Some mature themes ahead, read with caution.

It was on impulse, that's for sure. When they decided to literally jump ship (as in, onto a ship) and elope within a minute of escape. They didn't give word to their parents, not that they had to legally, and it was their marriage, after all. It was just a new title to their relationship.

So when they returned to the guild, a few days after everyone else, everyone was already in a bit of a panic about their disappearance. Though they'd given word to Esmeralda (after setting them free) that they'd be taking a separate train, it left everyone a little worried.

And their explanation didn't soothe the families all too much.

They each had to take a moment to explain what they'd done to their respective parents independently. So Sylvie went to Gray and Juvia, and tried her best to explain why they did what they did. She told them she was happy, and though she sees and understands their pain from her actions, she didn't regret them.

With that, her parents easily forgave her, but the fact that Gideon's wedding was yet to come did help with this decision.

Laurie's parents were less kind. Levy was, for the most part, heartbroken that she hadn't been able to see her son finally marry. It felt much more like a slap in the face given his repeated avoidances of them. It seemed to be the last nail to the coffin of their relationship.

Though there was no screaming (only loud talking and borderline yelling from his father) or legal disownment, it was safe to say Laurie wouldn't be over at his parent's for a while.

For Laurie, at that moment, that was okay. He had a wife now, and the two of them were sure they could take on the world.

First, they moved in together.

Given the fact that they'd been struggling to evade the law for the past month, the two of them were just about broke. So they moved into Laurie's current apartment. A cramped studio apartment made preferably for one person--and more so, preferably as temporary living.

Of course, they thought it was temporary too, they thought they'd rent out a bigger apartment, or consider purchasing a house together, but then things came up. One being Laurie's work.

Now following the War of Pride's end, the Brotherhood's destruction was simply dreadful on the town, the guild, just about everywhere. Incidentally, the destruction of major and minor buildings was rather helpful to Laurie financially, as he could fix things quick and easy.

"So I found this job," Laurie said at the end of the day, sitting on the bed as he peered through the open bathroom door at Sylvie brushing her teeth, "and it was perfect for me."

"Mhmm?" she said, propping an arm up against the counter as she listened.

"This older woman, she runs an inn here, and she needed someone to fix up the lobby really fast, because the foundation had been wrecked. So I answer the posting real fast--this team is already there and are charging her way over what she'd originally asked on the job. So I'm like--'I'll do it! For not a penny more than what you asked!'" He adjusted his voice to sound more heroic and manly.

Sylvie spit into the sink, then poked her head back into view, "Did you actually do the voice?"

Laurie made a stark expression, "Anyway," he continued, "she asks for me to do it, because I'm cheap, and I get it done in just an hour--because I'm good!"

"You are good."

"Thank you!" he smiled, dropping his hands on his hips, "then she asks if I have a card, so she can call me if she might need me again--I don't have a card, so I just wrote my name and contact info on the back of our grocery list."

"Oh, so that's why you forgot...everything."

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, "but, anyway, after that, all the other local businesses were wondering if I'd head over and fix them up as well!"

"Better start making more grocery lists."

"So I started to set up appointments with them, and I've got a job every day this week!" Laurie's expression fell as he realized he couldn't quite remember all of them, "Crap, I need to buy a planner."

"Laurie!" Sylvie entered the room, crawling onto the bed, "that's amazing! You're getting jobs outside of the guild."

"I know!" He laughed, "It's like I have my own business, you know?"

Sylvie's face twisted, "Why don't you make it your own business?"

"Well," he grew stark, yet again, "I don't know...it's a bit too much for the moment. I thought maybe we should focus on just getting enough money to get a better place."

"Oh, that can wait," Sylvie smiled, "I think now's an opportune time to open up for business! With all the construction needed around town--and other places I'm sure--you could make good money doing something you really love!"

"Well, I mean, it might not be the wisest decision financially--"

"Laurie, you're not going to make good money at the guild like you could on your own. I'm still working with them, I don't mind taking jobs on my own from now on. Maybe I could work with Gideon, I'm sure he'd love that."

"Then..." I guess, Laurie wiggled a bit from the excitement, "I'm opening a business!"

"You're opening a business!"

Both threw their arms up in celebration for what would become a financial mistake in immediate time, but a rather nice start to a dream.

Laurie could barely call what he did a "business", more so just a man who did things he already did but now he had business cards. In a way, he was only working to cut out the middle man (who was the guild Fairy Tail) and take jobs on of his own.

Beyond just the concept of marriage, Laurie and Sylvie had to adapt to living in the same (small) space together. Other than in the closet, Sylvie took up as little space as possible, even in bed where she'd squeeze up against him as though he were her only source of warmth.

They usually wake up around the same time, but some weeks, he'd find Sylvie scamping from the kitchen to the bed with a breakfast tray for the both of them. Sylvie would practically be bursting with energy, and in the nights, that was a different story.

The two would lay there, Laurie reading something, Sylvie working on her knitting as she always did in the evening, but on those weeks where there was love and energy to spare in Sylvie's little body, she would roll over, lean up close into Laurie's ear and ask, "What are you doing tonight?"

The first time, he answered, "I just thought I'd read...brush my teeth...then," the position Sylvie's hand took on his body helped him realize what exactly she was talking about, and it was all fun from there.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"You."

Laurie couldn't believe there was another set of honeymooners that could be this passionate, and this consistent. Every night for a week, not including when Sylvie might ask while the two were eating lunch, "What are you doing right now?"

When he went about his day, outside the bed, of course, Laurie was at first giddy as a child. He had a skip in his step, but wouldn't say why. Of course, knowing about the newlyweds, everyone in the guild knew what was up.

Laurie was getting some. But maybe, after day four, it was harder for Laurie to keep up with Sylvie, to the point it was just embarrassing. One day he simply couldn't perform at all, that was a sad day for Laurie and Sylvie alike.

So when day eight rolled around, Sylvie rolled over, smiled, and asked, "What are you doing tonight?"

