It's Monday! And we've reached the half-way point in this story. Last week, we got Lucy's perspective as she waits for the wedding. Let's catch up with Gray and see what he's been up to since their separation.

Possible trigger warning for this chapter: violence and torture ahead. Nothing super graphic, and well within the bounds of the T rating (you've seen my writing; my stuff is typically pretty tame), but everyone's health and well-being is important to me, so I figured I'd point it out, just to be safe. Read mindfully, or possibly give this chapter a skip if you have concerns. There'll be enough summary at the top of the A/N in upcoming chapters that you won't miss out.

Irina: I love Lucy, but we are talking about the same girl who didn't recognize her long-lost love because he was covering his face. As for Gray... read on (and root for him, because he needs it)! Thanks again!

- K. Chandler


Gray watched as Lucy got on the back of Laxus' horse. The prince's steward stayed behind.

"Shall we get you back to your ship?" asked the steward.

Gray resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have the world's worst poker face?" asked Gray.

He was unsurprised when the prince's steward struck him over the head, leaving him in darkness.

When Gray came to, he was still surrounded by darkness. There was a hard surface under his back. Something dug into his wrists. Raising one slightly, Gray could hear the clank of metal as something weighed down his arm.

It seemed like he had been shackled, with a thick chain tethering him to the table to keep him from moving. How pointless was that? His head ached, his side throbbed, and his arm burned, though his hand had gone numb. Sure, he could still walk, probably, since there was nothing wrong with his legs, but it wasn't like he was going to go anywhere fast. Being tied down felt a little like overkill.

As Gray's eyes adjusted, he could see the outline of a hunched, little creature with a wild mane and horns. At first, Gray thought he was dreaming, or maybe hallucinating. But then, he realized that the person was just wearing some sort of tribal mask made of brightly painted wood.

"He's awake," warbled the little man, hobbling toward the table.

"Who are you?" mumbled Gray, his voice shot from disuse.

"No one," said the little man. He raised a glassy orb in both hands, passing it over Gray slowly. The orb began to glow.

"Where am I?" asked Gray.

"This is the Tower of Heaven."

Gray felt a prickling down his side. It reminded him tiny bugs crawling up and down his bare skin. What was that? He suppressed a shudder, not wanting to give this man the satisfaction of watching him squirm. The prickling intensified into a tingling, like the legion of insects was marching just beneath his skin. It was all he could do not to whimper.

"What are you—?"

"Healing you. Hush."

"Healing me? Why?" asked Gray.

"You talk too much," the little man commented. "Don't ask so many questions."

Gray bit back a grunt as his muscles started twitching and pulsing over broken bones, coaxing them back into alignment. He let out a shuddering breath as the ribs knit beneath his skin, turning the roaring pain to a dull ache before it went away entirely.

Then, his arm started to prickle and crawl, just like his side had. Gray tried to ignore the sensation.

"I'm assuming you're going to kill me," said Gray. "Then, why heal me?"

"Master Jellal wants you in one piece for the finale."

"Who's Jellal? What finale?" demanded Gray, gritting his teeth as his broken arm righted itself, the fractured ends grinding over one another before slipping back into place as the bone made itself whole.

"Finished," said the little man.

Gray struggled against his bonds, noting the clink of chain links as he did so. He was still tired, weak, and more than a little sore, but at least he wasn't injured anymore. This was probably the best chance he'd have at escape. It wasn't ideal, but he'd take whatever he could get.

Besides, the little man was half his size. Gray could probably overpower him, if it came down to it. He just had to free himself from the restraints.

Of course, nothing would ever be that simple.

Gray heard something from behind him. It sounded like something heavy scraping across the floor. A door maybe? It shut with a slam. His odds of escape had just dropped dramatically.

Strapped to the table, Gray couldn't see what the newcomer looked like. But if he arched his neck just right, he could just make out a tall, thin figure in his peripheral.

"How's the prisoner?" asked the newcomer, his voice stiff, distant, and oddly familiar. This person seemed to be in charge. Was he the warden of this prison?

"All yours," said the little man. "I'm finished."

"Thank you, Zalty," said the warden.

Gray frowned. Where had he heard that voice before?

"My pleasure," growled the little man, Zalty. "But now it's your turn."

His turn? His turn for what? Gray kept quiet, trying to figure out what their intentions were.

"But I thought Jellal wanted him," said the warden.

"Not yet. He's yours to do with as you see fit," said Zalty. "As long as you don't kill him. Master Jellal wants him in one piece."

"Why doesn't Jellal just take him now?" asked the warden.

"It isn't time yet," said Zalty. "The machine isn't ready. But I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun until then."

"Zalty…" began the warden. He sounded conflicted, his hands teetering like the trays on a balance scale.

"This man needs to be made to confess his crimes," insisted Zalty. "Remember. This man kidnapped the princess."

"I was the one who—"

"That makes him a threat to the prince."

"…You're right."

"Every piece of information you tear from him is something else that might help Prince Laxus and the Kingdom of Fiore."

