Good and Clean

His apartment was always smokey. Always. The second she walked through the door, no matter what hour or with who, there was some lingering smoke around. Whether it be from one of his cigarettes, the visiting Laxus' cigar, or some other illicit reason, it was just always present and usually accompanied by glowing green eyes floating around in the haze, from his babies as they circled their father lazily. At the sound of her entering or knocking though, she always got the same response.

"Lissy," he'd exclaimed before getting (or stumbling depending on the day) to his feet before rushing around the tiny place, as if in a lame attempt at picking up. Because she wasn't like him. Or Freed. Or Ever. Or even Laxus.

She was special.

That was what she overheard him explain to Laxus on day at the hall. She was over at the bar, with Mirajane, and hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but sometimes it couldn't be helped.

"She's different," the seith insisted to his idol as they sat at a table together, sipping on beers. "From all of us. She, like, hangs out with Natsu and Lucy and them. Right? She's in a different world than us. They're all...all..."

"Annoying as hell?" Laxus paused his beer sipping just to make his feelings on the subject known. "The constant reason that things befall the hall? Why I contemplate everyday whether or not Fairy Tail's still great or if it's just a place for posers to gather and attempt to make one another feel better about their pathetic-"

"Clean," Bickslow explained, not even listening to the man ramble. "They're all real clean, yeah? They don't… They're just not like us."

Laxus shrugged at that. Couldn't argue with the truth.

"You don't feel that way?" the other man asked then. "About Mirajane, I mean?"

Dropping the mug back down on the table once he'd gulped all its contents down, the slayer said simply. "My woman can hang. And if yours can't, maybe it's time you find a new one."

"That's not it." He sat back then, as if thinking. "I just… I think I like it."

That got a snort out of the other man and a grumble of something, but Lisanna didn't catch it, as Mira was speaking to her then and she had to get back to work. It stuck with her though, for some reason, as their relationship only progressed from there. The fact that Bickslow held her on a different level, on a whole other standard than himself was a little shocking to her. She never really thought of herself as...good. Clean. She was the sister of the she-devil.

Could someone of that lineage be deemed clean? Apparently.

Not that she didn't try to be bad. Dirty, as it were. She did whatever he was doing. If he was drinking, fine, she'd drink. If he was smoking, okay, cool. Whatever. If he and the others were trading dark past stories, whatever. So they used to bash up guilds that talked about Fairy Tail. Well, once, back in Edolas, when the Fairy Tail there was on hard time, she helped that Lucy steal something.

So really, wasn't she just as bad as them?

Right?

Wrong. To them. That story just made them laugh. It should have, considering she was lying anyhow, but Bickslow seemed to appreciate the effort. Even when she choked down beer, when she coughed up whatever it was in that blunt he passed her, and definitely when she puked her guts out every time after, at least she was trying.

"It's like," he told her once when they were sitting around his apartment. Laxus was there, somewhere, as he and Mirajane had had a fight and he'd been banished from their apartment, leaving Bickslow and Lisanna without the option of doing anything that might remotely make the slayer sick (he claimed even a glimpse of them kissing would make him vomit). "You're completely different. You know?"

"No." She was on the floor with him and all the lights were out save some candles that he'd lit around the room. Not in a romantic way, but more in a 'he hadn't replaced any of the burned out bulbs in the living room for months and they liked the ambiance anyhow' kinda way. The bathroom and bedroom had lights. And the kitchen. What? Did someone really need that many light bulbs in an apartment? "Different how?"

"Not in a bad way." He was watching Peppe and Poppo, two of his babies, with mild interest as they chased after one another. "In a good one."

"How is it good be different? And different when?"

"When you're with me," he explained slowly, glancing over at her. His visor was off and he didn't have a hood on, but his Mohawk hadn't been done up that day as he'd only woken up an hour ago, when she knocked on the door to find he and Laxus both passed out from a night of drinking and no doubt endless complaining about Mirajane and her antiquated rules. Such as no muddy boots in the house. Bah! Drunk Laxus bahed! At that. And also get kicked out. Heh. "You're relaxed. And cool."

"But?" she prompted.

"But," he continued, "when you're with your sister or brother or even your friends, like Happy and Natsu and them, you get all innocent and shit. Like we weren't drunk the night before, passed out over at Freed's and having him yell about how he'll stop inviting us over if we're only going to do that. Or like you don't bitch to me constantly about your sister and how she treats you like a child or the way that Natsu's just always counting you out of shit and it ain't fair. You can go from doing that the day before and just right back to hanging with either of them the next day like you were super pissed at the only hours ago. You don't even bring it up to them. Like, ever. At all. And-"

"And what?" She didn't take what he was saying well. At all. "I'm supposed to what? Yell at the person who raised me for treating me as if she did? Or be mad at Natsu for moving on after I was gone for two years and-"

"I'm not saying that," he told her, turning his attention back to the babies and the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. After taking a puff, he said simply, "I'm not getting onto you. I think it's cool." Then, pausing, he added as more thoughtfully, even holding his head a bit higher, "I think it's mature."

