Summary: [AU] Abused as a child, Levy wanted to be anywhere but home. And when she does go somewhere else, her old man dies and she'll have to come back. Was the old villa all there is, or is there something more? Many things surface as she steps into the house: What caused her mother's death? Why did her father commit suicide? Why couldn't she inherit the villa? [Demon!GajeelxLevy]
Author's Note: This is still the introduction of Levy. Gajeel will also have to wait a little more. The romance develops later on, mi amigo, mi amigas! I'm taking into consideration what an abused child feels and thinks about. I hope this is to your liking!
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Anywhere But Home
"It is the suffering that human beings become angels."
-Victor Hugo-
ooOO0OOoo
Levy was six.
When her mother died, she didn't understand anything. She only thought her mother was sleeping inside the glass box. But days came and her mother didn't wake up. So, Levy was forced to understand what death meant.
She has to understand.
Death was a permanent separation from the person you love. A separation wherein, you could not leave calls and you could not send letters. Death was something horrible. It was the state wherein the person completely disappears. Their bodies are there but that's no longer them.
And you could never hold the person again. Never. It was awful. She couldn't embrace her Mama, she couldn't hear her voice, she couldn't stroke her azure hair; she couldn't anymore. And all the things you've hadn't said upon this person would remain unsaid. All because they are dead.
She had understood. However, she still failed to discover, what had killed her Mama.
Her father grew cold ever since the death of her Mama. He went far, far, far, away from her. All Levy could recall from her childhood was his harsh voice when he tells her to go to her lessons. All she remembers were the stinging slaps she received when she brought back her Mama's name. There were so many of them, she couldn't even count. All she knew was that her Papa barely cares for her anymore.
She could tell one, the most unforgettable she ever had; her father locked her in the closet. He didn't come back. She screamed, she shouted, but no Papa came. She begged for him to let her go, swearing she'd be a good girl. Well, Levy was an angel, but her father always wanted a reason to lock her away.
And she could remember why she despised the dark. It was because that closet was dark. The darkest black she's ever been in. It was horrible. She stayed there for days, she lost count. All she knew was that the hunger almost drowned her; the thirst almost killed her; the darkness almost ate her.
Aside from death, there was only one thing Levy fears next. That would be her Papa. It wasn't darkness; for one can bring light into the darkness but one could ever bring her Mama to her Papa.
She remembered how she sat there alone bawling her eyes out. And then there came gentle strokes on her head. They were so gentle, like her Mama. And she rushed towards the comfort.
Brown eyes… no, red eyes.
ooOO0OOoo
Levy jolted awake, shooting straight up. Another nightmare. It wasn't something unusual for her. She always had nightmares. But they were too rare, nowadays.
Ever since she came into a convent school, everything changed. Levy was in a better place now. She had friends that were always there for her, she had a guidance counselor for her trauma, and most importantly, she had a life there. She was Levy. Not the girl her father wanted to make out of her.
"Levy?" a voice called out from the dark. Her eyes racked around trying to immediately adapt the surrounding. She was alert. "Are you okay?" It was Lucy, thank god.
"Lu?" she whispered as she turned to her roommate.
"Yeah, I'm right here, are you alright?" Lucy asked again, the sleepiness in her voice fading into anxiety.
"Yeah—I just had a bad dream," she whispered, hugging her legs to her chest. It's been months since she had that dream. Maybe she had to talk to the councilor again.
"Bad dream?" Lucy said as she stood up. Her form visible against the light from the moon outside. She sat beside Levy pulling the lamp on. "You haven't had one for a long time," her friend asked as the light illuminated them.
Levy was burying her face in her knees trying to forget the dream. But the more she tried to forget the more mortified she was. What was it? What were those red eyes?
"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucy asked again, her hand reaching for her head. Levy flinched when Lucy began to stroke her hair. She remembered. It was as real as Lucy. It was as warm as a living thing. "Levy?" Lucy asked withdrawing her hand as well.
"It's nothing. It's just the same old dreams," she said with a dry humor. They weren't the same. They were all different; they were all playing back the dissimilar events she tried to entomb in the back of her head.
"Levy," Lucy began again. This time, she felt guilty listening to the worry straining the other's voice.
"It's about Mama. It was right after she died. Papa got furious and all. Then he locked me in the closet. I told you about this before," she whispered. Looking up, she saw the blonde's worried expression. "You know, I was there and yeah—"she said trying to shrug it off.
"Levy, you can trust me."
She knew she can. Even when she was younger, she knew Lucy. She even met Lucy back when her mother was still alive. Back to the times everyone was happy. Her family changed like Lucy's. But Lucy's father didn't come in the same shoes as her father. He just stopped caring about Lucy. The Hearfilia girl was a bucket luckier than Levy.
