Laxus thought he was prepared for anything Randen could throw at him. He wasn't prepared for the portal that opened beneath his feet. It sucked him in without mercy and took him for another wild ride, one that lasted seconds that felt like hours, through a void of black. Churning, churning, it was impossible to know his direction anymore. He twisted, arms thrown wide, thinking, how do I get out, just when an exit made itself known, appearing at his back. He dropped like a stone through water, bursting out of the strange in between Randen's magic had sent him to and emerging from the ceiling. Like the cave he'd left Mira inside, this one was shorter than the first, full of stalactites and stalagmites that reached for each other and barely touched, meaning he didn't have far to go. Yet, it didn't matter how short his fall was, when he hit the bottom, the air still left his lungs, he still ached.

Overhead, the lightning Laxus had been using to see by flickered and went out. With absolutely no light coming in from anywhere, Laxus was acutely aware of Lisanna's fast breathing, his own stranded gold-fish-gulps, Randen's council-issued boots sliding over the rocky, limestone ground.

Coming for you.

His lungs finally took in air. Win. Next, he needed to see.

Laxus redoubled his efforts and set the overhead lightning to sparking again. The wavering white-gold light revealed Randen stepping around a huge stalagmite, too close. The white of his eyes looked almost yellow, his skin gleamed darkly; he was sweaty. Whether it was because he didn't like the idea of what he was about to do or because it was warm in the cave in his long, white council coat when compared to the outside world, Laxus didn't know.

Randen said, "This isn't a fight you'll win, Laxus. Heed my words and leave, wait for the council to arrive. Tani will let you walk free."

"And then what?" Laxus asked, getting up slowly and putting himself between Lisanna and Randen again. "I'm free for an hour? Two? Then I get put away and cut up when you think no one will miss me. Sounds like a pretty shitty option to me. I'll fight, thanks." Lightning pricked his fingers, his fist, and then his arm. With a thought, it danced to the floor and travelled too quickly for the eye to follow, using the puddles as a conductor.

Randen didn't do much to dodge the attack. In fact, he stood and waited patiently for the lightning to hit him. When it did, it trekked up his body and through his muscles, making him twitch and yell, just like Laxus expected. And then it was gone, and not just naturally. The ring on his finger, that garishly ugly red stone, siphoned off the charge and glowed.

Randen gathered himself up again, wiped a line of drool from his mouth, and reached at his hip. He tugged out a short, cylindrical club that, when he snapped his wrist, elongated into a staff, one Laxus recognized not only by sight, but also by feel. As soon as it was unleashed, his skin was buffeted by the same strange power that had exploded the people in Lily Fields.

Oh. It was sickening to be this close to it. The staff's body glowed like the ring and Laxus could only assume that the two were connected, one to absorb power, the other to unleash it in deadly bursts.

Don't freak out. That was easier said than done, he kept thinking about the woman that ruptured all over him, spilling black ichor. The thought of they want you alive—for a short amount of time, anyway—and pride kept him from grabbing Lisanna and turning tail, something he'd never done before.

"You talk a big game, Randen, but I know you're not going to use that on me, so just put the toy away." He sounded confident at least.

Randen gritted straight white teeth. "It's not for you, Laxus."

Lisanna started to sob.

Oh, he thought again.

The girl's wail got louder.

"Give this up and I'll make it quick," Randen said. "Save her some pain."

Laxus was afraid to look. "Get out of here, Lisanna!"

"So she can do what?" Randen asked. "Go out there and be killed by a demon? She'll fare better in here. I'll be kinder." There was a vein on his temple that stood out while he spoke. He was strained, making Laxus believe he truly didn't have a taste for this. But he was doing it anyway.

"The payoff for my lacrima must be pretty good, huh? I don't believe there's any 'secret operations' military bullshit. Pockets are being greased, promotions are being offered for promises that you've been handing out."

Randen didn't respond.

"That's it, isn't it? Fuck, you're pathetic. You want the cash out but you're sweating."

