Got this one written way faster than I thought I would, so I'm feeling good!
Special thank you's to: Misasha-x, Kori no Koibito and Akami, who took their time to review and fave, I award thee with a smiley! :D
Name: Sole Duty (Fairy Tail fic)
Summary: What is called a reason for living is also a reason for dying. Now if they could all just remember that. [Chapter 334. Alternate Timeline]
Genre: Tragedy, Friendship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama;
Chars: Gray F, Mavis V, Team Natsu;
Rating: T
Beta: LovelyWeather;
Chapter 7
The only time Fairy Tail's guild was truly quiet was after hours. When the lights were off and a certain type of hush fell over the place, as if the building itself had released an exhausted sigh and called it in for the day. No one sat or made noise at the bar, no one loitered in the hallways or started spontaneous fights, no one disturbed the silence.
And then there was a light snore.
A phantom, a small thing it was, no bigger than a rat, crawled under the door of the guildmaster's office. It slithered onto the table, cluttered with papers and books and bills and a single bottle of fine whiskey, now empty, standing right next to its slumbering owner. The shadow listened to him breathe, in and out, slowly, the tinge of alcohol on his breath, until it eventually heard what it needed.
"mY...ChiLdrEn," it gurgled, voice thin and uneven, "onE of... mY...ChiLdrEn ( gone gone gone)..."
The man's brow knitted together and the little black mass crawled closer. "WhAT a... bAd(bad bad bad) ParEnT," thin black threads came alive, drifting around it excitedly, "leThIs... ChiLdDiE... sO yOunG… sO sMaLL… (remember?)"
Makarov's back tensed and he mumbled something unintelligibly in his sleep. Smoky limbs reached out to him, "hE wAs OnLy tEn… jUSt a ChiLd (now dead dead dead)- nO FuTurE ... yoUr cHilDren… yOuR rESpoNsiBiliTy… WhaT hAve I (yessssss you you all you) dONe? hE wAs… a cHiLd… rem- EEEK!"
The room spun around, everything tilted up-side down and the phantom found itself staring into the clearly upset face of Mavis Vermilion. She held it up by the tips of her fingers, like one would hold a dirty pair of underwear, and she looked at it in the same regard.
"-URnsBUrnSBuRNnSITBuRRRrrNS!" it squealed and wiggled.
She contemplated what to do with it, weighting her morals against the actions of the leech in her grasp with bored indifference. In the moment it gave a particular painful screech, she sighed and dropped it. "Scram."
The second it hit the floor it scrambled away.
Mavis wiped her hand and turned back to the table, checking over the man frowning and mumbling in his sleep.
She carefully looked over his features, over the receding hair, the wrinkles lined up on his forehead and laugh-lines, the foreign whiteness of his mustache, the bags under his eyes; and despite it all she could still make out the boy she remembered him as from so long ago, looking up at her with wide and amazed eyes, asking if she was a fairy and if she could grant him his wish.
The memory made her smile and she laid her head down next to his. She lifted her hand, inching it closer to his cheek until it looked like she was touching it. He muttered something again, brows furrowing and his hands curling into fists.
"Oh, sweetheart, shhh," she coed, pretending to stroke the side of his head. "It's okay. Shhhh, now. You did good."
It was so subtle, the way her skin started to glimmer. How she gently lit up, glowing like a candle in a bright yet delicate way, as if her skin was made out of golden fairy dust, sprinkling the air around her.
"You've watched over them so well," she whispered affectionately, "You gave them a home, guided and protected them, loved them as if they were your own… I am so proud of you Makarov… We all are." Her eyes softened and she hummed deeply in her lungs. The soothing sound faded into the calm, weaved itself into the silence of their private moment.
She gazed at him, both wistful and amazed, at his soft life, at the dreams on his eyelids, neverchanging, uniquely his. A ripple of giggles and small pattering steps echoed in her ear as Mavis remembered him, small and clumsy, chasing after her and trying to grasp the edge of her dress, and then the echo deepened and fell into a steady rhythm until he was walking in long confident steps, and going further, further, slipping by her like sand in an hourglass…
Come morning, he would once again take on the role of the guildmaster of Fairy Tail. He would watch over his children the same way she did. Keep them together with mutual love and support, make sure that the world didn't turn their hearts hard, didn't use their pain to create hate and make them forget that the world, despite all of its flaws, was indeed a beautiful place.
