He In My Life
by Her Pretty Smile
Synopsis: When I look at you, I get reminded of my past... and about who I am. When I touch you, I get reminded of what's real around me. If you go away... if you leave me... I might never be healed again.
Warning: Unbeta-ed; may contain mistakes or any of the sort. English is my third language, after all. Also, there are some religious themes here.
TRIGGER WARNINGS AHEAD!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail. Hiro Mashima owns it. I also do not own the songs here. They are as follows: 'Here In My Life' by Hillsong, 'If You're Not the One' by Daniel Bedingfield, and 'Empty My Hands' by Tenth Avenue North. You can listen to them while reading the story if you want. :)
[X] Just in case you missed it, this is a NatsuxLucyxGray story.
[X] Trivia: This is actually an original fiction of mine; I just changed the characters.
CHAPTER ONE
[2002]
"You are my freedom
Jesus, You're the reason
I'm kneeling again at Your throne
Where would I be without You
Here in my life, here in my life...?"
Five-year-old Lucy Heartfilia sits on a chair overlooking the wide open window which reveals a stretched, beautifully melancholic landscape consisting of grassy lands, tall mountains, and a setting sun. The soft, childish melodies that come out of her lips are laced with pure sadness and loneliness, like an angel failing to reach out towards heaven.
Her father hears her singing from behind the shut doors. He closes his eyes in anguish as he thinks about the pain that his daughter is going through.
Jude Heartfilia has never been a man who knows how to comfort using words. He knows that he is awkward with others as he is awkward with himself. It agonizes him that he cannot ease his daughter's feelings, to assure her that even if the whole world seems to be crashing down at the moment, he is still by her side, and he will never leave her.
For Pete's sake. She's still too young. She shouldn't even be experiencing any of this. She's supposed to be a normal child who laughs with her friends and plays in the sandbox without any care in the world.
She's supposed to be happy.
She's supposed to be smiling.
She's not supposed to be crying.
A few months ago, he signed her up for the children's choir at a nearby church. The parish priest residing there is a close friend of his; he trusts Lucy in his care, and the former gives a silent agreement to watch over her as if she is his own child.
Jude had realized her talent for singing when she unexpectedly sang at her mother's funeral.
He had cried, then.
And the song she's now singing is the same song she sang before Layla's coffin. His wife's coffin.
"Where would I be without You
Here in my life, here in my life...?"
The song is ending now. He knows it. He had heard it many times before. Whenever her voice fades and sounds as if she is about to cry, that is the exact moment. He had heard it a thousand times before. It also broke his heart a thousand times before.
Now he prepares himself for the wails that are about to come.
• • •
Dinner is the worst time of all.
Ever since she was a toddler, she has always loved vanilla cream pies as a dessert specifically for dinner. She loved the way her mother cooked it, the way the food melted in her mouth in such a delightful manner. She also adored it when it was paired up with a glass of warm milk and a small plate of frosted cupcake.
However, after her mother died, the enthusiasm had gone. Her father still makes it just for her, but when he once asked her if she would prefer something other than the usual cream pie, she had responded with a temper tantrum.
"It's the only memory I have of Mama! Don't take it away from me, you big meanie! No no no no no!"
He never asks her that again.
She does not like the way her father makes it. Where her mother's had that delicious melt, her father's is merely a warm, solid chunk.
She eats it, anyway.
• • •
"Here in my life... Here in my life…"
She finishes her song and looks up to see the priest's worried eyes.
"Lucy…" he says gently, hesitance softening his features.
She tilts her head slightly. "Yes, Father?"
"I am not questioning your song choice, my child, but…" Again, hesitance seems to take him over, yet he continues on. "…is there any other song you wish to sing other than—"
"No," she says immediately, shaking her head vigorously to emphasize her point. "No."
"All right, my child."
The priest watches her walk away and sighs.
The hole in her heart is still gaping open, he thinks, concerned. It may take a lot more time to heal.
Sometimes, he wonders if it ever will.
[2004]
"Hey, what's your name?"
In response, she stands up and brushes dirt off her white dress, all the while turning towards the curious expression of a dark-haired boy about her age.
"I'm Gray," he says after a few moments of silence from her. "I'm new here."
She still doesn't reply, only looking at him with a faintly curious look on her face.