Lisanna still hadn't moved. She'd stopped screaming, though. 'Cause she's gone? He still wasn't brave enough to look. Can't be. She's there. "Go, Lisanna! Hurry it up."

Randen seemed to realize he'd gone lax. More power came from his staff. Lisanna cried again, louder and more pain-filled than before, proving she was alive. This time, Laxus couldn't help but look over his shoulder. In the light offered by his magic, he saw Lisanna's skin raised in angry red blisters on the verge of popping. Her neck and her arms bore the worst of it. Maybe. Who knew what her skin was doing beneath her sweater?

Do something.

Randen gritted his teeth, preparing for what came next; Laxus followed suit and lunged, fists raised. Randen stopped his coming assault by blocking with his staff. The magic that had been assaulting Lisanna faded. Laxus hoped that meant he was distracted and she was using the opportunity to run. There was no chance to check, he was busy dodging one of Randen's swipes. The staff hit one of the drooping stalactites and set it to resonating with the residual magic the weapon carried. How many spells had he vampired the power from and stuffed into his weapon? Enough that the magic bleeding from it made Laxus' teeth ache.

He skated below another controlled swing and delivered a kick from a crouching position that connected with Randen's lower abdomen. The man curled around the area and stumbled back. Laxus came upright and moved in again, fists raised and barren of any spell, wary of that ring. There wasn't any sense giving the man more firepower to take him out with. An uppercut was dodged, a right hook blocked.

"You have been training hard," Randen said when he could. "Ivan said you were rather exceptional when you tried."

He thought, doesn't matter what your old man thinks, when he tried to get hung up on the words. Reality kept him from relishing in his father's approval: he was, in fact, a lab rat and had been for years.

Angry all over again, Laxus came in with a low left hook, aiming for Randen's ribs. As soon as the man brought his staff down to block it, Laxus came around from the right and caught him in the cheek, once, twice. His knuckles ached, loudly voicing their protest. Randen's face split, dark blood running over his skin.

Laxus went in for a third strike, thinking he was doing pretty good, when the floor went out from beneath him again. He didn't have time to swear, spinning in that darkness. He was spat out again at Randen's feet and felt just as sick and disoriented as he did the first time he tumbled through one of those portals. With a watering mouth, he lamented that the effect was cumulative.

"You're right, Laxus. I don't want to kill you, but no one will blame me for making you more compliant." Randen punctuated his words with a steel-toed boot in Laxus' ribs. And another. The breath was knocked from Laxus' lungs. He let his lightning coat his skin. The next time contact was made, Randen was hit. The result was the same as before, the magic raced through his body, doing minimal damage before it was gathered up into his ring and then focused into his staff. Laxus expected to be hit with the weapon, surely it would be more effective, but Randen seemed content to keep on kicking. He curled in on himself with the third blow, feeling a familiar ache in the bones that already knew what it was to break. It wasn't long after that they popped.

Fuck. Enraged, reliving the last time he'd been on the ground and someone was laying into him like this, he grabbed Randen's leg and let his magic come, wave after wave. Clothes burned, so did hair, skin. Randen's teeth ground together, he yelled. He never fucking fell, though. The ring on his finger flared, his staff spurt magical energy and all he did was collect. Laxus felt his chest ache and knew his lacrima was protesting, on the verge of fracture. While the feeling was debilitating and only made him want to vomit more, it also cleared his mind.

Magic coursed through his body, amplified by his lacrima. More and more and more. He pushed on even when black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He kept on even when he heard his lacrima splinter. A little bit more and it would break completely.

You'll die.

But he wouldn't be a lab rat.

There was so much magical energy being pushed into Randen's body and then being collected by his ring, the air hummed with it.

A little more.

Intuiting what he was trying to do, Randen swore and tried to back up. Laxus wouldn't let go, pushing on past the point where his body burned and his vision doubled, tripled. Lightning struck rock, attracted to trace metals, it rolled across the floor, moving through puddles, it jumped erratically and lit the place up like fireworks ignited the sky every year at the Fantasia Parade.