"... Rita would be so proud of you too," her voice shook for a moment and she let her hand linger on his cheek. A single teardrop sneaked out from behind his eyelids, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe it away, take all the hurt and make it better. But she couldn't.
It took an effort to move her hand away and she stood up, the glow around her dissolving into thin air.
This was Makarov's burden now. The hurdle of every parent. The mantle he willingly took upon himself. These were his children.
He would wake up in the morning, sore and in pain, still missing one of them, but the stain of darkness would not be there, weighting him down. He would find the strength to get up, face the rest of his children and help them mend their own hearts. And she would be in the background, silently watching it unfold before her.
She brushed her hand against his cheek lovingly one last time, content to see his fingers uncurled and expression relaxed despite the tear stains. Silently she sneaked out of the room. "Sleep well Makarov."
~~ (O) ~~
The First strolled around the guild's hallways, picking off a phantom here, a phantom there; hunting them down from high up where they hung like loose cobwebs down to the cubbyholes bellow the rare intact pieces of furniture. And then an unusual thought occurred to her.
The wavy movements of her hands, the way her eyes prowled around corners and unlikely surfaces. She wondered what it reminded her of. It felt familiar. Just on the tip of her tongue. Like she was-
(You're dusting, Princes.)
Mavis paused, tilting her head to the side. "I am?"
(Well, you are, in a way, cleaning the guild, aren't you?)
(Right?)
(… Right.)
Her face lit up. "Oh my stars, you're right!" It was like she was dusting!
Excitement simmered beneath her skin, zapping her with such a rush of energy she couldn't help but adopt a little skip in her step.
She was cleaning! Tidying up! Making her home spick and span! Clean as a whistle! Rid from those nasty little phantoms! The whole idea was simply too wonderful not to indulge! She hadn't dusted in years! She picked up her pace with a smile that couldn't get any bigger and ran up and down the hallways, floated to places she couldn't normally reach, chasing off or picking up one phantom at a time and dropping them ungracefully outside. Her body started glowing again, the sparkles that trailed behind her wafting out the gloom and what could only be described as a bad aftertaste in the air.
"Come on, out out out!" she chanted, chasing down a little group, "Can't have you hanging around here when my guest arrives."
They rounded a corner and in their panic the phantoms phased through the wall and out of the guild.
"Ohhh, this is so fun!" she giggled, skipping on her toes and holding up her fists in delight, "Quick, quick! Are there any we missed?" She turned on her heel, looking around and smiling. "There was that little group that got away back when we were cleaning the west side! Any idea where they ran off?"
(...I think they'll have to wait.)
"Nonsense! The boy will be here any moment now," she said, still buzzing with excitement and working herself into a stride, "And I want this place spotless! Not a phantom in sight! Now I bet they ran back up-"
(Umm, Princes?)
"-but if not, the next best options would be to check the upstairs bathroom-"
(Mavis?)
"-For some reason they really like hanging around there, it's really weird if you think about it, I mean people go there to-"
(Oi! You- you're not listening!)
"-no concept of privacy! In any case I bet we can cut them off at the staircase and just-"
(MAVIS!)
She stopped in her tracks. The girl blinked when the realization struck her.
(...He's back.)
Her brow crinkled and Mavis turned her head to the darkened hallway beside her, "… so he is."
~~ ( O ) ~~
Beep… Beep… Beep… -was the first thing she heard when she phased through the door. The sound of a heart-monitor.
The second was a snore, uneven and so unbelievably oafish and loud that it would have startled her had she not known the person had been there several days in a row now.
Mavis gazed around the infirmary, eyes passing briefly over the comatose girl and the slayer who was ungracefully sprawled in a chair by her bed. She would have found the sight precious if she didn't have prior business.
"I thought I told you," she said, face blank, "If you're not gonna follow my rules then you're not welcome here."
Silence prevailed for several moments. And then darkness exploded in front of her. Gusts of inky smoke rolled over the wall and floor across the room, just as angry and dangerous as a stormcloud at sea. Two white slits snapped open, glaring at her.
