A/N: IT ONLY TOOK FIVE MONTHS THIS TIME, I'M GETTING BETTER YOU GUYS.

Check bottom A/N for more info etc, but for now...the moment exactly none of you have been waiting for...a whole ass chapter from only one character's POV! That's right! OC time!

Somewhere, in the distance, my 12 year old self is imploding. Yikes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does. Also don't own any songs used at the beginning and end of every chapter.

We will flow away with the wind,

We will live in the sky.

You are my rain,

And I am your cloud, my beloved.

-Kalank

Future Timeline

Magnolia, Fiore

Thursday, February 4th, X793

9:22 AM

"Where is she?"

"Rogue, holy shit, your arm! Fuck, get Wendy here-!"

"Where is she?"

Sting exchanges a helpless look with Laxus as he stabilizes the jagged piece of metal embedded in his forearm.

"Sting. Where is she?" Rogue snaps, swatting his best friend's hands away. Fidgeting is one of Sting's oldest deflecting techniques and he's not got the time to play twenty questions when Lucy's - he cuts himself off. She's okay. She's got to be okay.

"There was a dragon, Scissor Runner…"

No.

"Lucy engaged on her own because we needed some extra cover, and then Motherglare appeared…"

No. No. Nonononono-

"You know the protocol once Motherglare appears. We had to run. We tried to get her but-"

"You abandoned her," Rogue says as an eerie calm washes through his veins. In that moment, everything fades to nothing: the voices in the infirmary, the cold air against his skin, the throbbing ache in his arm, the smell of blood in the air. Everything except sight. He doesn't see red, no he's far past that. His vision is spotting explosive, hot white.

"Rogue, I - hey, what the fuck!" Sting yelps as Rogue rips the metal out of his arm and allows it to the clatter on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Getting my wife back," Rogue snarls.

"We can't afford backup troops," Laxus says, pressing a hand to his shoulder. There's a buildup of static electricity under his fingers and he ducks out from his grasp before the Lightning Slayer can start up with his brain stimulation routine.

"I don't care. I'm going alone."

"It's a suicide mission, man," Gray says from where he's icing a gaping wound on Natsu's leg.

"And if it were Sorano, you intend to tell me you would not do the same?"

Gray presses his lips together in a thin line.

"That's what I thought." Rogue unfastens his shredded cloak and wraps the usable portions around his arm in a makeshift bandage, throwing the rest on the floor behind him.

Present Day

14 Strawberry Street

Magnolia, Fiore.

Tuesday, October 19th, X792.

6:30 AM

The clock on the wall is interesting to watch.

She's never seen a clock before. There was never enough lacrima to spare to power one, so she'd grown used to approximates and found comfort in tracking shadows to pass time. A minute was an inch, an hour a little more, and a day was light to dark like clockwork. Mom used to use that phrase a lot - 'like clockwork'. When she asked what that meant, mom smiled and said 'one day you'll see'.

She used to say that a lot, too.

Like clockwork is the reliable 'tick-tick-tick' of the second hand that she learns matches the steady beat of her own heart. It's the 'tock' every time the minute hand edges forward - twelve breaths in time. It's the soft jingle once an hour passes and the sky grows a shade lighter and the shadows start fading away. Time has meaning. It's something she can touch with her hands, well within her grasp if she tries hard enough to find the tail end of it.

But she doesn't.

Cynthia looks out the window and waits for the sun to peek up from the horizon to welcome a new day.

"Do you want orange juice? I totally understand if you don't, it tastes gross after brushing your teeth. Porlyusica said to up your vitamins, though, and I figure this stuff has a lot, but we can find some alternatives soon! I mean, we have to go pick up your pills soon anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter, but a well-rounded meal is vital for a growing-"

She rambles a lot, this version of her mom. Lucy. She can't decide what feels weirder to say. She's not her mom, but Lucy feels wrong. They're the same person, aren't they? But they're not. They look the same and they talk the same but mom would never walk on eggshells around her.

"What does 'walk on eggshells' mean?" Cynthia asks.