Laurie made a face, holding his book tightly as he realized the time had come. However, that night, he was tired. He'd worked really hard all day, and he didn't want to embarrass himself by falling asleep during sex, again.

So, he used the textbook excuse, "I have a headache."

"Oh, that's okay," she said sweetly, brushing her fingers through his hair quickly before settling back to her side of the bed, "I hope you feel better."

Laurie smiled, nodding his head as he went back to his book. He felt relieved that she had given him the night off, though he hated to consider the act of making love as some kind of chore. Flipping the page, he glanced over at Sylvie, and felt his heart sink suddenly.

"And there she was, just...just rubbing one out!"

"Rubbing one out?" Ezzie made a face, "Sylvie?"

"I'm not surprised," Lillian answered with a nod, "I may not know her incredibly well, but I can tell there's this crazy high amount of sexual energy in that woman."

Laurie was, at the moment, at Fairy Hills, replacing a light fixture that happened to be right outside Lillian's apartment. The girls had asked how he was doing, and he suddenly spilled all the details of his marriage's sex life. Luckily, neither Lillian or Ezzie were much for gossip, and Lillian especially was a great listener, thanks to her previous occupation.

"Lillian?" Molly poked her head out of her room, frightening Laurie (as he didn't know she was there) as she proceeded to ask, "What does rub one out mean?"

Laurie made a stark expression, fearing he'd just opened a horrible conversation for Lillian, however, she quickly responded, "It's what we talked about the other day, when someone, in this case, specifically a woman, finds sexual relief by herself. It's just a nicer way of saying it."

"Like flicking the bean," Ezzie added.

"Or DIY Time."

"Buttering your muffin."

"Okay, that's enough, Ezzie."

"Oh! Okay!" Molly said with complete understanding. "Sorry, I was just wondering."

She went right back into the apartment, leaving Laurie in awe of how well that went down. Lillian shrugged, looking up at Laurie on his ladder as she said, "I'm trying to be more open and honest about her puberty questions. It keeps her curiosity at bay, that's for sure."

"Oh yeah, no judgment," Laurie nodded quickly, "I wish I had someone like you when I was young, I learned most of the things I know about sex from a monkey and a pig." There was a pause, and Laurie found the need to say, "That's not a euphemism."

"Well, back to your problem," Lillian sighed, "I think you should try not to be freaked out about it. Personally, I think it's kinda cool that Sylvie was so comfortable with you that she didn't feel anything was wrong with doing that in front of you, but that's just me. But, when it comes to sex, try to look at this way. Your wife isn't a pervert--"

"As far as we know," Ezzie added.

"Sure, sure," Lillian shrugged, "but masturbation is a completely natural thing, I mean all women do it."

Laurie made a face, "All?"

"Guilty," Ezzie shrugged.

"Most women masturbate, more than you think. Your mom probably does--"

"Bah bah bah!" Laurie, despite holding a screwdriver with one hand, was quick to cover his ears, "I don't want to hear that--ever."

"Okay, okay," Lillian gave in, "but try to see it that it's just that your wife has a lot of energy and that's coming out through sex, so she needs that consistent, daily--sometimes three times a day--satisfaction, and she sees that you can't give her that so...well...she's taken it into her own hands."

"Ha," Laurie made a face, turning up to the light fixture as he said, "her own hands, I get it."

"First off, you haven't failed as a husband," Ezzie said rashly, "you're just not enough for your wife."

"Yes--but Sylvie doesn't expect you to be!" Lillian added quickly. She sighed, crossing her arms, "Maybe a good fix would be projecting that energy elsewhere, like into a different feeling or form of stimulus."

"What's better than sex?" Laurie asked, which was a fair question.

Lillian didn't have an exact answer but encouraged Laurie to explore any new strong bursts of energy Sylvie might have. This came surprisingly quickly as he came home and she asked.

"So, how much did you make?"

Laurie almost laughed, "I was at Fairy Hills, they didn't pay me."

Sylvie paused, "They didn't pay you?"

"They never do," Sylvie's face continued to maintain her shocked expression, so Laurie continued, "well, I first just did it as a favor, and then they kept asking me back...but I've never been paid."

It was then when Sylvie brought it to Laurie's attention that they, a newly wedded couple, could not afford to spend hours of the week going around doing favors for the guild, and then immediately dragged Laurie out of the house and to the guildhall.

Promptly, still holding Laurie's arm, she approached Mira behind the counter, who already knew something was about to go down with that intense look in her eyes.

"Hi, Sylvie!" Mira smiled, attempting to be her usual perky self, "Can I help you with something?"

"Can it, Mirajane!" Sylvie released her husband, but not before swinging him forward, "We need to talk to Laxus!"

Laxus, whose office was on the first floor with the door open, could tell something terrible was about to happen. So when his wife soon enough led the newlyweds into his office, and they each took a seat, he didn't quite know what to expect.

Sylvie gave Laurie a look, and meekly the young man perked up and said, "Laxus, I would...I would like to discuss being paid for my services repairing the guild and its other properties." He looked to Sylvie as if checking to see if he said it right.

"Laurie," Laxus sighed, "I understand you're trying to start your own business, but we can't just suddenly treat you like staff. When you're apart of the guild, it's natural to be asked to do some volunteer work every once in a while--"

"Is fifteen to twenty hours a week volunteer work?" Sylvie scoffed, "Laurie is asked sometimes three times a week to go look at or fix something for Fairy Tail, but is never paid for it. Sometimes, Laurie will spend the whole day at Fairy Hills, that's time he could be spending on paid work but he stays here because he cares about the guild and you're taking advantage of that. So offer him payment for his work or you won't be getting any work from him."

Laxus was almost amused by the rather intense case Sylvie made for her husband. He remembered when her parents first brought her to the guild, little baby Sylvie, he knew she was a force to be reckoned with, so he decided to play with fire (more ice and water, in this case).

He stood up, and he placed each large hand flatly against his "You think I give a payroll to any pansy who brings his wife in to shake me down?"

