Finding Firelight (ch.5)
pairings: nalu – mentions of albis, gajevy, gruvia words this chapter: ~5000 tagging: @natsusluce @siriusly-random (Thanks, Mary, for the beta work! It wouldn’t be the same without you! ♥) read on FF and ao3.
summary: Lucy Heartfilia has a lot of reasons for attending summer camp, but getting spooked by campfire stories and falling in love with her best friend isn’t one of them. modern summer camp au.
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Five
A bug crept up her arm, tickling her skin.
She swatted at it with a sleepy mumble and turned her head deeper into the pillow, but her fingers met warm sand instead and her brow furrowed. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. She was curled up in a ball, face covered with sand and her back exposed to the sun.
What the hell? What was she doing outside?
Oh.
Oh.
Lucy squealed, flailing her arm long enough for the sensation of the bug to disappear before collapsing back onto the sand, a puff of air escaping her dry lips. Her hair tangled across her face where the golden strands escaped the messy remains of her ponytail and she wrinkled her nose every time the cool breeze played with it. Her body felt tingly: the beginnings of a sun burn building on her previously exposed back, a pounding headache behind her sore eyes, and a lingering ache in her heart.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she had hoped that the pain would’ve been gone by now. Crying and napping had always been her cure to this feeling, but… it did nothing this time. She just felt tired and cranky, but worst of all, she felt uncomfortable. The sand was in places it had no business being, really, and she flushed a little as she wiggled her bra, trying to remove it to no avail. With a huff, she gave up and dropped her hand. Removing the sand from her clothes was as fruitless of an effort as stopping the traitorous tears from welling up again.
A year should have been long enough to push away her sadness, to bring acceptance, but she had only succeeded in letting it fester like an open wound.
But no more.
No more crying, no more tears. Lucy had to accept the truth: whoever her father used to be faded a long time ago. No amount of thinking, hoping, praying, whatever, would change that.
It was easier to think about shutting off the part of her that still believed than it was to actually do it though. Bitterly, she swiped her hair behind her ears and scrubbed her face with her palms.
Stupid, Lucy, stupid.
“Hey.”
Lucy stiffened at the familiar voice, moving her hands to hide her face rather than clean it. She really hoped he hadn’t seen the hand in her shirt, but more than that, she hoped he didn’t notice the redness to her face, clear evidence of her own weakness.
The sand crunched beneath his feet as he took steady steps towards her. He avoided kicking dirt into her face and that was proof enough that he had seen – or heard – her. Any other time, he would have laughed or tackled her into the water as his usual greeting, but this slow progression towards her felt was a walk someone would make towards a friend’s sick bed.
She shifted her face away from him, pressing her fingers into her eyes as though it would pluck away her own thoughts in the process. Warm, painful tears coated her fingers instead and she pressed harder, trying to force them back. Show no weakness, Lucy, her father had said. Conceal and don’t feel. let out a shallow breath, the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe deeply.
She felt him settle on the ground beside her and she tensed, waiting for his touch, unsure of whether the part of her that craved it was stronger than the part that didn’t. A long moment passed, her sniffles and the gentle swell of the lake’s current brushing against the shore providing a lullaby. He did nothing, just sat there. She peeked at him, her face splotchy and red, a distant part of her embarrassed, but the rest sluggishly becoming numb to all else as the seconds passed.
His gaze was on the lake, the sun glittering off the water. Natsu, proving capable of reading the lines of tension in her body, kept his hands to himself, clenched around the lapels of a green backpack that rested in his lap.
“You look sunburnt,” he said suddenly, tilting his head over at her. Stubbornly, she jerked her gaze away, but not without noticing the determined narrowing of his eyes. She imagined that was similar to the look when someone challenged him and he planned on winning, but -- she peeked at him, his eyes were on her still, scrutinizing the sunburn on her left cheek – softer, somehow. Strange. She blinked slowly when he spoke again. “You didn’t bring anything, right?”
From the depths of his backpack, he produced a full water bottle. “Here, I brought you one,” he held it out to her expectantly. When she did nothing except stare at him, he sighed, rattling it. “C’mon, Luce, I’m not going to drag you back to camp if you drink this. We can stay out here all day if you want, but at least drink something. Gonna be no fun for the rest of the camp if you get carted off for dehydration, and you’ve already been out here a few hours.”
