i'd rather be a riot than indifferent

11. the places we call home

Pride Camp is here, and Natsu is having some self-confidence issues with his scars. Freed reminisces and meets someone new.

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"Taylor Swift? Seriously?" Gray glanced over at Natsu from the driver's seat of the car and raised an eyebrow at Shake it Off. Natsu grinned back at him, flipping through his phone's playlists.

"Haters gonna hate," he said, turning up the volume and bopping his head along to the song. Freed rolled their eyes from the back seat – they knew that while Gray might put on a show of disliking Natsu's teenage-pop playlists, he actually found it endearing and likely knew all the words.

"You're a dork," Gray sighed, leaning over and kissing Natsu, then tapping the GPS and glancing in the rearview mirror. "Everyone good to go?"

Ryos and Freed nodded sleepily from the backseat, both with bleary eyes and coffees in hand. It was early – not even six yet – but they needed to get out to camp and make sure everything was ready for when the kids showed up in the afternoon.

Natsu gulped down his coffee and sang along to the music as they pulled out of the Pride Centre's parking lot. Freed envied his ability to be a morning person – or sometimes just to be cheerful in general. Ever since the outburst with their parents three months ago, Freed had felt like they had been irritable and on edge. Planning the camp had turned into a challenge, and it had been Natsu who had encouraged Freed through it. Since Natsu was off work due to his injuries, he had spent most of his spare time at the Pride Center with Freed, helping getting everything ready.

As soon as they hit the highway Freed felt themself starting to doze off, with Ryos already snoring and leaning heavily against their shoulder. They drifted in and out of strange dreams – in one, their father was teaching Laxus to play the accordion, and in another, Freed was wandering an empty beach, accompanied only by a dog that looked like Lily but wasn't her.

They woke eventually to hushed voices coming from the front seat. Freed opened one eye to see Gray reach across the console and grab Natsu's hand. Natsu's hand and entire left arm were now marred with twisting pink-and-white scars that made the skin rough and uneven. A large patch on his forearm was deep and darker than the rest – the doctors had told Gray that the skin there had been burned nearly to the bone.

"They're good kids," Gray said as he squeezed Natsu's hand. Natsu looked uncertain, knees pulled up to his chest, hoodie zipper caught between his teeth. "They know better than to bug you about it."

"That's not..." Natsu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm getting used to it, y'know? It's almost worse when they don't ask." Gray hummed sympathetically. "Like, there was this girl at the taco place the other day, and I was wearing a tank top, and she just wouldn't stop staring. If she'd asked I woulda told her what happened, but she just... wouldn't look me in the eyes."

"Would it be easier if Freed said something?" Gray asked, glancing over at Natsu. "I'm sure most of the kids saw the news story." Magnolia had celebrated Natsu as a hero for weeks after his release from the hospital, to the point where he'd started getting uncomfortable at any mention of the incident.

"Maybe? Ugh, I dunno." Natsu sighed, bringing Gray's hand to his lips and kissing it. "I think it's just... it's worse... on my face." He rubbed his upper lip self-consciously. The blackened skin there had peeled away, leaving pinkish marks around the left side of his lips and nose, trailing down his cheek and neck to join the scarring on his shoulder. "I dunno why it's bothering me again, suddenly."

When Natsu had first left the hospital, he'd been self-conscious to the point of not leaving the apartment for two weeks. Sting had been the one to eventually convince Natsu to go out for coffee with him. Over the past three months he'd eventually found his way back to his former boisterous, confident, outgoing self, but now it seemed the fears were reappearing.