Sylvie took the bait, and what followed was an argument so intense, that Laurie feared if he let go of his chair he might fly right off the floor. Watching his wife defend him as though she were keeping him from getting the chair made him think back to Lillian. Perhaps this was her funneling her energy elsewhere. Which was a shame, because Laurie couldn't help but feel deeply attracted to the fury-filled woman. Perhaps it was because the attack wasn't directed at him, then it would be a different story.

Twenty minutes passed, and Sylvie and Laurie emerged from Laxus' office, having made a deal to pay Laurie for his services from that day on, not including his work that day at Fairy Hills. The price was discounted, another think Sylvie let them chip off for the deal as a whole, but it was clear that there was only one real winner that day.

When Mira went to the office to check on Laxus, her first question was, "Why is everything wet?" Laxus would never answer the question, and neither would Sylvie or Laurie.

On the way home, the two couldn't help but laugh, Laurie oozing with pride as he went on, "I can't believe you did that, I never imagined I'd ever get paid for that work--"

"That's why you need your amazing, beautiful wife to remind you how much you're worth," she smiled, stopping them to wrap her arms around Laurie, pulling him in. With a smile, they kissed, and as they pulled away, Sylvie smiled. "What are you doing tonight?"

Laurie thought himself lucky because he had a wife who could put out like no other.

In the morning after, Laurie had grown accustomed to his perky wife right there waiting to start the day. As she had been the weeks before, but the bed was empty, and so was the kitchen, leaving only the bathroom with its door closed.

He figured she was just using the restroom, or getting ready, so he continued to lay there, looking up at the ceiling with a bit of smile left over from the night before. He felt excited because things were changing and it was all because of Sylvie.

There, he continued to morning-dream, lulled to sleep by the quiet rain outside, his eyes closing and opening periodically until, suddenly, thunder crackled outside the window. He shot up, feeling the bed itself shake from the sound. He looked at the clock, finding it to be already 9:30, opposed to Sylvie's usual prompt awakening around 7 (that got him up as well, she became his natural alarm clock).

He shot up, realizing that he had scheduled to meet with the owner of an inn down in southern Magnolia about remodeling the dining room around 10:30. He quickly got up, looking around the room to see if Sylvie was still in the bathroom, which all evidence suggested was the case.

Going to the bathroom door, he quietly knocked, calling out, "Sylvie, you still in there?"

He could hear sounds of a kind, but not the usual sounds you'd hear of someone in a restroom. No sink was running, no shower, no toilet, or brushing sounds. So he tried opening the door, which caused a burst of different sounds as Sylvie rushed to stop him.

"Don't come in yet!" Her entire body seemed to press against the door to keep it shut. "I'll be out in a second, but don't come in yet."

"Sylvie," Laurie sighed, "look, there isn't much to hide at this point, if something's wrong, I'd want to know." There was silence, so he continued, "Sylvie, are you sick? Do you need help?"

He heard a sniff, a loud kind, that cut off your breath as you lost your composure. Then Laurie realized that his wife was on the other side of this door crying. He didn't know why, he just knew he had to do something about it.

Laurie began knocking more insistently, "Sylvie, I can hear you--heck--Sylvie it's raining, what's wrong?"

Through great resistance, Sylvie cracked open the door, her eyes red, wet, and glossy. She kept her hands on the door, keeping it only partially open as she said. "I am not feeling well, I'm sorry."

He tried to look past her, but to little prevail, she kept the room and herself on lockdown.

"Sylvie," he sighed, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she answered quickly.

"You've been in there all morning sobbing, something must be the matter--did I do something? Because if I did something you can't just let me guess--"

"You didn't do anything--"

"We can't be one of those couples that's angry at each other because they can't read minds--"

"LAURIE!" This might have been the first time she'd raised her voice at him, and it was genuinely frightening. She took a breath, then let out a slow sigh before speaking again. "Laurie," she repeated, "Laurie, this isn't about you. When I say nothing is wrong, I mean nothing is wrong except the fact that I'm crying. There doesn't have to be a reason, I'm just crying, and I need to be alone."

She tried to close the door, but Laurie grabbed onto the door, stopping her. She was stronger than Laurie, so it was rather difficult to hold it against her, "Sylvie, I can't just sit back and let you cry in our bathroom, let me do something--"

"Laurie," this time, his name sounded like a plea, "I'll be fine, just give me a few more minutes."

He held out a moment longer, but that look in her eyes told him that the best thing he could do was listen to his wife.

There, Laurie sat outside his bathroom, trying not to hear his wife sobbing on the other side of the door. There, he thought himself useless, knowing there was nothing he could do for his wife at that moment to make her feel better. And he thought himself selfish, too, because he couldn't keep thinking about how bad he had to take a leak.

Laurie went to the guild after his meeting, it being sometime in the afternoon. There he saw Sylvie, and he didn't waste a second going up to her.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from the job board and asking, "Are you okay?" He could see in her eyes that she wasn't, but she looked (at the very least) better. Mostly, she just looked worn out.

"Yeah," she answered anyway, mostly just to soothe him, "it's okay. I just got a little overwhelmed." He made a face, and she tugged on his arm, "Look, that's just what happens to me sometimes, it's alright, I already feel better."

Of course, Laurie didn't. He, in a way, felt worse, as his wife had a habit of irrationally crying but had never told him. In the days that followed, he couldn't shake the discomfort.

"I knew she could become depressed," he went on to say when he was alone with Lillian, who had unintentionally become something of a confidant in his marriage, "but I thought that was all because of me--when I left."

"First off," Lillian stood by the counter, watching as Laurie sulked over a drink alone, "I'm just here to pick up my food, and I just asked how you were doing--just like last time. 'Hey Laurie, how's it going?' then suddenly, 'My wife was rubbing one out right beside me!'"

"Well, you asked..."

"Second off," Lillian continued, "I know you don't have a lot of male friends--"

"Ouch."

