MEDICAL DISCLAIMER: I am not a licensed medical or psychological professional, nor have I ever had a career in the criminal justice field, unless my stint as a Chaplain for an MP unit counts (No, it really doesn't). I just like to read about a vast variety of topics. Though I did study such courses in college, so I do recall some things.
Lyon answered the door before Loren Bradley had raised his fist to knock. This was to be Gray's first session of Orientation and Mobility training, where he'd learn the skills he'd need to be more independent. Lyon was more excited than Gray, apparently, as he just sat there, swirling his iced coffee around with the tip of his finger. If his theory was correct, then Gray was performing some kind of coping mechanism right now. Could he still be upset from this morning? Still, it was far preferable to the actions he took on the train the other day.
"Please come in. Can I get you anything?" he asked as he took Loren's coat.
"Some of that coffee would do nicely, thank you. Good morning, Gray. How are you feeling today?"
He shrugged, putting his coffee on a side table before gesturing, "Out-freakin-standing. I've had four panic attacks since I got home. The last one was this morning. Apparently I'm afraid of the damn stove."
That wasn't quite an exaggeration. It was actually the sound and scent of frying bacon that had him dry-heaving into the toilet this morning. Lyon added cooking to the list of forbidden acts within Gray's presence, and offered oatmeal and fruit instead. Which he had no appetite for, but choked it down anyway. He had no problem eating meat yesterday, so it wasn't the bacon itself. Just the act of preparing the meat was a trigger. Those pre-made meals were going to come in handy this week. Gray still hadn't gone into the kitchen today.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Though I'm here officially to help you adapt to your blindness, I want to remind you that I'm also a board certified counselor. If you need to talk about anything, I'm more than glad to listen."
"I'll keep you in mind if I feel like having a cry fest. Can we get started?"
"Gray, no need to be coarse with him," Lyon admonished.
"It's quite alright. It's good to let some frustration out. Don't hold back on my account. But if you don't mind, Mr. Vastia, I'd like to do this first session with just the two of us. That is if you're comfortable with that idea, Gray?"
The only sign of tension Lyon saw at the mention of being alone with a more-or-less stranger was Gray's tightly clenched jaw and the stiffness of his posture. But after thinking about it, he nodded once. It's not like he hadn't been alone with him before. Of course, it's also not like he's got a squad of over-protective wizards right outside his door this time, either.
Lyon reluctantly consented, saying he'd go to the guild to keep the rest of his team from getting too curious and barging in on them, and left.
Loren studied his charge. He was wound tight enough to snap, and didn't seem at all interested in starting lessons today. So, he sat down in the recliner adjacent to Gray's armchair and let out a loud sigh, practically melting into it. He made exaggerated motions in an effort to show confidence and comfort in his surroundings. Emotions could be contagious. It's a common device to ease a patient into a sense of calm by displaying your own calmness. No one had confidence in a surgeon who's hands were shaking.
Looking around the room, he tried to get a feel for Gray's personality, but everything, while stylish, was pretty impersonal. No help there. He looked back at his charge. Gray had turned his head towards his direction, a cautious but curious look to his demeanor. He still held himself rigid, but his hands weren't gripping the arms of the chair quite so tightly now. Loren decided it was time to get started.
"Gray, do you know how to attract a squirrel?"
Well that was a weird conversation starter.
Questioning the credentials of his house guest was probably rude, so he held back the retort. He was a little curious where this was going anyway, so...
"How," he gestured.
"You have to act like a nut."
He tried not to, but it was such a stupid joke, in such a tension filled room, that he couldn't help it.
He chuckled.
Loren had never heard a silent laugh before. It was interesting, in his opinion.
Gray's posture loosened, and he slowly leaned back in his chair, easing into the cushion so as not to put too much pressure upon his grafts. "So am I the squirrel or the nut?"
"*Chuckle* I should let you know that very few have asked me that after hearing my riddle. You're a very sharp one indeed. To answer your question, I think life would be boring if we were constrained to being only one or the other. But if you're asking about your mental well being, I don't think your insane. Angry? Frustrated? Troubled? Things you have every right to be. Should be, in fact. There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling. I'd be concerned if you didn't feel these things."
