grimaces. 

Levy stares in horror for a moment before snapping out of it and rushing to his side. “Oh my god, Freed!” She exclaims, her voice cracking with sheer worry. “This is awful! Are you alright? What did Laxus say?”

Freed shakes his head and straightens his back. “I haven’t told him. I haven't told anybody aside from you. I… I don’t want to worry Laxus. He’ll blame himself, I’m sure of it.”

“Freed, you have to tell him. You can’t keep this a secret, it could be serious!”

“I’ll tell him once I know what it is and what I can do about it. You’ll help me with finding that out, won’t you, Levy?”

Levy sighs. “Fine. But we’re going to Porlyusica.”

Freed agrees reluctantly. Porlyusica’s medical knowledge will be a great help, but he’d really rather get as few people involved as he can. But he knows Levy is right, the older wizard will definitely be of use in figuring this out. He helps Levy put away the books she had been using, her previous task now shelved until Freed’s mystery disease can be understood, then the two of them begin their journey to the healing mage’s home.

—

After turning Freed and Levy away three times without even giving them the chance to say hello, Porlyusica finally relents and opens the door. It seems she can tell just by looking that something is wrong, and the two wizards are quickly ushered inside. 

“So, all of this started because of that wizard, Dahlia?” Porlyusica clarifies once Freed has finished repeating the same spiel he had given Levy a few hours previous.

“Yes.” Freed confirms with a nod. “And I fear that despite the fact that she’s locked away, I’m only getting worse.” His fears are confirmed when seconds later he falls into yet another coughing fit, producing petals once more.

When he looks up again, he is met by the horrified expression on Porlyusica’s face. She quickly reverts to her usual resting face of general displeasure, though her eyes remain filled with wild concern. She turns and rummages through some cabinets for a minute until she finds what she is looking for, handing Freed a small bottle filled with some slightly shimmering pink liquid.

“Take this two times a day until we can determine what this is and how to properly treat it. Until then, this should help suppress any actual illness from taking over, provided this really is an illness.”

“What else would it be?” Levy asks, tilting her head. 

“I’m not sure.” Responds Porlyusica. 

“A spell.” Says Freed. “Though I still am unsure if that’s really the case.”

“Exactly.” Porlyusica nods sagely. “That being said, it would be wise to expand our research beyond simply the medical world just in case.” She looks pointedly at Levy and Freed. “I can assume you both will be helping me look into this rather than just dumping it on this old woman’s shoulders, right?”

“Of course.” Freed and Levy echo each other.

“I’ll start off in the guild hall’s library. Freed, why don’t you travel back to Rhododendron and see if there’s any more information you can glean. If we exhaust those resources we can ask around at other guilds too.” Levy suggests. Her voice is serious yet cheerful, excited for a new research project but understanding of the costs if their search is fruitless.

Despite searching through every single book and document in Rhododendron that even slightly mentions something that could be even tangentially related to the disease, the most Freed could find were death records and gardening tips. He sighs heavily and shuts the back cover of the forty-third book today to remind him that red roses are flower language for passion and romance. Almost immediately afterward, he was consumed by yet another coughing fit; his third one in the last two hours to produce more fistfulls of flower petals. Defeated and unsure that he’s ever going to figure this out before it’s too late, he heads for the train station and hopes that he doesn’t upheave too many flowers on the ride home.

Levy meets him at the train station, which as it turns out is a good thing, as he ends up collapsing as soon as he tries to step out the doors of the train, coughing so hard he completely loses his breath. On his hands and knees it’s all Freed can do not to vomit as flower petals pour from between his lips, making him unable to so much as breathe in. His vision begins to darken as Levy rushes to his side and helps hold him steady until the coughing finally subsides. When he looks down again, through wheezing, shallow breaths, he sees not only flower petals, but also small buds of flowers unbloomed. Some even speckled with blood. He shudders and coughs again.

Levy helps him toward a bench where he sucks in great, gasping mouthfuls of air, steadying himself. He feels pathetic, and tears threaten his eyes. He only feels grateful that Laxus isn’t there to see how rapidly everything is declining.