"But maybe you shouldn't be going off about your wife to other women, just a tip."

"But you're just such a good listener," Laurie whined.

"I'm an escort, of course I am," Lillian grabbed her food, "so if you wanna keep talking, I'm gonna have to start charging you."

She walked off, leaving Laurie alone. Mira stepped over, refilling Laurie's drink as she said, "It's okay, Laurie," she smiled as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, "take it from a married woman, it's impossible to know everything about your spouse going into a marriage. I learned plenty about Laxus after we tied the knot," she made a sour expression, "some I wish I'd known before...but, for whatever reason, I didn't."

"So what do you do?"

"You ask them questions," she shrugged, "like a first date, except instead of asking them their favorite band or movie, you ask them their deepest darkest secrets!"

"Oh...oh no."

"Oh no?" Mira laughed, "What, are you scared you might have to say some of your darkest secrets?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I've got some stories from the Underground I'd be glad if Sylvie never heard--but that's not it." He sighed, crossing his arms, "I just don't want to change things, or for us to realize that...maybe we rushed into things."

"That Laurie," Mira picked up a glass, making a bit of a sad expression, a rarity on her face, "is up to you and Sylvie, I'm afraid."

She walked off, heading to the opposite end of the counter to refill some other loser's glass. He watched her move down, finding himself looking at the person whose glass was being filled. He was surprised to recognize the man, of all people as his father.

Gajeel didn't make a habit of hanging around the guildhall, Lucy always said it was because he was too happy at home. If you invited him out, he'd usually only come if Levy or Pantherlilly were involved somehow (or if he dragged them along too). He only ever came alone if he was finding work, never if he was just sitting to have a drink.

So, this was rare, real rare, and real awkward for Laurie who hadn't even spoken with his father since he'd first been married.

To his surprise, when Mira was done filling his drink, Gajeel looked up at him, and probably wore the same expression Laurie did. He grabbed his drink, and slowly made his way over towards Laurie.

When he finally arrived, as he was walking quite slowly, he didn't say anything and neither did Laurie. They were both waiting for the other to say something. Not "I'm sorry" or "I've missed you" as neither words suited the Redfox's.

So, after a sort of staring contest, they each, almost simultaneously, slowly let out a painfully stretched out "Heeeeeyyyy....".

"You, uh," Gajeel shrugged his shoulders a bit, gesturing towards the empty stool beside Laurie, "you mind if I--"

"No!" Laurie spat out, shaking his head vigorously, "I don't mind--it's all yours. Go ahead!" Laurie suddenly found himself talking a bit too much.

Gajeel took the seat beside Laurie, and for a moment, he just drank, as did Laurie. He found himself awkwardly mimicking the actions of his father, how he put his arm on the counter, how he held his glass, but then he wondered if he just did that already, perhaps they shared many of the same mannerisms.

"So," he said gruffly, which is to say he said in his normal voice which just happened to be gruff, "how's Sylvie?"

"Uh, good," he didn't want to get into it, especially since he hadn't spoken to his father in months. "How's mom?"

"Great," he made a face, "I mean, not great, but she's fine--she's your mom."

Sweet as sugar, tough as nails, smart as a whip. Whatever that means.

"Um...speaking of yer mom" Gajeel spoke in his low, gruff voice, weakened by the fact that he was clearly asking something of Laurie. "Yer mom keeps whining about this hole in the wall, I don't know the first thing about fixing things like that, so she told me to ask you for help."

"Oh," Laurie's eyes widened just a bit, "oh, like, help fix the wall?"

"We'd pay you," he said quickly, "in...in dinner, I guess. For you and Sylvie."

Laurie saw this for what it was, the closest thing he could ever get to a peace offering from his father. Dinner in exchange for patching up a wall. It seemed befitting given their relationship. So chalked full liquid courage, he said, "Sure, why not?"

"That was a terrible idea," Laurie sighed, dropping onto the bed beside Sylvie. "I'm such an idiot, that was a stupid, terrible idea--why did I agree to that?!"

"Mhmm," Sylvie nodded along, already in bed and staring at the wall. She made a face, then changed her answer, "I mean, what makes you feel like it was a bad idea."

"I dunno," Laurie sighed, stretching out beside Sylvie in their bed, "I feel sad going to my old house, it's just hard to see my parents sometimes...especially my mom."

"But you love your mom--"

"Yes yes," he sighed, "that hasn't changed, it's just...I feel bad for her. I mean, I don't know how she fell for, well, such a bully as my dad. I mean, just thinking about how they met makes me a little sick to my stomach."

"Mmm, good point," she nodded.

"I worry that maybe she's trapped. I remember, when I was younger, she would always be defending me, saying I could be whatever I wanted, dragon seed or not."

"That's nice."

"I know right," he nodded, making a face, "like, that's the basics of mothering, just accepting your kid as they are."

"Well, I'm a bit sympathetic to your dad," she shrugged, dropping her head onto her pillow as her arm wrapped around it, "I mean, you can't help but have this idea of who you hope your kid will be, or who you hope your kid won't be." Laurie made a face and Sylvie smacked his arm, "Well, what if our future kid was really into sports or something--or was like Liddan?"

"Our future son has a secret sewing hobby?"

"Nashi, then," Sylvie continued.

"Ooo," each scrunched up their faces, and Laurie shook his head saying, "no, I wouldn't want that."

"I know!" Sylvie raised her voice, barely, "I mean, we want to pretend like we'd be happy with whatever our kids were like, but that's not true. I don't want my kid to be like Nashi--"

"I don't want our kid to have a secret sewing hobby," Sylvie, who sewed herself, made a face, "I mean, just trying to keep it a secret, like Liddan does. I mean, we all know he does it, but he's so ashamed, if our kid is gonna sew, let him be proud of it." Sylvie smiled, then stopped after a moment. Her expression was a rather melancholy one, so Laurie, again, asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"It's fine, I'm just tired," Sylvie sighed, clearly a bit annoyed after he'd asked her the fifth time that day.