"Huh? Oh, it means you're very delicate in regards to something because it's fragile. It's a metaphor, because if you squeeze an egg too hard it breaks, so you have to be very gentle walking on eggshells," Lucy explains, her brow furrowing just a little.

"Oh. I'll have water." She walks to the table, balancing on the balls of her feet. There are no squeaky floors here and no scary dragons outside, but she can't walk around normally. That's something only adults do because they can do it quietly. Dad said he would show her how Dragon Slayers did it one day when she was older.

Rogue watches her as she takes a seat, careful not to make a noise. He doesn't talk much, just like dad. It's harder for her to see the differences between them when they don't seem to exist. They both always look empty. Except dad didn't seem empty when he looked at her or mom. He was happy then. Rogue looks at Lucy like he's scared of something, sometimes, but mostly he looks at her like he's sad. Cynthia doesn't have a word for his eyes when he looks at her. It's not angry or happy or sad, but something a little more distant.

Lucy hands her a glass of water and a bowl of oatmeal because Porlyusica said she had to eat light food to start. Unsweetened, although there's some bananas mashed in. It's probably the most filling, clean thing she's ever eaten. Mom said that one day she'd have so much food she'd never know what to do with it - that never made sense to her. The first thing she'd do is make sure mom and dad ate, because they were always giving her half of theirs.

Cynthia waits to see that both Rogue and Lucy have plates before taking a bite of her own breakfast. They don't talk. It's a 'covert rule', like Aunt Levy explained. It's much more comfortable in the silence where she can pretend Rogue's hair is longer and Lucy's got scars running along her arms and they're dad and mom. Just dad and mom.

It's quiet for a long time. She makes sure not to let her spoon scrape the sides of the dish even though it will only startle the birds. There a lot of those here, in all sorts of colours and patterns, just as Miss Sorano told her before she died. She stuffs her mouth before she can ask them if Miss Sorano's alive in this timeline, ignoring the tightness in her shoulder at the motion; Lucy cried the last time she did, and even Rogue seemed shaken up by it. It's just another reminder that no matter how everything looks the same, that's all it is: looks. Back home, these questions are normal. Expected, even. Mom and dad tried to shield her from it for the longest time but at one point there were simply not enough people left to hide the whispered conversations between. They tried even until the end, though.

"We were thinking we could go clothes shopping?" Lucy suggests after they've all cleared their plates. "You could use some new clothes. And maybe a haircut, if you'd like?"

Cynthia touches her stringy hair. It's the one thing of hers that's also dad's: the colour, the length, even the angles to the curling ends. 'Splitting image', Uncle Sting used to say, tugging those unruly strands. Her back tenses like she's bracing for a hit, except all that comes is a dull throb in her chest when she thinks of him. Of all of them. They all died with Uncle Sting, even if some of them were still walking.

"Or not," Lucy adds quickly, "Just the clothes is fine."

"Okay," Cynthia murmurs, picking a knot of wood in the table to stare at as she forces everything to go away, the tightness in her chest, the subtle thudthudthud of her heart picking up in speed. Everything's better when she doesn't feel. Everything is safe until she starts again.

Across from her, Rogue closes his eyes.

Present Day

Central Mart

Magnolia, Fiore.

Tuesday, October 19th, X792.

10:23 AM

Cynthia's never seen these many people in her life. They bustle around her decked in colours she can't give names to, chatting away at a decibel she thinks shouldn't even be possible from humans. Lucy and Rogue seem comfortable enough pushing through the crowd with her in tow. It's like second nature to them when all she wants to do is slink away into the shadows until it's safe to come out again. How do they know people here won't hurt them? How do they know where's safe?

"How about that one?" Lucy points to one of the larger stores in the mall. "They've got a good variety for a decent price. We can get you a whole new wardrobe."

"We need to purchase an actual wardrobe, too," Rogue says.

"I'm sure we can ask Laki."

"Ah."