Most people would either be creeped out or giving up on her by now, but he is stubborn. So, in response to her silence, he sits on the grass beside her standing form and rests his cheek on his open palm.
"I ain't leavin' till you talk to me," he mutters. Ever since he stepped foot into the church, none of the other children had bothered to greet him. He knows that all of them come from rich families because the holy sanctuary resides in the middle of the Victorian Subdivision, unlike him who comes from the countryside near the Glacier Mountain, a place where the cold does not leave them.
He finds something reassuring in this girl's presence, though. She carries herself with unmistakable elegance, and her quietness interests him. It's as if there's a compelling kind of maturity to her.
He thinks that he can be comfortable around her than the others.
He sees her blush faintly in embarrassment and knows that she heard him. However, she chooses to keep quiet still and proceeds to sit down as well.
As the moments pass by with the wind blowing strands of their hair, Gray decides to make a conversation.
"Ya know, I've always hated singing," he begins in a low, lazy tone. "I hate the way my voice sounds after I try to let it out of my mouth. I mean, yeah, it sounds okay, but it just doesn't seem right to me. I also hate the fact that the other kids can sing well and I can't. I hate the fact that my mother always praises me after I sing when I just know that I actually sound horrible. She insists, though! She's really dumb, doncha think?"
"Sing for me," she whispers suddenly.
"…Huh?" He looks at her in surprise, not expecting her to talk to him so soon. Not to mention that her request has caught him off guard. "What… did you say?"
"Sing for me," she repeats softly, turning her head to look at him in the eyes. "I'd like to hear you sing."
Her voice is sweetly melancholic, a tantalizing sound to his ears.
He does not question her any further.
"…If you're not the one, then why does my soul feel glad… today?
If you're not the one, then why does my hand fit yours… this way?
If you're not the one, then why does your heart return… my call?
If you are not mine, would I have the strength to stand… at all…?"
Her eyes widen in response to his low, steady, and breathtaking voice. She cannot explain it, really, but there is a sadness in it that is laced with a childish undertone. There is also some sort of simplicity in the way he sings, as if doing it does not exert him any effort at all.
"I'll never know what the future brings
But I know that you're here with me now
We'll make it through
And I hope you are the one I share my life with…
I don't want to run away, but I can't take it, I don't understand
If I'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that I am?"
His voice then turns soft and wistful, like he is trying to reach something which he cannot grasp.
"Is there any way that I can stay… in your arms…?"
Slowly, she exhales the breath she hasn't realized she's been holding and feels her heart racing with some sort of excitement she hasn't felt for a very long time.
"It's bad, isn't it?" he grumbles, not finding it in himself to look at her. There is a pink shade colouring his cheeks, showing that he is a tad embarrassed at his performance. "I just know it. You're an honest girl, I've discovered, so you can tell me what I did wrong so I can—"
"You sounded amazing!" she interrupts, looking bemused at his pessimistic words.
He looks at her incredulously. "Wh—What…? Seriously…?"
She nods happily. "Yes, yes! I've never heard that song before, though…"
She does mean it. His voice is wonderful, even though there are some notes that obviously belong to a budding seven-year-old.
He mumbles under his breath.
She leans towards him closely. "What?"
He seems to be burying his mouth on his arm. "It's 'If You're Not the One' by Daniel Bedingfield. I've always liked it," he says in a muffled voice, sounding completely dumbfounded. Whether it's from when she praised him or the fact that he admired a sad love song which she now likes, she is not sure.
She smiles, all the sadness momentarily gone from her eyes. "You're really good, you know! I promise!"
"But…" he starts, yet his voice seems to drift off.
She stares at him in confusion.
"…I'm tone-deaf."
[2007]
The church has always been Lucy's safe haven ever since she was little. Whenever she feels sad, angry, happy, or confused, she goes up to the top floor where the attic is and sits on the windowsill, looking longingly at the happy families going in and out of the church.
Recently, that same attic is also like home to her and Gray.
Gray is often sleepy nowadays due to his therapies early in the morning and late at night. He's determined to cure his ailment as soon as possible, but as the years pass by, there has still been little progress made. He still does not know the exact real difference between the sounds of a D and an A key on the piano since he is still confused, and neither does he know how the right pitch sounds in enumeration.