Lisanna had been ready to yell at him or detail to him all the ways he was wrong, in full, but stopped at that word at the end. Mature. It wasn't one that she got thrown her way often.

"R-Really?"

"Well, sure." He even grinned at her then, that huge one where he showed all his teeth. "That's how adults handle stuff, yeah? Like your sister for example. She works for Master, huh? Not just in the way we all do, but she has a legitimate job. She's a barmaid. If he did something that she didn't like, she wouldn't berate it for him. She'd come home and tell Laxus about it. Because that's how you handle things. You just don't get to blow up at people when they make you mad. You wait until you're with someone you trust and you tell them about it. Because that's maturity. Not always needing to throw a fit. Holding it in." Another puff. And then, "I respect that. I respect you."

And Lisanna was blushing too hard then to listen as Laxus came out of the bedroom, hungover and grumbling about the scent of the candles and how he was going home, to the demon, to force her to apologize (to beg for forgiveness and swear to never get mud on her floors again). Didn't even mention to him that he was shirtless and looked a mess. Just let him go. Bickslow did too, but that was more because he was fiddling with his pack of smokes and only grumbled out a farewell with a cigarette hanging in between his teeth.

Respect. Her. He respected her. She wasn't sure if anyone had ever felt that ways about her. Most everyone else wrote her off as Mirajane's kid sister. And it would be easy for Bickslow to do that too, but he didn't. He thought she was mature. Huh.

If being different though, was a sign of maturity, then she saw no traces of it with him. He was always the same. Always. Dark, but not too dark. Silly, but not too silly. In motion. Constantly. He couldn't just sit still. Even when they would sit around his apartment, he was always fidgeting with something. Or if they were walking outside, headed somewhere, he always had to jog. Or run. Or jump around. Something. The man was full of only kinetic energy. No potential.

That was what stuck out to her, really, as she strode into his apartment that day (he had a habit of keeping the door unlocked). He was just sitting there, in the darkness of the apartment, no candles lit and the babies dormant. Not to mention the air smelt of long gone smoke and something sweet, but nothing recent.

"Bicks?" she called out softly as she only came close to where he was seated in his boxers, back against the couch as he sat on the floor, staring straight ahead. He hardly glanced up at her. "Are you okay?"

She knew that he wasn't, of course, because Ever had spent the night previous filling her in on the significance that the date in question held for him, when the other woman was at the guild pretending not to stare over at Elfman. It was a somber tale, one that she could have pieced together herself, honestly, given the back-story on all of the others in the guild and how they wound up members of it, but to hear the actual thing was kinda odd. Especially the way that Freed, who was up at the bar with Evergreen, glared at her the entire time, keeping eerily silent on the whole thing. Not that Ever noticed his disapproving stare. Nor cared probably, as not soon after, she'd finally gotten the attention from Elfman that she would only claim she didn't want and went to sit with him.

After she was gone, Freed only told her one thing.

"Just leave him alone tomorrow," he said simply as he kindly paid out his and Ever's tabs both before getting to his feet. Mirajane wasn't working that day, which meant Laxus was off with her, doing something or other, and left Freed with little reason to hang around for more than an hour or so. "Bickslow. And in a day or two, things will be back to normal."

But that was the thing. As much as she tried to stray from it, Lisanna definitely had shared some of the same tendencies as her older sister. Namely, she was a snoop. She never knew when to leave well enough alone. Sure, it would have been simple to just pretend like she didn't know that anything was wrong. After all, her and Bickslow could go weeks without seeing one another, what with jobs and her taking shifts up at the bar and such.

She just couldn't let that happen though. She had to go over there, Lisanna did. Had to pry. Had to speak with him. There was just no other way.

Only when she arrived to find him like that, just sitting there in the darkness, she wasn't really certain of what to do. Or say. Just seeing him with his babies dormant, something that he only did when they were going to bed, was throwing her off. Slowly, she moved to take a seat next to him.

"Did we," he began after a moment or two, "have something to do today?"

"What? No. I just-"

"'cause I can go get dressed." He didn't move in the slightest to do so though and still didn't look at her. "I just forgot is all."

'No, really. I just came over to...to see you."

"Huh." Reaching up, he rubbed at his downed Mohawk. "See me."

"Uh-huh. And, you know, hang out or whatever."

"Hn." He glanced at her finally before gesturing around. "This is my plans for the day. You can stay if you want, but don't expect much."

