Tattoo

Chapter 11: Anger Beneath The Surface

I am not brash, typically, I am rational, thinking things through and finding a logical recourse is generally necessary within the Dark regions. Controlling one's mind while your head is beating  from a black eye, when your ribs ache from a sudden boot to the chest, is difficult; but needed, less you want a worse situation in an already bad household. Rash decisions typically killed those in a dark guild, because it ended up with one walking into a trap or being ambushed.

I can be brash, I can shift my movements suddenly and spring into action on instinct, indulge in the thrill of exuberance. That is when my anger slashes through my body, when I get so restless with hatred that my eyes go white and my body tenses so much my limbs go numb. That is nearly what happened when Natsu flew out of the wall, with a sickening crunch of bone behind him.

~0~

The way he'd wiggled himself upwards in a shamble of motion so wavered it could hardly be called sitting up, how his eyes widened as pain settled in and he screamed so quiet near no one could hear. I heard. My blood froze at the sound, my skin had coiled fast in fear, fright, panic. I'd run so fast to his side that I had almost used my lightning- but he was close. Close enough for me to see the gashes, the blood seeping from his mouth, pooling at his back, his leg twisted completely wrong, his breath had been too shallow even I had to lean into his chest to hear. He'd whimpered -Natsu doesn't whimper- when I'd picked him up in a damsels carry- I couldn't risk carrying him any other way, but it had hurt, I knew it had hurt.

My hands were shaking, definitely, undoubtedly, when the little girl had come to my side a horrified expression in little eyes that looked to be somewhat adapt. I made no move to question, no sound to protest, as she gently attempted a lose first aid on him, medical magic, but weak in age and experience. I heard Makarov shout, only dimly due to the pumping blood rushing through my ears, but it was directed towards me so I forced my head to turn slowly in his direction. I cannot imagine my expression, I don't know whether I was so frightened that I'd remained entirely stoic in visage, or if every one of my fears had echoed on my face in pure show for everyone to see.

He'd spoken to me in a panic himself, but unwavering and firm in his voice and actions- age showcased in his strict tone. "Take him to Polyusca! She's in the tree outside of the city!" I did, I ran, and then I didn't. My lightning seemed to take control of my body and shot me through the air on its own merit; but I know that isn't true, my panic, instinct, had set in and my mind had forced the action.

I'd sat there for days, under blaring silence, waiting, and waiting, waiting and waiting. It was clutching at me to not know what would happen. He was so still in those days, his body didn't move except for the rare twitch of his fingers, the furrow in his brow. I sat in an uncomfortable slouch beside, sometimes with my hand resting over his, checking the pulse. Sometimes just watching his eyelids to see if they fluttered- if they gave any indication really.

I saw him shivering the third night, when I had been exhausted but unable to allow myself the rest, and ignorance of sleep. His body shivered, and I'd hastily draped my coat over him for a fraction more warmth, I didn't need it in those moments anyway. I made no move to talk to the healer, regardless of my gratitude I had no way to express it and my lips remained firmly shut. Her silence and blank express showed me she didn't care.

I had thought alot. Many astray thoughts, many heavy ones. Mostly there was silence, rather an atmosphere which I embrace with ease; it had been. Though my adaptation to Natsu's presence had nudged me into the acceptance of a loud room, yelling voice and the crash of some abstract object falling to the floor. The silence cast around me, imposing as the moments before an assault, too quiet to be acceptable, myself sitting still with nothing in my hands with only my thoughts to truly keep me company. There is no clattering as a person opens the door, no yell of entry or sound of shoes against the floor, no titters of conversation back and forth within the small space, too quiet; because none of his guildmates had come to visit at all.

Understanding this, knowing this, brought the pressure to press against my skull, rubbing my temples didn't work and the beating of my heart was intense in my chest. Energy was seeping into my arms and legs as thrilling adrenaline began to excite the muscles, my vision had blurred, my fists had coiled so tight my palms had bled heavily from the stabbing nails. Maybe my eyes had lost their iris- it had happened before so I'm told, but I couldn't notice it. In the very corner of my vision a bright flash flickered outside, before the grumbling roar of a building thunder could be heard outside. Static piled around me in little nipping sensations growing close to daunting lightning but not quite there. I had snapped my jaw tight closed against the fermenting growl rising in my throat and the grinding of my teeth had hurt my jaw- not that I had cared.

Brash action? It hadn't crossed my mind at all, instinct was running strong and I had been pissed enough to roar through the Magic Council's high chamber and not give a fuck about the consquences inlayin. Taking defence for my pinkette laying in a hospital bed from wounds inflected by his own guild- did not soothe the mounting need to do something drastic in his name. I had stood up sharply and the chair I'd sat fell to the floor with a resounding echo in the silence.

I had been ready, I had -in truth- been yearning. However, after I had taken a step to the inviting door; I had heard a subtle groan behind me automatically my head flicked back to the hospital bed where Natsu lay, he had shifted about somewhat, obviously in pain; but he had, and it was more then he had done in days. My anger dropped in a second, and I had pulled my chair up with a sigh so big it heaved my chest, rationality pouring back into my head with a slight resistance- my tattoo seemed to beat against my shoulder in a reminder; Nastu would never forgive me if I did something horrid to his guild. Understanding that I fell into the seat and crossed my legs together, quiet and staring at my pinkette sleeping, sitting with glaring eyes and thin pressed lips in annoyance.