...
...
"... I had a good day yesterday. I had fun, spent time with my friends. The pain wasn't so bad...but..."
"It's normal, and okay, to feel joy sometimes, too. You're going to have these ups and downs. At least your friends are here to help."
"I got pissed off at them on the way home. I don't even know why. They weren't even doing anything, but trying to help. And I was an ungrateful bastard who snapped and scared the crap out of them."
"And they forgave you."
"Of course they did."
"And you feel you don't deserve it?"
...
"Gray, all these feelings are common in trauma victims. I know you don't like that label, but that's what you are. You did nothing wrong. Nothing you did caused your ordeal. Anything you say or do that would be out of character for you will be met with understanding and forgiveness, because your friends will know it's not really you trying to hurt them. But you're also more than that. You're more than a victim. You're a talented ice wizard, regardless of those seals. Your a good friend, a brother, a fighter, a protector. No one lives with just a single label. You're going to overcome this. One day at a time, one action, one word, one thought. Each one building upon the other. Anything broken can be made whole, if you're willing to try to fix it"
"... Where do I start?"
With a warm smile, Loren replied, "In your case, first you learn how to walk in the dark."
-Rune Knights local branch station-
DeWalt met them in the lobby, escorting them passed security before taking them down to the Tombs, the medical examiners' euphemism for the morgue.
Gajeel and Panther Lily were up late last night, talking to DeWalt via lacrima about this case in comparison to the other ones. Juvia, after a day and a half of sulking over missed opportunities, immersed herself in those other cases, under the perception that the sooner they finished, the sooner they could return. At least she was motivated.
She had spent the evening before going over the numerous reports of mysterious animal attacks. The similar wounds on all of the victims were such obvious hallmarks of a potential serial killer, but due to numerous reasons, it took these last two months to establish that fact. The distance between kill sites, the variety of the types of victims, the fact that the numerous local law enforcements all put the crimes down as animal attacks, and the fact that there was no other pattern besides the wounds all made it difficult to put them all together. Until this latest victim: a healthy young man, in a region free from dangerous predators, far from any region that actually had a population of dangerous creatures. Also with the same wound.
Entering the morgue, Gajeel, Panther Lily, and Juvia were introduced to the forensics pathologist, Dr. Lambert.
She got right down to business. "No animal made these wounds. You're looking for a serial killer, and its definitely a mage. Let me show you my findings. I hope none of you are squeamish." Without any other warning, she pulled back the sheet from the latest victim, Sgt. Blair. Gajeel tried his best to ignore the smell, while Panther Lily kept his stern visage as he studied the victim's wound. Juvia kept her calm, though she avoided looking at the body, simply keeping her eyes straight ahead or on the doctor.
"I want you to note how the edges all around the wounds are uneven, ragged. This wasn't made by a sharp-edged tool. There's no patterns consistent with anything serrated either. The biggest clue, though, is the rate and direction of dermal extension." She stooped closer to the ravaged wound, gently pinching and pulling at a flap of skin. Gajeel wanted to excuse himself to find a restroom, but sucked it up and stayed. "Can you see how the skin seems to be stretched all along the would? If you look really closely, you can see that all the edges have stress marks indicating an outward trauma. Isn't that fascinating?" Looking up, she saw everyone, even DeWalt, staring at her wide-eyed at how close she'd put her face to the gaping hole. "Why aren't you looking? I can go over it in more detail if you need help following along. I have extra gloves, too. You should feel this. The textures are a much better give-away than just looking at them."
"Perhaps you could just spoil it for us, and tell us how he died."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Cause of death was extreme shock due to pressure induced internal trauma, followed by rapid exsanguination. What I'm saying is: his guts weren't torn out. They were forced out, from the inside, leading to shock and complete blood loss. Something like this can't be done with any known weapon. Your killer used magic to build up pressure in the victim's abdomen until it exploded outwards."
