They laughed and threw things - stones, fruit, rotten fruit…
"Devil child!" one screamed, and the others took up the chant with wicked mirth on their faces.
A rotten tomato hit his cheek as he pleaded for them to stop.
But they didn't.
He looked beseechingly at them.
A familiar redhead, face contorted in hatred, tossed a stone at him. It hit his head, and she joined in on the chant.
Suddenly, the townspeople weren't townspeople anymore.
Makarov, Gildarts, Cana, Lucy, Erza, Alzack, Bisca, Max, Loke… all of them were sneering, jeering, laughing at his condition, yelling about how they never should've let such a demon into their guild.
"Devil child! Devil child!" The shouts grew louder and louder. A stomping rhythm began to accompany them, thrumming through the ground, and he realised that they were all stamping their feet in unison.
He screamed as he curled into a small ball. The only way to hide, to protect himself, was to retreat into himself. It wasn't a defense at all, not really, but it was the only thing he had left.
He kept shrieking, pleading for them to stop, but to no avail.
His throat slowly grew ragged, and his screams died down, trickling into small, whimpered pleas, until they finally went completely unheard.
"Please… stop…"
A harsh kick made his side explode in pain, and the agony was too much to bear. He wasn't able to curl up anymore, and almost against his will, his legs stretched out, giving his hip that much-needed relief.
Above him, an achingly familiar face looked at him in anger.
"You're such a monster," hissed Natsu at him. "I can't believe I was ever even your friend."
And Gray let out a scream that was so loud it woke even him up. It resounded throughout the large, nearly-empty house. He raised a hand to touch his cheek, which was strangely wet.
But - why - was I crying?
And it all just came flowing back.
The fear, the anger, the tears - they all assaulted Gray at once, and suddenly he was that little village boy again, getting bullied by the townspeople for his and his parents' odd looks and accent.
"Stop… please…" he begged wraiths that did not exist.
"Gray?" Natsu blinked sleepily up at him, but that sleepiness was gone in an instant when he saw the wild fear in Gray's eyes.
Gray curled into a ball, shying away from him, and Natsu knew in that minute that this was not the Gray he knew. This was a terrified child who was too afraid of the world to come out of his shell.
Natsu did the only thing he could.
He scooped Gray into his lap and rocked him back and forth, petting his hair, murmuring, "It's all right, they can't hurt you anymore,"
Gray whimpered and whined, curling even further into himself, but Natsu did not let go.
He knew what Gray dreamed of every night.
The townspeople, bullying him for his looks and his speech. Then morphing into people from Fairy Tail.
And finally Natsu himself.
Gray had told him this, shaking and sobbing, one night when it had been too bad for Natsu to comfort him.
And of course the Dragon Slayer could not let Gray think that.
So Natsu kept rocking, kept soothing, kept pressing little kisses into Gray's hair.
He didn't care however long it took.
He would always be there for Gray.
Because that was what was love. Not obsessive stalking and begging like Juvia had once done. But staying with your love through the tough times. Being with them, living for them as they lived for you.
And Natsu loved Gray.
So he stayed.