More.

"You'll break the lacrima," Randen hollered. "Stop!"

He couldn't.

Keep going.

A portal started at his feet, trying to drag him down and break his hold. Laxus pushed that little bit more, knowing if Randen succeeded, they'd be back to square one.

More.

Lightning scorched the rock all around them. Randen screamed.

And then

As Laxus hoped

Randen's ring cracked.

Then broke.

All of the magic it'd been holding gushed out like water spewing from a dam, filling the cavern, a storm.

It was too much.

Randen fell.

Laxus could barely draw breath but he wouldn't be satisfied until Randen was no longer a threat. He dragged himself to the man's downed body in amongst all of the pops and bangs and crashes of spell after spell being released all around him, illuminating the place in various colours, in various ways, and grabbed Randen's throat and squeezed, and as he squeezed, his lightning did him one last service.

By the time he was done, the smell of charred meat made him want to gag.

Laxus passed out instead.

Lisanna's entry into the cave cost Mira. She was distracted by her little sister, and anxious—not only because it seemed Elfman wasn't with her, but Lisanna wasn't safe there, not by a long shot.

Tani saw the girl the same time Mira did and knew just what to do. He sprang for her. Mira let instinct guide her—there wasn't much else, fear had taken her over and skill had gone out the window. Wings carried her to her target just a split second faster than Tani, meaning she was there to intersect. Tani hit her like a ton of bricks instead of Lisanna, and yes, his body was just as molten hot as Mira had feared. Demon scales protected her some. Not enough. Hell, it wasn't nearly enough. Bits of super-heated stone clung to her arms, her belly, leaving her with burns that turned her skin dead white. She would scar if she survived.

That didn't matter to Mira. What mattered was that she and Tani spilled end over end away from a screaming Lisanna. What mattered was that Tani ended up on the ground beneath her. What mattered was that now she had the upper hand, no matter how brief that lasted, she was going to take it. She clutched both hands together above her head and brought them down in a sweeping arc, a ball of black magic spewing from her entangled fingers. She hit Tani squarely in the chest and felt him shudder.

Yes, she thought, seeing the stone his body was made from crack. Her elation evaporated in a flood of flame.

Of course demons lied. Of course Tani wouldn't dampen his power and give her the advantage forever. She felt like a fool. A burning one. Tani's flames were even hotter than she remembered. Stupid. He wants to kill you, after all.

Mira released him and rolled back, getting to her feet just as soon as she was able. She was mostly blisters and singed hair, singed clothing. Her lungs protested that bout of flame. She dared to chance a look to Lisanna as Tani got to his feet, hurt as well.

Lisanna watched them with wide eyes, her hand clenched into a fist and brought to her mouth where she used it to stifle whatever vocalization she'd been tempted to make. Mira opened her mouth to tell her to run; fire came for the girl, too quickly for Mira to stop. Lisanna dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding getting burned to death. Her sweater wasn't as lucky, the sleeve catching flame badly enough that Lisanna shook her arm wildly to put it out, yelling.

Tani laughed.

Mira attacked with a noxious ball of black magic. He wasn't laughing so much when his side was nicked away at, more like stone than skin. He stumbled and fell. Slowly, between calling her a flurry of terrible things, he got back to his feet.

"Run, Lisanna," Mira yelled above Tani's viciousness while she had a second to do so. "Get out of here. Tell Master Makarov—"

"Come with me!" Lisanna commanded. "Hurry, Mira!"

She wished she could run. But running now meant that Tani won. It meant that she'd be running for the rest of her life. It also meant leaving Laxus behind, and she couldn't.