"anD I tHouGht I tOld yOu to pISs oFF brAt."
Her own eyes narrowed in response. "I'm getting tired of repeating myself."
"sO aM I,LitTLe gIrL. fINdErs keEpERs," it hissed.
"They. are. not. yours." Her fists clenched when the shadow laughed.
"ohHh I bEg tO diFFEr. I'vE beEn hERe fOr YeArS bEfORe yOu dEciDEd tO sHOw uP. iF yOu tHinK I'm jUst gOnNA cLEaR oUt, thEn yOu'Re mORe nAivE tHAn yOu aPPeaR."
The darkness started crawling towards them and Mavis didn't hesitate when she took a protective step between it and the two mages. Her skin lit up in a flash, blindingly bright and burning the shadows back.
"I'm not letting you take advantage of this," she said and it reeled back with a shriek. Its eyes flashed in rage, the smoke seethed, brewing in its own anger, becoming thicker and towering over her like a tsunami. Mavis didn't even bat an eyelash- she stared down the storm before her, unyielding like a mountain.
"yOu cAn'T bE eVEryWHeRe rUnt," it spat venomously, sounding like it wanted nothing more than to rip her apart given the chance. "mAybE yOu'Re sTRoNgEr, bUt yOu'Re aT A biGgEr dIsAdvAntaGe thAn yOu kNoW."
"I'm not warning you again," she said threateningly, taking a step forward. "Get. Out."
A deep growl resonated from within, but the darkness essentially pulled back. Its eyes narrowed at her in controlled fury, before it glanced over the occupied bed. Raw anger and delight brimmed in its voice, "I cAn'TwAit fOr thIs oNe tOwAKe uP."
"Out!" she burst out, the shadow vanished and Gajeel bolted up.
"Huh- Whaassa-" he blinked, sleepy and disoriented.
It took him a moment to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the infirmary. He looked around, gazing carefully about the empty room, before he glanced over to Juvia.
Still sleeping.
No movements, no twitches, just steady breathing and mechanical beeping. The slayer settled back into his chair with a huff.
He must have imagined it.
~~ ( O ) ~~
The problem with unwanted life-changes was that they still existed outside of your scope of control. Getting used to them was even harder, but that was a whole different problem.
A single day is filled up with routines that, no matter how mundane or small, grew into habits. When it gets dark, it only makes sense to turn on the lights. When you want to sit, you sit. When you wanna go somewhere, you open the fucking door and go!
But the problem persisted... because Gray couldn't do any of that shit.
It started as an annoyance, because silly him, of course he couldn't very well just open the door to his own house like a normal person. But by the tenth time he missed the door handle Gray was ready to punch something, which, ironically, he also couldn't do!
He could also forget about turning the lights on. It was like a friggin' joke because, of course, who would have thought that during nighttime ghost, ghouls and such 'creatures of the night', ironically couldn't see jack-shit in the same fucking dark?
The more he fucked up and ended up phasing through stuff, the more he became confused as to how the whole thing even worked. It occurred to him the moment he tried sitting down in the same armchair he sat in when the girls were over, and he somehow ended up falling through it on his ass.
The whole thing was just confusing as heck.
So with nothing but time on his hands, the alchemist decided to do some… experimenting. Call it morbid curiosity, call it boredom or procrastinating, but there were several hours before midnight and, well, he had nothing better to do. Gray spent the following time poking, prodding and ultimately passing his hand through whatever object he set his sights on. But with no different outcome each time around, the whole thing got old real fast.
What in the world was he even supposed to do with himself. He stared angrily at his feet planted firmly on the ground and briefly wondered about the fact that he wasn't sinking through it, and that also made no fucking sense! Talk about selective physics.
Gravity works in mysterious ways, he sneered to himself.
And yet there was something holding him still firmly attached to this place, a force just as invisible and incomprehensible. He needed to rationalize it somehow, he thought he would go crazy otherwise. He needed to talk it out, because he was already feeling the withdrawal symptoms that come from being able to talk to one fucking person in the whole world. And it was the exact person he needed to interrogate more on how this whole dumb schtick worked because the more and more he thought about it, the less and less the mechanics made sense to him.
The thought made him glance at the clock several times in a row. Impatience nipped at him and a low wave of anxiety rolled around his stomach at midnight's approach. He still hadn't figured anything out.