"It's not Liddan is it--"

"No, it's not Liddan," she said flatly, "but please, do me a favor and don't remind me of him."

"If you don't tell me what's wrong I can't do something--"

"Laurie, I swear, if you ask me again, I'm making you sleep in the tub."

Sylvie had never made a habit of snapping at Laurie. Not while they were friends, or when they were dating, so he wasn't sure how to react other than saying, "Sorry."

"It's fine," she said, rather sincerely. There was a long moment of silence, and then Sylvie asked, "Are you going to be okay, going to your parents?"

"Yeah," he nodded slightly, "as long as you're there, I'll be fine."

The week came to an end, and it was suddenly the day Laurie promised to visit his parents. He wasn't excited, and dreaded it all day while working. That aside, by the time work had ended, he found himself running quite a bit late.

He did his best to run home, but with his leg, it was more of a fast and panicked limp, and his knee hurt like the dickens. Before long, it started to rain, and he was holding his bag over his head to keep the rain off of him. It was an unpleasant rush home, heading into an even more unpleasant evening.

"Sylvie," he came into the room, spinning just a bit to shut the door, then seeing the shape of his wife on the bed, to which he'd pat it violently to shake her awake. "Sylvie, Sylvie, Sylvie, baby, get dressed because I am late, I need a shower, I need to pee, and we're supposed to meet my parents in twenty minutes!"

He began pulling his shirt off, unbuckling his pants as he stripped in front of Sylvie, now feeling more confident in the nude while in Sylvie's presence.

Stepping into the bathroom, he turned on the shower as he slid off his boxers. He glanced through the door, seeing her there on the bed with an empty look in her eyes. She looked as though she'd been there all day. "Sylvie, if you need to, we can share the shower."

"I can't," she said suddenly, her voice weak and quiet. "I can't do it."

Laurie, for the first time since he'd come into the apartment, stopped moving, and panicking, then looked at his wife.

Sliding on his robe, he left the bathroom with the shower running, kneeling down to see what was the matter.

"Laurie," she said in a soft voice, "I can't go."

"What's wrong," he touched her face, pushing her hair out of her face, "are you sick?"

"I just can't go," she turned her head away, covering her face with the blankets, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he knelt down, getting to her level. "Look Sylvie, I know it's hard right now, but I really need you there--"

"I tried going to the guild today," she covered her face with her hands, "I just felt like I was suffocating, I just couldn't do it--"

"It's okay," he said again, "Sylvie, I know you can do this, I mean, come on," he smiled, brushing her hair to the side, "where's my happy wife at? The one who's bursting up the walls with energy, I wanna take her out tonight."

This struck something Sylvie, and she lifted her head up, looked Laurie right in the eye and said with a shaky voice, "I am your wife." She scowled, seeing a kind of pain in her eyes he hadn't seen since he was young. "I am your wife right now, when I am weak, and I am weeping, when I can't leave my own home let alone my bed--I am your wife!"

"Sylvie--" he spoke quickly, "I didn't mean it that way--"

"You don't get to pick and choose which part of me you want, I can't do that Laurie--"

"Sylvie!" He had to shout over her, which is something he never imagined doing, "I'm not asking you to do any of that--but I can't do anything until you just tell me what you want!"

"But I don't want you to do anything!" Sylvie let out with a deep breath, "I want this to be my problem, something you don't have to think about or blame yourself for, I want it to be my pain, not yours."

No one said anything after that, because Laurie didn't know what that meant exactly. It could mean that Sylvie didn't want to share the burden with Laurie, or it could be she just didn't want to share with Laurie.

He wanted to say something smart, kind, and loving, but all he could say was, "Sylvie..."

It didn't seem to be the right answer, and she blew past him, rushing into the bathroom with the shut and locked behind her. There, Laurie was again alone, his wife stuck in the bathroom, crying hysterically. Walking towards the door, Laurie placed his hand against the wood and spoke softly.

"Sylvie..."

"What?"

He paused, sighing as he said it, his head against the door in shame, "I still really need to use the bathroom."

Gajeel was the one to answer the door because Levy found herself too nervous. He was too, but he wouldn't admit it. On his walk to the door, he was trying to straighten out his shirt, though he had made an effort to dress down so Laurie didn't consider himself special by any sorts. The amount of thought Gajeel had put into the visit was rather concerning, but understandable.

When he opened the door, he let out a breath. There stood Laurie, as tall as him, skinnier (that's for sure) but alone.

He looked at Laurie with a bit of a scowl, "Where's Sylvie?"

Laurie didn't make so harsh an expression, not wanting to reveal too much of his wife's condition. "She's not feeling well," he said, which was true, "so, it's just me."

"Laurie!" His mother came running to the door from the kitchen, wrapping her arms around her now much taller son.

"Hey mom," he smiled, patting her on the back in exchange for the hug. She released her hold, but was quick to drag Laurie inside, "it's good to be here."

Gajeel shut the door behind him as Levy led Laurie straight to the hole they'd used to lure him over.

"So, as you can see," Levy began, "it goes straight through the drywall, and you know your dad can't fix anything without just covering it with a metal plate," she leaned over and whispered, "if you can call that fixed."

"Har har," Gajeel snarled, patting Levy's back, "don't you have something to burn in the kitchen?"

"Oh--my lasagna--be right back--oh! I'll bring tea while I'm at it, just go ahead and do what you need to do, Laurie."

"Thanks, mom," he nodded, watching her scurry off to the kitchen as Gajeel hung around awkwardly.

"So," he said gruffly, watching Laurie bend down to dig into the toolbox he'd brought, "is Sylvie sick?"

"Uh, yeah," he answered, "just under the weather, nothing serious."

"So," he seemed to start many of his sentences this way, "she isn't ditching just because--"

"Hey dad," Laurie intervened, sliding his tool under his arm, "can you put your hand right here?"

"What?" Laurie grabbed his father's hand, lifting it to the hole.