Tani was on his feet, engulfed in flames so hot, the air was humid, the walls sweated. And then they got dry. Mira's skin ached, taut. The demon came for her, fire now and nothing like a man. Mira met flames with a blast of power so strong that in its wake, she felt empty. The spell hit. Tani extinguished, throwing the cave into darkness again. And silence. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. Except Lisanna.

"Mira? Mira, are you there?"

Mira turned, seeking the girl in the gloom. "I'm here, Lisanna."

"Is he dead?"

Dead? "I… I don't know."

Hot pressed into her back, and a mouth into her ear. "Of course not." His voice was the sound of the earth grinding together. It was from her nightmares. She was paralyzed as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand cinching on her throat, the other around her ribs. And then she was burning, burning so bright. So hot. Her scales cracked, her Satan Soul was getting away from her.

And then you'll just be a girl and you'll burn to ash. And Lisanna will, too. And you won't have to fight anymore. You'll be free.

You'll be giving up.

You can't. So fight.

That option was quickly being denied to her. All Mira could feel was pain, all she could see was red. Just like the night Mom and Dad died. Except now you die, too. Her magic was trying to get away from her. It was trying to disappear and it was trying to take control.

You're losing it.

She didn't want to be a slave to her magic, out of control and mindless.

What if it's the only way?

Her skin roiled.

And then Mira heard Lisanna's voice lifted into something that could only be dubbed a battle cry. Tani jolted behind Mira. His flames sputtered, dulling back to a more manageable size. Mira collapsed and scrabbled out from between his arms, choking and gasping for air. She didn't let herself stay that way, she got up to her knees and found Lisanna. She stood over Tani with a rock held between two hands that shook. A rock that was now dotted with red blood. Demon blood. The girl looked like she was going to faint. She was all soot and sweat stained, she was red cheeked. She was fury. And she was going for Tani again, rock raised with the intention to kill.

Mira stumbled to her feet, pulling her Satan Soul around her body again, determined to do this one thing so Lisanna didn't have to carry this burden on her as well. A demon was a demon. But a life was still a life. She was already too marred by Tani after her involvement in Silas' murder. No more.

Mira pushed Lisanna aside with great force just as Tani was starting to get his bearings again. She had seconds to get this right. Lisanna fell back, dropping the rock, and Mira took her place, coming to her knees at the demon's side. Ignoring the flames flickering on his peculiar skin, getting hotter, getting brighter, Mira grabbed him by the temples and looked into his pit-like eyes. All she saw there was hate. She was burning again, worse than before. She couldn't feel her fingers. Or her wrists as Tani grabbed them, forcing her to stay exactly where she was.

She didn't scream or fight to get away.

Before Mira let her Satan Soul loose from the tight grasp she always had to have on it, she told Tani, "Now we're both free."

Her magic took over.

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"That's what I said."

"Why are you our medical advisor if you can't tell me if he's dead or not? Seems like a basic skill."

"Makarov. You have three seconds to get away and find something more useful to do with yourself. Check on the Strauss girl or something."

Something incomprehensible was murmured. Boots splashed through water beside Laxus' head. A relieved breath was let go, and then unforgiving fingers poked into Laxus' side.

Given how foggy he felt, Laxus thought he'd have trouble opening his eyes, but as soon as the poking started, his lids came up and a cuss came out of his mouth with a vengeance.

"Mind your tongue."

He blinked and blinked, trying to bring Porlyusica into view. He knew it was her, there was only one person in the world that perpetually sounded as gravelly and cranky as she; he still wanted affirmation. Finally, with great effort, he was able to focus on something: a small bead of light. A lamp, he thought. Once he identified that, everything else became easier, he started seeing shapes. Stalactites, stalagmites. Randen's scorched corpse. There was no smoke coming from him; they'd been there for some time. Not only that, but it was feet away now instead of directly beside him. He'd been moved. Porlyusica bent into the light, illuminating a lock of shockingly pink hair, her lined and freckled face. She didn't look at him, focusing on his ribs.

Laxus croaked, "Where's Mira?"

"She's being looked after."

"She's alright?"

