Chapter 3

Lucy was healing up nicely. The wounds on her limbs had almost completely healed, while the damage done to her womanhood had healed completely and properly. The gaping hole in her abdomen, however, was only beginning to heal over. She was still confined to Magnolia, and that in itself was torture. She still had Natsu's scarf, and slept with it close by every night for the first two weeks. To his credit, Natsu stayed with her every day and spent the night sleeping on the floor in her room. Happy was sent home every night so they both could sleep; he would talk for hours and hours and keep them up, and while they loved him dearly, Lucy needed to sleep so her body would heal, and Natsu was playing her keeper and bodyguard, so he kicked Happy out every night.

And every night, Lucy would curl up for a little while, thinking about what had happened to her, then fall asleep. Every night, right around midnight, she would wake up screaming, and Natsu would wake, crawl into bed with her, and hold her tight, stroking her hair and murmuring calming assurances to her. She would cling to him, bury her face in his chest, and listen to his heartbeat. He'd kiss her forehead, tell her it would be okay, and hum lullabies until she fell asleep.

Then he would watch her, still stroking her hair and humming as he memorized her face, her hair, the feel of both, her heartbeat against his, her eyes, her lips, her nose, the freckles that dotted her cheeks. And after he was sure she was asleep, he'd kiss her forehead and rest his mouth there, and fall asleep like that, his arms wrapped around her and his heart open to her.

One particular night, she woke up without screaming. Her body was drenched in cold sweat; she had been plagued by nightmares again. The cool night air blew across her bare back and shoulders and she shivered, almost regretting wearing the tank top and shorts for pajamas. She sat up slowly, mindful of the throbbing pain in her side, and grabbed his scarf. She breathed in his smell and her body relaxed a bit. Glancing around, she saw Natsu on the floor, his head pillowed on his arms, stretched out a few feet away.
She smiled at the memories that rose in her head of that first night, of her waking up screaming and his arms wrapping around her, stroking her hair and whispering to her. She remembered placing her hand over his heart, feeling it beat under her touch, and that she'd look back up at him, seeing his eyes dark and clouded, and wondering what she'd done wrong.
When she whispered that one night, he'd smiled a softer, wide smirk, and replied with, "You looked like an angel, that's what." She had simply smiled and traced the tattoo on his shoulder, running her fingers across his collarbone and up his neck, over his jaw. She'd cupped his face and pulled him into a sweet, chaste kiss. It lasted only a moment, but afterwards he'd slid one arm under her head and pulled her closer with the other. His body was warm to the touch. She was asleep almost instantly.

She remembered that perfectly as she gazed down at him now. He was so much more…handsome, adorable, maybe…when he was asleep. His nose twitched and occasionally he would smile or mumble. As she watched, his face twisted into a look of fright and he started to moan despairingly. His body twitched and flinched and he curled in on himself. Then he started to talk, clearly, about her. He was afraid she would die, afraid he wouldn't see her smile again. Then he yelled and sat bolt upright, wide awake. He looked at her and his face paled when she looked back. His eyes were wet with tears and one slid down his cheek. She slipped off the bed gracefully, dragging a blanket with her, and sat down by him.
He watched her silently and didn't move when she sat directly in front of him. "Was it a bad dream, Natsu?" she asked softly, already knowing the answer. He nodded quickly curtly, and looked away, rubbing at his eyes. She extended her hand and wiped the tear away, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. He leaned into her touch and took her hand in his.

She reached forward, took him by the wrists gently, and pulled them into her lap. She lifted one hand, traced it with her fingers, and placed her own against it, looking at how much thinner and paler her hand was compared to his. She did the same for the other hand and glared at the white bandage that wrapped around her palm and wrist. He still stayed frozen, tense, his eyes turned away. She understood. He didn't show emotion too often; not emotion like this. Not affection or love or anything like that. She was patient. This dream, whatever it was about, had frightened him. Unnerved him. She let go of his hands and immediately they retreated to his legs.

"Natsu." He flinched but otherwise ignored her. She repeated his name again, louder. He still ignored her. She frowned. She touched his arm; he shifted away. "Natsu…" She said softly. He stood and walked to the window. She remained seated on the floor, watching him. He sat down on the windowseat and looked outside. She continued to watch him. For hours she watched him, until the first light of day showed on the horizon. Only then did she stand up, walk over to him, and crawl into his lap. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist, content to just stay there and hold him. She waited, patiently, silently.
Finally his arms slid around her and he sighed. "I was dreaming," he began, almost whispering, "that I was in that castle again, but you were with me when I went in. All around me I could hear voices, growling, snarling, cackling, whispering, but I wasn't afraid. You were there with me, and I was okay. But…" he trailed off and his arms tightened around her. "Then I turned around and you were just…gone. I couldn't find you. I turned again and I was back in the camp with Happy and Grey, and I heard you screaming for me." He paused and took a deep, shuddering breath.
She lifted her head and her hands, cupped his face, and kissed his nose. Then she curled up in his lap, one hand over his heart, the other combing through his hair, calming, encouraging. He continued.

"I..I could hear them laughing, calling you names. I could see you struggling to free yourself and only making them angry. I….I saw them take you. Over and over again, and I wanted to scream and rip them apart, but I couldn't move. It was like I was inside one of their heads and seeing everything they saw. I watched him take you, and then they started hurting you, over and over, throwing things, whipping you, until you were so bruised and broken that I could hardly tell it was you. Finally you collapsed and they cheered. The fucking bastards cheered. They fought over who would carry you. And then suddenly I was in the castle. I couldn't see you, but I could hear you, crying and screaming and calling for me. I ran to you, but when I found you…" He blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, and she brushed his cheek with her hand, running the other through his hair again and again. His hold tightened again.

"W-When I found you, you were gone. There was blood, so much blood, I felt like I was drowning in it. I felt so lost, so utterly hopeless. I screamed and yelled for you to come back to me, but I was ignored. It was as if I'd betrayed you and now I was paying the price. I sat there and held your body and just…cried. I was so lost and afraid and broken without you…" She blinked back tears as he trailed off again.
"Is that when you woke up?" She asked him, softly, gently. He nodded, swallowed hard again. He loosened his grip on her and tipped her chin up, looking into her chocolate eyes. She slid her hands down under his arms and pulled him close, burying her face into his chest. His heartbeat was erratic, pounding loudly in his chest. She kissed his bare shoulder, softly, and watched his reaction. He looked down at her and smiled faintly. She smiled back warmly, gently. "It's okay, Natsu. It was just a dream." He frowned and slid one hand into her hair, pulling her to him. Their foreheads met softly and he sighed. "I know." He said, "It was just a bad dream." She snuggled into him and wrapped her arms around him, bare skin against bare skin, and started to sing softly. He recognized it as an old lullaby his mother sang when he was very little; it was one he sang to her every night when she woke screaming. She sang it so quietly that only they could hear it; the two of them, tortured and beaten, over and over and over, but still managed to get up again and again.