"And for Prince Laxus, there's nothing I wouldn't do," declared the warden softly.

"Well said. Laxus is lucky to have someone like you at his side. Hold nothing back," Zalty laughed, bouncing away in the darkness.

The door scrapped again before slamming shut.

With a creek and a clank, the table that Gray was lying on tilted, levering him upright. But gravity jerked him downwards, leaving him to dangle by the wrists, his feet barely touching the ground. And he found himself face-to-face with someone he never wanted to see again.

"It's you again," said Gray. "You're the guy from before." He kicked, swinging from his shackles, ignoring the way they dug into his wrist.

"I am the prince's personal steward. It might be more accurate to say I'm the castle's major domo. You may call me Freed."

"Ironic," said Gray.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're probably wondering what you're doing here," said Freed.

"I already know you're not going to kill me," he said. "The little rat-man said as much."

"Death's too good for the likes of you."

"And what would you know about the likes of me?" said Gray. He wondered if he was going to get punished for the crimes of all the Captain Silvers past.

"Admit it. You kidnapped the princess."

"Don't think so," said Gray. "I didn't do it, and I'm not about to say I did."

"Pain!" shouted Freed, bringing his arm down in a sweeping gesture.

"What's that sup—!" Gray bit back a cry as every organ in his body twisted at once.

"You're from Sabertooth," accused Freed.

"Wrong again. You're really—!" Gray cut himself off, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep from crying out. It felt like someone was digging around his insides with a hot poker.

"Let's try this again. Who is your employer? Is it Sabertooth?"

"No. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm—" Gray couldn't keep from screaming this time. He swore, writhing against his bonds. It felt like something inside him had burst. "I'm not. I'm not! I told you already!"

"Liar!" roared Freed, gesturing in the air again.

Pure white-hot agony erupted.

"Stop! Just stop!" Gray cried.

"Admit it."

Gray just whimpered, shaking his head. Was he dying? It felt like it.

That was when Gray realized that he had been crying.

"I see this is going nowhere," said Freed taking a step back. He sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. Then he turned and exited the room.

And for some time, there was nothing. Gray wasn't sure how long Freed had left him there alone. He needed to escape. He needed to get away. But he just couldn't. He hurt too much.

But he couldn't just give up either.

When the door opened again, Gray realized he was too late. Freed was back, accompanied by Zalty.

"Fix him," said Freed dully.

"Of course," said Zalty. "Did you get a confession out of him?" he asked, readying the glass orb that he had carried earlier.

"We'll have to try again," said Freed.

"That's not a problem," said Zalty. "You know that I can heal him as many times as you need."

"I don't enjoy doing this," said Freed.

"But it's for the good of the kingdom and the prince."

"Yes, I'm aware," said Freed. "Are you finished?"

"All done."

"Let's start again."

Gray didn't know how long Freed kept him there. Abusing him until he bled, until he blacked out, until he broke. Healing him. Breaking him again.

But Gray held on, with one thought in his mind. Even when he didn't have the strength to hold his own head up anymore, there was one thing that could kept him going.

"Lucy," he whispered. He'd get through this. For her. For his Lucy.


Any moment now, she'd hear back from Gray. Laxus' ship would come into port with a letter that said that he was on the way. Or better yet, he'd come back on Laxus' ship. He'd come sweeping into the castle and scoop her up in his arms. Then he'd take her away to start that life they'd always wanted.

Where would they go? What would they do?

Lucy didn't care. She'd even happily return to the turnip farm.

As long as she was with Gray, it would be all right.

The wedding was tomorrow.

Lucy smiled. It didn't matter. Gray would never let that happen. He would save her.

"Have we heard from Gray?" she asked, all but skipping into Laxus' study.

"Ah, Lucy," said Laxus. "I have something important to discuss with you."

"Is it about Gray?" asked Lucy.

"It's about our honeymoon," said Laxus. "Every ship in my armada is ready to take us on a voyage to remember."

"Every ship? I thought you sent your four fastest ships to deliver my letter," accused Lucy.

"…Of course, I did," said Laxus. "I meant every ship that's not currently in port. The ones that are already at sea won't be available, obviously."

Lucy's eyes narrowed. "You didn't, did you? You lied. You didn't send my letter."

"Lucy, what are you saying? Of course, I did," said Laxus. "Would I lie to you?"

"I wonder," said Lucy.

"Cheer up," said Laxus, sounding almost friendly. "The wedding is still a whole day away."

The wedding was only a day away. She was running out of time.

"Gray will come for me," she insisted, though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince herself or Laxus.


Zalty had healed him earlier that morning, so Gray knew what was coming. Though he was well-rehearsed to the painful idea, it didn't make it any more comforting.

Gray heard the door of the chamber creak open.

"Are you going to wise up to the fact that I don't have an answer?" deadpanned Gray. "Or are you going to rearrange my insides again?"

"Neither, though that can be arranged," responded a smooth, oily voice… one that definitely wasn't Freed.