Neither he nor Levy speaks as they make their way to the guild hall once more, aside from Levy telling him they ought to meet up with Porlyusica to debrief.

Levy locks the door behind the two of them as they enter the medical wing, Porlyusica looking up from her desk where she had been taking notes on a book.

“Ah, you’ve both returned. Did either of you find anything of use these last few days, or have you come up with as little as I have?” Porlyusica asks, sounding a bit defeated.

Freed shakes his head. “I’m afraid I have nothing as well. It seems whatever disease this is has never been studied before.”

“That’s because it’s not a disease.” Levy says.

Freed and Porlyusica turn towards her, surprised. Levy continues. “I was searching the Magic Council’s archives. Lucky me I still have a few friends there who let me sneak in. Anyway, I found what we were looking for tucked away in a book there, though how the Dahlia girl you talked about, Freed, got ahold of this information I really don’t know.”

Freed gestures his hands impatiently. “Well? If it isn’t a disease, what is it? Is it curable?”

Levy’s face darkens, her gaze trails toward the floor. “It’s… It’s a spell. A black magic spell that’s been completely banned for hundreds of years. Even the Magic Council barely had record of it, probably because they don’t want anyone to even know what it is, it’s so dangerous.”

Freed feels his blood going cold. The way Levy is speaking, well, it isn’t exactly filling him with hope for the future. Not to mention, he had feared this was a spell back when he and Laxus were investigating in Rhododendron, but had begun to hope it wasn’t the case.

“It’s called Hanahaki.” Levy explains. “A forbidden spell that affects those who suffer from an unrequited love, causing them to cough up flowers until-” She takes a breath and closes her eyes. “Until they die.”

“Death… is inevitable, then.” Freed says, not bothering to ask. If there was a viable cure, Levy would have said it up top. It’s a very strange thing, to be told that you are going to die. Freed hadn’t really expected to know what it feels like to experience that, even knowing the fate of the villagers in Rhododendron. He supposes he should have predicted that it would come to this, but nobody actually believes they are doomed. Not really.

Levy’s voice perks his ears again, however.

“Not necessarily.” Says the script wizard. I have more details, and I think you ought to hear them all. Porlyusica, you too. Any information could be useful in coming up with our own solution.”

Freed and Porlyusica both take a seat, Levy standing before them like she’s going to give a school lecture, rather than providing a detailed description of Freed’s soon-to-be demise.

“Here’s what I know. The spell lasts two weeks. As it progresses, the target will cough up flower petals, then flower buds, and eventually full flowers, at which point, the afflicted will die, choking to death, usually, though I think if you survive the actual flowers the spell kills you itself anyway. Although, there are two known ways that those under the spell can be saved.”

“Well?” Asks Porlyusica. “What are they? We have to get started quickly, as by Freed’s timeline, we only have about five or six days at best before the spell kills him.”

“Way to stay positive.” Freed frowns, deadpan.

“No, Porlyusica is right, we need to figure this out quickly, especially because I’m not sure you’re going to like your options here, Freed.” Levy says.

“Well then hurry up.” Freed commands. “I can’t be away from the Thunder Legion for much long, they’ll get suspicious.”

Levy sighs. “The first way the spell can be nullified is through reciprocation of feelings. This one can be difficult, I’ve noticed, as you have no control over it yourself. Reading these records, well, it was really difficult. People who had feelings for someone who didn’t feel the same way was most common, but I also saw records of this affecting those who desired friendships, children who were unwanted by parents, things like that. So if you know what your feelings are caused by and who they’re about, Freed, maybe just telling them how you feel could cure you! It’s a gamble, but it’s not impossible, right?”

Freed purses his lips and shakes his head. “It is impossible. Trust me, Levy. This person doesn’t feel the same way about me, and I’ve long since accepted that fact, even if my feelings won’t go away. And I’m certainly not about to tell him how I feel, only to be rejected and suffer in both unrequited love and heartbroken rejection in the days leading up to my death.” He gives a tight-lipped smile to Levy and takes a breath, calming himself. “I appreciate the effort, but there will have to be another way. This one is simply impossible, and I know that for a fact.”