It made him uncomfortable, knowing he had been a bumbling mess and nearly lost his shit twice in front of her already. He would not allow himself a third time.
So, the mage took a deep breath and thought of what he would say to his friends over her. Gray paced the room, trying to organize his thoughts and words in order, dig deep inside himself to pull out the words he needed because he felt at a complete loss. It was like he couldn't form a single thought that started at point A and finished at point B. All he could find in his head were heart-wrenching images of his friends, crying in front of his grave. It was a frustrating mess in his head, a whole fucking tangled yarn and the more he tried to unravel it, the more he got caught up in it.
Words were scarce, and by the time he needed to leave, Gray really had to wonder if anything he said would truly be enough to say goodbye to his friends.
~~ ( O ) ~~
The guild's doors towered over him, and Gray almost made the mistake of reaching for the door handle again. Huh, maybe he was finally starting to get used to this?
With a deep breath, he extended his hand and slowly, like how one tested the water in a bathtub, phased through the doors.
Scratch that, he shuddered once he emerged to the other side, Still weird.
The spacious lobby greeted him, empty, sort of dark and so, soooo bizarrely quiet that it made him uncomfortable. Funny. He'd been coming here for eight years now and this might have been the first time he ever felt so out of place.
"Um… hello?" he called out, "Anyone here?"
He didn't get an answer. Instead, he spotted a weak glow, faintly shimmering behind the end of the bar. Gray frowned, wondering what on Earth was the First guildmaster doing? He sincerely hoped that she outgrew hide-and-seek, as he walked towards her.
"First?" he said, slowly rounding the corner, "What are you-"
… she wasn't there.
The vacant space was illuminated by a single flickering flame. A candle, softly burning away, surrounded by picture frames.
For a while, he just stood there. Caught mid-breath and eyes tracing over the chronological mess of faces bathed in candlelight and smiling back at him.
Group photos from over the years, from when they were all just little kids, from shared vacations and picnics and fishing trips and other moments he couldn't exactly place on a timeline. He wondered if he stared at them long enough, would he remember them all? Would the voices drift back to him? The words said before and after the pictures were taken? Would he see the shapes and smiles just as clearly and vividly or see them through a keyhole?
And there it was. The heart that he supposedly didn't have in his chest anymore, still somehow hurting and bleeding through those thick and stale layers of self-preserving apathy.
It didn't escape him how all the frames were compiled and arranged around a lone, singled-out one. The very same one that held his own image, shaped with soft pencil lines and dabs of watercolors. He had seen enough of Reedus' drawings to know this was his artwork.
The urge to reach out and run his fingers over the pictures and faces was almost overwhelming. And that awoke a deep sadness within him. A sadness that streamed from something else. Something he felt arise from the very bottom of his being.
"I gotta admit, the drawing is pretty accurate."
"Gah!" he stumbled back, head whipping to the girl standing next to him. "When'd you get here?!"
An innocent tilt of her head. "I've been here for a while now."
A while? He frowned, feeling embarrassed. Talk about being light on your fe-... Nevermind.
"That was really nice of them, don't you think?" Mavis clasped her hands behind her back and gazed almost longingly at the little display. They stood in mutual silence for a while, basking in the candlelight glow. "It kind of reminds me of a hug," she grinned up at him.
He didn't respond. Sure, he could see why it reminded her of that, with the whole circular arrangement and everything. It was a nice metaphor. However, it reminded him of something else. Of a single fact he forgot all too easily. A message that was engraved within every picture here, within every frame and captured smile.
He was never alone in Fairy Tail.
"So," she said suddenly, "Feeling any better?"
Gray nodded, still gazing at the pictures.
"So you're over the whole denial phase?"
Gray sighed and turned around, only to notice that she wasn't beside him anymore but was rather sitting at the table behind him. He frowned, wondering how she did that, before shaking the question off. He'd ask her later. He had more pressing matters.
"In a way, I guess." There were only so many times one could fail to open a single door until it sunk in. "It's not the easiest thing to get used to."
"Understandable," she patted the table, "Come, sit with me."
The mage eyed the seat warily, recalling how he ungracefully fell through his armchair. "I'll... stand, thanks."