He once told her that whenever he sings, he sings based on intuition. He does not focus on the correct chords, instead trying to get the feel of the song in his head.
She thinks that it's an amazing talent.
When she said that to him, though, he had only smiled and patted her head. She understood, however, that he was thanking her. He does not need words to say what he feels; she understands him more than anyone else to be able to know what he means by his actions alone.
In the attic they share, she would always look out the window while singing religious songs which lull him to sleep. He would always curl up like a puppy on the lone bed in the corner, drifting off silently. In a pleasant, soothing manner, they enjoy each other's company, and on rare days where Gray had a full night's sleep, they would talk about anything, even if they are nonsensical.
The days pass by, and now she steps onto the podium of the church after one month of practicing for this moment. She looks at the numerous people in the room who are all looking at her expectantly, and she feels stabs of anxiety in her chest. She holds their gazes for a brief moment though before her eyes come to rest on Gray's onyx ones.
Holding his stare for a while before eventually breaking it, she spots the grand piano a few steps before her and sits on the chair, her fingers expertly hovering over the keys in a sweeping, elegant manner. Beside her, a few feet away, is Loke, a church member who plays the guitar professionally. He sends her a wink, signaling that he's ready. She smiles in response, her nervousness having melted away the moment her eyes met Gray's, and presses the keys, producing a suspenseful, melancholic melody.
"…I've got voices in my head,
And they are so strong
And I'm getting sick of this…
Oh Lord, how long
Will I be haunted… by the fear that I believe
My hands like locks on cages
Of these dreams I can't set free."
Her song is for the church, and she knows it. The church had often given her a semblance of peace inside her mind whenever she felt troubled and weary.
The Lord had saved her many times with His love, and she will always, always be grateful to Him.
Also, He had given her Gray.
Gray, who had become her most wonderful blessing.
"But if I let these dreams die…
If I lay down all my wounded pride
If I let these dreams die,
Will I find that letting go lets me come alive…"
Gray. He has always been an enigmatic person to her. He's always acting cool and doing things he wants to do. He doesn't cower under those who are clearly more powerful than him, and he isn't afraid to speak his mind.
"So empty my hands
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…
Oh empty my hands
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…
With you…
With you…"
She has always been in awe of him. She loves his carefree, kind personality. Though she is often embarrassed by his unusual stripping habits, she does not think any less of him.
She knows that it is a habit that he picked up from his mother.
"These voices speak instead
And what's right is wrong
And I'm giving into them…
Please Lord, how long
Will I be held captive by the lies that I believe
My heart's in constant chaos…
And it keeps me so deceived."
The first time she discovered this habit, she became so light-headed and was clearly on the verge of fainting. Gray had told her later that her face was so red that it closely resembled a tomato. Then, after laughing at her expense and more playful jabs while she kept smacking him, he apologized and explained everything to her.
"But if I let these dreams die…
If I could just lay down my… dark desire
If I let these dreams die
Will I find… you brought me back to life…?"
She had met his mother twice. One time was when Gray invited her over for dinner. Their house was actually not so extremely far away from hers; it only takes a twenty-minute train ride. She had been so nervous back then, but Ur was a pleasant, hospitable woman (despite her few quirks), and she had always made sure that Lucy felt completely at home.
It was then after that same dinner that she witnessed (and she has to admit that it was a bit of a traumatizing experience) mother and son unconsciously and simultaneously taking off their shirts while sitting before the fireplace.
"So empty my hands
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…
Oh, empty my hands
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…"
The other time was when she ran into Ur who was carrying groceries. Lucy had offered to help, but the woman just smiled and waved it off, insisting that she could do it herself since she was still very much young and active (her words).
They then spent the majority of the day chatting about Gray's embarrassing moments (which Lucy used to tease him about later) and other girl stuff.
That day, Lucy had felt like crying. Being with Ur felt like she was spending time with her real mother, one who she still misses very dearly.
So it wasn't any surprise that she broke down along with Gray at Ur's funeral. But what surprised them all was that he took it upon himself to go before his mother's coffin and sing what the latter told him was her favourite song.
It was then at that moment that Lucy realized that she and Gray aren't so different after all.
"`Cause my mind is like a building burning down
I need Your grace to keep me,
To keep me from the ground
And my heart is just a prisoner of war…
A slave to what it wants… and to what I'm fighting for."