Levy looks downcast at this information, but soldiers on. “In that case, the second option is effective, but it’s…” She pauses. “There is a counter-spell. But the only way it can work is by removing your ability to feel love entirely, or else the effects of the Hanahaki spell might come back.” She looks up, and meets Freed’s eyes with one of the saddest looks he’s ever seen on Levy’s face. “I won’t lie to you Freed. I think you should do this if Porlyusica and I can’t come up with another solution.”

“I sense a ‘but’ forming.” Freed says, dreading what’s to come.

Levy sighs. “But, in the few records I could find of the people who chose the counter-spell, every last one of them committed suicide within the next few years of their lives.”

That last remark settles a dark, grim, and overwhelmingly quiet cloud over the room. Finally Freed just nods his head. “I understand.”

“But it doesn’t have to end like that for you, Freed.” Levy insists. “I’m going to do everything I possibly can to figure this out and save you. I know Porlyusica will too, right?” She asks, looking in the older wizard’s direction.

Porlyusica nods. “Of course. I wouldn’t even fathom a future in which I let you die unless I’ve exhausted every resource on Earthland first.”

“Exactly.” Says Levy. “But still, Freed. I’m begging you. If we can’t find anything to help, let us do the counter-spell on you. It’s better to have you alive than not, no matter what happens.”

“I-” Freed starts. “I have to think about it, alright. But in the meantime, please, please do not tell anybody the true nature of this curse. If- if Laxus were to find out he would blame himself for the rest of his life, all because I can’t keep my own heart in control.” 

He coughs a few times, taking Levy’s outstretched hand to steady himself. “Please, Levy. I can’t let him believe it’s his fault for not loving me in the same way.”

Freed doesn’t bother trying to keep Laxus’ name out of the conversation now. It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, he’s sure he’s not very good at being subtle.

“Fine.” Levy agrees. “But you can’t keep your sickness a secret forever. Everyone will find out one way or another. But I promise not to speak on the cause.”

“Nor will I.” Porlyusica says.

“Thank you.” Freed stands. “I should go home. The Legion will be worried about me, and I have a lot of thinking to do.”

Levy offers to walk him home, clearly worried about his health, but Freed refuses. He can’t let himself be so weak. He can walk home from the guild hall. He may be a dying man, but at least he can do that much. Freed collapses only once before reaching the Thunder Legion house, coughing blood into his hands and having to dip them in the river to wash it off so nobody would see.

Like a damn dramatic character in an old novel , he snarks to himself. Pathetic .

He greets everybody warmly as he enters his home. Laxus even gives him a bear hug, claiming to have missed him in the few days he was gone. Freed wonders grimly if these next few days might be his last, and soaks up every last minute of time with his friends that he can. He tries not to notice the way his heart still beats louder every time Laxus is near. He tries not to think about how that alone is the reason he is dying.

—————————————————————————

For the next two days, Freed is able to continue to hide his affliction from the world, and more importantly, from Laxus. It’s not easy, he has to run to his room and throw up a silencing rune circle around himself before every coughing fit, but so far he’s always made it in time, even if just barely. However, his fits are getting more and more difficult to sense coming, and not only that, but they’re becoming more and more frequent as well. Petals are becoming decreasingly common, and buds and leaves have almost completely taken their place, which Freed can only assume is a sign that the spell’s effect is growing stronger. By his count, he only has about three days left. Four if he’s lucky and miscounted originally, though he doesn’t think that’s the case. He begins to wonder if he should update his will.

He also finds that he’s beginning to run out of room in his trash can to put the flowers.

Freed walks through the kitchen helping carry plates out to the table. Whenever all the members of the Thunder Legion are home at once, Bixlow likes to make everyone have breakfast together, and even pulls out his rarely seen cooking skills to set it up. The smell of bacon fills the air, the sizzle of the oil is still audible over the sounds of Laxus and Evergreen chatting at the table. Laxus is saying something about wanting to find a good job request that all four of them can take together, because it’s been so long since the Legion had a chance to do a job all at once. Freed smiles to himself. It’s a beautiful, peaceful morning. One that he gets to spend with his closest friends, and one that makes him forget his fate that is to come so soon if Levy and Porlyusica should fail. 