"I know," she whispered. Lucy leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. It was more than enough for comfort. When Lucy pulled away, Levy had decided. She needed to tell somebody right now. "I," she said feebly. "I was inside the closet. I don't know… I was just inside. I was crying and crying. Then somebody touched my head. As of the moment, I thought it was Mama," she began to shake trying hard not to cry. "There was something!" she exclaimed. "There was something and it wasn't Mama! It had red eyes, Lucy. It had red eyes, like a demon!"
ooOO0OOoo
Levy barely slept again that night. The dream had her up, she was too afraid to sleep. What if he comes back to her? Was it even a 'he'? What was it? That's why she didn't like the dark. It distorted everything. Lucy came with a solution; they wouldn't turn off the lights at night. Never.
She read through her table trying to see what she had to do for today. Her schedule was neatly pasted on her study table. And there it was; the letter she's been pasting beside her schedule.
A couple of days ago, her father sent her a letter demanding her to go back to Villa Edenis, their villa. At the first sight of the letter, she was left shocked. Why would her father demand her presence? Haven't him been contented that she wasn't around? When she had stepped out the villa, his father had held a party. He held a mocking celebration in disguise of a boom in his business. As if. She thought being so calloused with her father's animosity over her existence.
She didn't reply to it. She tried to pretend it was nothing. And that she was, like any other girls her age, in stage of rebellion.
"Levy?" a voice asked. She turned to see her friend, standing wet from the showers. "You've been staring at the open space."
"Uh—I'm just tired," she said smiling to her friend, almost brightly.
"Okay, I'll get dressed and go to school. How about you?" her friend asked, as she rammed into her closet.
"I think I'll be resting a bit," she answered. When her friend shot her a look, she quickly flashed a smile assuring the other one. "I'm just feeling a bit naughty; I'm skipping school," she gave a quick laugh.
"Oh—I thought you're feeling naughty," Lucy said catching on without a doubt. A sly smirk curled on her face as she turned to Levy a bit. "Don't get caught, uh-huh?" she said sweetly.
"Lu!" Levy exclaimed feeling her face lit up in embarrassment. "That's not what I meant!"
"Really now?"
"Yes, and, no, that's not what I meant," she said hotly. She bit back a snort and turned her head away from her friend's lascivious assumptions. The other merely giggled and dressed up. She couldn't help but blush some more as Lucy dressed with less propriety, but that is Lucy. She's always like that.
She had followed the trend but yet again, she didn't necessarily have the same body as Lucy. She was merely a child compared to her friend. From her height down to the size of her breasts, it was nothing compared to the girls in her school. So whether she followed the fashion, nothing would show off. She hated that but then again, she could do nothing to it.
"Levy?" her friend's voice hummed. She focused back to their small chitchat, just to find her holding up a tiny dress in front of her. "Guess what I got you!"
"Lucy, that's kind—"
"Try it!" Lucy said grinning. And she knew there was no use of arguing. She'd never win an argument over her fashion. Although she thinks there is nothing wrong with it, Lucy always insists that she follows the normal trend. And the normal trend was like, 'The shorter, the better'.
She found herself fitting the dark dress. It made her skin paler than usual, and her curves, surprisingly evident. She angled herself in front of the full-body mirror, searching for a flaw in the dress. But none came. It was sinfully clutching into her with perfection. But it did show so much skin.
The short dress showed much of her thin legs. And it also made her breasts pumped up a bit. To say she felt confident was an understatement. She saw a girl who could make heads turn in the mirror. It was a strapless dress, another sight of her pale neck down to her shoulders. But, who was she trying to impress?
Sure Levy had found some guys from school cute, but she hadn't actually liked one. She hadn't fallen head over heels for someone. She found herself despising the emptiness of the brains of the jocks which Lucy usually dated. However, she also didn't seem to like the arrogance of the men who carried too much elegance. It felt like she was talking to a man who was like her father. Look-wise, they were all good looking. There was no question to that. She just wasn't into them.
"O-kay? Now, what?" she said turning to her friend.
"Oh, you know, because you're feeling naughty today!"
And Lucy was gone like that. The door had slammed close before she could throw a pillow to her friend who's been jesting green things.
She hung a scarf over her shoulders, trying to ease her discomfort from what Lucy had in mind. Of course, she wasn't going to pick up some guys. She simply wants to forget her dreams. Remembering the feeling of someone touching her hair made her jolt. She had to get out of here. She didn't feel safe.
