sometimes i look in her eyes
and that's where i find a glimpse of us

"YOU'RE..." To say Amethyst was shocked would be an understatement. Something in her chest cracked, and it tasted like fear, or maybe it was desperation, she didn't know. Couldn't tell. It felt like horror, and then, as it flowed through every vein and artery, reaching to her heart, it felt like warmth. It reached the walls around her broken shell, poked and prodded, tentative and curious.

"Your soulmates? Guess so." A bright, toothy grin spread across a blond's face. "Who'd have thought we'd be mated to the infamous Purple Butterfly of Fiore, right, Rogue?" He nudged the shoulder of the boy beside him.

Rogue, himself, did not answer. He couldn't. Wouldn't even dream to think of opening his mouth. His eyes remained fixated on this girl in front of him. The pale skin, the jewelled purple eyes, her short black hair, and shadows. Purely shadows. There was something in the air around her that he didn't understand. Tendrils of darkness followed her, and in their wake, Rogue could see millions. Their forms shifted as the sun did, manifesting into people he did not know, coming and going as quick as the speed of light. Space was reduced to silence in her vicinity, a sharp breath, an answered plea.

Neither missed the beat when her eyes narrowed. "I already have a soulmate."

"Oh? Ain't that interesting." Sting threw an arm around Amethyst's shoulders, carefree and nonchalant with his touch. "Well, we don't mind sharing. You see, Rogue and I are soulmates, too. Sharing's caring, after all. Are they with ya?" He looked around the station, searching for anything that would raise a familiar reaction in his nerves. "I don't remember anyone else comin' with us."

"No," she replied. "He's too young."

Sting pulled away with a grave look. "You're not a paedophile, are ya? I gotta know before we even think of taking this further."

Amethyst brushed his arm off her shoulder. "No, I'm not. He's a year younger than me."

That action had interest rising in Sting's soul. Oh, he loved it when people played hard to get. It only drove his instincts of chase through the roof. Of a hunt promising a great and undoubtedly delicious reward.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen."

There was an audible sigh of relief resounding from the blond. "Oh, thank goodness. I was gonna shit my pants if you were twelve."

"Do I look twelve to you?" Amethyst deadpanned. The sound of footsteps echoed around them, people moving in and out of the station like insignificant flies.

"Well, not really. But you never know! People these days 'ave been using all sorts of charms to make themselves look younger."

She blinked.

"...why would I want to look twelve?"

"Dunno." He shrugged. "It's not my place to judge." A brief silence washed over them.

Amethyst stared at her soulmates— her soulmates. Never in her right mind did she think there would be two more people fated to her. Yet here they were; two dragon slayers, one with a cocky aura and one that seemed awfully familiar to her. Perhaps it was because of his magic. Amethyst could feel the way her shadows lingered close to him, as if they were good friends. They stuck to him like they did her, and it made her wonder just what hold he had over them. Was this person, Rogue she believed his name was, like her? Did he understand the universe in a way most could not? Her heart pulsed. It ached.

These two people were her soulmates. They were hers— it was an irrefutable fact. Amethyst couldn't deny the truth even if she tried. She could feel the bond they shared; it laid deep in her soul, engraved into essence.

So why did it feel like some cruel trick of destiny?

Why couldn't she feel anything from them except happiness and joy for the first time? It was too much— everything felt too much at once. She didn't know how to deal with it all.

In an attempt to satiate her vicious thoughts, Amethyst wondered, "How old are you two?"

"Seventeen," Sting answered. "Don't worry. We're not pedos, either. You're safe with us."

And while that did reassure her, his words resonated deep within her. They made her blood run cold, made her breath stop for a moment, made all her thoughts go silent. It left Amethyst with nothing more than an empty void of what she was supposed to do. Her vision blurred, but before it could engulf her entirely, the girl in question froze—

A bright grin was flashed her way, filled with teeth and sharp with fangs. "You're safe with us, Amethyst!"

"We'll always protect you!"

—and her face fell. Sting and Rogue noticed the instant change. They saw how she blanked out for a second, her eyes drifting to the side and looking towards the big blue sky, or maybe she was looking at the sea swaying idly behind them? They didn't know. But it roused a fleeting feeling of worry inside them. They stepped forward instinctively, just an inch. Just a centimetre. Just to get close. Just to make sure they were ready to catch her if anything stirred up and caused her knees to buckle and her resolve to crumble.

Sting waved a hand over her face.

"You good?" he questioned, concern lining his brows. It plastered itself against his irises.

