Her voice was soft, melodious, peaceful. There was nothing monstrous about that voice, as some among them had come to expect.

But the name she'd called. Those closest to Gray knew whom she had mistaken him for. As the word she'd incredulously uttered broke them out of their amazement, everyone turned their eyes towards Gray, and their faces fell.

He stood rigid, frozen in terror, hands fisted as he tried to hold on to his composure.

Because that voice, that gentle, painfully familiar voice, that which his friends found so soothing … it was Hers.

It was sickening how soft and gentle she made herself sound. Her words didn't correspond with the tone of her voice at all. But the tone ... the gentleness, and warmth …

The woman, Gray's mom, made to approach, but stopped after having more time to really look at the man before her. He did indeed look like her husband, but he wasn't as tall, and he was leaner. She had the impression that the clothes he wore were once a better fit, but he'd lost weight since he'd first bought them.

His face, though, held Silver's features in an uncanny way. But stranger still, she saw her own face as well. In that moment, beyond all reason or logic, regardless of the likelihood that such an opportunity should never have been given to her, she knew who this man was. And her heart instantly filled with joy, tinged with grief.

" ... Gray? Is that really you? Are you really my baby boy? Oh my blessed Lord, you look just like your father when he was younger," she tearfully observed.

"Oh, my poor little man. I'm afraid he has everything to do with this. He's the reason you're here now. He taught you so many awful things. What kind of man would raise such a foul-mouthed, filthy boy like you?

She couldn't have known what the very sound of her voice was doing to him. He thought he could have stood firm. He thought he could keep the warring images in his head separated, and acknowledge this person before him as his real mom. But that was the problem. The other one, that demonic, nightmarish entity, had become his real mom.

Up until the spell was activated, he had been as strong as he thought possible. But that brief incident with the wandering souls had cost him. He'd lost his focus, and with it, his courage and strength. His mind was already in a state of panic, and he'd been left with no time to rally himself. He was already caught chest deep in the flood waters, and a huge wave was cresting over him. He couldn't escape. He couldn't fight the current that threatened to drag him under.

"It is you. You're grown so much, but I can see my baby boy in the man you've become. But what's wrong? What happened? I don't understand how I could be here. Why do you look so scared? And sad?"

He gasped as his body trembled more, a sheen of sweat appearing. His breaths became quick and shallow, more so when he could perceive the manifested soul coming closer as she spoke.

"Do you understand now the pain your father had caused? It's his fault you're here, his fault that you're suffering. It's his sins you're paying for!"

His mother, Mika, was amazed, filled with curiosity and awestruck by the magic taking place, such powerful forces, the beauty and wonder of simply being here; but all of that and more was easily put aside when she saw the state of her son. Regardless of the amazing feat she was witnessing, was even a part of, the only thing she could focus on was the very obvious pain he was in.

As she tried to approach, asking again what was wrong, she watched as his eyes, which she now noticed were deeply scarred and no doubt sightless, grew wide with even more fear. Her own sadness grew. Her pace was slow, hesitant, as she saw him raise trembling hands, placing the edge of one held with his fingers loosely extended on top of the open palm of his other.

"Stop!"

The voice came from a young white-haired man who stood close by. But she instinctively knew it was her son who had spoken. She stayed where she was, unsure of what to do. Looking at his hands, she was shocked once more at seeing them so mangled and abused, and would have voiced her dismay, had she not caught a light reflecting off the pendant she now saw dangling from his wrist.

Hands to her mouth, she felt a small relieved joy that he'd kept his father's necklace after all these years, that it seemed to be something he held dearly. But that relief did little to assuage her concern at his obvious distress.

"Please. Somebody tell me what's going on. Look at him! Look at my son! He's in so much pain! Why aren't you helping him?!"

"You mean you don't know?!" asked an incredulous young woman with blond hair.