She's immensely grateful for the sudden drop in pressure upon entering the store. Her eyes follow Rogue's to the doors, where a set of runes are painted neatly on the frame. "Silencing runes," he explains for her sake, "Most stores have them to keep the outside noise out."

"Kind of genius, huh? Okay, um...I'm not really sure how to do this. Do you want us to follow you around or do you want to wander around nearby for a bit to see if you like something?" Lucy asks, bending down to her level. Although she tenses at the thought of wandering around alone in the open like this - it's one of those cardinal rules not even Uncle Laxus broke while he was alive - she can't deny that the thought of indulging in one of her favourite past-times sends a thrill down her back. There was never much to explore in the hideout but she cherished the little freedom she had to be alone for a few hours before dad would find her. It's safer here though, she reasons, and it's not like a dragon is going to come crashing through the roof for her head, so she nods at Lucy and mumbles 'yes, please' so quietly it sounds like a soft exhale.

"Alright! Sounds like a plan to me. I'll just be a few racks down that way and Rogue…"

"I'll find you both later."

With that, they're gone, and Cynthia's alone.

The first thing she does is march over to the rack with the darkest clothing in her size. The lady next to her looks at the little tag attached to a shirt and winces, turning on her heel and walking away. Curious, she flips the tag on a pair of dark wash jeans and squints at the number. Three thousand Jewel; a little ping goes off in her head as she scrambles to find a definition for that. 'Notation exchanged for material goods' is a start, but it doesn't tell her much - is that a good price? A bad price? Uncle Natsu used to call mom a miser for complaining over Jewels back before the war, but what counts as miserly? Cynthia gnaws at her lips and takes a second to appreciate the tangy lip balm Lucy had been diligently applying for her since her arrival. She's hardly felt a crack since. It's nice to be able to taste something other than blood on her lips.

The older lady seemed to think three thousand was a bit much, so using that as a metric she shuffles off to a rack labeled 'clearance', where she swipes up a pair of black jeans and a mossy green shirt that matches the trees outside. Her fingers pause for a second too long on a shirt that's more pink ruffles than white fabric. It's so pretty, but it's so inconspicuous it hurts her eyes. You're safe here. You can afford to wear colour.

But can I?

She grabs the dark grey turtleneck behind it instead, adding to the pile in her arms.

Can't afford to take chances. Never.

"You know, I think you'd do a better job of blending in if you went for the girly stuff," an amused voice says from behind her, "unless your plan is to not blend in."

Cynthia eyes the newcomer critically. Two-toned hair, tall, scruffy, and undeniably a mage if the calluses on his fingers are any indication. She's seen him before somewhere.

"I agree, the ruffles are a bit much, though," he says, nodding at the clothes in her grasp, "but the army gear isn't much better. You're seven, not seventeen."

How does he know how old I am? Cynthia takes a step back and fights to keep her panic out of her eyes. There were few rogue mages back home but those that she met - or, rather, her parents met - did nothing but hijack the chaos of the dragons for their own gain. She glanced around wildly, looking for exits: he's got the main one blocked but perhaps there's a back door - ?

He catches the look on her face and waves his hands placatingly. "Ah, right. Forgot to introduce myself, my bad. I'm Totomaru Kaji. I don't suppose you've heard of me before?"

Totomaru.

"Ahh, see, we were once a part of this little...gang of sorts. The Element Four! Well, Gajeel was more of a side member, but there was Aria, Sol, Totomaru, and-"

"Juvia," Cynthia murmurs.

"Yeah, Juvia. We were teammates once."

"Element Four."

"Guess she gave you the whole run-down in that timeline. Well, saves me time, then. I assume Lucy and Rogue are hovering around somewhere, but until then…" Totomaru crouches down to her level and jerks his head at her clothes. "Fill me in on that."

Cynthia blinks. Fill him in on what?

"Er, right. Why the drab clothes?"

"Blends in with the background. Easier to hide."

"Why do you need to hide here? You're safe."