"No, no, ball it up." Gajeel hesitantly did so, looking Laurie up and down to see just what he was doing, he understood as Laurie slid his balled fist right into the hole, nodding to himself as he said, "Yup, that explains it--"

"Oi!" Gajeel yanked his hand back, shaking his hand out of a fist as Laurie chuckled. "That's not funny."

"If it's not funny, then what is it?" Laurie shrugged, yanking his tool out from under his arm to continue his work. "You used to do that sort of thing when I was a kid, and I just have to laugh at it now if I want to get over it."

"Laugh at it?" Gajeel crossed his arms, "Laugh at what exactly?"

"Like that time you threw meat across the room."

There was a pause, and the two men looked at one another, just waiting. Gajeel, finally, cracked a smile. "Yeah, what was it, a flank steak?"

"Yeah," Laurie smiled, "and you'd already begun marinating it, I think you were about to put it on the stove, then I told you I didn't want to..."

Laurie paused, and there was a brief moment of silence, but Gajeel, with a smirk, picked it right back up, "when I threw it, it stuck to the window," he nodded his head to the window opening up the front of the house, "there was a little piece of garlic stuck there for weeks, and in the right light, you can still see the imprint."

Laurie laughed, "Really?"

"Come over here around three and you'll see it."

Laurie nodded, his lips together. "I might take you up on that offer."

"How's the hole," Levy came in with a glass of tea ready for Laurie, she set it on the dining room table behind him, "dinner should be ready soon, should we wait?"

"Nah, I'll be done in a minute," Laurie shrugged, driving his attention back to the hole and filling it in.

"Alright," Levy pat Gajeel on the shoulder, softly asking, "why don't you go ahead and set the table?"

"I got it," he nodded, heading into the kitchen to leave Laurie and Levy alone.

Laurie listened to the silverware as Gajeel riffled through the drawers. With a nervous expression, Laurie thought of Gajeel's temper, and how Laurie's behavior had been prone to set his father off, sometimes on Levy.

He leaned towards Levy slightly, whispering, "This hole isn't because of me...or my wedding?"

"Oh, well," Levy whispered with a bit of a laugh, "it is sort of because of you, Gajeel just wanted an excuse to ask you over." She laughed, looking over her shoulder to make sure he could hear from the kitchen. "You know your father, him and his pride, he'd never let you know that he misses you."

Gajeel came out of the kitchen, holding silverware haphazardly in his hands, with several placemats under his arm. "Levy, help me for a sec, are these the right placemats? Or do we have special company ones."

Laurie looked over at his father in his domestic crisis, he couldn't help but smile. "Ho ho ho," Laurie chuckled, "I'm special company?"

Gajeel made a face, "Now you're eating off a paper towel, kid."

"No, wait--"

Dinner was dinner, Levy always liked the idea of being a cook, but had never mastered the practice. It was nice having his mom cook for him, though, it felt nostalgic in a way, though there were few memories to go off of.

"You did a good job on the wall," Levy said, "I heard from Mira that you're starting your own business."

"Yeah, it's not much, the only difference between what I do now and what I did is I have my own business cards...I take jobs without Fairy Tail, and I get paid for the work I do at the guild--"

"You weren't paid already!" Gajeel shouted suddenly, "Dang it Laurie! I've told you--haven't I? There's a difference between charity and being a pushover--"

"That's what Sylvie said--" Laurie laughed.

"I mean--what are you working, 15 hours a week? That's too much for just volunteer work!"

"I know, I know dad," Laurie repeated, "that's why I asked him to start paying me, did you miss that part?"

"I think he did, sweety," Levy teased, patting Gajeel's arm, "he just likes to be angry about something."

"I do not," he said, fairly annoyed by the look of it.

"Oh, I remember that one cookout Fairy Tail hosted, and he said it would rain and it didn't," Laurie suddenly added, "and the entire time he was just kept complaining about, oh what had you so pissed off."

"How they cooked steaks but only had plastic utensils to cut them," Levy laughed.

"How am I supposed to cut a steak with a plastic knife--" Gajeel intervened, hold onto his conviction, "especially with those steaks that Gray brought--they were way too tough."

"Oh my gosh," Levy sighed, holding in a laugh.

"It was ten years ago, dad!"

"And I'm still digesting that horrible steak I had to chew with my hands like some kind of animal!"

"You did not have to do that," Levy sighed.

"And animals don't have hands!"

"Well, that's not my problem!" This seemed to be Gajeel's only defense, which only left Laurie and Levy in a fit of laughter from Gajeel's blind rage. He waved it off, smiling himself as he said, "Stop bringing other things up, I'm serious though, about you working at the guild." He shook his head, and Laurie could tell he was being honest when he said, "You work too hard to not get paid."

Laurie, didn't say anything right away. First off, he had food in his mouth, and didn't want to be rude. However, it was a lot to take in, from Gajeel at least.

"Thanks, dad," he said, finally.

"When I see you at work, it makes me glad you never tried being a dragon slayer," he looked away from Laurie, sending his attention back to his food, "you would've sucked at it."

Laurie paused, "Thanks, dad..."

"Sylvie?" Gideon knocked on the door, but found very little response. He jiggled the knob a bit, and found, again, very little response. Terrified his sister could be dead lying face first in a shallow puddle, he quickly ice-made a key to get in. He opened the door, poking his head in violently before anything, then spotted Sylvie in the bed (directly to the left of the door).

She was curled up in the sheets, sitting up while eating a bowl of soup. She was facing the door, waiting for Gideon to say or do something. She didn't say anything, not as Gideon stepped inside, or when he shut the door, or when he sat down at the edge of the bed.

He looked at her, and she gave this hazy stare back, then he sighed, "Hey sis."

She didn't say anything, though she wanted to, she blinked twice and that was its own gesture of welcome.

"I overheard someone going on about how this apartment on your street had a single cloud of rain surrounding it, figured I should come over," he looked back at Sylvie, pulling his bag off and placing it beside him on the bed, "I'm glad I did."