"No! The last thing I remember was the attack on our village … our home. To me, it seems like a distant memory, and I feel like I've slept for so long. Gray, please. Say something. Tell me what's wrong!"

It pressed down further, and harshly twisted the rag.

Light exploded behind his eyes. He screamed in agony, body going rigid, trying to get away, chest heaving as he tried to take in air, the burns on his back pressing into the grating. Mercifully, he passed out again.

He hadn't made a sound.

Levy wondered if her being a mere fragment of her soul had anything to do with her lack of knowledge of what had happened. Arius had only needed enough of her soul to make her zombie version more convincing. But this was a good thing. Wonderful, even. This meant that Gray's mom had had no real part in his ordeal. She hadn't been forced to sit back and watch as her son was tortured by her hands. That's something at least, and she hoped Gray would be able to gain some solace in that.

Now she wondered how much the rest of her soul was aware of. Milky Way wouldn't work on souls that had passed on into Heaven. Soon, the fragment they had would join the rest of its soul, to be with Gray's father. Would she take with her the memories of this encounter? Was the rest of her even aware of what had been happening? This tiny fragment, even though in the possession of that evil man, held no memories of her time with him. Who could tell what the rest of her knew?

Maybe it was ignorant of them to have assumed she would've remembered what had happened, and would understand why she'd been summoned. They should have anticipated having to explain it all. But having to force Gray to relive it as well?

"He can't speak," said another young man, this one well dressed, wearing light colored sunglasses, "I know you're confused, and I can see you're worried about him, but we don't have a lot of time. Even less so than we'd originally planned for. I'll try to explain quickly."

Which he did, starting with a very abbreviated recap of her son's kidnapping and near death at the hands of her husband's enemy, of the injuries he'd suffered, and the emotional pain he'd endured since then. Her heart broke, and she wanted to weep in pain and anger upon learning of "her" role in her son's torture. But she was too fixated on how Gray was reacting to the man's words. He seemed to shrink in on himself as he wrapped his arms around his chest, turning his face downward to avoid eye contact? She wanted so greatly to go to him, but after learning of what happened …

" ... I didn't know. That demon came, and you were in danger … I thought you'd be safe. That Silver would protect you. In that final moment of life, my last thought was that at least you two had each other … and now I'm here. And I found out that … that you were alone. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. That I couldn't protect you."

"And your father did nothing to protect you. He left you. Abandoned you. All alone. A broken boy in a broken village."

"So you all summoned me here so we could meet one more time? This is just … so much to take in. I don't know what to say. Gray … my precious Gray … My heart aches so much for what you went through. But you're so brave to be able to do this, to face your fears … I'm so sorry it's me you're having to face—"

"—Bicks! You alright?!"

Everyone's attention was drawn towards Laxus' sudden shout of concern. To their dismay, they found Bickslow looking pained, grimacing at his trembling hands as the many lights that made up the glowing orb became less bound to each other. They were trying to separate, to escape his hold, still lured to the intense magic that called to them.

"I've got this! Keep going. As long as Wendy can hold the spell, I can hold out, too!" he answered, determined to prove his words true.

Mika now saw the urgency. "We don't have a lot of time. Please, whatever pain you're holding onto, you need to let it go!"

"It's vital that you understand, you're here because of your rat of a father. We have to purge every bit of him from you. It's time to let go."

He was becoming lost among the chaos all around him. The competing powers flowing from Wendy and Bicklow; the howling, otherworldly winds; the constant, scattered fragments of unwanted, unbiddened memories trying to tear him down; but most of all, the sound of her voice. So much like that of the creature in the chamber, and from his nightmares. Having no memories of her voice from his childhood, he had no way to compare, no way to know if this truly was his real mom, or just another illusion, or the imposter itself.

"I understand the thing that hurt you looked like me. But you know I would never have done that to you. It wasn't me. That thing wasn't me! You have to believe that!"