"For now." For now. It's always been a never-ending loop of for now. Grandmother Layla used to tell her mom stories about the stars; mom would brush her hair back and have her recite the quickest route to the safety bunkers from her room. Just for now, sweetie. One day we won't have to do this anymore. Today is probably that day, but for some reason it doesn't feel that way. Her heart still races as if the dragons and shadow creatures are lurking behind the clouds, and she's the only one who seems to care.

"You should enjoy the 'for now' while you can, don't you think?" When she doesn't reply, he sighs and scratches his head. "Not very talkative, huh? Alright. That's fine, normally I'm not either, but I guess one of us has to be."

"Don't think so."

"True. Alright, here's an idea: you keep shopping, and I'll...keep an eye on you. Safety in numbers."

"My six," she parrots what Uncle Sting used to say to her dad before missions. "You...have my six."

"I guess, yeah."

Cynthia nods sharply and turns back to the racks. Totomaru's good about staying quiet; she doesn't even her him walk and he's got on wooden shoes. Her own flats make a soft clack that has her face twisted into a permanent grimace that worsens as she tries to soften the sound. How does he do that? She makes a note to ask him later.

He watches her pick out her clothes with a curious eye, twitching his fingers every so often when she reaches for something, but there isn't a pattern to it - she checks. Twice. When she's got six black pants and six dark tops to match, he huffs. She grabs a shirt at random, just to see if it's the even number that's set him off, and grows still when he smiles.

"Finally, a bit of colour." Cynthia furrows her brow and looks at the shirt in her hand. Red. Bright red. Blood red. Natsu red. She drops it like it's on fire and exhales shakily. That's too colourful. It's like a beacon saying 'kill me'. Even Uncle Natsu stopped with the fiery accents to his shirts after a while. How can she of all people even think about donning something this bright when a dragon slayer wouldn't? Totomaru picks up the shirt - no, it's more of a cloak? - and places it on top of her shirts, patting it gently.

"You don't have to wear it right away. It's for when you're ready to."

Choices. She's never really had those before.

"Totomaru," Rogue greets, materializing from the shadows.

"Hi, Rogue." Totomaru waves, standing up and dusting his yukata off. "It's been a while. Ran into your daughter and thought we'd chat."

"Future Rogue's."

Totomaru raised a brow. "Of course. Future Rogue's."

Future Rogue's. Right. Not his. Never his. Don't belong. Not your home.

"Oh! Hi, Totomaru! Fancy seeing you here!" Lucy says, more cheerful than Cynthia's seen her as of late. She doesn't miss the solid three feet she keeps between herself and Rogue. "Oh, wow, look at that poncho! Good choice, Cynthia, it's super cute!"

Poncho, she mouths to herself. That's new.

"I was wondering if we could all have a chat," Totomaru says, "My office. Now, preferably."

Present Day

Magnolia Central Psychiatric Hospital

Magnolia, Fiore.

Tuesday, October 19th, X792.

11:30 AM

Totomaru's office is smaller than her bedroom back home, but she supposes it's because it's so...full. There's a square on his desk not covered in papers that looks like it's the size of a paper, and there are paper towers the size of her head surrounding it. The bookshelves are stuffed to the brim and then some, and what's not shelves lies in piles on the floor nearby. There are only two chairs squeezed in, so she picks a book pile to sit on while Lucy and Rogue take the chairs, looking about as comfortable as she is - which is to say, not at all.

Totomaru has a file open in front of him that he's looking through as he speaks. "I'll be honest with you, the survey I sent you home with left me with more questions than answers, so I'll...do what I can here. Cynthia, what kind of magic can you use?"

"Water." Rogue looks as confused as he can manage, and Lucy just looks sad.

"Do you need to hold something to use the water or no?"

"No."

"Where does the water come from."

"Puddles."

"Not thin air?"

"No. Tried once, didn't work."

"Any other magic?"

She pauses. It was only once and mom was over the moon when she told her, but dad said not to tell anyone else…

"No," she lies. Totomaru stares at her for a second and then sighs sharply, turning to her not-parents with an unamused smile on his face. "I expect this level of nonsense from Fairy Tail, but from what Dobengal's told me of Sabertooth...oh, well. Okay, what do you know about magical inheritance?"