One of the dolls bodies, Pappa, was right near them and, slowly, Lisanna reached out to pick it up. Stroking at where his eyes were painted on, she said, "Something wrong with the babies?"

"Eh?"

"It's just pretty late in the day for them to still be asleep."

That's what they called it. Instead of whatever it was that his dolls were really doing when he didn't have them encased in their bodies, they said that they were asleep. Because that's what babies did when they weren't awake. They slept.

Just like that though, at her words, Bickslow did something without moving in the slightest, because Pappa seemed to become alert again, eyes flashing green for a moment before he wiggled in her hand. When Lisanna let him go, he only took to floating in front of her face.

Bickslow didn't awaken the others. Pappa was her favorite, anyhow. She never said it, not aloud, but he knew.

Slowly, as if picking up on the morose mood in the room, Pappa just moved to sit atop Lisanna's head, (his favorite spot), and morn with them. Slouching forwards, Lisanna settled in next to her boyfriend, silently wondering just what she should say.

"I was plannin' on bein' alone today."

Lisanna glanced up at Bickslow then, frowning slightly. "O-Oh. I can go, I just-"

"No." He even shook his head slightly. "Don't know what fun you can have over here today, but you can stay."

She'd seen Bickslow serious before, during battle and such, but she'd never seen him so dour and unattached. For someone that had it so together and completely comfortable with themselves and their (very) odd inclinations, one would think that Bickslow would have long gotten over the traumas of his past. Or at least learned to deal with them internally.

Apparently not.

Pappa whined then, softly, sadly, from her head and Lisanna pondered if the babies knew or not. She asked herself that question a lot. Just how much freewill his souls had and how much they used.

"Did you… Have you eaten? Today?" When he shook his head, she said, "Did you want me to make you-"

"Not hungry."

"Are you out of cigarettes?" That was the only reason she could think that he didn't have one out. He usually did when he was stressed over something. "I can go get you-"

"No."

"Then here." She got up then, Pappa still balanced on her head, and walked off to his bedroom. She found the pack of them sitting on his dresser and grabbed a lighter. "I got them for-"

"Lisanna-"

"No, here." She came back over and tried to shove one in his mouth, planning on lighting it for him as well. Hell, if she could smoke it for him as well, she'd do that too. "Just let me-"

"No, Lisanna, knock it off!" He shoved her hands away and then she was just standing there, lording over him with one of his babies perched on her head, staring in the dark room at him in shock. Glaring up at her, he said, "I'm not a fucking idiot."

"W-What? I don't-"

"You know."

"Know wh-"

"Lisanna."

And then they were both still, staring at one another in silence. Slowly, she moved to drop the cigarette and lighter before falling back into her spot next to him.

"Who told you? Ever?"

"N-"

"Damn Ever."

"I was going to say no."

"I know it was Ever." Still refusing to look at her, he said, "I didn't want you to know. It ruins everything."

"How?"

"It just doesn't."

"Bickslow, I don't think...less of you. That you like to spend today like this. I get it. My parents are dead too."

"I think," he told her hotly then, tone heavy, "that watching your parents be killed by robbers and not being able to protect them is a little different than just having them catch a little cold and pass, don't you?"

It was so cold too, the way he told her that. She was too shocked to say anything for a moment, only staring at him.

Then her face grew as dark as his.

"Screw you then, Bickslow. Wallow alone." Shoving up, she moved to get to her feet and storm off, but Bickslow didn't let her get far. She wasn't out of his grasps yet when he literally moved to tackle her. Straight to the ground. It wasn't very comfortable either.

"Ow! What are you-"

"Don't leave me." He'd launched himself at her in an awkward way, leaving her face down on the floor and him halfway atop her, head pressed into the small of her back. "I'm sorry. Just don't leave me."

She could only shift slightly though it brought no comfort before saying, "I think you broke my nose."

"Is it bleedin'?"

"No."

"Then you're alright."

They both laid there then, her sulking in the fact that she couldn't be too pissed at him, given the anniversary he was dealing with, and him just taking comfort in the feeling of the soft fabric of her shirt against his face. It made him tired, honestly.

"I'm sorry I said that. You know I didn't mean it."

"You still shouldn't have-"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Again, silence. Pappa, who'd fallen off Lisanna's head at some point, didn't move from where he fell and she was a tad worried about him, but given how sturdy the babies were (they did battle for Bickslow, after all), she decided to put it out of her mind.

"I shouldn't have come over here."

"Why? I wanted you to."

"You did?"

He kissed her back then. "I just didn't know's all."

Gingerly, Lisanna pushed up and Bickslow shifted back away from her. He felt a rush of embarrassment, something he wasn't used to, for a number of things. Mainly the fact that he'd just horribly insulted her parents deaths, but also because he'd kinda just freaking tackled her. On any other day, okay, fine, he was weird, she'd get over it, but given the circumstances and why he did it, he wasn't so sure.