"Burned," was her vague response.

Burned. That could mean so many things. "Bad?"

Instead of answering again, she pressed down on one particularly sore segment of rib. Laxus yelled, seeing stars.

"You broke them again," she decreed.

"Well, no shit, you don't say?" His breathy snarl earned him another one of Porlyusica's severe looks.

She seemed to take pleasure from saying, "They're just as bad as before. No activity for weeks. But what I'm interested in is this lacrima…" She tapped his chest mercilessly. "Makarov said you were letting your father dabble in experimental magic on you, but I didn't believe it until I saw it for myself."

Laxus ground his teeth together. "That hurts." Worse than his ribs, if that was fucking possible.

"I hope so; it'll remind you of how stupid you are in case you forget."

Hell. "It's not always going to feel like that, is it?" There was an annoying whine in his voice he didn't much care for. It couldn't be helped.

"I can't say. I need to do some more research, and some tests."

He was a lab rat all over again. He was out of anger. All he wanted to do was just lie there until he rotted. He had no energy for anything. Except, maybe, to ask, "Lisanna?"

"She's the one that told us where to find you. Elfman stumbled back into the guild looking like a drowned and frozen rat, raving about a portal, but we had no leads. Until Lisanna burst in, crying about demons and Mira."

Good. That was good. Laxus sighed and closed his eyes.

"May I ask who the corpse is?"

He laughed and pressed his hands into his lids. The movement made everything scream. He did it anyway. Everything was a fucking mess. And getting messier. Voices came through the rock to his ears, ones he didn't recognize.

"Where is he?"

"I think you'll have to be more specific than that." That was Gramps.

"Split up, search the area. Think of him as armed and dangerous."

Hell, Laxus thought and started to roll over.

"Where do you think you're going?" Porlyusica asked. "Stay where you are, Laxus. You're not well."

No. Fuck no, he wasn't. As soon as he moved he wanted to throw up. He wanted to go to jail even less. Up he got, grunting and huffing like a hippo.

"Laxus Dreyar, sit down," Porlyusica hissed. "I need to bind your ribs; I need to—"

The voices got closer and closer. Laxus looked indecisively around the cave, searching for a way out and seeing none but the way he entered. Which was the exact same way that was blocked by men in council uniforms. Guard. And not just any guard, the Magic Enforcement Unit's guard.

"Got him in here, Captain Lahar."

"What is this?" Porlyusica demanded while Laxus backed up, looking for a place to go. His back hit a stalactite, pulling him up short.

A man wearing a Captain's insignia shuffled through the passage. "Good work, men. Laxus Dreyar, you are under arrest for the murder of your guild mate Kurohebi, put your hands before you and prepare—" He trailed off, seeing the body just feet away. It wasn't until he focused on the staff and the ring that he made his judgment. "Is that Lieutenant Randen?"

Laxus didn't know what to say so he said nothing. It seemed safer.

Lahar's eyes flashed, his mouth got tight and serious. "You're under arrest for his murder as well. Put your wrists together." He came forward brandishing not a pair of cuffs but magic. Light purple runes appeared on Laxus' wrists before he could decide what to do, tying them together more effectively than any chain might. More runes appeared on his chest, completely immobilizing him. His voice got caught in his throat.

"What's going on in here?" Another figure piled into the cave.

Gramps. Laxus couldn't look at him.

Lahar addressed him. "Your grandson is being taken into custody for the murder of two men."

"Absurd," Makarov spat.

"Open your eyes." Lahar brimmed with rage, pointing at Randen. "The wounds on his body are identical to the ones discovered on Kurohebi's. They are caused by lightning magic, the same magic used by Laxus Dreyar. Or do you deny?"

Makarov wasn't easily satiated. "If he killed this man, it was in defense."

"You can't know that."

"You can't know that he didn't."

Lahar scowled.

"Why was he here without his unit?" Makarov pushed, trying to shed logic on the situation. "I told the council weeks ago that they had corruption in their midst but my complaints went ignored."