Now, as she looks at her best friend, her precious childhood friend whom she made so many unforgettable memories with, she feels completely happy and content.
The scar on her heart that her mother's death had caused is now almost completely healed.
Just because of him.
"So won't you empty my hands…?
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…"
She will never forget her mother. She knows that Layla Heartfilia is always watching over her.
Even now.
The song she's singing is for the church.
For the priest who has taken good care of her and has also watched over her all these years.
For her mother who taught her the meaning of love and friendship.
For her father who still loves her despite her shortcomings and despite her inability to always tell him how much she loves him, too.
For Ur who had regarded her as her second child, as the daughter she never got to have.
And the song is also for Gray… who gave her life meaning.
And that in itself is simply amazing.
"Empty my hands,
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with you…"
She feels so complete now.
"With you…
I need you now…"
And then she is done, and she grins brightly at the clapping audience.
Gray, who is among the beaming crowd, gives her a proud smirk.
"I am glad you are happy now, my child," the kindly priest tells her afterwards, having sensed her bubbling happiness these days.
She nods. "Yes… I am. Thank you, Father."
And this time, she means it.
[2011]
She looks at the mirror with wide eyes, wondering what she should possibly do about her situation.
She sees a fourteen-year-old girl with long blonde hair, large brown eyes, and a defined face curve. She sees panic interlaced with anticipation on her expression, clearly reflecting how nervous she is.
Her thoughts are, currently, practically jumbled in her mind to the point where even she cannot understand them, causing her to pace around her room in circles. She does not know what to do. What do you do on a first date anyway?!
"I know what I'll wear!" she exclaims suddenly, making a beeline for her closet. In a rush, she fumbles through numerous articles of clothing until she finds what she's looking for: a sleeveless white shirt and casual denim shorts.
Grinning proudly, she wears them and marvels at her reflection in the mirror. Since the church doesn't really approve of any revealing or sexy clothing on its grounds and of course even outside the premises, she doesn't wear them. But Mirajane, her friend, had given her this set of clothes for her birthday, and she didn't know on what occasion she should be able to use them. She is glad that the opportunity has presented itself to her today. Sure, she's nervous as hell since it's her first time wearing this sort of fashion, but at the same time, it feels really good, like she's become a bird who's free of its cage.
But then her eyes catch the outside of her window.
It's snowing.
Sulking, she finds a suitable clothing to wear in her closet, but her mind is too muddled and dazed for her to be focused on what she's doing.
When she finally snaps out of her trance, she sees the time on her alarm clock on the bedside table and her jaw loses its attachment to her mouth.
8:45 AM! She's supposed to meet Gray in front of the mall in fifteen minutes!
With a speed she has never used before, she dashes around her room, frantically pulling up a white knee-length skirt and putting on long brown boots. She then adjusts her black blouse before covering it with a brown fur jacket.
Within ten minutes, she is fully dressed and has pulled her hair into a side ponytail with bouncy curls at the end. She has also applied light makeup; a little lip gloss and some powder. She doesn't want to go overboard; she knows that Gray would want her to stay her simple self.
When she's out the door, she immediately begins to run through the heavy crowd. Frequent mist come out of her lips as she gasps and pants due to the cold weather, and her head is still spinning slightly.
In short, she's a nervous wreck.
All her life, she's been holed up in the church singing songs and overlooking the nearby beach. She has friends, of course, but she often prefers to be alone rather than have company by her side.
She has never even gone out once. Ever.
"Lucy!"
She turns around reflexively, and her face breaks into a smile as she runs towards her date.
Gray has always been a handsome guy even when he was a child. He is somewhat of an eye-catch among the girls; his spiky dark hair and magnetic onyx eyes combined often have a tendency to draw people towards him, curious about his seemingly aloof, cool, yet somewhat cold personality. But what turns them off is his unusual habit of stripping until he only has his pants left and his arrogant, brash behaviour. However, what those other girls don't know is that he is full of defense mechanisms, all created to save himself from the pain of the past.
"I want to become a bodyguard just like my mom," he told her one day while they were lying down on the grass and watching the stars. "I want to protect those who are precious to me, too, and risk my life for them."
He then turned to her with a reassuring smile on his face as if he already knew what sort of expression she had on. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I won't die the way my mother did. I promise."