The coughing hits him like an out of control magic-mobile. Freed falls to his knees, the plate of food in his hands hitting the floor and shattering. Hacking, choking coughs wrack his body with pain, flowers cascading from his mouth like a raging waterfall. They taste like a disgusting mix of perfume and blood, and the sensation is enough to bring tears to his eyes, falling down his face to humiliate him further. He can’t breathe in, but the coughs do not subside, creating an almost dry-heaving effect in his lungs that makes his vision go dark. 

Freed can barely see or hear the world around him as his body finally betrays him. Although, he can still see the way Laxus jumps to his feet, the way he runs over at top speed. Uncaring about the broken porcelain scattered on the floor, the lightning wizard drops to his knees and wraps Freed in his arms. Freed is still spitting up blood and petals, desperately trying to regain his breath, more tears falling as he realizes he must be destroying Laxus’ clothing. Laxus doesn’t let go of him, though, for which Freed is grateful, yet ashamed of.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Freed pulls himself away.

“I- I’m sorry.” He mutters shakily. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

He looks down at the discarded bouquet beneath him. He’d now read enough books on flowers during his research to recognize each one. Red carnations and roses, yarrow, heliotropes, and some leaves. Not to mention all the blood.

Freed looks up to see horror drawn taut across Bixlow and Evergreen’s faces, and a look of incredible sadness spreading across Laxus’.

“Freed.” Laxus breathes. “How… how long has this been happening?”

Freed closes his eyes. “Since the mission. I’m sorry Laxus. I had hoped that by now we would have figured it out, cured it, but-” He coughs again, though this time less seriously. Only a few petals fall. “But all we’ve managed to find out is that it’s hopeless.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Laxus demands. “Who the hell was more important to tell than me?”

“I’m sorry!” Freed apologizes again. “I told Levy and Porlyusica. I had hoped they would be more apt at research than myself in discovering a cure.” He can see the hurt and anger beginning to form in Laxus’ eyes. “Don’t blame them for not telling you.” Freed insists. “I’m the one who made them promise to keep quiet. I didn’t want to worry anyone, least of all you, Laxus. I feared you would blame yourself.” He sighs. “Perhaps it was foolish of me.”

“It was fucking stupid of you. But at least now I can help. We’ll all help.” Laxus says firmly, helping Freed to his feet. Bixlow and Evergreen both nod in agreement. 

“I’ll do anything I can to help you out.” Evergreen says. “Even if it means turning you to stone so that we have more time to research.”

“And have all of you out-age me for eternity? I don’t think so.” Freed frowns.

“Well, if you die, I can always put your soul into one of my babies so we can always have you around!” Bixlow laughs, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Evergreen punches him in the arm.

“Sorry. But the offer’s on the table if you want it, baby.”

Freed finds himself smiling a bit at that. “Thanks, Bixlow. I actually appreciate that.”

“Well if we’re done being morbid,” Laxus begins, rolling his eyes, “We’ve gotta get you to the guild hall so you can get help.”

“I’m fine.” Freed says resolutely. “I would rather stay home.”

“No way!” Evergreen shouts. “You have to go to the medical wing. You’re sick!”

Freed continues to protest, but finds himself too weak to fight back physically, and is essentially carried to the guild hall over Laxus’ shoulder. In any other situation he would be over the moon to be handled so roughly by the dragon slayer, but at the moment it’s just embarrassing.

“Please let me go home, Porlyusica.” Freed whines as he’s set up in one of the beds in the hospital room. “I would really rather not spend my final days cooped up like this. At least let me rest in my own bed.”

“I understand how you feel.” Porlyusica sighs. “But right now your friends are right. You’re barely strong enough to stand on your own. I need to watch over you while Levy and I work.”

As much as Freed would like to protest, he knows she’s right. At least his final days will be in the guild hall, technically. It may not always be the same building, but the guild has served as his home for most of his life, certainly even more so than the Thunder Legion house, so he tells himself that it’s not so bad, dying here.