Hours, huh? At least that answered the question of how long she had been sleeping. Lucy shifted, sitting up and a cascade of sand fell from her clothes and hair, reminding her of how badly her skin itched. And how much sweat clung to her face.
Reluctantly, she accepted the bottle. The blaring heat was stronger than it had been when she arrived and when she uncapped the bottle, she inhaled most of it with her first drink while he watched on critically.
When she finished, she secured the lid and passed it over. His leash on silence broke and he promptly burst into laughter. “Wow, you’re a mess right now,” he cackled, pointing at her hair. She scowled at him, a blush on her cheeks as she took her hair down, pulling her fingers through the sand-caked strands. He stopped her, fingers pressing gently into her wrist to halt the movement. “Here, wait, you’re not helping it much, you’re not going to do much till you can rinse it out.”
She dropped her hands with an annoyed sigh and he scooted closer, rising up on his knees behind her, his knees bumping into her back. “Hair tie?” He asked, holding out his hand and snapping it onto his wrist when she handed it over. Carefully, he gathered her hair, the pads of his fingers brushing against her cheeks to draw the hair off her face and then pulled it back from her face, wrapping the hair tie around the messy ponytail with skilled fingers.
He finished with one last wrap of the hair tie and settled back on his heels for a response. She adjusted it to be tighter and then smiled tentatively. His satisfied grin almost made her laugh, but she couldn’t find enough amusement. “Wendy has long hair like you. Longer, actually. Whenever we go to the beach, she forgets to do her hair till she’s already dunked in the water.”
She nodded slowly, recalling a girl named Wendy who was as close to him as a little sister without actually being related to him.
“I could have done that myself,” she grumbled, trying not to look at him.
“I know, but friends help friends, right?”
She shrugged, unable to think of an argument and unsure why she needed one anyway. With a sigh, she dropped her chin to her chest, the breeze on the nap of her neck pleasing. She hadn’t realized how sweltering the sun was till the heaviness of her hair had been swept away. But even though her hair was less of a hot mess, it didn’t change the fact that her face certainly was. She had no desire for him to see the evidence of her breakdown.
Her heart tugged in her chest and she lifted her chin, grimacing. Her fingers rubbed the spot in gentle circles as though it would ease the ache. It didn’t, not in the slightest. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she dropped her chin on them, watching the water without another word.
He sat down beside her again, crossing his legs beneath him as he followed her gaze. There was little on the water to keep her attention, just small ripples and swaying foliage, and she imagined it was worse for him. Natsu was relentless; he climbed up metaphorical and sometimes literal mountains without pause and she wondered how he could stand to sit here with her while doing nothing more than feeling the bits of wind and the blaring sun.
“Why are you here?” Lucy asked, her words a harsh croak. She cleared her throat and continued more gently, “I mean, you don’t have to be, but you are.”
“Don’t you know, Lucy? It’s you.” She didn’t understand and it showed when he blew out a slow breath. Often people accepted his words at face value, not needing or caring to find the reasons, and she waited patiently, too tired to decipher and supply her own reasons for his words. “You’re my friend. To me, that means being someone’s eyes or someone’s ears when they need it. Or just sitting here. Whatever you wanna do.”
She studied him, trying to find a hint of his feelings in his eyes. A patient sincerity shone through them and she let out a little breath, feeling stupid for her doubt.
She leaned her face down, plucking strands of grass from the ground and tying them into knots. It eased her a little, relaxing the turbulent feelings in her enough that she could hold them down and think.
Maybe saying it would make them feel a little less heavy – and if she couldn’t say it to Natsu, then who? She might have only known him in person for seven days, but Lucy had spent an entire year talking to him through letters. If anything, this should be easier, but instead she felt rather exposed as she spoke to the ground.
“When I was younger, I really thought my parents were perfect and I never really considered that they weren’t until recently,” she started slowly, dropping the grass when it grew too knotted and plucking another. “My dad worked a lot even then, but he made time for me whenever he could and my mom filled the gaps when he couldn’t be there. His occasional absence and my mom’s sickness were kind of just facts to me.