"That's disgusting. You don't think anything alive came out of there, do you?" asked, Panther Lily.
"Wouldn't that be amazingly scary?! I like where your mind goes! But no. There were no signs of anything physical inhabiting the victim's body cavity," she answered, not ruling out anything magical.
"Humph. Sounds like something you'd be able to do, Juvia." observed Gajeel.
"Excuse me? Juvia would never do something so vile!"
"Difference between 'would' and 'could'. Nobody's pointing fingers. I'm just saying that it's possible someone with skills similar to yours could be the culprit."
"That's true. What if a water mage took over the water in the victims's own body and used it to kill them? It would resemble blood loss, and leave no evidence of the perpetrator, since the victim's own blood would be the weapon," said Panther Lily.
"It sounds like we have enough to start putting together a profile. Anything else, doctor?" asked DeWalt.
"Well, if all those other victims are indeed related, then your killer is moving east."
"You can verify that?"
"I took a look at the kill sites the knights had plotted on the map. I was able to look at photos of the various victims to ascertain probable times of death, and just connected the dots. I'm even willing to bet there are undiscovered victims out there. Some of the times average pretty close together, but if timing is consistent, then there are gaps between some of the killings. I'm no profiler, but to me, timing is just as important to a serial killer as method. If you find anymore victims within these gaps, we can better narrow down the timing of the next killing."
"That's our next step, then," said Gajeel, "What would it take to get some teams out there?"
"We have enough evidence to classify this as a serial case. That gives us unlimited access to resources," answered DeWalt.
"Um, Juvia has a question. If the killer is headed east, where do you think their destination is?"
"I think once we get a timing down, we can possibly plot the next site on the map," suggested Panther Lily.
"Okay. We have a plan," said DeWalt, "Thank you, doctor. I'll need your written report as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I need to inform the Magic Council that we have a deranged serial killer on the loose."
Natsu was brooding. Happy didn't know how to handle a brooding Natsu, so he sat with Lucy, not that she knew what to do with him either, but at least they could be indecisive together. Lyon had arrived a little over an hour ago, and Natsu was disappointed in himself when he was glad Gray wasn't with him. How had things gotten to this point, that he was afraid to face his best friend? They were all seated together, but not much conversation was forthcoming. Erza felt like she'd failed to protect Gray. Lucy felt she should have noticed the danger sooner. Lyon was anxious to get back, thinking that if Gray had another episode, he ought to be there. There was just a big cloud of anxiety hanging over their table.
"*Sigh* This is ridiculous. Natsu, what you did was stupid, but Gray already forgave you. Learn and move on. Lucy, even Master felt responsible for not stopping the fight in time. There really was nothing you could do. And my armor did it's job. No one got hurt. None of us can help the way Gray reacts to certain things. All this guilt is misplaced. It was an accident. We need to move on."
"He's probably afraid of me, now," mumbled Natsu.
"He's not," said Lyon, "any more than he's afraid of the girls. He knows none of you would ever hurt him."
"But I could. We all saw his burns. That's what my magic can do!"
"But it never has. Stop worrying about things that would never happen. You would never hurt him like that. Even I will admit that you have too much control to allow for that to happen," said Erza.
"What about when I did lose control? Huh? Did you forget that fight you interrupted? We could have killed each other that day," he reminded, referring to their battle during the invasion of Alvarez, when they'd both lost themselves to their powers and grief. "What's to stop that from happening again?"
"We will. All our friends would step in to stop any one of us if we ever lost control. But I have faith that we'd never need to," said Lucy.
Natsu still had doubts, but he wasn't one to give up without a fight. He wasn't going to let his fears, or Gray's, define their friendship. They didn't fight off a horde of zombies and pull Gray from the brink of death, just to lose him now. If they were to help him, they'd had to get their own crap together. For the first time today, he sat up and smiled.
And as they all would learn, emotions could be contagious.
"Remember to keep your fingers curled, and only touch the wall with the knuckles of your pinky and ring fingers."