“Fine.” He finally agrees reluctantly.

Porlyusica ushers Laxus, Evergreen, and Bixlow out the door. “You can all visit later, right now I need to run some tests.”

“Wait.” Freed says as his three friends are halfway into the hall. They all look back at him. “Please. Don’t tell anybody about this. I’m sure everyone will know that I’m sick quickly enough, but I don’t want anyone to worry themselves knowing it’s a spell and that I’m… well, you know, dying.”

“You’re not dying.” Laxus says through gritted teeth, almost like he’s willing it to be true through sheer force. 

“Laxus is right.” Says Evergreen. “You’re going to be okay, I just know it. But in the meantime, we promise to keep as quiet as one of my statues, alright?” Even Bixlow looks like he’s willing to keep his mouth shut, which does make Freed feel better.

“Thank you.” Freed smiles, and Porlyusica shuts the door with a huff. 

“Honestly.” She scoffs. “All these young wizards today have no sense of when people need their rest.”

Freed nods, but continues to stare at the closed door. Everybody he knows, everybody he loves, is just on the other side. Most of them don’t even know they might never see him again, and those that do know that there’s nothing they can do to stop it. He can’t help but feel as though the door to the hallway shutting was the same as watching the long life he could have lived be cut off. He’d known for a while now that he is dying, but it’s still strange to have it really sink in like this. Freed shuts his eyes and lays back in bed. He’s pretty sure he feels another cough coming on.

—

In the morning, Freed is woken by the door to the medical wing bursting open, literally having been kicked down, alongside the sound of Lucy’s voice weakly protesting the action, and Porlyusica’s voice shouting angrily.

“Natsu!” Both voices echo. 

“What?” Natsu grins. “I’m just here to visit my old buddy!” The fire dragon slayer turns toward Freed, still grinning. “Heard you were sick, man. That sucks! D’ya think it would help if I set you on fire?”

Freed can only blink at him, unable to process the idiocy coming out of his mouth like usual. Luckily, Lucy knows better how to deal with it and punches him squarely in the shoulder. “What the hell is that supposed to do!?” She shouts.

“To burn the sickness out of him, duh!” Natsu claims, exasperated. “Like how you gotta sweat out a fever, but double the speed because he’s on fire!”

“Great idea, Natsu!” Happy exclaims.

“You’re just as stupid as he is, cat.” Lucy growls. She turns her attention to Freed. “Sorry we burst in like this, we just thought we would say hi and wish you well. How are you feeling? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get sick before.”

Freed smiles. Lucy is a good friend, and he’s glad to see her, and is even more grateful that she actually knows how to be calm.

“I’m alright, really. I suppose because I rarely get sick, when I do it just hits me particularly hard. Thank you for stopping by.”

“Of course!” Lucy smiles back. “You’ll probably be seeing a lot of visitors over the next couple days. Everyone is worried about you, so you should probably hurry up and get better soon.”

“I’m certainly trying.” He responds. “But you should tell everybody to stop fretting. The whole reason I didn't mention being ill was because I didn’t want to concern anybody.”

“Yeah?” Natsu asks. “Well tell that to Laxus, would ya? He’s pretty much worn a hole through the floor of the guild hall with how much he’s pacing around grumblin’ your name.”

“He’s worried about youuuuu.” Happy teases in a sing-song voice. “He’s in looooove.”

Freed feels his face begin to burn as hot and red as Natsu’s flames. Happy looks like he’s going to start teasing again, but Lucy grabs him out of the air and puts a hand over his mouth.

“We should get going and send another group along.” She says. “But seriously Freed, I hope you feel better soon, the guild just isn't the same when someone’s not around, especially you.”

“Yeah, dude! Bein’ sick sucks, so hurry up and get better!” Natsu beams. 

Freed gives them both his best smile in return, though it’s a guilty one, as he can’t help but feel horrible knowing that he’s lying to all of them about being okay.