Sylvie sat up, slowly placing her bowl on the nightstand as Gideon continued. "You said you were planning to have dinner with Laurie's parents. That was tonight right?" Sylvie didn't say anything, but she moved back into her cocoon of sheets and blankets, "Is that why he isn't here?"

Finally, she spoke. "He couldn't afford to miss that, not with how tense things are with his dad."

"He should be here, with his wife."

"He's my husband, not my mother," she spoke slowly, and in a low tone, shy of energy, "it isn't his job to babysit me whenever I'm feeling out of it."

"Yeah, out of it," Gideon sighed, "did he do something? Sylvie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she was angry, and did her best to express it, but her voice came out so softly it sounded more like she was about to cry, "you just have to learn that sometimes nothing's wrong, and I'll still end up like this. Because I always end up like this."

"You were like this before because Laurie left you--"

"It wasn't his fault--"

"Then why's it happening, Sylvie!" Gideon's voice rose. He seemed angry, but Sylvie knew it wasn't meant to be directed at her. He took a breath, trying to cool down before saying, "When's it gonna stop raining, Sylvie?"

She squinted, turning her head to look around the room and all the evidence it held of their marriage. Where they ate together, bathed (sometimes) together. The cup that held their toothbrushes, and his and her towels Laurie was embarrassed to use. The bed they shared, how he slept by the wall because he knew Sylvie would be crawling over him three times a night just to get to the bathroom.

"I thought it would stop," she said, "when I got married, I thought that'd be it, but...it won't go away."

"And maybe it won't ever," Gideon finally said, "and it's just another piece of you," he reached into his bag, pulling something out. He reached out, placing what was in his hand onto her knee, just holding it there as he did, "and I'll be here, ready to help you through it."

Sylvie, with hesitation, reached for what Gideon had placed on her knee, allowing him to release it knowing it was safe in her eyes. She held it in her hands, recognizing it as a music lacrima. Gideon soon explained, "I made that for you before I came over. I had been listening to this song, I thought you could listen to it," he paused, "with Laurie."

She cupped the lacrima in her hands, hiding it from the light as it sank into the sheets with her, "Thank you, Gideon." She moved slowly as she placed the lacrima on the nightstand, Gideon watching as her body croaked with each movement.

"What's going on in there," Gideon found himself asking, "what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much," she shrugged, "sometimes I think 'what's wrong with me?' or something like that, but right now, I'm not thinking of much at all."

"Then why are you so sad?"

"I'm not sad," she said somewhat sternly, "this is different from sad. It's completely irrational crying coupled with deep overwhelming swelling of nothingness."

"I think the worst of it is how jarring it all is," Sylvie sighed, "it feels like the car stereo of a couple, three months from divorce, and the entire car ride, they're just switching the volume up and down. Up and down, back and forth, over and over again. That's what it feels like, like my entire personality is being turned up and down all at once. And I hate it, so much."

There was a pause, and Gideon asked, "Have you told Laurie that?" Sylvie didn't say anything, which seemed to be her answer, so Gideon turned his head away, saying, "I bet he'd like to hear that."

Laurie stuck around after dinner, which he didn't expect to. He had to for the sake of the wall, sure, but he sort of wanted to stick around.

A part of that was because he wasn't quite ready to go home to Sylvie and deal with that mess, he'd admit that, but he was sort of glad to be there.

While he finished fixing the wall, trying to make the color match the rest of the paint, so as he stuck by the wall, he could hear music coming from the kitchen, where his parents were cleaning up.

The music faded for a moment, then came right back in with the song "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing". He'd heard the song before, but it had never made an impact on him until he heard his father from the other room.

"Oh no," his father said, "not this song."

"What?" Levy sounded a bit peeved, "I like the song, it's cute."

"But Levy," Gajeel spoke rather seriously, which probably made the whole thing all the more corny, "when I hear this song, I have to dance, I have no choice."

He could hear laughter, and the stumbling footsteps of his parents' attempted dancing. Moving over, he looked through the open archway into the kitchen, watching them hand to hand, moving around the room in this kind of awkward waltz. They danced as if it were their wedding night, their first dance as man and wife. They were lost in each other's arms, and Laurie felt in awe of these two people. How they could love each other this much after so long.

He caught their attention whilst in a dip, and Levy (looking at him upside down) suddenly started laughing. "Gajeel, Laurie's watching," Levy gushed, and Laurie couldn't get over just how young she looked with that smile.

"Well, the kid had to learn about dancing someday," he pulled her up, moving her around haphazardly to the music. "Not my fault he left his dancing partner at home."

His dancing partner, she should be there. Better yet, he should be with her, even if that did mean curled up in bed listening to the rain. But it seemed unfair, he needed this night with his parents, he needed his father, in his awkward way, to tell him how proud he was.

It was something that Laurie didn't want to admit, but from here, at the archway in his parents' kitchen, watching them dance while his wife cried at home, he didn't know where to go from there.

"Mom, dad?" he called out suddenly, and the two stopped their dance to look at him, from the look on his face, they could tell something was wrong. "Can I talk to you about something?"

It might have been the first time Laurie had come to both his parents with a problem, and definitely the first time he told his parents the whole truth. When he got around to the sex part of his story, he could tell by the repeated repositioning in their seats that they weren't very comfortable.

When he finished, his mother said, "Well, thank you for sharing this with us Laurie."

"Could've skipped a few details--"

"Gajeel," Levy hissed.

"Well now I'm just gonna think of that every time I see her!" Levy grabbed onto Gajeel's arm, giving him a look of sorts to get him to shut up.

He finally did, and Levy continued to try and comfort Laurie. "Laurie, this is all clearly difficult for you, marriage is never an easy thing, and the first year be really hard!"

"We fought a lot in our first year," Gajeel explained.

Laurie leaned forward, looking at his feet as he said, "I just wish I could have something like you and dad have."

