Drabbles Ala' Gruvia

The Waiting Plate

*Inspired by a random comment during a drive with Wolfcry17

The first day he didn't come home, Juvia hadn't worried. She read a book on the small chair he'd bought for her to match his own (on her persistence they have somewhere to sit together), and as his food went cold she realized he'd left on another mission without telling her. It wasn't the first time, of course. Gray had been leaving and returning without notice for well over a month now, short trips and even shorter days at home, all in secrecy.

She hadn't asked at first. He hadn't offered up any answers when she did. Juvia had closed her book and covered his plate of food before placing it in the fridge. It would go bad before he came back, so she would have to eat it tomorrow.

It wasn't that these mysterious missions didn't hurt her; they did. Just when Gray had begun opening up to her, relying on her, just when they were in this happy place together he was pulling away from her again.

When Gray was home, everything was wonderful. They stayed up talking, they trained, he patched the roof to keep the snow and wind out while she stoked the fireplace to keep them warm. He even cooked for them sometimes. And just when Juvia was sure he would not leave again, she would wake up to an empty house and a quickly scrawled note that he had to go and would be back soon.

This time the note just said "Out. Gray."

Juvia bolted the door and headed to her room, watching the snow fall outside the window. It snowed here much more than in Magnolia, large thick flakes that were heavy with the burden of water soaked within them. It was a snow that wasn't sure what it was, a storm or a beautiful glittering miracle that allowed all things beautiful to sleep until spring.

To Juvia, the snow was sadness. When the snow came, her Gray-sama left.

She had waited two weeks before her sadness turned into concern. There were no signs that he had returned home for supplies or a change of clothes; his room was in the same impeccable order it had been when he left and she'd cleaned up after him. There were no small gifts of fresh apples or the pears she liked that he sometimes left when he was passing by but had no time to stay.

It was as if her Gray-sama had disappeared from the face of the earth, blown away in the thickness of the snow.

She waited one more week before the concern had gnawed through her ribs and started to tear at her heart, and Juvia had packed up a bag and decided to try to find him. She left a note, just in case he came home while she was gone. She made a plate of food and placed it in the fridge, making sure he knew it was there. Just in case.

He could come back.

And yet he didn't.

Juvia searched for weeks. She trudged through the chilly winter air, slept in caverns alone, asked around but no one had seen her Gray-sama. She searched through winter and well into spring, leaving a note and a meal for him every time before she left only to find the note still folded on the tabletop and the plate of food molding in the fridge.

The snow turned to rain, and soon it was not just Juvia and Gray's little home that was empty, but the village too. The only movement was that of water on the rooftops and Juvia's feet trudging down the muddied path to the abandoned home she had neglected, knowing somewhere in the depths of her heart that Gray would not be there to greet her.

The rain didn't leave, not this time. Juvia found she didn't have the heart to fight it.

At night, Juvia would leave the door unlocked. Maybe Gray-sama had lost his key?

Maybe he wanted to come back, but he couldn't.

Something terrible had happened to him. Maybe her Gray-sama was dead?

Maybe he ran off with someone else?

Had the dark marks been something to worry about after all?

Drip drip drop. Drip drip drop.

She set down the sewing project she had been working on, glancing out the window as the rain continued to fall. Her garden had died weeks ago; she'd tried to save it by placing a tarp over it, but the ground had become so saturated with water that it had drained all life from the soil. Juvia had cried; Gray had helped her till the ground and chose the vegetables they would grow. He'd helped her pick them when it was time to harvest.

They were happy memories, but Juvia's happiness had been frozen in the snow and now washed down river to someone to deserved it more.

Maybe her Gray-sama hadn't forgiven her for killing his father.

Maybe her Gray-sama had never cared at all.

Maybe he had cared too much. Maybe he had tried to get back to her, and just couldn't.

Juvia was beginning to think that maybe he never would.

She had fallen asleep at the table again; Juvia awoke to the sound of lightning in the distance and the howling of the wind. The rain still fell, but at least it wasn't her rain. Not this time, at least.

Gray's plate sat untouched across from her. Juvia reached and pulled it toward herself. It wasn't any good anymore; the sauce she'd poured over the meat had thickened to a paste, and the rest of the food smelled stale and soured.

Five months. It had been five months since Gray left, five months of searching and worry and fear and now she had no tears left to cry only rain and empty meals and soiled projects and an empty village to keep her company. Juvia stood and tossed the spoiled food in the trash, dropping the dish into the sink. She didn't bother washing it yet; she'd do that when she set out to cook dinner that night. Until then she would sit in the center of town on the bench at the end of the road that led to their house and she would wait.