“Then my mom—well, we knew it was coming sooner or later. She had been getting sicker and sicker as the months went by and I’m honestly surprised -- and happy, too -- that we had her as long as we did. It was the same illness every time I think, and each time she would get sick a little while longer than before. But then she would recover, even if it was only for a little while and less so each time. It was scary-- to wake up and find her gone one day. After she died, my father just... He wasn’t himself.” Understatement, she thought, chewing on her lip. “I thought it was grief, actually. I read up on anything and everything after she was gone. I just wanted to know what to expect from it. Easier to think about someone else than to think about yourself, you know?”
She tossed a look at him, half-hoping he wouldn’t be paying attention, but oddly relieved to find his attentive gaze on her. Listening, caring. Natsu did those things sometimes, how dumb of her to forget.
“He... distanced himself a lot. It hurt, but he needed to recover -- I needed to recover. I thought maybe the distance would be best. We had dinner once a week after her funeral, but after a while, he just wasn’t home to do it anymore. I saw him in passing, here and there, and it was like seeing somebody else entirely in my father’s body. Somebody who didn’t feel or think or remember anything except work. Sometimes I wonder if he got lost on a plane and they replaced him with a robot that looked the same. How else would he be so different?
“I tried pushing then. I mean, what else could I do? I didn’t want to lose him, too, but it just... wasn’t working! Everything I did, he just... didn’t notice! Didn’t care!” Her voice rose, breaking towards the end and she saw him twitch from the corner of her eyes. “And when I finally got him to look at me, it was like I was... It was like he was seeing a ghost.” Her words dropped to a whisper, her throat tightening.
People had commented on much she looked like Layla her entire childhood, but after her mother was gone, the words had become tinged with sadness. They had a walking mirror of her mother walking around all the time and their pitiful gazes on her and her father had been enough to make Lucy sick.
He didn’t interrupt her, but she wished he would. The crushing weight on her chest returned with an unexpected vengeance. Lucy tried to swallow her tears back – she shouldn’t have any left --- and failed when she felt the first drop trickle down her cheek.
“I really thought that I would come here and something would change. But so far nothing has. It’s just the same situation, but with some distance to pretend it’s normal.” A shuddering breath left her, shoulders trembling from the force and she tried to wipe her face, annoyed with the snot and tears escaping her. A painful truth occurred to her, one that she had known subconsciously, but denied because it was easier to be angry and upset than accept why.
“I want…” Her words were little more than a whisper once more, but they cracked too much for her to finish. She shuddered, trying to choke the words passed the lump in her throat. “I really want my mom and dad back.”
With nothing left to say, Lucy held her head, giving up on holding back her cries. She felt the sand shift around her when he moved, but she didn’t look up or stop, her eyes aching and her head pounding, throat too tight to speak any longer. He pulled her close, settling her between his legs and letting her head rest against his chest. His hand ran up and down her back in large, comforting sweeps, perhaps knowing there was nothing he could say that would help.
She leaned into him, accepting the comfort and cried more.
When the tears they finally stopped, a small weight seemed to have been lifted off her chest. The ache wasn’t gone, nor were the wounds healed, but they were covered and safe till she could confront the source. She cringed at the idea, but through the headache, another epiphany was occurring to her. Subtly didn’t work, hoping and praying didn’t work either. Maybe it was time Lucy just… confronted him. If nothing changed then at least… at least Lucy would know. She sniffled, trying to clear her nose, and lifted her head. Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt though she wasn’t so sure when she had grabbed it.
“Sorry,” she murmured, releasing him and cringing at the sweat that clung to the side of her face, mingling with her tears. It was too hot to be cuddling with someone for comfort like that, even if his presence had made her feel less alone. She pulled away from him a little and his hand fell to the sand beside them wordlessly as she examined her feelings.
She felt… better.
Well, maybe not better, but enough that she didn’t feel as though her eyes would start leaking the next time someone mentioned her family.
Natsu said nothing still and she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes.