"Nothing," Rogue answers for them.

"Great, wonderful. To make it short, you don't directly inherit either the type - Caster or Holder - of magic your parents have, or their specific type of magic, so fire, take-over, et cetera. You're born with the capacity for both Holder and Caster, but your parents being one or the other increases the chances for one or the other. For example, if...Elfman and Evergreen were to have a child, the child would be twice as likely to develop a Caster type magic of some sort, but they would still have the capacity for Holder type. Now, you're a Holder/Caster mix, which is fairly common, but my main...concern, if you will, is the fact that both of your magic are incredibly heritable.

"Rogue, as a Dragon Slayer, we don't have much data on your particular branch of magic but if the research I've done is true it does tend to run in families. Of course, the data are hundreds of years old so it's not very reliable but we'll make do with what we have. Lucy, your magic definitely runs in families. In fact the Heartfilia women are almost traditionally required to be Celestial Spirit users. The fact that Cynthia has not only entirely bypassed her matrilineal line of type inheritance, but also any relation whatsoever to her father's Caster magic is...almost unheard of, really.

"I said earlier that inheritance was tricky and that's true. I would normally expect her to be able to use something similar to Rogue's magic. Not Dragon Slayer, but something related to shadows. The magic you develop reflects your environment to an extent, and your environment influences your magic - if you have an elemental predisposition and you're around a lot of grass growing up then you can use grass-type magic; so I assume the environment she was in had a lot of water access? Or perhaps Aquarius in that timeline...nevermind, I'm getting off track.

"The point is, she's got a very uniquely wired set of magic and unless you've managed to figure out the Aquarius situation, Lucy, none of you are prepared to handle it."

"That's short?" Lucy mutters.

Totomaru goes a little pink. "I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I might have to write a paper about this later on, I'm getting a publishing itch again. Anyway. Like I said, none of you are prepared to handle it and frankly none of you are prepared to handle her."

Cynthia frowns. She's been good. They can handle her. They have been handling her, unless she's done something bad she can't remember…she rolls the ache out of her neck and shoulders as best she can.

"We can handle her," Rogue says firmly.

"No, you can't." Totomaru leans back and sighs again. "Rogue already knows this, but for those unaware-"

"You mean me," Lucy mutters again.

"-I'm a licensed psychiatrist with a subspecialty in trauma rehab, which is tragically perfect for this situation. For all of you. I'm also a magical tutor, which, once again, tragically makes me perfect for this. I'll take Cynthia on as my student, but I'll also be there to give her the therapy she needs to deal with...everything thus far," he informs them with a grim smile. "You both need help. Because of the events from the first Gate, you're both still understandably uncomfortable with one another even if you've managed a truce, and that's not going to help her here. She needs stability, not whatever it is you have going on right now."

No, Cynthia wants to interject, I need them in whatever way I can get them. I need mom and dad. They'll do. Please don't take me away.

But she stays quiet and still because this is a threat and this is what she's supposed to do until it's handled.

"We can be stable," Lucy snaps, rising to her feet and looking like hell incarnate in her eyes. "We are stable. Excuse us for being a little shaken up by the suddenness of this all, but we've got this handled, Totomaru."

"I concur," Rogue says, though he doesn't rise up in indignation like she does. "We are capable of handling this."

"When was the last time either of you spoke with Sting or Cobra?" That shuts them up. Lucy pales so much so quickly she collapses back into her seat and presses a shaky hand to her mouth.

"We're working on it," Rogue lies. Cynthia knows he's lying because that's how she lies, too. He taught her how.

"No, you are not," a melodic voice calls from the entrance. "But it is understandable."

A thousand sensations flood Cynthia when she hears that voice: learning to swim, birthday cakes, forming floating balls of water, blue everywhere, dolls and needles, sweet things and rainfall. Tears and a funeral.