Loke saw a flaw in this endeavor, and the realization of its magnitude was becoming more and more evident. Gray had told himself, countless times, exactly what his mom was telling him now, and he still had trouble believing it. How could he believe these words coming from the person who had hurt him so deeply? One by one, the others were coming to realize this truth as well.

"I know it's hard, but you can't let the anger and bitterness rule over you. I wish we had more time, so I can say all that needs to be said. But I'm not even sure what to say to all of this. You went through so much, and I don't even have time to take it all in. I could never have enough time, even given an eternity, to understand all the pain you've gone through."

She was thinking desperately on what to say, but given so little time, what could she possibly tell him that could ease so much suffering? What would she do? What would Silver had done? ... She knows what he would have done. It was one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him. His strength of character was beyond compare. If only they'd taken the time to pass this important lesson onto their son when he was younger, when they'd had time. But never had they thought they'd run out of it. Just as she was losing that time now. She couldn't waste what little she had trying to explain why this was the only way. She could only show him the path, and hope and pray he'd be able to bring himself to follow it.

"I know you have every reason to hate me, and to doubt my every word, but please, listen to me and take this to heart: You need to forgive what happened. It's the only way you can be free!"

Natsu felt incredulous. Gray needed to forgive that bastard?! What the Hell kind of advice was that?! How could anyone possibly forgive such a shitstorm of wrongs like what Arius did to him?

Gray couldn't do this. He wasn't strong enough. He wanted this to end. He needed it to. Shaking his head, he brought his hands up, trying but failing to cover his ears with his mangled hands, crying out desperately for them all to stop.

"Stop … Please, stop! ... No more! ... *sob* I don't want to do this anymore … Make her go away! Please! Send her away! ..."

Mika couldn't watch this. She couldn't stand seeing her baby boy suffer anymore. She didn't need the gentleman in the suit to tell her what her son was saying. His manner and actions spoke for themselves.

"Please … let me go."

Everyone, so focused on their friend's turmoil, turned their gazes at his mom's quiet plea.

"He's so upset. And I'm only making him worse. I can't help him. I'm only hurting him more. Please. Don't make him suffer through this anymore. Whatever you thought he would gain from meeting me again, it's not working. I don't want to see my son in so much pain. I can't stand that I'm the cause. I'm begging you, don't let me hurt him anymore!" she cried out desperately, with so much sorrow and remorse.

Though all her concentration was on the implementation of the spell, Wendy still heard all that was being said around her. She was disappointed, but understood. With great regret, and guilt at having been the one to force Gray into this heartache, she readied herself to release the spell—

CLAP!

All attempts at ending the spell halted, as everyone looked towards the source of that loud, yet muffle, clap. There stood Gray, hands still together, still shaking almost violently, and breathing heavily. His eyes were closed tightly, and Natsu tensed at the scent of blood he could just barely catch from his hands. Slowly, he lowered his arms to his sides, and tried to regain some sort of control, hands fisted once more as a small amount of blood dropped from one of them.

Why had he stopped them? In another moment, this waking nightmare would have ended. And he would have been fine with that. This would have been just one more painful memory to add to all the others, and everyone else would have been content with the fact that they'd at least made the attempt. One minute ago, he was determined to stop it all, ready and willing to shut himself away from that voice, through any means necessary.

One minute ago, she was a monster. A vestige of many sleepless nights and terror filled dreams, of horrid visions and stolen or bastardized memories, of painfully denied yearnings for a return to times before his life had endured this great upheaval. This cursed being had cost him his very self. As often as he'd cried out against the spoken and unspoken accusations of him not being "Gray", there was no denying some small truth to them all.

One minute ago, he was at his breaking point, and was about to give in to the many urges to surrender to despair, and force himself to drift as deeply and as far away as he could possibly go. He was done. Let his friends worry. Let them lament their failures, and cry over him, and use desperate means to bring him back from the brink again. He probably wouldn't have even put up a fight. But he wouldn't have fought to please them anymore, either. They'd be welcome to try to bring him back, but would he have been easy to find? This never ending performance was reaching its conclusion, and he was finally ready to bow out.