"I read your report," Lahar replied in a more reasonable way. "And I made my recommendations. It was taken out of my hands and passed to Lieutenant Randen."

Makarov looked like the cat that ate the canary. "This is the price of your negligence. My grandson was forced to protect himself when the council would do nothing."

Lahar shook his head. "While these events deserve scrutiny, I must take him into custody."

Makarov said, "You will do no such thing."

"I agree," Porlyusica chimed. "He needs medical attention."

"We have doctors in our facility," Lahar said. "He'll be taken care of." He stepped forward and grabbed Laxus by the elbow. "This way, Mr. Dreyar." As soon as the contact was made, Laxus could move again. The plug that had been in his throat disappeared.

Makarov voiced his opinion loudly and stood in the way. "Release him at once."

"If you do not move, Mr. Dreyar, you will be arrested as well," Lahar threatened.

He looked so set.

"It's alright, Gramps," Laxus spoke finally to save them all a little embarrassment. "You don't want to get involved."

"Like hell I don't," Makarov said. "If they're falsely accusing you, Laxus, you don't have to go in."

Laxus just looked at him, unable to say his grandfather was wrong and unable to say that he was right. His grandfather saw everything in that look; he was sure of it. Makarov's expression went dull, then edged with disappointment and a hint of betrayal.

"Silence is best," Lahar said. "Though I don't think it'll help, Laxus."

The Master's office was smokier than usual. Mira withstood it. She had worse discomforts than tight lungs. Her tight skin, for one. Everything was burned, raised in ugly blisters on some places, razed past that point in others. She was head to toe in bandages. Porlyusica thought she could keep the scarring to a minimum with a lot of effort.

Mira almost didn't care.

Nearly.

"You can't leave him in there, Master."

"He's killed two men, Mirajane," Makarov replied tiredly.

"So what?"

"So what?" He kept his back to her as he looked out to the melting world. It had been a week since Tani's attack and in that time, the river had opened up and the snow had begun to change to water. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask that."

"Laxus told me everything," she said, betraying him to help him. "Kurohebi was an accident. It wasn't his fault. His magic was changed, and Randen—you heard what Laxus said during his statement. Randen and Councillor Crawford were working with Tani. They wanted to cut him up like a piece of meat and take that lacrima for money. Can you blame him for killing that man?"

Makarov puffed on his pipe. "I am not the law."

"No, but you're Master of Fairy Tail. And you're his grandfather."

His shoulders got tight. She'd struck a nerve. "We have nothing to stand on, Mirajane. Randen is dead and Councillor Crawford has been cleared of any involvement. Ivan… he pled that he was lured and tricked by demons in the interest of saving Laxus' life. We have nothing."

"You don't seriously believe that? Someone's covering up," Mira insisted. "And Laxus is paying for it."

"All I have are suppositions and a weakening foundation," Makarov snapped.

"You haven't even tried," Mira pushed.

And that was that. "Leave."

She didn't ask if he meant his office or the guild, afraid of the answer.

Staring out of a dingy cell that smelled of sweat, toward a grey wall for seven days was boring. The kind of boring that made a man consider drastic measures for a change of scenery. Laxus was in the process of deciding how to instigate the pudgy guard assigned to him into an altercation that may earn him a little walk through the cavernous pit the council called a jail, when the sound of feet descending the dank, winding stairwell caught his attention. He stood straight mostly because it hurt like hell to sit, and watched Captain Lahar come into view.

The man looked just as tidy as ever, with his hair pulled back and his glasses on straight, the coat on his shoulders pressed and washed and completely crisp.

Too fucking prim. That's how he looked.

Laxus glared at him. And kept on that way until Lahar said, "Open the cell, Hasting. Mr. Dreyar is being released."