The guilt only piles on as more people visit. Gajeel and Lily stop by. Gajeel performs a get-well-soon song, which admittedly does make Freed laugh despite how terrible it is. His laughter soon fades when he realizes that Gajeel’s presence means that Levy hasn’t even told her own boyfriend what’s going on. Gray and Juvia stop by as well, delivering a card that Gray had gotten most of the guild to sign and a home-made plushie of a cat that Juvia had made to cheer him up. Erza’s visit does surprise him a little, as she’s not very good at handling things like this, but Wendy is with her, offering to see if her healing magic might work. In the end, she does try, but it fails, of course, for which she apologized through near tears until Erza and Carla took her away.

Mirajane and Master Makarov too come by. Mira delivers some soup, and Makarov delivers a stern speech about the importance of health, though Freed could tell from the wavering of his voice that it was taking every last bit of self-control he has to stop himself from becoming overly emotional. He’s always cared for the lives of his children strongly. Freed can only imagine how hurt Makarov will be when he finds out Freed has passed. 

Most of the guild ends up making their way in and out, leaving cards, or in some cases, ironically, flowers. Only a few faces don’t appear, though Freed isn’t particularly surprised. Gildarts, after all, is nearly always gone, and he knows for a fact a few others are out on missions right now. Nobody who comes to give their well-wishes stays for longer than a few minutes. After all, as far as anybody out there is aware, Freed is only sick with something slightly worse than a cold. Nobody knows that he’s supposed to die tomorrow.

Nobody but Levy, Porlyusica, and the Thunder Legion, that is.

And the Thunder Legion is not taking it lightly. Unlike his other guests, Laxus, Evergreen, and Bixlow spend every last minute they can with him. They usually rotate out with each other, like they’re keeping watch so that when the Grim Reaper makes his appearance, they can just fight him off. Porlyusica has long since learned she has no way of keeping them out, and allows them to stay, oftentimes in her place, as there’s really nothing she can do for Freed other than watch him herself. Freed doesn’t complain about the bodyguarding. He appreciates the company, and as much as he hates how sad and guilty Laxus always looks, he really doesn’t mind being doted on by him. 

He can only hope that it isn’t Laxus who finds him when he finally dies.

—

On the morning of his final day, Freed wakes to what he at first assumes is an empty room. It’s silent, aside from the ambient sounds of the world outside through the window. Birds chirping, people walking along the street headed to wherever they go in the mornings. It’s just an average day, nothing unusual about it, which only serves to put a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that life will go on the same as it always does, even without him. Laxus will go on, never even knowing that Freed died because his love was too strong and his heart too weak.

He pushes himself upright, only noticing then that he isn’t actually alone. He feels a solid weight on one of his legs, and looks down to see Laxus, sleeping soundly, the same concerned expression he’s had for days plastered on his features even while unconscious. Guilt eats at Freed thinking about how he’s the cause of that distress. That same guilt consumes him further when he thinks of how despite hurting Laxus like this, he feels loved like he’s never felt before knowing that his best friend cares so much about him that he’s willing to sleep hunched over in a hospital chair to keep watch over him rather than going home.

Freed lets out a breath and tentatively reaches forward, gently running his hands through Laxus’ soft blond hair. He pulls his hand back reflexively when the door to the medical wing swings open, though it's only Levy.

“Freed.” She says quietly, her voice trembling and her eyes watery with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t do it. No matter what I tried, no matter what Porlyusica and I came up with, there’s just no other way to stop the spell.”

Freed had been expecting as much; he had long since lost hope on finding a new cure, but it still stings a bit to hear out loud in finality.

“That’s okay.” He responds, hoping his voice doesn’t crack. “You did everything you could, which I appreciate.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Levy practically shouts, quieting herself when she looks at Laxus, still sleeping at Freed’s bedside. “Don’t talk like you’re just giving up. Like you’re going to die!”

Freed opens his mouth to speak, but Levy cuts him off. “Stop it. I know you think you have to die, but there’s still the counter-spell. Please Freed, the guild can’t lose you.” She gestures to Laxus. “ He can’t lose you.”

