Saving Levy

Chapter Three

Gajeel watched as Levy walked slowly up to the white house before him. She was scared. He could see it plain as day, but she refused to talk to him about home matters. The wound over her ribs was still a mystery and so far she hadn't allowed him to glimpse more then just her wrist, which she hid once stitched. Sighing, he watched the little blunette look back one last time before entering the house.

Metalicana was still up, reading in the living room, when Gajeel entered his home. Wendy was sound asleep in a strange position in front of the TV in the other room. She was upside-down in her seat with one slippered foot thrown over the top of the chair and the other over the arm rest. Her head lay crooked against the other arm rest, one hand in the popcorn bowl and the other twisted up underneath her back. Gajeel laughed, slowly extracting his baby sister from her seat. Her weight was almost non-existent as he carried her to her bedroom on the second floor.

Wendy's room was a rather large and well decorated space that contained every item the child had to her name. A small twin mattress lay on the floor in one corner of the room, nestled in the nook between two bookshelves, with a sky blue blanket draped over it. A single while pillow lay perched like a cloud against the blue. Twelve books, varying in height, thickness, and contents rested on one shelf of the first bookcase. Small toys, snow globes, photos, and pieces of clothing singed and dirty lay randomly across the rest of the shelving. A small white dresser only half full and a plain mirror rested against the wall to the left. The rest of the room was bare, save the plain curtains that hung over her large window. Gajeel could still remember the day he painted the walls of the room to mirror the sky outside in hopes of cheering the little girl up.

The bare room often bothered Metalicana, leaving him concerned over his new daughter's happiness. The queen sized four poster bed and large dresser, both hand carved from jade, were remove upon request by the child. The hundreds of stuffed animals, dresses, books, and electronics that once filled the room awaiting her arrival were donated to orphanages and homeless shelters. The only thing the girl kept was a single carved iron rose. Wendy was a sweet girl with a big heart, a girl who could have anything she wanted, but chose to live with only what she saved from the fire.

Gajeel tucked his baby sister in and turned out the light before retreating from the room in search of his father. He needed advice and Metalicana had more than enough. His father sat in the same spot he was in when the boy got home. The man put his book down as his son sat heavily beside him. Worry shadowed the boy's features as he prepared to speak. "She was scared."

-Levy danced through the oncoming waves, singing as the sun warmed her skin. Jet and Droy were brawling in the sand just out of tide's reach over who would rub sunscreen on her back. Suddenly, a shadow spread over the water around her like oil, suffocating her in fear. Large, combat toned arms grabbed the girl from behind, pulling her into the sea. The water filled her lungs as she fought to get away. Her arms sliced through the water as her legs kicked out at her attacker. Something sparkled near her waist catching her eye. A plain silver wedding ring shone against the shadowy arms around her. She knew that ring. Her panic rose rapidly as her father's arms drug her deeper into the dark swirling liquid around her.-

Levy sat up and searched her room with fearful eyes before stopping at the door. She could hear her father coming up the stairs, drunk off whiskey and angered by memories of days spent in the arms of his beloved. It was nights like this that left her paralyzed in fear. She sat quiet, careful not to move as though it would trigger what was to come. The handle to the door shifted slightly, claiming her attention, for a moment she forgot how to breathe. The door was unlocked!

Derek slowly opened the door. He wanted to hug his baby. Wanted to show love to the only thing left of his wife. He knew she was hurting too and wanted to comfort the child his wife had fought hard to bring into this world. Deep down, he knew Nicolette's death was an accident and no one was to blame, but he couldn't help himself. As soon as the door opened and he looked into those eyes, eyes that once belonged to his love, eyes now round in fear. The anger built and built. He moved to sit next to her as her shaking, sweat covered body flinched in fear. He wanted to tell her he was sorry but instead his anger fueled by alcohol was nearing its peak.