One minute ago, he was retreating, ready to leave them all behind, ready to shut down.

But then he'd heard something within that haunting voice that he'd never heard from his torturer: Sadness, pain … and love.

It had begged them to stop. No. Not it. She had begged them. She had pleaded for them to end this torment, to stop making her an instrument of his anguish. She had seen the pain, the agony he was going through, and had offered up what she must have felt was her one and only opportunity to reunite with her long lost child, just for his sake. She had been willing to trade literally everything she had in this world for him. The monster of his nightmares had never done such things for him.

But his mom had.

His real mom.

'No! I hate HER! I'm scared to death of HER. My mom ... My REAL MOM! ...'

He was still shaking, still on the edge of an encroaching darkness threatening to swallow him whole. He couldn't move. But he knew he wasn't alone with this manifestation. He could do this. He had no other choice now. He'd gone through so much, put his friends through so much. They'd only done all of this to help him. He had to see this through.

"I don't know what to believe. I don't … I … can't …

…

She tried to approach again, a soft whisper of his name on her lips.

"Don't!" he pleaded.

She stopped, saddened by his apparent inability to accept her still, but knowing he had every cause to reject her.

"Who are you? I know who they say you are, and whom you claim to be … but … I don't know how I can be sure … that you're not just another ghost from a nightmare … an illusion created by my f*cked up brain … or even the one who … who …

…

He struggled through a strained breath, then another, trying to keep a sob at bay, before he continued.

" ... If you really are her … there's so much I want to say … so much … so much anger … and hate … that I need to …

…

…

" ... But if you were really her, I couldn't … You … you don't deserve that … that rage … but … but you are her! And she was you! And I can never forget what she did … what you did! ... and … and—"

She could see a deeply rooted conflict within him, and understood just a little of what must have tormented him for all this time. And when he stopped speaking, at least she assumed he had, though it was hard to tell with his head down, his hands covering his eyes; she cried with him, and anguished over her inability to comfort him.

"Gray," came the voice of the one who spoke for her son, "I can't read your words … "

So he had been talking. But what was he saying, that he tried to hide his words from everyone? He'd said she didn't deserve the rage …

…

!

…

But perhaps the rage is what she needed to receive, if it would help him …

Not sure how prepared she was, but knowing by the strain she could see in his friends, as they tried to maintain their spells, that time was running out, she stepped just a bit closer. She could tell she'd approached too close for his comfort, but maybe that would work in their favor. Let him get mad. She would take his anger, if he'd be willing to release it to her. Not giving herself a chance to change her mind, she began.

"You heard your friend. Speak up, so we can all hear."

"Don't be stubborn. You know what happened last time …"

It brought its other hand up, and laid it over the scratchy rag, pressing down ...

She saw him tense, and wondered already if she had chosen the wrong strategy, if she was being too harsh. She was completely outside her element, having no clue of how her now-grown son responded to certain motivations compared to the boy she remembered. But even in his fragile state, she couldn't see him as one who needed to be handled like a delicate piece of porcelain. And even as she was second guessing her use of a stern rebuke, she could see some defiance in his demeanor. That was the tough, precocious, stubborn little boy she knew Silver and she had raised.

If only they didn't have to be so urgent. But she had to hurry this along.

She took another step forward.

He stumbled back a step, but steadied himself, lowering his stance, spreading his feet just a little, though none could tell if he was readying to fight or flee. The look on his face was a mix of anger and fear, and it was hard to tell which emotion dominated the other.

"Come on. You just told me you had something to say. So say it. What are you waiting for?" ... 'Please, Gray. There's so little time' ... "Just get it out. I thought we taught you to be strong. Your father … didn't raise a coward!"

"If your father had done a better job of raising you … He was a coward, who hunted down demons and beasts without mercy! ... He was a monster!"