His pink hair was ruffled from the wind and there was a sun-kissed tinge to his cheeks, a reminder that both were setting in direct sunlight with little to no protection from the elements. As she moved away from him, he lifted one of his knees up, resting an elbow on one and watched her with a strange glint to his eyes. The strength of it made her uncomfortable; it was too knowing, too sincere, and she didn’t expect that Natsu was capable of the depth they contained.
She swallowed, looking down again, unable to handle the full weight of those eyes.
Another moment passed and she thought, perhaps stupidly given her previous thoughts, that he hadn’t heard anything she said, that it had just been a way of letting her vent, the words going in one ear and out the other. Truthfully, she wasn’t bothered if that was the truth, because now that the words were no longer building in her chest like a dam about to explode. She felt silly for her reaction. Of all her problems, her father’s absence was the biggest – but what of the people who had no parents at all, who had no money at all?
Her worries seemed trivial in light of their suffering.
He held out his hand to her, the sudden movement after such a long silence making her jolt. “C’mon, it’s hot. Let’s go sit in the water.”
“I didn’t bring in any extra clothes,” she replied, baffled by the changing topic. Natsu grinned down at her, grasping her hand between his own and pulling her to the water despite her protests, only pausing to kick off their shoes with his backpack a safe distance away. The sand was soft and warm beneath her bare feet as they made their walk towards the water, little pebbles and twigs jamming her heels. Her toes scrunched when they came in contact with the water, so much colder than the air around them, but they quickly adjusted as she sighed blissfully, relieved for a respite from the heat.
Once they were in to their calves, he dropped down into the water with a splash, uncaring of the state of shorts as he did so and she hesitated only a moment before his carefree smiled landed on her, washing away her worries. He tugged once on her hand and Lucy sighed. She flopped down beside him, a half-hearted grin on her face when the water splashed against him, slopping against his shirt. Her own shorts clung to her, the cold as it settled against the hem of her shirt bringing goosebumps to her skin, but she ignored it, sitting cross-legged beside him.
He still held her hand, thumb tracing circles in her palm, each brush making her heart flutter just a little, unnoticed by them both. He let out a breath, thumb stilling as he watched her from the corner of his eyes. “Did I ever tell you about Igneel?”
She bit her lip. “Your dad? What about him?”
“Yeah, him. When I was younger, he just left one day without a word. I was probably seven, I don’t remember. He dropped me off at Wendy’s house before work like usual, but when time came for him to pick me up like normal, he wasn’t there.
“Grandine – I mean, Wendy’s mom – let me stay with her, we all thought it would only be the night and he would let us know in the morning. Sometimes work kept him busy enough that I didn’t see him for a few days at a time, you know?” He paused, frowning. If anyone understood how much time a parent could put into work, it was Lucy and she figured that was just the few of many fundamental things they had in common. “But morning time came and still nothing. After a few days, even Grandine was worried, she sent me off to school one morning worried and when I came back, most of my things had been moved to her house. I didn’t know what to think, I was too young, I thought he was getting rid of me.”
His voice lowered, a quiet hurt there that made her heart squeeze and she twisted their hands around so that it was her stroking his palm, trying to offer a measure of comfort. He smiled back at her in thanks before he continued.
“I reckon she must have heard something about him. Kept telling me that he would be back someday, that he loved me. All that stuff that a kid wants to hear from his dad, not somebody that wasn’t him. I stayed with them for years.” Natsu laughed; it was a joyful kind, the one that brought a smile to anyone else’s faces if they heard it. “Well, most of the time. I might have run away a few times, thought I could find him all my own. But someone would just drag me back to her house again and she would give me this look, like she could freeze hell with a single glance. Probably could, too! Heh, it was frightening for the first week or so, but then I’d be off again.”
“Wow, it’s like nothing has changed,” she teased, snorting.
Natsu shook his head, a fake pout on his face. “I’m offended that you think that, I would hardly be caught now! Also, you can’t interrupt the story!”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue,” she urged, zipping her lips in compliance. If he could be silent for her story, Lucy could certainly do the same for him, if that’s what he needed from her. She could be his ears as he was hers.