Aunt Juvia looks a lot calmer here than she did back home. Her face is less gaunt, framed by hair that's curlier than she remembers it being. Her outfit is just as conservative as before, covering her neck to toe. Her eyes are happier. So much happier. Cynthia digs her fingers into her legs to keep them from launching her across the room so she can hug her. This isn't my Aunt Juvia. Not mine.

"I'm a fire-type mage and she needs a water-type to model. I've also come to the logical conclusion that in that timeline, Juvia was the one to help her with her magic seeing as she's the only Caster Water mage between Fairy Tail and Sabertooth," Totomaru explains.

"Juvia is glad to help," she says with a slight bow their way. "Juvia also wants to inform Rogue and Lucy that they should make arrangements to meet with Sting and Cobra soon. Laxus says it is either that or he forces the four of you to sit down in his office and have tea therapy with Mira." Cynthia doesn't remember much of Aunt Mira except kind eyes and a voice like windchimes so the brief flash of fear across Lucy's face is surprising.

"Right," Lucy says tightly, "We should do that soon, then."

"Today," Totomaru prompts bluntly. "No offense, but I only have enough time and energy to deal with one of you."

"I'll go get them. You take Cynthia back to your house-"

"No, she stays here. I'd rather get started on her rehab now instead of later. She doesn't need to be there to see that, and they should probably be meeting her when the four of you figure out what the hell is going on amongst yourselves."

She rather likes Totomaru. He's honest in a way that no adult has ever been around her, mostly because they think she doesn't notice the same things they do. Cynthia's not stupid. She knows she's not supposed to be here (she's not supposed to be anywhere but buried with her parents, really) and she knows that life here isn't like life back home. The only thing that's the same is the way her parents and this Rogue and Lucy do their best to pretend everything is fine when she's around, even when they're aware, if nothing but subconsciously, that there's no point because she's been trained to listen. Life has always been dependent on the ability to stay quiet, hidden, eyes wide, ears open. Three days of relative peace is nothing when she's lived through weeks of calm and then a deluge of dragons and Uncle Gray's body blown to bits before her very eyes.

Rogue shifts uncomfortably, the barest hint of panic in his eyes, and nods. "Fine."

"Cynthia, are you okay if we leave you here with Totomaru and Juvia for a bit? We'll be right back, promise," Lucy says. Cynthia nods, equal parts because that's what's expected of her and the fact that the tension between the three of them is getting painful.

"Are you going to leave or keep monologuing? Because if I wanted to see Shakespeare I'd pay for it."

The first thing Totomaru does is make her write a test. There's math on there, ranging from simple addition to things with curvy lines and letters, along with language and comprehension. She answers what she can, which is admittedly very little, and guesses for the rest. Her writing isn't the neatest and she's certain she misspelt everything as is tradition for her; mom may have been an avid reader but there were no books around growing up and she had to make do with chalk and dirt for her lessons, if they could even be called that.

There are more tests, but they make less sense to her than the written one. He asks her to draw a clock with the time of ten minutes past three; after that she has to replicate a pattern of squares and triangles in a line, then trace a jumble of numbers in order, and then copy a drawing by looking at it first and then not looking at it. She watches his face carefully after she's done every task, looking for any hint of distress or disapproval, but he remains perfectly blank. Is this normal? Does he make all his students do this? Is she doing this right? Is there even a right way to do this? Cynthia's never felt so shaky in her life as she waits for the next test, her hands wet even after she rubs them against her jeans. This is...uncomfortable.

Her first break comes in the form of his lips twitching down when he has her do a test where she has to say the colour of the word and not the word itself. It's just a fraction of a second but it's there and that's something she can deal with.

"Alright," Totomaru sighs, closing his notebook and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I've got my work cut out for me."

"Did bad?"

"As a psychiatrist, I'm supposed to say there's no bad, only a workable baseline. Except I think you're a bit smarter than that, so I'll be honest with you: yes, it's bad. But not bad-bad, it's…" he huffs, frustrated, and turns to Juvia, who's been watching quietly from the other chair. "English this for me."