She saw more of Silver in his face right then, and was almost taken aback at how similar they looked when they were both challenged to prove themselves. He really was his father's son, and she was happy to see that spark of life there.

"Don't use your lack of voice as an excuse! You're a guild wizard now, aren't you? I never thought a guild wizard would allow himself to become so weak. Is there really a place for you here?!"

She'd expected him to fight back, but was discouraged to see his look of shocked disbelief at what she'd just said. Then doubt.

"This foolish belief in them is hindering your progress. So we're going to remove that obstacle now. It's time for you to separate yourself from that awful guild."

That had been the wrong move, and Mika panicked. That defiance she'd seen was wavering. What was she missing?

"... the guild ... is my family ... Not you ... Never you!"

" ... Such ingratitude." It plunged its arm down, the scalpel clutched in its fingers digging deep.

He suddenly gasped, quickly placing his hand over his heart as if in pain. Was it real or imagined? It could be true in either sense. But no, not quite over his heart, but to the side of it. It was then Mika recalled the horror she'd felt upon learning of the horrid injury he'd suffered there. His guild mark. Of course. She understood what grieved him now. Had she gone too far?

Whatever Gray was feeling, his friends likely felt the same in varying degrees. Filled with fierce anger on his behalf at those horrid words, some of them turned their gazes towards his mother, ready to defend him, when Lyon and Loke both sent silent signals to let it be. Being so close to the action, they could see the woman's face, see the sadness in her features. They knew what she was trying to do. While Loke stayed focused on Gray, Lyon Gestured to Lucy his observations, which she then relayed to Natsu and the others.

Placated, they each stood down. But it took a great deal of will power to allow the abuse to continue, and to watch Gray's demeanor falter more and more.

But still, what a twisted fate they'd found themselves in: Relying on this one chance meeting to erase the many months of suffering Gray had endured? A foolish thought. Childish even. But they'd always understood this was only the first step, a vital step, towards helping him regain something of himself that could only come about by defeating this demon first.

As she watched, Mika could tell with the certainty only a mother could have that her little boy was breaking. She could only hope he wouldn't do so in such a way that he'd be unable to be put back together afterwards. As doubt tried to creep in at that thought, she determined that it was too late to fall back now. Some of her words were working in their favor, while others were working against them. This was the gamble she'd chosen, and she had to believe in the faith he and all of his friends had put in her, in choosing her as the means to help Gray face his past traumas. Just as she had to believe his friends would pick up the pieces when she was gone.

And Gray? He was in a maelstrom, pulled in so many directions, he could hardly acknowledge one sensation before being forced into the next. Was he frightened? Enraged? Full of doubt? Ashamed? Uncertain? Everything was blending together into a great noise, and he was once again becoming lost in horrid memories and a bleak, overwhelming hopelessness. But also fury.

He was in sheer agony as waves of pain coursed through his body. He could barely inhale enough to replenish the air necessary to scream again.

If he could only hear something other than his own pulse in his ears, and the echoes of dark, treacherous thoughts and whispered lies. All compounded by the evil words he couldn't shut out. But that was all he was afforded. All he could rely upon to know what was happening around him.

" ... Or maybe … yes … you see too much to make out the truth from the lies."

Mika was losing hope. She had to think of something to trigger a reaction stronger than her son's fear. She needed anger, which she was starting to see; but it wasn't enough. And she could feel the spell which called to her losing its hold. It was weakening. NO! She couldn't leave him like this! She feared she'd be forced to leave before they'd reach some kind of resolution. But seeing how he was now, he'd have been better off never having tried this risky venture at all. Why had his friends put him up to this?!

!

Looking around, she eyed all of his friends, and saw the love and concern in all of them. That was why. They truly cared for him. Her heart warmed at that. From the story she'd been told, she knew Gray had stayed strong throughout because he believed in them. He needed them, not just her.

Quietly, she approached Loke, gaining his attention.