Freed can only shake his head. “I’m sorry, Levy, but I can’t do it. I refuse. Thank you for everything, and… and I hope that you won’t blame me for my decision.”

Levy blinks and her cheeks streak with tears. “Stubborn idiot.” She cries, and turns for the door.

Freed slumps back against the bed and tries not to let tears of his own fall. He knows it’s the right decision, but it doesn’t make it easy. A voice snaps him out of his misery-wallowing after a few moments.

“What the hell was she talking about? A counter-spell? And you’re refusing it?” Laxus asks, sounding both confused and angry.

“You were awake.” Is all Freed can muster up in response.

“Yeah. I woke up when Levy started talking. Now explain why the hell there’s a way out of this alive and you’re saying no.”

His anger is like a knife through the heart. The last thing on Earthland Freed could ever want is his final moments to be spent having Laxus upset with him.

“Please, Laxus. Try to understand-”

“Understand what, exactly?” Laxus interrupts. “That there’s a way for you to survive and you’re refusing it?”

“Yes!” Freed exclaims. “Because I would rather be dead than suffer the drawbacks of this counter-spell.”

Laxus levels him with his eyes. “Then talk.” He says coldly. And so Freed does.

He sighs. “The spell itself, it has to do with love. I can’t explain further, or rather, I won’t. But the counter-spell deals with the effects of Hanahaki itself by completely removing the ability of the affected to feel love at all.” He pauses, but Laxus doesn’t speak, so he continues. “Romantically, I would be able to deal with that. But what I simply cannot do is live the rest of my life unable to love anybody or anything. You have to understand Laxus, my life would have no meaning. The guild that raised me… of course I would still care for it, master, and everyone else, but I would not be able to love them anymore. You, Ever, and Bixlow, I would never be able to care for as deeply as I have for years. Even something as simple as waking up in the morning will have lost something special.” Freed swallows. “I can’t live like that, Laxus. I can’t. My survival would mean nothing and I refuse to allow that to happen. I would rather die being able to love my friends… to love you , than to live on knowing what I once had and lost.”

Laxus stares at him, his expression unreadable. When he finally speaks again, his voice is weak like Freed has never heard it.

“There has to be something else. Anything.”

Freed shakes his head once more. “The only other options are death and-” He stops himself. “It doesn’t matter. It’s impossible.”

Laxus takes his hand. “Nothing is impossible. Tell me.”

But Freed can’t. He can’t put that kind of pressure and guilt onto Laxus’ shoulders. The man already daily struggles still under the weight of the battle of Fairy Tail from years ago, Freed simply can’t add the hardship of knowing that it’s because he doesn’t feel the same way that Freed is dying.

“I’m sorry, Laxus.” He says again with finality. “It’s just not possible, and I’ve long since come to terms with that.”

“So then what, Freed. Am I supposed to just sit here and accept that you’re going to die? That there’s nothing I can do about it?!” Laxus shouts, his voice warped with pure distress. 

“Yes!” Freed shouts back. “I don’t want to die either, Laxus, but that’s what’s going to happen and I-” His outburst is cut off by a cough, followed by a legion more. Freed feels as though he’s vomiting an entire kitchen’s worth of knives. His head is fuzzy and light, his vision dizzy, his stomach churning, and his lungs burning like they’ve been set on fire. Laxus holds his shoulders, clearly not knowing what to do, but Freed can barely even process the touch. The coughing comes through like a rolling tidal wave, flowers escaping him like an unstoppable rainshower. All he can think is that he’s going to die. He’s going to die and the last thing he will have ever done is argue with Laxus. His Laxus. 

The coughing becomes more like a choking sob as he realizes this. He doesn’t want to die, certainly not like this. He doesn’t want to die never having told Laxus how he feels. He doesn’t want to die without becoming an S-Class wizard.

He just doesn’t want to die. 

The flowers slow, and his breath returns to him. He gasps and coughs, now hanging over Laxus’ shoulder. The dragon slayer is holding him tightly, shaking.

“Please, Freed. Fuck. Don’t die. Please. Don’t die. You can’t.” He protests weakly into Freed’s neck. Freed doesn’t dare move, but he makes sure to take a long breath so that Laxus at least knows the person he’s holding isn’t a corpse.