Waiting. Always waiting. Maybe Gray-sama would never come home, but Juvia would stay anyway. Maybe he didn't need to be found. Maybe she just needed to stay.

Maybe. Always maybe.

No one crossed into the village that day, as always. Juvia was alone, as she had been until Fairy Tail. When Fairy Tail ended, she had for a short while had the happiest time of her life with her Gray-sama.

Now she was alone again. Happiness was but a ripple in the ocean of her life, a brief reprieve before the storm came to swallow everything up. The rain always won.

That night, Juvia set Gray's plate and sat at the table and waited until the limited light that shown beneath the clouds turned to darkness and the darkness turned into midnight. She sat facing the door with its small lantern shining in the window, hoping that tonight at least she would get her answers. If not her Gray-sama, then maybe someone else with news of him. Maybe a friend.

Anyone. Anything.

Her head slumped on the cool surface of the wood and Juvia closed her eyes. She would keep waiting. She would always be waiting, and if Gray ever chose to return to her and the happiness they had shared there would be a plate set for him and a she would greet him with the smile only he could give her.

The lantern was on. It was all he could see through the rain.

The door was unlocked. He paused, heart stopping. He'd been found. Maybe they had always known. Maybe he was too late. Maybe everything he'd done to keep her safe had been everything that was wrong, and he'd open the door and find her lost.

But he needed to know. He pushed the door open and crossed the threshold.

The house was dark except for the dying embers of a candle on the table, reflecting the sapphire hues of her hair as she slept. Gray stopped just before the door would have creaked and took in the sight of her, one arm reaching toward a full plate of food that should have been put away hours ago. The house was as he remembered except for the lived in feel of her handpicked flowers and stacks of books. The floor was wet. She was still fully dressed.

How many nights had she waited up for him like this?

Guilt was nothing new to Gray, but the feeling in his chest was new—a mixture of guilt and responsibility. He had not meant to be gone so long. He hadn't meant to bring back the rain. There were many things he hadn't meant to do and they all went back to her and the fact that at one point he had a choice, but now he had none.

He could have told Erza no.

He could have told Juvia anyway.

He could have forced them to stop this mission, to make an example of Avatar instead of trying to sniff out the rest of the Zeref fanatics. They weren't that strong.

The only thing that kept him in this secrecy was her. Gray knew she would find him and follow him and he wouldn't be able to play the villain with her in the crossfire. Juvia was not a weakness but she was the one thing that could make him fall apart, the one thing that could break the mission apart, and he'd already dedicated himself to seeing this out.

To find out about END. To do what he promised his father. To create the future he needed to ensure before he could give her what she deserved.

But Gray knew they were just excuses. Juvia hadn't deserved any of this.

With deft fingers and light hands, he picked up the plate and began to eat.

She felt warm.

Juvia shifted in bed, finding the smell of the pillow and sheets comforting. They smelled of Gray and the soap he'd always used. Her blankets smelled nothing like this. Her bed was softer, except that she hadn't fallen asleep in her bed last night. She'd fallen asleep at the table.

Gray-sama?

She shot up in the bed, rubbing away at the drowsiness in her eyes to focus. Gray's room came into focus. Had she slept walked into his room? The entire time Gray had been gone, Juvia had never once stepped foot in his room. It was his. She didn't belong in there anymore, touching the things he'd left behind along with her. He would come for them one day.

Her bare feet hit the floor and Juvia remembered she had not been barefooted last night. Nor had she been sleeping in one of Gray's shirts.

Heart pounding, she got up and ran to the door, pulling it open with a hope and fear that battled to regain her sanity. He had been gone for five months, why would he come back now? Would he be sitting on the chair, waiting for her to wake up?

Once she'd made it into the main part of the house, Juvia realized that he wasn't there at all—but the evidence was everywhere that he had been, at least for a little while, somewhere near her.

His plate was empty and still sitting on the table.

Her clothes were folded neatly on the chair she remembered falling asleep on, her boots stored by the door.

She was wearing his clothes; how could she have possibly slept through him changing her?

He had put her in bed. His bed.

And on her side of the table lay a plate with four pieces of toast topped with butter and jam. An offering. An apology.

A promise.

Her Gray-sama had come home. He would come home again.

It wasn't enough to stop the rain. It wasn't enough to keep her from falling to her knees and crying.

It wasn't enough for a lot of things, but it was enough to make her hope. He'd come back to this place, their home. He would come back to her. She would just have to keep waiting.