Gray was learning how to walk in a straight line while locating the positions of possible obstacles in his path. He had already gotten a crash course in using his bare feet to determine which room he was in by feeling the textures of the floor. Right now, he was learning how to use walls, furniture, and countertops to move about his home. He had been led around at random, until Loren left him at a wall. He had to orient himself, to figure out exactly where he was. It was harder than it looked.
"I found a doorway. A closet? No, the laundry room," he gestured.
"Good. Now face me. Listen to my voice. That's it. Take two steps forward. Now, very carefully, spin in a circle for five seconds... Good. Now, can you tell me where the kitchen is?"
Gray concentrated. All those directions had left him disoriented. All he knew was that he was on a rug. But there were several rugs in his house. His frustration was growing as a headache began to form. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he recalled what he'd learned so far. He heard bird song from an open window. Which one? He could feel a slight breeze from the same window. There was the sound of leaves rustling. A tree on that side, then. It was either a north or east facing window. Then he heard it.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The clock on the mantle, in front and to the left of him. The window faced his front yard. The kitchen was—
"There," he pointed.
"Very good. Let's take a break. Can you find your chair?"
He reoriented himself, using the clock again for reference. As he stepped forward, he stumbled just a bit, when he brushed against the large ottoman. It didn't bother him, and he sat in his chair, relieved. "I can't believe I'm this tired already," he gestured.
"This is new territory. You're having to concentrate a great deal in order to do something that you could do without thought before. It takes a lot of mental energy to do this. It'll get easier."
Gray just leaned back and rested for a bit.
Loren looked around once more, trying to see what he was missing. Gray should have known that ottoman was there, yet he didn't even slow down as he approached it. Really looking at it, he noticed it wasn't worn at all. A recent purchase, then. That would explain it. He then looked at the couch. It matched the ottoman. So he wasn't used to the couch, either? The recliner he himself sat in right now; not a speck of dust. The leather still smelled new. The rugs. The lamps. The pillows.
Everything in this house was newly purchased.
"Gray, if I may ask, did you redecorate your house recently?"
Without even lifting his head off the back of his chair, he gestured, "My friends threw all my stuff out. Replaced it all and then some. I don't know where anything is anymore."
"That explains why you're having so much trouble with visualization. They did this after you lost your sight? Why would they do that? They must have known how difficult things would be for you..."
Gray didn't answer. Loren could see he was clenching his jaw, his hands fisted. It dawned on him.
"This is where you were attacked."
He was trembling now.
Loren got up from his chair and kneeled before him. Softly, not wanting to startle him, he said, "Gray. Have you talked about this with anyone?"
"...my friends... I remembered...saw everything... They knew before but... I saw, when I came home... He's still here"
"Who? The man who took you? He's in prison."
He shook his head. "With me. He's still here... Always.. I see him...and remember..."
Loren would go into further details about these apparent flashbacks later. For now, he needed to know something more important.
"You told your friends what happened. Have you told them how you feel about it?"
"... They know."
"How?"
'Because they're my friends,' he thought, 'They'd know, wouldn't they?'
He wasn't sure.
...
"Gray, how do you feel about what happened to you here?"
...
...
"... I... I don't..."
"It's okay. I'm not one of your friends, whom you have to protect. But I hope to be a friend to you. Sometimes it's better to tell things to someone who's not so intimately involved with your everyday life."
...
...
"... This isn't... I don't..."
Loren just stayed silent, waiting for him to get it out.
"...the latch was...broken... On the window, the latch... I thought..." he started, gesturing slowly, then more agitatedly, "I was...attacked...in my house...in my own f*cking home!...he came into my HOME! ...this isn't...I... I don't...this isn't my damned home anymore! I don't feel safe here, and...and it pisses me off that...that I'm so afraid...Why the Hell am I so scared! It doesn't make sense! It wasn't like this in the chamber! Yes, I was scared at times, but I could push it aside then... But ever since I woke up... and I'm so tired of... of having to..."
He rested his arms on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. Just trying to calm down, to get his breathing under control.