"Yeah." She collected herself. "I'm fine." The memories of her past were moved to the back of her mind, far from her reach. Amethyst wouldn't dare to touch them, not now, not when something metaphorical was cutting deep into her skin, a small piece of shrapnel that carved its way deeper and deeper with each passing second. It created new wounds and opened old ones, leaving them fresh and stinging with a pain Amethyst hoped to one day be able to forget completely.

( but forgetting the pain would mean forgetting her memories, and she would rather die than forget, as pathetically hypocritical as that was )

"Did you lose someone?" she heard one of her soulmates ask, quiet and slow.

She turned to look at Rogue. "What?"

"You had this look on your face," he told her. "Like you're remembering something. Something that's long been passed."

For a brief moment, Amethyst wondered if it was possible for someone else to have had the same experience as her, and the memories locked tight resurfaced, threatening to overtake her. A bitter taste sat heavily on her tastebuds. Her tongue felt like lead.

Jewelled eyes bore into Rogue. He felt as if this girl in front of him was looking past his tangible body and into the intangibility of his soul. She was searching for something, he recognised. Something dark, twisted and ugly. A part of him wanted to run away and hide himself from the cold gaze, but the other part was curious; a voice in the back of his mind whispered that she would find his vulnerabilities and cup them in her hands. Whether she would cradle it gently like the finest jewels or let it fall to the ground like dead leaves on a winter's day, Rogue didn't know. But he hoped desperately for the former. She was his soulmate, after all. Fate paired them together for a reason.

Her lips parted.

They heard her breathe softly.

"Something like that, I guess," she said.

She looked away from them after that, and Sting pursed his lips. Curiosity burned inside him. Something about it felt wrong. Wrong in a way he'd never felt before. It was as though there were unsolved, unregistered mysteries to this story they weren't privy to. The feeling only intensified once Amethyst's gaze settled back on them. She seemed reluctant now, even more reluctant than before.

Sting's eyes dropped. They fell onto her collarbones, an expanse of skin and bones, appearing like a butterfly trapped in a cage.

What that cage was, Sting didn't know. But he had an inkling of suspicion it was a cage made by his soulmate's own bloody and torn hands. From there, Sting's vision travelled to the left, curious, ever so curious, and yet, strangely, ever so strangely, filled with a sort of attraction (yes, he was checking her out).

He spotted a familiar insignia, and a smirk crept across his face.

"You're part of Fairy Tail, huh?" There was a mocking lilt in his tone that had Amethyst's spine straightening reflexively.

She narrowed her eyes. "Problem?"

"Not really. Just had me thinking and all." Sting shrugged, eyelids lowering. He stared at her, and Amethyst felt a cold feeling spread the length of her arms. "What could a guild like that possibly offer a mage like you?" A beat. Sting stepped closer to her. "We've heard all about you, you see. About your strength and your abilities. Sabertooth can offer so much more. We–" his body inched nearer, and he towered over her, a husky, unspoken promise in his sugared words–"could offer you so much more."

"A home?"

Sting blinked. "Sorry?"

"Could you offer me a home? A family?" Anger rose through her veins, and Rogue could feel the shadows around them shiver. Shock filled his bones, a surplus of emotions. "Could you save me from nightmares and demons and welcome me with warm arms? Because that's exactly what Fairy Tail did. They're my family. I doubt that's a concept you two are familiar with." She stepped to meet his gaze, unafraid. "I've heard a lot about you two, as well. I've heard all about Sabertooth. About how you value strength over familial bonds. About how you'd rather kick someone out for needing help than actually help them. I've heard all about the guild that puts up a facade of greatness when they, in fact, are so fucking miserable. Because there's no warmth. There's no love. There's just winning. And that must be so fucking lonely. So if you think for one second I'd join Sabertooth, you're dead wrong."

Sting's eyes fell to her lips.

He leant closer.

Amethyst was hit with numerous feelings. Things she didn't understand. Things she didn't want to understand— a burning desire, a flame waiting impatiently to ignite and swallow her whole. Amethyst didn't know what it was, but she felt something. She was afraid, but there was something else she was feeling, too, an unfamiliar yet oddly embracing emotion. A strange mix of excitement and anticipation, mixed with hope and fear. It was terrifying, and Amethyst could feel herself getting dizzy at the thought.

She stepped back.

"Now," she began, her voice surprisingly monotone, "are we going to complete this mission or do I have to do it myself?"

"No," Sting answered. "We'll come with." He sounded breathless. Ruffled by her hostility.

Sting licked his drying lips, and the look on his face was too much for Amethyst to even attempt to process. She felt her shoulders relax marginally, though she still didn't let up on the tension. Spinning on her heels, Amethyst headed straight. They followed her— if their footsteps were anything to go by.