“You can’t die, okay? I never got to tell you that-” He holds Freed a little tighter. “That I love you.”

Freed freezes. What? That's… not possible. He must be hallucinating in his final moments, how pathetic.

But Laxus continues, his grip tightening on the back of Freed’s shirt. “I was always too much of a coward to say it before, but dammit, Freed, I’m in love with you. You’re my best friend and I’ve just been too scared to ruin that with you. But how could I not be in love with you, you’ve always been the one for me and now,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “now you’re leaving me and I can’t just let that happen.”

Freed wants to speak. He wants to shout back with every last bit of his soul “I love you too, you idiot!” But the words don’t come. In fact, nothing comes. Not even air.

He begins to choke on nothing, coughing desperately but unable to regain his breath once it’s left him.

Shit. Is this really it? Is this how I die?

He heaves. Pain ricochets through him in ripples, and he doubles over against Laxus’ body. He can feel the flowers in his throat, but even worse, he feels something much larger threatening to come up too, and he can't stop it. All he can do is shake and cough.

Laxus is panicking, though Freed can hardly blame him.

“Freed? Freed!” He’s shouting, practically screaming, terrified. Freed wishes he could scream too. His mouth tastes like blood. The large something is coming up, and it tears at his insides angrily, like it doesn’t want to leave just yet.

Desperately, Freed claws at the inside of his mouth, pulling at it. Slowly, a full plant emerges. A red rose, its thorns still on the stem, its roots still dangling below. Freed takes a breath.

It hurts like hell, but it’s a clear, full breath. It feels like the first time his lungs have filled in years.

There’s a long, silent pause in which neither Freed nor Laxus moves. Finally Laxus very cautiously speaks.

“Hey. Please tell me you’re alive right now.”

Freed laughs. He actually laughs, and it feels wonderful.

“Yes. I’m alive, and I’m actually fairly certain I’m cured.”

Laxus immediately pushes Freed away from him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

“What? Seriously? Dude, you better not be messing with me right now.”

Freed holds up the rose plant triumphantly. “I think this was the last thing in me. Actually, Laxus, you saved me.”

Laxus frowns. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, man. And uh, are we going to address my whole ‘I love you’ speech or can I just pretend it never happened?”

Freed grins. He explains, then, what Levy had learned in her research. How Hanahaki is a spell that preys on unrequited love, and how the “impossible” cure that Freed had lost hope for was for that love to be returned.

“In short, Laxus, I love you too. I love you so ridiculously much that it literally almost killed me.” He laughs. “But you saved me. Of course, I should have known you would.”

“S-saved you?” Laxus balks. “I nearly killed you! I was so much of a coward that you almost died, just because I didn’t have the guts to tell you how I felt!” He looks down, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I almost killed the love of my life because I’m so repressed.”

Freed finds it utterly hilarious and can’t stop laughing while Laxus begs him to stop and consider the repercussions of this.

“Fine, fine.” Freed says through the fading snorts of laughter. “Just make it up to me by taking me on a date, alright?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Laxus smiles. “Just promise me you’ll keep me in the loop next time you fall under the effects of some weird-ass spell.”

“Naturally.” Freed promises. “Now, no offense, Laxus, but I have been waiting for as long as we’ve known each other for you to kiss me, and I would argue that now is a perfect time.”

Laxus doesn’t give a response. Instead, he just leans in close and presses his lips to Freed’s. For the millionth time in two weeks, Freed finds himself breathless, but for once, he couldn’t be happier about why. He doesn’t give Laxus the chance to even attempt to be sweet about it, and wraps his arms around the other man’s neck tightly, pulling him in so close Laxus can probably taste the flowers that had been in Freed’s throat.

When they finally pull apart, Freed stays pressed against Laxus’ body, smiling broader than he’s smiled in his whole life.

“Just make me one promise, Laxus.”

“Of course, anything.” Laxus responds. “What is it?”

Freed leans back and looks at him straight on.

“Never, ever, under any circumstances, buy me flowers.”