Gray takes one look at her and smiles. "Nice skirt," he comments. "Isn't that too old-fashioned-looking, though?"
Lucy gapes at him, then sulks at the nearby corner. "…I'm sorry… It's all my fault… I'll go back home and change…" she chants in a monotone.
"Whoa, hey." Gray laughs, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently turning her around to face him. "I was just joking. It may not suit other people, but it sure looks good on you. I mean it, all right?"
"…Really?" Hope flickered in her eyes as she waits for his confirmation.
"Yes. I do. Besides, that's what I like about you," he says bluntly, wrapping an arm around her and leading her inside the mall.
She smiles softly and blushes a deep red. "U—Um… Gray…?"
"Yeah?"
"Aren't you… n—nervous…?"
He ceases in his tracks for a moment and turns his head towards her, startling her by the sheepish expression on his face. "Actually… I am nervous. Hey, this is my first time too, you know."
Lucy giggles. "So all this time you've just been acting cool."
His face turns red. "N—No, I wasn't!"
"Too late." She sticks her tongue out at him.
A tick mark appears on his temple, indicating his annoyance. "Why you — Hey, come back here!" he yells after she squirmed out of his hold and when she begins to run away from him playfully.
He's a guy, so in no time, he has her in his arms, and he's tickling her ferociously, causing fits of laughter to break out from her lips.
"Oh?! Gray! Lucy!"
The sound of their names being called causes them to break apart, the blood rushing to their faces. It's embarrassing enough to show affection for each other in public, but it's a lot worse when friends are added to the equation.
Mirajane Strauss, a beautiful saint-like lady with warm blue eyes, approaches them with glee evident on her face. "Soo…" she drawls teasingly. "What were you two doing?"
"N—Nothing!" Gray and Lucy chorus.
"They were kissing! I saw them!" Lisanna, Mirajane's younger sister, blurts out.
"No, we weren't!" Gray denies, looking scandalized.
Lucy gives a mock-angered expression. "Am I supposed to be insulted by that?"
Poor Gray looks like he doesn't know what he should do until Mirajane and Lisanna laugh it off.
"I am disappointed in you, Gray," Erza says solemnly. "You did not act like a man."
"Aw, shut up."
Lucy can only laugh.
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[2012]
"Will you marry me?"
The words are said casually, but she gawks at him anyway.
"What... What did you say...?"
"When we turn eighteen, will you marry me?" he repeats, looking straight into her eyes and lacking any form of embarrassment or shyness.
"I..."
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[2013]
"The annual trip is here! I'm so excited!" Lisanna gushes, her cheeks pink with excitement.
"I've heard that Singapore is quite lovely in winter," Mirajane interjects, giving her companions a sweet smile.
Lucy can't help but be affected by their contagious enthusiasm. "We're going to be riding a bus first, right?"
"Yes," Erza supplies. "Then we shall catch a plane after a few hours. Do you have the sweets ready?" she asks her boyfriend with subtle sparkles in her eyes.
Jellal chuckles. "Of course."
Cana grins, stretching her arms languidly. "I love plane trips."
Elfman's face significantly turns green. "A—A man doesn't go on plane trips," he says, slightly stumbling over his words. It's his first time, after all.
Lucy giggles, then laughs outright along with her friends as they ride the bus. Amidst the chaos inside, however, they randomly take seats in whichever direction.
A hand takes her own and she, startled, looks up at the towering figure.
"There are two empty spots behind the driver," Gray tells her. "Do you... want to sit with me?"
She almost explodes in a bubble of tomato-red in witnessing his obviously embarrassed, shy demeanour. "Of course!" she says a little too eagerly.
He smiles at her in amusement, all traces of meekness in his expression vanishing without a trace.
She punches him on the shoulder playfully. "Stop laughing at me!"
He can't help it; he chortles and ruffles her hair affectionately while he's at it.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop."
• • •
She stares blankly out the window, trying her best to reign in her fatigue. It has been about four hours since they've set out, and now she's bored to death. Her companion, on the other hand, had been busy fiddling his cell phone and she hadn't had the guts to interrupt him.
Besides, he looked like he was concentrating on it greatly.
"Lucy," he calls out suddenly.
Jolted out of her trance, she snaps her head towards him, her eyes sleepy yet alert enough to focus on him.