"Oh Laurie," Levy sighed, "your dad and I are not a perfect couple. I mean, we don't always communicate how we feel to each other, we aren't the best parents--

"Which is why you're so screwed up--" Levy kicked Gajeel in the shin, exhibiting that poor communication they're always talking about, "I mean I screwed you up--I screwed up."

"But all that aside," Levy sighed, continuing on, "we had to do a lot of work to get where we are now. Marriage isn't always a fairy tale, you have to work on it."

"I know," Laurie nodded, "I know--I expected things to be rough sometimes, but I never thought it would be something so..."

"Gross," Gajeel answered for Laurie, thought it wasn't the one he was looking for.

"Gajeel," Levy jabbed at him again, "there is nothing gross about a woman doing that for herself, heck, even I've--"

"Bah bah bah!" Laurie smacked his hands over his ears, "I don't want to know that! I don't want to know that, mom!"

"Gah--sorry Laurie!" Levy covered her mouth, forgetting who she was with for the moment.

Laurie groaned, dropping his hands as he said, "I just don't know if I'm capable of being the person Sylvie needs, she...won't tell me what she needs."

"Then how is it your problem?"

"Gajeel," she hissed for maybe the fifth time that night, "there's nothing wrong with Laurie being concerned about this, whether Sylvie chooses to include him or not."

"Which she doesn't--"

"Well just because she says that doesn't mean she means that!"

Laurie nodded his head, "So common case of the woman saying 'no' when she really means 'yes'--" Laurie was shut up by Levy's sandal being chucked at his face, which he realized quickly he deserved.

"No! That is never the case," Levy said strictly, shaking her other shoe at Laurie, ready to strike. "Maybe she's telling you not to help because she doesn't know how to ask for help. Think about it, if she knew how to stop it, she'd do it herself. Sylvie is a very proactive young girl."

"Yeah, she just..." Gajeel made a sour expression, "takes care of it."

"Would you stop it already," Levy hissed, then turned back to Laurie, "Laurie, you're her husband, her partner, whatever goes wrong, it's important you take it on together."

It sounded easy, Laurie knew it wasn't, but it sounded easy. He went home not long after, and he kept thinking of the word "partners". He stopped around a streetlamp, then took a moment to dig into his pocket. He pulled out the business cards that Sylvie had help him make. She had spent the entire morning stamping a little hammer on the corner of every tiny card. He thought that was the most kind yet meaningless thing anyone had ever done for him, as most of those cards he knew would be used as temporary coasters or tissues.

But the little hammer reminded him of how much he loved Sylvie, because she noticed the tiny things that seemed meaningless, but made things better when they were done.

For the second time that day, Laurie ran home, or did his very best to be faster than his usual walk.

When he arrived at the apartment, he made a race to find his keys and unlock that stupid door that kept him even a second longer away from Sylvie.

"I'm sorry," he said it before the door was fully open, and it definitely caught Sylvie off guard. She almost spilled her soup. She turned to him, still wrapped in her pitiful blanket, staring at him with her wide, blue eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry I just expected you to give me some easy answer to your problem. I'm sorry."

He froze there at the door, somehow afraid to enter any further. Then, she, still holding her bowl of soup, suddenly said, "I'm sorry too."

It came as a surprise when she said it, but Sylvie, with earnest eyes said, "I'm sorry I didn't go to your parent's dinner," she began moving towards Laurie, this kind of anxiety suddenly overwhelming her, "I completely wrote it off, but that was the first time you'd even been alone with them since we got married. You needed me there and I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," he put his hands on her shoulders, settling her down, then took the soup from her hands (in fear she might spill it on their only blanket) then set in down on the kitchen table. "It worked out just fine, and there will be plenty of dinners to come, I'm sure." Sylvie sighed in relief, smiling just a bit. "It's nice to see a bit of a smile."

She continued for a moment, but the smile faded into a sort of frown as she looked down "It's okay," Laurie said again, "you don't have to smile," he pulled her into an embrace, wrapping her up in his arms as her head fell on his chest, "we'll figure it out, someday, but until then, I'll be right here."

The evening soldiered on, and as the two sat in bed together, Sylvie, glanced over at the nightstand, seeing the small, clear lacrima near the edge. She hadn't thought to touch it since Gideon left, but it seemed somehow appropriate now. "Hold on," she said, sitting up from the bed. She grabbed the lacrima as she got up. "Gideon gave me this," she held up the small glass lacrima so Laurie could see it from the bed, "it's a bunch of songs, he thought I might like it."

"Oh, okay," Laurie watched as Sylvie leaned under the bed to pull out their player, placing the small lacrima on it. She placed it there on the floor, and signaled for Laurie to join her there. As he did so, she placed it at the center of the player, the light shooting through the orb and projecting the menu.

She pressed play, and slowly, quite slowly indeed, the music started playing.

https://youtu.be/7ZYgKCbFbWY

They listened, experiencing the song as the instrumental opened the piece.

The beat dropped in suddenly, and they scooted closer beside one another, backs against the bed as they sat on the floor. The light of the lacrima illuminating their bodies.

It had a bizarre sound, and the singer wasn't so great, but the two couldn't stop listening.

As the chorus came in, Sylvie began to nod her head from side to side, the only exhibition of her enjoyment, but there nonetheless.

This is the day

Your life will surely change

This is the day

When things fall into place

Laurie, glancing over at Sylvie, couldn't smile. He wanted to, but he couldn't. So in place of a smile, he inched his hand towards hers, enveloping it with his fingers. As they touched, in what would be the first time that week, she touched back, and he could feel her, in those cold clammy hands.

The song felt like a lie, a lie they knew they were telling, but they just kept listening.

He looked at her, and she gave him a small glance, where she gave something of a smile while the music lulled on. Right then he felt lucky, because she was right there next to him.

Author's Note

Sylvie is basically me off my meds. The more you know.

This was originally published in the Specials book, but was published here so you could get a better insight on the marriage of Sylvie and Laurie. What fun they have.

-Katie the Terrible