“I only stopped trying two years later, when Grandine sent me off to this camp. It wasn’t as easy to run away, although I snuck into the back of one of the trucks and was halfway to Bosco before they found out I had left – actually, I think that’s why they only let people into camp once a week now, huh, I didn’t think about that, whoops. Anyway, they sent me back. They set Erza on me when I tried the second time. I guess, after that, I just stopped trying to make a break for it. I liked it here, it was fun, reminded me a bit of the time when Igneel was there.”
She hesitated to interrupt him again, but the temptation to know proved too much. “Did… did Igneel come back?” Though his story was interjected with the wisdom and humor he had discovered over the years, Lucy could see the glint in his eyes. The one that didn’t fade when he laughed, the one that came from questions to which there were no answer. She hoped he knew something, anything, rather than live forever with an open wound.
Therefore, she was surprised when a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, he did actually. A few weeks after I met you, he just came in the door one day and scared the shit out of Wendy. She was too young when he left, she didn’t know much about him except a few pictures and he wasn’t aging very well. So I punched him and – “
“You… punched him,” she repeated, startled.
“Well, yeah, he just left for years without saying anything, I wasn’t gonna let that go unsettled,” he explained with a bizarre, offended look on his face as though his reasons were both valid and understandable. She didn’t correct him, merely nodded and lifted her hands in surrender. “I think I punched him again and then he hugged me. Told me that he had some stuff to handle that wasn’t good for a kid to see. Not sure how he avoided getting me taken away, you’d think they keep track of stuff like that at whatever adoption agency he got me at, but apparently, they didn’t bother with it. I guess they would have if he had taken me along though and then we would have never seen each other again so it worked out for the best, I think.”
“And you’re okay?”
“Well, no, but you can’t change the past,” he said, shaking his head. “I could be mad that he didn’t take me, hate him and leave him as soon as I became old enough, which wouldn’t have been long since I turn eighteen next month. Or I could be happy that he’s here. Not everybody gets a second chance with family and I’m one of the lucky ones who do.”
Lucy tilted her head, examining his face for a sign that he was hiding something from himself. But nothing was there, just sincerity and happiness.
"That was probably the deepest thing you've ever said," she told him seriously, narrowing her eyes.
His face twisted, eyes dropping down to where she held his hand. Their fingers were locked around the others. "Don't be weird, I have feelings too, just because I don't talk about them as much doesn't mean they aren't there," he scoffed, looking away with a dusting of pink across his cheeks. "I just think it's a lot of work to talk about them and then someone is gonna mess up and say the wrong thing. I don't wanna be punched because I used the wrong word for what I'm trying to say."
Her stomach twisted. Natsu listened to her complain about her history without comment or discomfort, wordlessly comforting her because he knew it was what she needed, but Lucy was starting to realize that she knew very little about Natsu and his own story. Their letters had never crossed that path; they were friends reaching across a vast distance, afraid to say too much in case it was the final word.
"You're right," she admitted, chewing on her lip nervously. "I mean about having feelings because of course you do. I guess I forgot sometimes -- because you're so unflinching, because you're so... Natsu -- that you have them as much as the rest of us and you just handle them differently."
An uncomfortable silence came over them. Then-- "Don't have issues explaining feelings with your big fancy words, huh?" He joked, leaning back on his free hand. She let out a breath, relieved to be stepping over her awkward stumble.
"My vocabulary is very limited when it comes to putting feelings into words, maybe if I was describing someone else's thoughts and feelings it would be easier, but even then, I struggle with putting emotions into stories," she said with a pout. "I guess big fancy words aren't useful with emotions either. A million and more possible ways of saying something and I haven't got a clue."
He side-eyed her, puzzled. "Think that's part of the million then."
Lucy shook her head. "If I want to be a writer, I need to do more than that though. How can I expect people to cry at my writing if I can't convey how the main character is wallowing in existential angst without blatantly saying it?"
"Well, I'm not sure what existential angst is, but you'll get the hang of it?" He asked, tilting his head. "What's your story even about? I thought it was about a girl realizing she had magic?"
"Existential angst is, like, someone realizing the crushing weight of responsibility and human freedom and their repercussions of one's own actions. In this case, one of my side characters -- a king -- has just realized that his persecution of wizards over the last ten years has lead to the horrible destruction of thousands of people and that it has spread around the world. So when he tries to change things, he finds that he's done too much damage and it will take years to recover. Where I left off, the king is realizing the error of his actions while the main character is questioning whether anybody can make it right if even the king can't."
