A/N: Thanks to Koalanoob for all of her efforts. The unbeta'd version of this story was a mess.
Jellal winces as he sets foot on the island for the first time in ten years, and sees the half crumbled ruins of the Tower of Heaven, the prison of his ambition. It looks demented underneath the dawn light, like a malformed accusatory finger pointing at the sky. With the sight comes the urge to run, to leave the island and devote himself to his mission of ridding the world of sin, anything to avoiding looking at the glaring reminder of his own. He knows that he was possessed by Ultear, but to Jellal that is not an excuse. He chose to let Ultear possess him, he chose to give into his anger and hatred.
Jellal approaches the gravestone and kneels to touch the granite, cold and rough and so unlike the warm and soft man Simon was, a man who smiled often and loved true. Despite being in the prison of the Tower of Heaven, Simon's soul had truly been free. He overcame the tragedies of his life and in the critical moment made the right choice.
Jellal takes out a bottle of beer he received from Fairy Tail and poured a cup for Simon and a cup for himself. Alcohol had never been his vice, but one of the first things Simon and Jellal had promised to do when they escaped the tower was to get a Fairy Tail guild mark and celebrate with a drink in the dining hall. Jellal figures that fulfilling some measure of that promise is long overdue.
"Well," Jellal mutters to himself, "Neither of us will ever have the guild mark, but atleast we can have the beer."
Jellal takes a hard swig of beer to stop himself from sobbing hysterically.
Suddenly he feels the overpowering need to speak, even as words fail him, because what is there he can say to the man he's killed? What use do the dead have for apologies? Still, Jellal feels that he has to do this, not only for Simon's sake but his own. Before he can face the future, he has to face the past. So Jellal opens his mouth and speaks the truth.
"Thank you," he begins, " for stopping my plans in the Tower of Heaven. You had the courage to resist what you knew to be wrong, and the strength to overcome the tragedy of your circumstances. I will always admire you for that and I am proud that you called me friend."
It is not enough. Perhaps it will never be, but that is okay, because Jellal will be back next year, and the year after that, until he has said all that needs to be said.
Jellal leaves flowers on Simon's grave, roses red as blood. Before he gets on the back on the boat, he turns to see the scenery. Simon's grave stands facing the Tower of Heaven, that monument to human evil and greed, with solemn dignity, like a hero laid to rest next to the monster he has slain. Suddenly a strong gust of wind roars through the island like the cries of the oppressed slaves as their masters whipped them without mercy. And in that horrendous din, Jellal can hear a faint whisper as quiet as footsteps on a grassy plain, so quiet he almost misses it.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. It's easier to die for your ideals than live up to them. Had I lived, I would be trapped in prisons of my own."
Jellal shakes his head at that. Simon has always been far too kind.