Loren thought this was good progress. He knew this was something Gray needed to say, not really seeking a response for it. Somethings, it was better to just get it out, no advice needed. But he also knew he'd have to steer this conversation into another direction, or Gray may have another panic attack. And with this knew knowledge, he thought Gray would be open to another aspect of his therapy program.
"Gray, have you considered getting a service dog. They're very helpful in helping the visually impaired become more mobile. It would be a great companion as well."
Gray took a moment to regain his bearing, brushed his hands through his hair before bringing them down, and thought. Then, "I'm in no condition to be taking care of another life right now. I can't even take care of myself."
Loren thought as much, but had hoped. But he understood. In Gray's physical and mental state, taking on the challenge of training with a service animal would be difficult at best, let alone when he'd voiced his own doubts on the matter. For now, basic O and M training would suffice. Still...
"Well, we have another hour to train. I think it's time we do something new." He pulled an object out of his back pocket and placed it in Gray's hand. It felt like four metal sticks, one covered in leather with a cord attached. Gray knew right away what it was.
Resting it on his knees, he gestured, "A cane."
"That's right. You're familiar with it."
"Seen them around...gonna be hard to Gesture while holding this thing."
"That's what the strap's for. You'll figure something out. For now, it's important you learn how to use it. As you've learned so far, it's not as easy as you think."
Gray considered what he wanted to do. He was already so tired. And the headache was back. But the lessons were distracting. Distractions were good. But he was really going to hate that stupid cane.
Taking the cane back in his hands, he slowly stood up, slipping the cord around his wrist. With a quick flick, the cane extended, the four pieces joining together into one long staff.
He nodded his head, ready to begin the next lesson.
By the time Lyon and Team Natsu returned to Gray's house, Loren was waiting patiently on the porch, the front door cracked open to peer inside. Gray was lying face down on the couch, sleeping. It was the reason Loren felt sure he could leave him alone for this talk.
"He looks exhausted. How did he do?" asked Lucy.
"For the O and M training, he did quite well. I'm leaving you with some simple instructions to help him practice. Let him set his own pace, but make sure he uses the cane. He's a little stubborn about that. I'll come out again next week to check his progress, and continue with more lessons. Also, I need to do some more research, so don't tell him just yet, but if I find it feasible, I may have a way for him to learn to read Braille."
'When he feels he's ready,' was Loren's afterthought.
"That would be wonderful. He was pretty disappointed that his injuries were preventing him from doing so. I'm sure all of this will make things easier for him," said Lyon.
"He should gain more confidence as he practices. Just don't move the furniture around and he should do well... Before I leave, if I may give some advice... Let him do things for himself."
"What do you mean?" asked Erza.
"Has he been lashing out in anger, or displaying self doubt or signs of guilt? I'm sure you've witnessed him suffer flashbacks, yes?"
"Yeah, when we brought him home. And on the train, he was upset about something, but..." said Lucy.
Nodding, he continued, "On top of being kidnapped from his own home, he was restrained, physically tied down, for the majority of his ordeal. Being forced to endure the things he experienced, with the added hopelessness of being unable to do anything to stop it, will have had a very strong impact on his psyche. He lost his freedom. His sight and voice were taken. His magic, taken. Even his guild mark, taken. He's lost his sense of security, and he feels like he has no control over anything anymore. He needs you to help him regain that sense of control. Let him do things on his own."
They saw his point, and it made perfect sense. But how would they do that?
"What should we do? He needs help with almost everything," said Natsu.
"Well, so do you. Let him help. Make him useful. He told me he was happy yesterday. What did he do?
"He...was teaching little Asuka-chan how to Gesture Speak," said Lucy, "He looked like he was really enjoying himself."
"He wasn't afraid of her, either. She had him in a bear hug, and he didn't even flinch," added Erza.
"That's perfect. If he's so inclined, give him every opportunity to continue doing so. Anything else he wishes to try, let him. It'll give him a sense of significance that the things he is capable of doing are being acknowledged."