Lucy stopped to catch her breath, blushing when she realized that she had been waving their joined hands around in her exuberance. She cleared her throat, face red as she studiously ignored the dumbfounded look on his face and finished with a lame, "Umm, anyway, that's what existential angst is. Kind of."
Her words had barely finished before he burst. "The hell kind of story are you writing? What happened to the girl turning into a doll and needing to get advice from a drunk fairy on how to turn back to normal? What happened to the dragon? You can't just leave it like that!"
"Well, that was just the beginning of the story," she explained slowly, scratching her cheek. "The dragon is there, he just can't help with this particular battle. It's something the main character has to confront on her own, you know?”
"Nobody should have to confront things alone," he said fiercely.
"Sometimes you have to though," she pointed out, shaking her head. "It's like taking your friend with you for a job interview, it just doesn't work."
"It doesn't sound like she's going to get a job so that means she can take a friend along with her. She should know that her friend is going to be there for her when it's all done. Wouldn't she do the same for her friend if she were in his boots? That's what friends are for!"
"You're very passionate about this."
Natsu shifted to face her, honesty written across his face that she didn't often see with such intensity to it. "Well, if you were the one in that situation, I would want to be there."
She smiled brightly, her face heating as she squeezed his fingers thankfully. "I would want you there, too. It's a lot nicer to have a friend around when things are bad than it is to face them alone." Lucy thought hard for a moment, unsure about her next words. "Your letters really helped me get through the days, I'm glad that you kept writing even when I didn't end up coming."
"You came eventually though, that's all that matters. We just got a head start on our friendship," he said, laughing. "Probably good too, because it would have been weirder to meet you after only knowing you like two weeks and having to be your friend."
"We were practically friends from the moment we met," she said, rolling her eyes.
Grinning, he nudged her side with his elbow. "Even though your dog ate one of my letters two weeks after I met you."
"I'm not going to be faulted for that when you're the one who stuck a package of ketchup in there because you wanted to find out if people were monitoring your mail," she scolded, flicking him lightly. "I've never seen a more baffled look on Virgo's face than the day she found Plue on the kitchen table, chewing on one of my letters."
"You were complaining that she was a robot."
The water splashed against his side as she lifted her knees, hiding her face from his view. "I was not!"
Natsu sniggered once, then cleared his throat and adopted a high-pitched, lilted impersonation of her voice that made her scowl from the inaccuracy. "'I thought my father could be expressionless, but the new maid my mother hired hasn't once flinched at anything. I almost considered pulling one of your pranks to see if she would react, but mom said no.' You seemed afraid of getting in trouble so I handled it for you."
She tilted her head as he spoke and then grew quite still the more he spoke. "How... how did you remember all of that?"
"I told you, I remember everything you write, especially the parts that made me laugh. I even remember the time you tried to make pasta for your dad and nearly burnt your own eyebrows off," he scoffed. "Although I remember that more because you failed at pasta with sauce. It's the easiest food to make!"
"Sorry we're not all future chefs," she retorted, recalling the memory as he said it. It had been only a few months since her mother died and it was her first attempt at breaching the chasm between her and her father -- it was also the only one to end in such a disaster, though she wouldn't technically call it a failure considering it was the only plan that worked. He might have been scolding her for a good half an hour about kitchen safety, but at least he was talking to her rather than sending Virgo to punish her.
"I wouldn't even need to be chef to know how to make pasta, weirdo."
"Guess you'll be in charge of food from now on then," she teased, snorting when he nodded seriously.
They fell into a silence, but rather than the aching one that demanded words and tears, it was a comfortable quiet. The ache of the morning seemed faraway though the memory of it lingered in her puffy eyes and sun-burnt face.
She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. He stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact, but relaxed into it after a second of contemplation, resting his head on hers and slinging an arm around her gently. Water dripping down against her side, making her shirt clinging to her skin, but she ignored it, inching closer to him. "Thanks, Natsu," she muttered and received a warm squeeze in response.