( both were too stunned to speak )

( both were turned on to the max )

( only one found a seed of doubt plant itself into his brain, feeding upon minerals of injustice )

Oh, how Amethyst Fairy was so interesting.

Sting and Rogue unanimously agreed that Fate did them well.

Clearing his throat in an attempt to clear the tension propagating through the air, Sting questioned, "So, what're we meant to be doin'?"

"Did you not look at the briefing the Council sent?"

"Nope!"

Amethyst sighed and looked at Rogue. "Did you?"

He did not meet her gaze. She saw the way his hand moved to rub the back of his neck, a sheepish blush dusting his cheeks. Amethyst concluded, then and there, that the two dragon slayer may look different, may act slightly different, but they were one and the same. Lazy idiots. Absolutely so.

"We're meant to rescue someone that's been taken hostage by a group of thieves," she explained, somewhat resigned. There was something about her voice, her mannerisms, and the way she'd spoken that made it clear to Sting and Rogue that their soulmate didn't particularly like their current situation. But she hadn't had much choice. After all, if she didn't do this job, her guild would suffer economic setbacks, and Amethyst swore she would never allow that to happen. Not if she could do anything about it.

Sting hummed, "Sounds easy enough."

They walked through the station. People seemed to subconsciously make way for them, parting like the red sea. "We'll head to the town that commissioned the request first and then plan from there." Amethyst glanced back. "That okay with you two?

Rogue nodded. "Yeah."

A soft hum left her throat. There was a blow of a whistle and it came from the train parked right out front of the station. Sting and Rogue seemed to remember where they were, senses broadening to welcome back the world. It seemed, when they had first set eyes upon Amethyst, everything faded to a dull, insignificant thing. Their eyes shifted to the vehicle, and they instantly blanched.

"Are we going on there?"

"Yeah. How else will we get to the town?"

They grimaced. She realised.

Simple.

"You both have motion sickness, don't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"My soulm–" she paused. Swallowed the grief creeping up her throat. "I just do."

No more words were needed. Sting and Rogue stepped onto the train, concealing their nauseated breathing. The three soulmates entered an empty compartment.

Amethyst sat near the window, Rogue on her right. Sting sat opposite her.

The first lurch of the train had the dragon slayers' hands rushing to cover their mouths. Their faces turned comically green—

A little girl giggled, "Why does his face look like that?"

"Natsu-san gets sick on moving things." A hand rested atop her head, nimble fingers threading through her hair.

"Like the train?"

The young dragon slayer smiled. "Mhm."

"But how come he's not sick with Happy?"

"I'm not a moving thing!" protested a blue-coloured cat, his voice muffled by a fish embedded in his fangs.

"Yeah! Don't bully Hap– bleh."

A blonde screeched, "Don't vomit here!"

—and Amethyst felt her hand move before the action registered in her brain. She placed it against Rogue's head, gently urging him to lower his body. "Lay on my lap," she told him. "It helps." She spoke with a sense of experience. Rogue caught onto it.

Still, he did not mention it. Not when he could feel his breakfast threatening to spill out his throat. The shame could kill him.

Rogue shuffled further on the seat and laid his head on Amethyst's lap. Immediately, a sense of serenity washed over him. It was a fleeting thing, lasting only a few seconds, but it provided Rogue with a sort of solace that came with the slow tides of the ocean.

He curled into her.

Idly, he wished Frosch was here. Sting and Rogue had agreed to leave their partners in Yukino's care while on this mission. They didn't want to risk anything.

"Do you need help, Sting?" he heard Amethyst ask the third of their bond.

"N-No."

They all knew he was lying.

"Don't be stubborn." She beckoned, "Come." And even Sting was useless against the soft command. He rolled onto the floor, paused, took a breath to prevent his stomach from turning inside out, exhaled, and crawled over. Amethyst's legs parted. Sting took his place between them, resting his head on her thigh.

He felt it, too. Rogue knew it.

Sting's sick facial expressions faltered for just a second. Just one moment. Just for some sort of peace to soothe his senses. The feeling of his soulmates' presence, his new one's warmth— it was enough to placate him.

And when the train lurched forward again, the nausea returned all too quickly, and he swallowed thickly.

Fingers carded through their hair.

They shut their eyes. Rested.

Amethyst looked out the window. The sun stood high in the sky, rising above tall trees and passing houses. It illuminated everything in a warm, yellow glow.

Memories of the past knocked on her walls. She didn't pay them any attention.

Caged between her new soulmates, touching their skin, petting their hair, feeling their warmth, hearing their breaths, she whispered quietly, "Fate truly knows no bounds."