"Are you really okay?" he asked as, once she was sitting up and facing him, she reached up to touch her nose.

"Are you?" was all she responded back to which, slowly, he nodded.

"I never wasn't."

Moving to grab Pappa and put him in her lap that time, Lisanna said simply, "I shouldn't have pried."

"I have a feeling you didn't."

With a shrug, she said, "Ever had a bit to drink."

"I figured."

"If it makes you feel better, she went home with Elf last night, so there's that."

"Meh."

"Meh?"

"Even the thought of teasing her on that later's kinda a moot point right now."

They both moved once more to sit with their backs against the couch, no longer facing one another. For a moment or so, they got some more peace before Lisanna broke it again.

"Is this what you usually do?" she asked. "On…today?"

"When I was younger," he told her softly, "I would go back home."

"Home?"

Nodding, he said, "We had a house, yeah? I'd go back there. No one ever bought it. It's all rundown and stuff now. I haven't been back in years. It's probably gone. Now I mostly just sit around and think, I guess. I don't do that a lot, but-"

"Would you ever go back?"

"Eh?"

"Back there," she said, shifting so that she could stare up at him. "Would you go back?"

"Why would I?" he asked. "It's not like… I mean, when I was younger, it was so important to me. As if they were there. But I know that they aren't now, of course. So why does it matter?"

"I don't know. I just asking."

"I couldn't go now. I couldn't… What if someone's livin' there? Huh? Or if it's gone? Or if I couldn't even remember the way?"

Staring at him with her deep blue eyes, Lisanna said, "You can always find your way back home."

"Do you ever..."

"They exiled us, Bicks. Or at least they did Mirajane. So no, I don't. But I have my siblings," she told him. "You just have you."

He stuck out his tongue then, but it wasn't in jest. He was showing off his marking.

"I have Fairy Tail."

"Always."

That time, the silence only lasted mere seconds before he asked her something.

"If I did ever go back," he began slowly. "W-Would you..."

Not even taking a moment to think about it, Lisanna told him, "In a heartbeat."

For some reason he let out a long breath then, as if he'd been holding it in. Then, reaching out, he picked up the discarded cigarette and lighter.

"I should have died too."

"W-What?"

"With 'em," he told her as he lit the cigarette before shoving it in his mouth. "That's why I don't like going back there. I should have died too. But the guys couldn't do it. They couldn't kill a kid. And the older I got, the more it set in. That I wouldn't be that old, you know? If..."

"But they didn't," she told him. "They didn't kill you. Just like if it hadn't been for that anima-"

"Don't talk like that. You would have been fine. You-"

"But I wouldn't have," she insisted. "I would have died because of something stupid I did. But you know what? It was there and I didn't die. Just like they couldn't go through with it, so you did survive. Because for some reason, we had more to do in this life. Like be here right now."

Reaching over, he tugged gently at some of her white hair. With a slight sigh, he said, "I just wanna hang around here today, kid. But… You could stay for awhile, huh?"

"Of course, Bicks." She moved to lean against him then, Pappa still in her lap. "Whatever you want."

He was different then, Bickslow was, that day. The entire day. They didn't really joke at all once. He didn't eat. And only smoked one cigarette. Mostly he just laid around and stared blankly at things as she kept his dolls, who he awakened, entertained. It was never hard. Three knock-knock jokes and they were set for the entire day.

"I feel weird," Bickslow said at one point as they shifted to laying around in his bed. "Staying in my boxers all day."

"You wanna get dressed?"

He nodded then, but didn't get out of bed. Only reached over to grab his visor and put it on. There. All better.

Frowning, Lisanna only snuggled closer into his side. Whatever made him feel better, she supposed.

Or clothed. Whatever made him feel clothed.

Sigh.

"Thanks, kid," he told her about then. The babies were littered around the bed and, though they weren't dormant, were just lying there as they all made little nonsensical noises. It used to annoy her, when they first got together, but slowly it had become a comfort.

"For what?"

"For coming to check on me." With his visor on, he felt a lot better, and even stroked her cheek gently as he spoke. "I was a dick for not mentioning it to you."

"No. It's fine."

"You're such a good person," he told her. Even though she couldn't see them, she was pretty certain that his eyes were slipping closed then and he was drifting off. "I ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, Bicks." She kissed his side before shutting her own eyes. "A few times."

"It's true. I like it. A lot. You're a good person."

Nuzzling against his side, she breathed in his scent slowly.

"So are you, Bickslow," she reminded. "And never forget it."

I felt like I hadn't done a Bickslow and Lisanna thing in awhile, so I figured I do one. Not much of one, but just another Bickslow back-story thingy to add to the pile. New chapter of Closure up next, I figure.