"Excuse me, but I need something from you."

Loke's curiosity at the fact that she'd mouthed that entreaty only grew when she started silently telling him what she needed, understanding that she didn't want Gray to hear. His puzzlement turned to comprehension, then appreciation of her cleverness, starting to see where Gray got his quick thinking from. He quickly relayed what she needed to Natsu, who grinned broadly. Finally! Something he could do.

"Oy, Ice Pop! You just gonna stand there and take that crap?"

A twitch. His head rose, just a little, an ear canted towards that new voice.

Lucy knew right away what Natsu was doing, and though unsure if this was a smart move, she chose to follow his lead.

"Natsu's right! Don't let her tell you what to feel about us. We know how you truly feel. Because we feel the same about you. We're grateful for who you are, and to have you in our lives! We believe in you!"

"But I've always believed in you, and I always will."

"I never thanked you for saving us all," said Loke, "I never told you how grateful I was that I hadn't been forced to choose whether to abandon you, and force Lucy into the Celestial world against her will; or to leave you both, to return home, waiting for that sensation of her contract going void. It was your strength and resolve that stopped me from having to make such an impossible choice!"

."We're already dying! I won't let my friends die and do NOTHING!"

One by one, his friends caught on, and started sharing their own words of encouragement and worth. It was a reversal of his time in that stupor, when they'd only provoked him with bad memories. This time, they were trying to build him up, to lend him their strength, to help him fight his fears.

"Even when it took so long to find you, you gave your all to stay alive until then. You always knew we were coming. You never gave up on us!" cried Cana.

" ... My friends will ... find me ..."

They were revealing their faith in him.

"Bisca was right about what she said about you. You're gentle and kind, brave, strong and caring. A protector," added Lyon.

"So I can't imagine what's going on inside of you, that would cause you to think you're anything but the kind, gentle, caring man I see every time you're with Asuka. Or the brave, selfless protector you became when she most needed you. Or the strong, determined, and stubbornly persistent warrior who faced his worst fears to rescue me from that fire."

And faith was the opposite of fear.

Mika smiled at these words spoken about her son. Though her time with him had been cut so drastically short, she was so grateful that he'd had these people in his life. She could hardly imagine everything there was to know about him with these few praises, but she'd heard enough to know he'd grown into a man Silver and she could be proud of.

She watched him now. He was so still, save for his tightly gripped fists and a worrying shudder in his breathing. One more push perhaps. Going back over how he'd reacted so far, she searched for whatever subject had caused him the most anger. He was a protector, was he? Looking back, she could see that. When she'd attacked him personally, questioned his place in the guild, he seemed to give in. Knowing what she knew about his guild mark, she could understand his vulnerability about that subject. But bring up his family and friends? That may be the key.

"And? What about your friends? They failed you! They couldn't stop you from being taken. From suffering through all those horrors. Are their words worth more than mine? I'm your mother! Is this the appreciation you show me? All my hard work to make you the man you are, only for you to … to … "

"I tried to be loving, and caring to you. But you returned that love with malice. You've truly hurt me, dear boy. Taking that monster's side over my own. I guess the only way you can appreciate my pain is to experience it yourself."

It was so hard to continue, because she could see his struggle, his desire to keep it together. But in her heart of hearts, she knew he needed to fall apart, in order for whatever was trapped inside to break free.

"... to turn away, to ignore my efforts, to not even care? I hadn't realized I'd raised such a … a selfish, inconsiderate, unworthy son!" she got out, just managing to finish those words before the crack in her voice could give her sorrow away.

"I think I have been very patient with you. I've shown kindness and care. I've lovingly corrected your poor behavior. I've tried to expose the evil that is that demon of a father to you, so that you could embrace the truth and become a better man. I'm sorry that you turned out to be such a bad son."

He finally broke.

"You didn't f*cking raise me, you lying bitch!"

Next Chapter: Gray unleashes his fury.