Gray struggled against his bonds to see his new tormentor, surprised to see a mild-mannered man with a red mark over his right eye. Zalty followed behind him.

"Zalty, ready the machine," the man commanded.

"At once, Master Jellal," said Zalty.

Zalty tottered across the room, opening a hidden panel. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned pushing a menacing device with wheels and cogs and levers and pulleys.

Carefully, the device was wheeled into the center of the room and pushed in front of Gray, with what looked like the barrel of a cannon pointed towards his chest.

"Y'know, if you blow a hole through me, there might be nothing left for Zalty to heal," warned Gray. "Just sayin'." Hovering between health and the brink of death on a daily basis during his time in captivity had brought out the morbid side of his humor.

"Who says anything's coming out of the machine?" asked Jellal, his tone a mockery of sympathy.

He flipped one of the switches, sending the machine to life with a rumble.

Gray gasped. It felt like he had been plunged into ice. Or maybe it was fire. He couldn't tell, but it hurt. It hurt…

Despite his gritted teeth, a scream of agony tore from Gray's throat. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, but he knew what was happening. Gray could feel the machine leeching at his magic.

Gray's back arched as his magic was stolen. He hadn't been a magic user for long, but it had become such an integral part of him. It felt like his very soul was being ripped from his body.

Then, sweet relief.

The machine ground to a halt.

Gray went limp, gasping for breath. "What…? What… was that?" Gray mumbled, sweat dripping off his face sluggishly.

"That was a 3," mused Jellal. His hand moved towards the machine.

"What… does that… mean?"

"It's a setting on the magic extractor," said Jellal idly. "Normal people should last for days on 3. Actually, there's no reason why a healthy person couldn't last indefinitely at this level, assuming their magic should regenerate quickly enough."

Indefinitely?

Gray couldn't imagine being in that much pain for days. Would he get used to it? Or would it the agony remain?

"But at a 3, it would take months to harvest enough magic," said Jellal. "If we cranked it up to a 5 or 6, it would definitely be faster."

The extractor machine turned back on with a whirr.

Searing, white agony.

Hot or cold, Gray knew not. He felt like he had been plunged into a vat of molten lava. Or was it icy water? He couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream. Yet, he was screaming, the awful sound filling his ears.

The pain stopped.

Gray blinked in surprise.

Jellal was nodding to himself. "A 5 or 6 would get us there in half the time. I'm just not sure how long you'd survive under those conditions. I'm sure you can help me figure it out."

Freed had been asked to keep him alive, but Jellal had no such restrictions.

He was as good as dead.

"Why…?" gasped Gray, trying to make the brief respite to its fullest. "Why are you doing this?"

"Your magic will power this machine of mine," smiled Jellal. "Do you know what I could do with that much magic power?" he asked.

Gray smirked weakly. "Disappear?" he hissed.

"That attitude of yours is going to get you in trouble someday," said Jellal. "Scratch that. Make that today."

On went the machine. Gray writhed against the chains.

This was a thousand times worse than anything that Freed had done to him. No physical pain could touch the burning that consumed him.

What was worse, was that he couldn't save Lucy. He couldn't even save himself. He was as good as dead.

No, he was better off dead.

Anything to end the pain.

Gray sagged as the Jellal turned the machine off. He could feel the shackles digging into his raw wrists, though his hands, themselves, had gone numb.

"And once that fool Laxus finally goes to war with Sabertooth," continued Jellal. "All of his prisoners will be mine for the taking. With the greatest mages in Sabertooth at my disposal, I will have an unlimited supply of magic power to harvest."

"You're disgusting," rasped Gray, his voice hoarse from screaming.

He was antagonizing Jellal, and he knew it. But he didn't care anymore. He was never escaping. What was the worst that Jellal could do? Have him killed?

Death couldn't come soon enough.

"I've been called worse," said Jellal.

"I figured that. Where'd you get that seal over your eye?" asked Gray, trying again.

"What's it to you?" asked Jellal mildly.

"You know, there's this psycho red-head looking for you," croaked Gray. "She's got a vendetta."

"What?"

"You do this to her too? No wonder she likes ya," deadpanned Gray.

Gray smirked as Jellal's jaw tightened, his face twisting into a mask of rage.

Sorry, Lucy…

Gray heard the ratcheting sound as Jellal flung the switch all the way up to its maximum setting. Pain seared through his body.

Gray barely registered the slam of the door as Jellal exited.


Whoa. That was a tough chapter to write. Poor Gray... Aside from beating up on Gray , I struggled with where to take this chapter. Hopefully this serves to appropriately raise the stakes.

And if Freed as a torturer has you scratching your head, think back to the Battle of Fairy Tail arc. That Freed (who was absolutely Laxus' yes-man) was who I had in mind.

Next time, in As You Wish, our augmented Team Natsu returns: "Guys, you'll never guess what I heard! Where's Erza?" asked Natsu.

Stop back next Monday for the next installment, or just follow me, Karine of R011ingThunder.