Released? Just when he was starting to go stir crazy. (It's been a goddamn week). Of hell. Staring at the same wall with the same scratch marks, being ignored by the same guards, eating the same slop they called food, getting prodded at by a doctor even crasser than Porlyusica. Released. "I am?" Maybe it was a prank.

Lahar pushed his glasses up on his straight nose. "Yes. The gate, Hastings."

The pudgy guard shook himself, apparently just as surprised, and came forward with his keys brandished.

"…Why?" Laxus asked over the sound of metal jangling over metal.

"Someone has confessed to the murder of Kurohebi, clearing your involvement, and it seems you were correct about Randen, he was in fact working with demons. We found several incriminating communications carried out between him and a creature that called itself Tani."

The cell opened wide, metal squealing. Laxus just stood there, processing. "Who confessed to Kurohebi's murder?"

"That's confidential."

Interesting.

Lahar said, "Usually when I release a captive, they're a little more willing to leave, Mr. Dreyar. Would you like to stay in prison?"

Laxus took a tentative step toward the open door, half expecting the bars to slam in his face again. They did not.

"Councillor Crawford has requested an audience," Lahar said as soon as his feet hit the concrete floor on the 'outside'.

"With me?"

"That's correct."

Well that was unexpected. One of the wheels wanted to talk to the rat running in his maze.

"He wants to see you in his office."

"Unconventional."

"Councillor Crawford Seam is an unconventional man," Lahar muttered.

"Did he say what he wanted?" Laxus asked.

"No. This way. We'll gather your things—your father was kind enough to drop off some clothes for you upon hearing of your release."

"My Dad did?" He didn't know how he felt about that.

"Yes." Lahar was all business. "You can visit the showers before you meet with the Councillor."

That was a polite way of saying he smelled and looked like a bag of shit. He felt like one, too, so it was no surprise.

Crawford Seam had an office that was large and bright, adorned with expensive furniture that held expensive baubles, all lit up by expensive lamps and expensive overhead lights. It was opulent, a fat lifestyle for a fat and opulent man.

He sat at his desk, a mandarin in hand, fingers wet with the juice. He smiled when he saw Laxus and dropped the three plump slices of fruit to his desk. He wiped his hand on the front of his white councillor's robe and stuck it out when he deemed it dry. "Mr. Dreyar." Even his voice was thick.

Laxus looked at his hand but didn't take it. "Councillor."

He dropped his hand but not his smile, showing off his gapped teeth and reducing his bulbous eyes from the size of globe grapes to blueberries. "Come in and close the door behind yourself. How are you keeping? I hear you took some damage from Mr. Randen. You look well, though."

Not all that great. The jail's 'doctors' left a lot to be desired, and his lacrima was still not quite right. Panging erratically when he least expected it. Laxus closed the door. "I'm fine."

"Of course. You look like the kind of lad that bounces back." He pressed his sausage-like fingers into the pale wood of his desk. "Won't you sit?"

Laxus looked at the overstuffed leather chair the councilmen offered and shook his head. Not only just no, he didn't think he could get up without betraying how sore he was. "No, thanks."

Crawford sat his bulk back in his chair, sending the mechanism to squealing. "You're a tough nut."

"Can we cut the bullshit? Why am I here?"

The man stuck out his lip, considering. "I wanted to make sure you didn't harbour any ill-will. That was awful business Randen dragged my name—and your father's—into Slanderous."

Laxus just stared at him.

"Desperate men tell desperate lies, though, all in the name of lessening their burdens."

"Are you saying you had nothing to do with this?" Laxus finally managed.

"Quite so. Insulting to suggest otherwise. Preposterous. And hurtful." He sweated and looked around nervously, telling Laxus everything he needed to know.

"You're a shitty liar."

"Cora Wren confessed to the murder of that young man," Crawford said, dodging the accusation. More quietly, he added, "Your father backed up your story in tandem with that confession, and it was deemed your killing Lieutenant Randen was purely in self-defence. Congratulations on being a free man, Laxus Dreyar."

Freedom left an acrid taste in his mouth.