"Totomaru means to say that this does not mean that Cynthia is bad, but that Cynthia is hurt and the tests show that," Juvia supplies, smiling at her kindly.

"This is why I keep you around. I'll keep this brief: academically, you're about three years behind your peers. I've worked with worse so we can get you up to speed soon. Emotionally, we're going to be here for a long time."

"Totomaru."

"Okay, emotionally we're going to be here for a not-short amount of time, but it's not like this is going to take decades to undo. It will take months, if not years, and even then we're going to need to meet every so often to make sure you're not regressing." Totomaru braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, meeting her gaze carefully. Most of the adults in her life up until now have always had the exact same look in their eyes when talking to her, a perfectly hopeful, happy sort of glint that's rarely ever real - she's come to associate all of that with dread because that's the kind of look that means they're hiding something bad just so she can sleep easy at night. But Totomaru has none of that. There's no false joy or hope or even any pity in those pitch black eyes; just calm expectation.

For the first time in a long time, her back feels a little less tight, her breaths a little easier to manage.

"Juvia and I are ready to help you. Are you ready to be helped?"

"Yes," Cynthia says quietly, but it feels like she's shouting it from the rooftops. He grins and flops back in his chair, stretching like a cat. "And my job for the day is officially over. Juvia, the kid's all yours."

"Totomaru will be being a lazy, unproductive member of society then?"

"Nope, I'll be watching from the distance." Juvia raises a brow and he tacks on, "And marking. Always marking."

"If Totomaru was not so lazy on the weekend, he would not be so behind in marking," she sniffs, ignoring his sputters as she turns to face Cynthia. Juvia holds up her hand, barely flexing her fingers to summon a small sphere of water so clear it takes her breath away. Is it possible for water to look like that? It's magic, yes, but this is magic.

"Juvia has been informed Cynthia has a water affinity. We will begin by practicing holding this in the air. Juvia wishes to see you hold this in exactly this shape and size for one second." Juvia waits for her to hold out her hand, and then gently passes the water ball off to her. The second Juvia lets go, the water splashes all over the floor and her clothes and Cynthia's heart stutters erratically in her chest. This has never happened before this isn't normal this isn't good she needs to concentrate she needs she needs she needs she doesn't know what she needs but it's something she can't touch in time to fix this she needs to runrunrun.

"Stop," Totomaru says curtly, less amused than he was a second ago. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"I've done this before, I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what to do. I can't fix this. I don't know where to go."

"Why do you need to go?"

"Dad said when bad things happen I need to go and hide."

"Is this bad?"

This throws her for a loop. It feels bad. Burning and hair pricked right up like there's a dragon nearby, but she can't hear any screaming. "...yes?" she says hesitantly, "I don't...know. Feels like it's bad. Like there's a dragon outside and I can't see it but I feel it's there. Feels the same."

"That's called anxiety, Cynthia, and it can happen even when there's no danger around you. Your heart is beating really fast now and you're nervous. Those are things you've always felt when dragons were nearby, right? You feel that now so you feel like you're in danger, but you're not." As Totomaru says this, Juvia summons all the water back into the same ball as before, but it's pulsing gently this time. "Watch the water and take deep, steady breaths. Your heart is going to start to beat slower. When you feel like it's beating in time with the water, you tell me and we'll start again."

It feels like it takes forever, but she counts 400 pulses before nodding his way.

"This time, if you feel it again, I want you to do what we just did. Breathe through it no matter how much it's freaking you out. Anxiety is normal. This is new. It's okay to not do this perfectly. That's the point of this, to show you how."

Cynthia accepts the ball and it falls apart again and her heart is racing, but she forces herself to breathe. There are no dragons. This is anxiety. There are no dragons. She is safe. Breathe. In and out. In and out. It's so hard when her heart beats so powerfully it forces her lungs into tiny corners, but there are tiny breaths and those are fine. There are no dragons.

Juvia forms the ball, and like that it gets easier to breathe again. Every steady inhale forces her lungs to widen a bit more, a tiny protest that forces her heart to remember where it belongs.