"He's starting to wake up," said Natsu.
"Good day, everyone. I'll see you next week."
They all went inside as Loren left, going about their own tasks. Erza and Lucy went straight to the kitchen to make something for lunch. Lyon went to Gray to let him know who was there. Natsu sat silently, still a little wary around him. Happy hopped on the couch next to Gray, receiving a scratch behind his ears without comment.
"The girls are making lunch. You still look tired. Hard lesson?" Lyon asked.
"Lot to take in. Can't allow my mind to wander. And I'm always tired. Having two drained origins suck. Plus, seeing no light really screws up my sense of time. I thought it was late afternoon already."
"Hmm. We need to get you a watch you can read by touch. Or a clock with an hourly chime."
"The mantle clock can do that. Got annoying, so I turned it off years ago. Guess you can turn it back on."
Lyon got up and did just that. Lucy came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of sandwiches. "Gray, Erza doesn't wanna wash dishes today. Do you have paper plates?"
"In a cupboard in the kitchen."
"Could you help her find them? You know where they are."
?
"Still blind here."
"Please?"
Sighing, he got up and oriented himself before taking a step—
"You should use your cane. It's good practice," suggested Lyon.
Sighing again, he reached for the cane leaning against his chair, saluting as if given orders. He came to the threshold of the kitchen and paused, but felt no heat from the stove. 'Just sandwiches today. No need to cook,' he thought to himself.
Erza was rummaging in the cabinet over the sink, it sounded like. She looked his way when she sensed him at the door. "Gray, good, you can help me find those paper plates, now. Let's hurry. I'm famished," she said.
Quirking an eyebrow, he entered. The refrigerator's compressor came on at that moment, making it easier to visualize its location in relation to the cupboard. Huh. That worked pretty well. He approached the cupboard, merely nodding towards it. Erza turned around, saying, "In there?"
Nod.
She found it, no problem. "Thank you so much. Let's go eat."
Walking passed him, she waited by the door. "You coming?" she spoke, surreptitiously giving him a clue to orient himself again.
Nodding, he turned towards her, having no trouble walking out the kitchen, and using the sounds of his friends chatty voices to find his way to the dining room. He sat in the same spot as always. Consistency. He took what was offered, ate half, and listened to the quiet chatter. Quiet because Natsu was still walking on eggshells.
Natsu had apologized yesterday before he was even awake enough to realize where he was. He'd already forgiven him. What's the big deal? It's not like he'd never been on the receiving end of a dragon roar before.
'It's because you're so delicate and fragile, now. Wouldn't want to break you again,'
'Shut up, brain.'
But the thought did piss him off. He was a wizard of ice, not of glass. But the worst part was that Natsu just wasn't being himself. Like they really needed two traumatized loons on the team. He didn't want his friends to have more reasons to worry about him. Picking up the other half of his sandwich, he took a bite, then got an idea. He knocked twice on the table. Knowing he had everyone's attention, he mouthed, "Natsu," waiting for a response. He needed to zero in on his location.
"Hmm? What?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he got a face full of lunch meat and vegetables.
'What the hell?!' was on all of their minds.
Except Natsu's. He was too mad to think.
"WHAT THE HELL, YOU BASTARD?!"
"Watch your aim next time."
Natsu stopped, catching his meaning. It was like he took another hit to the face, but with a revelation this time. Was that what he needed to snap out of his funk? To get hit back? Because that's the kind of relationship they had. They didn't just apologize. If he gave a punch, he expected to take one back. It's how they worked.
He smiled his biggest grin.
Things were good between them once more.
Awww. They're so adorable when they make up.
Whew! What a relief. A somewhat happy chapter.
And a thank you to my blind friends for helping me with the O and M training, which is a real thing, and is absolutely as exhausting as it sounds.
I wasn't gonna have him learn Braille. Then, on a whim, I started learning Braille. Dang. That's tough. But then I thought, it's not like he can have Lucy read everything to him, and we all know he loves to read. So I may as well give him something to look forward to.
Next chapter: Losing more of himself.