"Y—Yeah...?"
He hands over his headphones to her and smiles. "Listen to it," he urges her softly. "Maybe it can help you sleep."
Blinking, she nods, then wears the headphones.
"If you're not the one, then why does my soul feel glad... today...? "
Her eyes widen in shock, and then they turn towards him.
He stares back sheepishly. "Well, you've always said to me that the greatest gift that you want to receive is a playlist of the songs I sang, so here it is. Happy birthday, Lucy Heartfilia."
"I don't want to run away,
But I can't take it,
I don't understand "
Tears stinging her eyes, she wraps him into a desperate hug, feeling drastically overwhelmed.
"Thank you so much. I—I know how much you hate singing—"
"No, I don't," he tells her softly, reassuringly. "I don't hate singing anymore."
He smiles at her then, full of love and full of life.
"Not since I met you."
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And then the bus crashes onto an incoming truck, sending itself tumbling on the road.
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• • •
"...blood pressure is decreasing..."
"Stabilize her!"
"...never make it in time..."
"...too much blood...!"
She can hear the voices inside her head.
(But she can't understand what they're saying.)
"Her pulse is dropping!"
"Get me type AB from the blood bank! Now!"
"...lacerations on her legs—"
"—seemingly no serious physical damage on her brain—"
"...results of the CT scan—"
"Hurry to the Emergency Room!"
She sees a hazy light and it blinds her eyes.
(What... happened...?)
"Miss? Miss! Can you hear me?"
"She's awake?!"
Her vision blurs when she tries to tilt her head towards the direction of the person's voice.
(Where am I...?)
"Miss, can you tell me your name?"
(Where are my friends?)
"Miss, if you can hear me clearly, please tell me your name."
(Where's Gray...?)
"...Lucy..." she manages to croak out. "My name... is... Lucy..."
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[2014]
Blood cakes her skin, and she trembles as she hugs herself and buries her head in between her knees and chest. The wounds she inflicted on her wrists are excruciatingly painful for she had never experienced some sort of serious injury before.
But she can't live in this world any longer. She can't live knowing that they're gone. That he's gone.
Her father had been her pillar of support after the accident happened. But then he passed away a few months after discovering that he had cancer.
She had been miserable the day she knew that truth. She had had no one else; all of her friends were in the crash (he was there, and they were sitting beside each other).
(Oh, the blood. There was so, so much blood.)
They are gone, and they are never coming back to her.
Ever again.
She was screaming at him again. He lay there on his bed, listening painfully to her harsh, accusing words. He could feel the tears clouding his vision, but they wouldn't fall.
"Lucy, please—" he tried to say.
"NO! You've betrayed me... You and Mama both!" Angry tears were streaming down her cheeks in rivulets. "You can go die for all I care! You're going to leave me alone with no one to live for! I hate you! I. HATE. YOU!"
She stormed out the room.
She did not see the liquid falling down from her father's eyes and she did not hear the heart monitor alarmingly beep its emergency calling.
She whimpers and weeps to herself, already feeling drained, weak, and dizzy.
She is going to die now.
It is not a painless death, but it is worth it.
(Don't worry. It'll be painless in heaven, the voice tells her.)
Suddenly the door makes a loud banging sound.
"Miss? Miss! Are you in there?!"
She does not answer.
(Just a little longer, the voice cracks in glee.)
I'm going to be dead, anyway.
"Miss! Miss Heartfilia!"
In an instant, the door is slammed open, revealing a frantic nurse and two security guards flanking her.
Lucy gives an enraged gasp as the two men hastily yet firmly pull her up to her feet, intent on giving her emergency care.
"Let go of me!" she screeches, trying to push the strong arms away. "Let go! Let go!"
She feels the sharp stab of a needle pricking her skin, and her eyes slowly droop to a close.
No... No...
Gray...!
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[2015, present time]
They say that time heals all wounds.
Is it really true, though?
"Hey, I'm visiting you again," her soft, sad voice resounds across the deathly-quiet cemetery.
"Have you missed me?"
tbc
NOTE: This story has been attracting cobwebs in my hard drive for a long time now, so I decided to post it up here. The story is finished and complete, but the next chapters are... (coughcough) badly in need of revision. I'll update this when I have time, so the schedule is sorta irregular...