"Okay," Cynthia says, hand out. "Again."

Future Timeline

Magnolia, Fiore

Friday, February 5th, X793

7:42 PM

The hospital wing is surprisingly empty considering the chaos of the previous day. Part of Rogue wonders if it was vacated on purpose after his return.

"Wendy said I was fine," Lucy says, "Can you please look at me?"

What will he see when he looks at her? That Wendy was lying? That there's a line on her throat that he had to hold shut that's still bleeding in his eyes? The bandages keeping her together where he's failed? Rogue tries to find parts of her that aren't broken but he can't find anything.

"Rogue, please."

"They abandoned you. You were still alive."

"It's protocol."

"Fuck protocol!" he snarls, his echo taking him by surprise. So this is why nobody else is here. Lucy doesn't flinch, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly.

"My life does not outweigh those of the others. Save as many as we can, lose as few as we can. We designed the protocol, Rogue. You signed off on it."

"I don't care, you were still there. They could've saved you."

"You're being irrational."

"You can call me irrational after you've been forced to botch a cauterization on me and then drag my half-dead body back to base. Do you have any idea what it was like sitting outside waiting for Wendy to finish up with you? I was still covered in your blood, Lucy. It felt like a prison. You're my wife, how can you not see what…"

"I'm pregnant."

Rogue doesn't quite know how he remembers to inhale, but once his vision starts dotting black he takes in a little gasp of air that's shot right out and he's back to feeling dizzy but not quite dizzy enough to pass out. Just enough that Lucy's blurring and pregnant?

"Wendy found it while healing me just now. I'm only a few weeks along."

Baby. Baby. Baby.

"What do you want to do?" he says once the world stops fading in and out.

"I don't know. If this were any other time…" If this were any other time he would've been as close to ecstatic as he's capable of getting. If this were any other time he would've hugged her tight and told her he loved her and they were going to be parents. If this were any other time…he squeezes his eyes shut and swallows against the choking sensation in his throat.

"It's not safe," Rogue says, detached. Dragons and babies do not mix. Dragons and babies do not mix. The baby will die and so will he.

"It's not safe," she agrees, "But…I think we can try anyway."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Okay." Rogue presses his lips to her hand. "We'll try."

What kind of turn in the road has life brought us to,

Where we have become distant from ourselves?

-Kalank

A/N: WOW OKAY first of all sorry it took so long to write this but my love for FT is literally dead and gone from this world, esp after the ending and it's been really hard to find the motivation to finish any of my FT fics when I hate canon so much it hurts. Reading FT100YQ literally killed any love I had for the series, but I'm determined to get the complete sign up on every fucking fic that doesn't have it yet.

That's right, I'm going to finish this. Hopefully by June. For some reason June is my lucky month, 'cause I finished 41 Days of Lucy then, too. It's probs cause that's my birth month and my chaotic Gemini energy is at its highest. Anyway, yes Chaos Theory will finally be done and then I can sleep in fucking peace.

Listen, I'm in my last year of university, I wanna get all these unfinished projects done so I can move on to things I'm actually hype for (rhos if you're reading this you know). Part of this means I'm also going to finish Hit and Miss (okay, I still like this one so), and Red Card (I'm never doing ship weeks again, I can never finish them riefjomk), Memento Mori (I low-key wanna hit 100 chapters on that though, give me your feedback on what you think), Father (I'm so attached to the papalogia identity).

Certain fics are really up for debate: One Missed Call, Mellifluous, Portals to Hell, and One-Ply Promises. I want to finish them. I don't know what you want to see me do with them. How long do you want them? Do you want them to be serious or my brand of meme-y? Pls sirs I'm begging for y'alls opinions here.

Thanks for readings this note, sorry if I sound whiny, I'm just...so tired. I'm never gonna write a long-fic ever again, this is way too much work and I've found my niche in dumpster fire oneshots anyway. Also, hope the notification email didn't give you a heart attack erhofndks.

R&R please and thanks.

-Eien