In her rush, she unintentionally hit a frame. Or did she?
A crash was heard, echoing inside the room. Her picture frame fell broken on the floor. It was the frame where she had left her only picture of their once happy family guarded. She panicked and ran out of the room scared. She could have hit it unintentionally, right? But she didn't feel bumping into anything. Aside from that, the frame was fairly far from the edge.
"Levy," she was drastically pulled out of her world when two men stood in front of her stopping her from her track. She looked up with the same mortified face she had carried as she ran out the room. They were familiar faces, thankfully.
"Jet! Droy!" she exclaimed as she jumped to hug them both; both in excitement and relief.
"We have to talk to you," they said grimly. She pulled away right in that instant looking at them. Their tone had this underlying sorrow she couldn't recognize. They've never been this sad.
"It's your father," Jet started trying not to look into her eyes.
"He com—" Droy tried to finished just to be cut in the middle by his friend.
"He's dead," Jet said.
ooOO0OOoo
Levy didn't cry. She didn't feel anything. She just stood there in front of them. "He's dead?" she said but it didn't sound much of a question.
In fact, she was racking her mind for something. An excuse. She was racking her mind for an excuse not to attend his funeral. She knew that was not possible. She knew that it was something only ingrates do. But what can she do, the man never became a father to her. She rarely remember him talking to her without spouting insults to her.
"You have to go home! So many things happened! And there's this girl who claims the villa was left for her!"
Her eyes were filled with a mist of indifference. They can take it. She has everything she needs here. Everything.
"Pull yourself together, Levy!" Jet said as he held her shoulders shaking her. "Have you forgotten? That's where you grew up, Levy! That's your home!" he said, his eyes almost glaring at her. "What has the city done to you!"
Levy's eyes shot up to her old friend. He was right. She did grow up there but he missed a single detail. That villa wasn't her home. Maybe it did at some point but she had forgotten it in the midst of her father's tantrums. She could feel her friend's eyes sizing her up, as if she was an alien creature to them.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, Levy," Jet said defeated as his arms fell on his sides. Droy came to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. He smiled sadly at her then turned to Jet, "Hush, Jet, she's still in shock. You can't expect her to accept it right away."
Jet looked at her before snorting. He was always the one who had a harder surface. He was always the rather violent one but she understood. On normal circumstances, it was strange for a girl who's father solely took care of her be indifferent over his death. "Look at how she dresses like," he mumbled.
She could feel heat rising up her face, as she looked down to her shoes. She was more concerned that she had ran out in slippers than in in more presentable flats. She was more concerned on that than going home.
ooOO0OOoo
Her uncle, Makarov, had sent a letter for the school. Everything had been pressed ready for her leave. There were tickets and there were reservations. She had no idea when this things came in place but right now, they just were.
She fought the urge to argue; to scream; to beg them not to let them bring her back. She hated that place. She hated the villa. She hated the gigantic arcs, the passive statues, the large closets. She wanted to tell them that it was a torture camp to her. She was still afraid.
She was afraid that her Papa is actually plotting something more sinister. Maybe he was mad that she hadn't replied to his letter. Maybe he was scheming a worse punishment. She could feel herself tremble with fear. She needed help, anyone would do.
But what if he was actually dead? What if he actually died? Her friends, and Uncle Makarov would never lie to her. What should she do? How should she feel?
She sat on her bed with tears at the edge of her eyes. "Levy?" a voice said. She looked up to see Lucy standing before her with a worried expression. Her friend had dropped her bag when she saw the tears in Levy's eyes.
"What's wrong?" Lucy asked as she knelt in front of her friend. "Have you been having bad dreams again?"
She shook her head and wiped her eyes trying to smile. She tried to but she ended up bawling like a child to Lucy. "Lucy, I don't understand anymore," she sobbed.
ooOO0OOoo
By the end of the day, Lucy had managed to calm Levy. Lucy decided to tag along with her to her house, whether it worked with the school or not. And there was no point with arguing with Lucy. Since she had started packing up as soon as Levy had calmed down.
Levy as well had started to pack, slow and unsure. The panic had gone down her throat for now. She still was too confuse however.
For now, she laid on her bed. She had never appreciated the comforts of her bed this much for her whole stay here. Because tomorrow, she won't be having this same homey comforts. She'll miss this.
She closed her eyes, resting her confused mind. Her consciousness surrendering to slumber.
And she saw a pair of red eyes..
ooOO0OOoo
Do you think I'm completely destroying Fairytail? Tell me, don't flame me.
Curious what will happen on her way back home? Tell me, and I'll update ASAP.
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Arigatou!
(*w*)/