Laxus' ass was numb. The bench he sat on was made from slats of cold metal that did very little for comfort. He'd watched two trains go by already. It had been two hours and forty-three minutes since he'd walked out of the Magic Council, and now…

Now he didn't know where to go.

Now he train spotted and imagined what he'd do in a place like Crocus, or Clover or the large city of Rainfall. Or maybe, he was tired of the city life and he'd go to the country. There was still work for mages out there. Or maybe he'd just tool around, seeing whatever, doing whatever, whenever.

There was no plan.

He'd go as far as his meager amount of cash would take him, and then he'd figure it out. He'd always figured something out before.

"That's two trains you've let go by."

Laxus didn't look at his grandfather as the old man lifted himself up onto the bench. He was so damn short. Laxus didn't even know how. It wasn't like any of the other Dreyar men were afflicted that way.

"Are you going to board or are you just going to stare?"

"I'm thinking," Laxus replied.

Makarov sat back more, thinner-than-ever shoulder knocking into Laxus' bicep. "What do young men think about, watching trains roll by? I used to know."

"About where I'm going to go," Laxus said after a moment, seeing yet another train pull into the station. Huge puffs of white smoke poured out of its chimney and got lost amongst the grey early-spring clouds. It would be another fifteen minutes until the train left again. Maybe he'd have an answer by then.

"To Raven Tail?"

His answer was immediate and sure. "No." It didn't matter what lies his father told for him or his intentions as he told them. Forgiveness was a wick that had burned itself out.

"Then what is your plan, Laxus?"

He focused hard on the curled metal that made up the train's wheels and admitted, "I don't have one."

"A man without a plan is listless. He'll get taken out by the tide."

It felt like that tide was already dragging him out and had been for some time. Laxus said nothing.

"…Fairy Tail's S Class trials are beginning soon."

"Yeah."

"Mirajane is competing. Despite her injuries."

"Mira's always been dogged." Driven, for sure. Killing her childhood nightmare apparently hadn't changed that one bit.

"She still seeks the demon that murdered Silas Grant. She's worried about Lisanna and Elfman. I'm not confident she has anything to fear."

No, not the She Devil.

Makarov hesitated before saying, "She's been hounding me about you for the last week. Non stop. She's driving me to drink."

Laxus smiled despite himself.

"She wants you to come back to Fairy Tail."

Fairy Tail. Laxus heard himself say, "It's your guild. What do you want, old man?"

"There is a spot for you, if you choose."

"You know, Lahar was right. Kurohebi—"

"Mirajane told me."

Laxus exhaled loudly. Damn Mira.

"We can't see what's ahead of us if we're constantly looking over our shoulder," Makarov said. "You can choose to wallow or you can choose to live. What will it be?"

"Live, I guess," he said.

"Good. Any other answer would cheapen my efforts to bring you home."

"Efforts?" What the hell did that mean?

Unanswering, Makarov shimmied off the bench. Laxus looked at the old man for the first time. He was bundled up in a white fur-trimmed coat, his nose and cheeks red. He'd been outside for sometime. Waiting. He rubbed his wrinkled and cold-chapped hands together. "Let's go, boy, my ass is numb and Porlyusica is irritating me, looking for you. She has a few ideas about fixing and maintaining that lacrima."

More poking and prodding and torturing. He didn't know how he felt about that either. His grandfather read him well.

"You want to be in good condition for the S Class Trials, don't you?"

"…Yeah."

"Then quit moping and let's get moving." He started away with the expectation that Laxus would follow. He did, eventually, when he'd decided he was sick of looking over his shoulder.

A/N:

Hi. Thanks for reading. Yes, it didn't go as smoothly as I wanted. I was disappointed with myself when I wrote it and now two years later I'm still unhappy, which is why I deleted this when someone took time out of their busy day to review when they thought something was fucked up.

So. Anyway. Here it is, all in its ugly glory because regret. regret. regret.