"Suit yourself," she clasped her hands, "Now, you and I have a lot to discuss."
He supposed they did. "I'm assuming you want to clue me in about those things?"
"… Oh, you mean the phantoms?" she chuckled at his confused expression, "That's what I call them at least."
"Right. Them. Ummm, I see there aren't any of those things around now," he said lamely.
"Of course not!" she beamed at him. "I chased them out."
"So they're gone?" he raised an eyebrow, skeptical, "For good?"
Her smile turned sympathetic. "Just because you clean your house once, doesn't mean it won't get dirty again."
He had a feeling that would be the case. "So they'll be back," he stated, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking back to the little shrine made for him.
"Like I told you, they latch onto negative emotions, they're drawn to them. And emotions don't just go away on their own. Especially these ones," she said, following his gaze.
Meaning, as long as his friends grieved and mourned his death, the phantoms would constantly be hanging around Fairy Tail, leeching off his nakama.
Having experienced it on his own, Gray knew grief and how it progressed. How it messed with a person, how self-pity, regret and depression in the face of someone's death were strenuous states that were as suffocating and cold as the ocean's depths; stay in them long enough and you end up with no strength to swim to the surface, drowning under your own weight.
"So how do we keep them out?"
Mavis looked up, surprised at the raw determination she saw in his eyes.
We, it echoed in her head, and she found herself holding back a smile. "You wanna learn?"
Gray crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I don't plan on spending an eternity hiding in my house, being a sitting duck. Didn't you say that they were dangerous to my existence?" If it could even be called that.
"Besides," he said with the same spunk and resolution she witnessed when he said he'd face Rufus, "I'm not about to sit around doing nothing while those things make themselves at home here. Who the hell do you think I am?"
(Ha! That's a Fairy Tail member alright!)
"Alright," she said, eyes facing his. "But if I'm gonna teach you, there are a-"
"Who the hell are ya yammering to?"
Both of them froze, caught off guard by the dark figure looming over them without either of them noticing. Red eyes glared down at her, making hers grow wide in surprise. And then Mavis sighed in relief.
"Gajeel, you startled me," she said, placing a hand to her chest, "I thought you were asleep."
"Freaking hell," Gray muttered just as relieved as her. He wasn't expecting anyone to be at the guild.
The Dragon Slayer sneered, walking down the rest of the steps. "Kind of hard to sleep with you talking so loudly to-" Gajeel stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and firmly planted on Gray. Gray stared back, just as wide-eyed and startled.
"Fucking hell..."
Something akin to panic crossed his face and then Gajeel's face twisted in anger. He growled, nostrils fuming and marched right towards him. Gray opened his mouth, "Gajeel-" "Bloody freaking morons!"
The slayer stalked right through him. "They wanna burn down the whole guild or somthin'?" he gritted through his teeth and put out the candle with his fingers.
Gray stood motionless, hand on his chest and eyes lowered. He slipped up again. A weak chuckle. "Heh, good to know someone is keeping their head around here, right?" he said, looking back up at her. She donned her usual smile and he suddenly recognized the same subtle shift in her expression he saw at the funeral.
He blinked. Something was off. "First?"
"So is this what ya do every night?" Gajeel asked, facing her, "Sit around the guild an' talk to yourself?"
She giggled. "Hihi, I guess I tend to do that." She wasn't looking at him. Why wasn't she looking at him? "I'm afraid it's a habit. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Well, ya did," he grumbled, ripping off the padlock around kitchen doors and threw it into his mouth to chew.
Anger flared in his eyes and Gray clenched his fists. It was only when Gajeel entered the kitchen did she actually look at him. "Why didn't tell him you could see me?"
Her eyes bore into his, calm and calculating, and a sinking feeling spread through his stomach.
"… because I don't plan on telling anyone."
It just occurred to me that this is officially the longest story I have ever written! So bravo me!
Awwww Makarov and Mavis feels ;A; It's moments like these that essentially inspire me with new story plots.
Anyway!
Who, oh who, is our dear Mavis talking to? What is she planning? Why do I keep asking questions I don't plan on answering? Any ideas? Let me know! Reviews and feedback are always welcome. Still looking for them songs, so if you recall any, do share!
Until the next update!
xMF
