Loke's voice reverberated throughout the guild hall, Gray's words stunning everyone to complete silence. Even Laxus' eyes were wide in shock.
"Holy crap!" Natsu whisper-shouted, "He just called his mom a… Is this okay? Is he okay?"
"I don't know. I mean, I don't see how that kind of vitriol would help anyone," responded Lucy.
Cana disagreed. "No, this is exactly what he needs," she said with a relieved grin.
"He needs to cuss out his mom?" asked Natsu.
"He's not talking to his mother," Erza realized, "He's talking to her. The woman from the chamber. And to Arius. Gray's mom is brilliant!"
As everyone watched, they each came to realize what was really happening. And why it needed to happen.
It was startling how quickly his demeanor had changed. From a frightened, trembling mess of confusion and angst wrapped within a tight shell; he'd seemingly unfurled himself, standing taller now, hands fisted and breaths escaping in barely controlled rage, eyes focused with a clarity that was unnerving in their ruined state.
"I knew… From the very beginning, I'd always known… who you really were. Who you weren't. I can't recall at what point your sick reflection of my mother got so ingrained into my mind that I could never tell you two apart anymore. Was it when you took my sight, as you were 'so lovingly' disciplining me? Or when you were comforting me later on, with your soft words and gentle caresses… as you tried to break my will by singing that song. Seriously, what kind of sick f*ck sings to their prisoner? I wasn't lying when I said you sucked. You really butchered it. You didn't even know all the words! You made me pay for my criticism, though, didn't you?"
Mika was relieved, yet very shaken by Gray's sudden outbursts. She truly hadn't thought her ploy would work so well, or so quickly. But to see so much disdain from him, targeted specifically at her, was very heartbreaking. She had to remind herself that it wasn't really her he was delivering so much scorn and hatred towards. But she knew that wasn't completely true. His friend had said so; how Gray was so conflicted over the hate he held towards her, how he felt sickened by his inability to deny that hate. But she couldn't blame him. Never him. There was only one person to blame for all his pain, but that person was gone. Gray had no one else to release his anger towards. If her final act for him was to be his outlet, she'd gladly take every harsh, hurtful word for him.
"Was that more of your tough love? I was too defiant, was that it? Because I dared believe my friends wouldn't leave me to rot in that f*cking chamber?! You really thought tearing away my guild mark," he raged as he tore his shirt open, revealing the heavily bandaged wound for her to see, "would have made me forget about them?! What was it like, you bastard?! Did my blood warm your cold fingers as you were digging into my flesh?! Do you remember the sounds I made? I sure as Hell do! Not just the screams. Those didn't last. I no longer had my screams to cover up the sounds of everything you did to me! Because of you, I know the very sound my skin makes as it's being torn away!"
Lyon was worried now. Because just as in many times before, Gray's fallen back to using Gesture Speak. But instead of fretting over the familiar sign of his growing rage, he could only see the red that slowly spread throughout the bandages wrapped around his hands. That didn't stop him from feeling faint at hearing the graphic memories that Gray had kept to himself all this time. He could only imagine how sick Loke must have felt having to relay those words. It wasn't hard for him to express Gray's anger, as his own rage and indignation was clearly heard in his voice with every word he relayed to them all.
"You knew I couldn't speak. You knew! But you kept insisting, kept pressing harder and harder, trying to force a scream that would never come. Except it did! I did scream! Over and over. And every time I was able to drift away, you kept forcing me back, pulling me away from my one escape, where it was warm and quiet, where I wouldn't have to hear those screams anymore!"
Lyon wished he could direct some of his own anger at the woman those words were being directed towards, but as he looked at her, he couldn't bring himself to hate the person who was trying so hard not to cry.
Mika was devastated by all the pain her child had endured. But she couldn't reveal her sorrow. Not yet. He didn't need that, not until he'd had his chance to take as much of his hurt out on her as he was able.
"Maybe that's when I lost who you were, while you were carving up the rest of my body? Going quiet on me, making me guess when the next slice would come, or to dread that never ending agony from the salt you so viciously rubbed into every wound? Maybe that's why you were keeping score. Was that a fun game for you? Was it?! Oh, but let's not forget the stakes. You called it my lifeline, remember? That stupid rag you were so dead set on making me drop. Thanks for that. All you did was give me another means to resist your absolute bullshit!"
It dawned on Lucy why Gray had always been so adamant to have his friends announce themselves when they came over. It wasn't just the unease of not knowing if anyone was there or not, but also who could be there, and what their intentions were. As for the rest they'd just heard, she wasn't sure how much more she could stand to learn about his ordeal before she became physically ill. But she remembered finding a blood-soaked rag in the chamber, while waiting for Leo to return with Virgo. It was completely saturated, and had left a disturbing stain splattered upon the floor where it had apparently been thrown. She hadn't wanted to know what that was all about, leaving it where it had lain.
"You tortured me. Endlessly. For days! And for what? Because my dad pissed you off?! Well f*ck you! I don't know what he did to you, and I don't f*cking care. At least he would have allowed you to fight back! But you? You damned coward. You took my powers away! You bound me to that damned frame, laid me out like a broken doll. I couldn't move, could barely breathe. It was a struggle just to speak. You did whatever the hell you wanted to me, and I couldn't stop you. I was completely at your mercy!"
He was paralyzed. Trembling to an unknown, yet strangely familiar, fear. He couldn't break away, couldn't defend himself, couldn't plead for release.
"All I had left was my stubborn refusal to let an asshole like you win… and the belief that my friends would come. You left me with nothing else! So f*ck yes, I held onto that stupid rag! If I could find it, I'd go to wherever the Hell they buried you, and use the blood it was soaked in to write a big 'F*CK YOU' on your F*CKING TOMBSTONE, YOU DECREPIT, WORM EATEN PIECE OF SHIT!"
At that last exclamation , everyone grew more alert. No one could tell when, maybe not even Gray, but he'd started focusing his attacks towards Arius himself. What did that mean, though? Was he starting to separate the conflicting images of his mom, or were they all further merging together?
Mika was far more concerned about something else: She could feel the power of the spell was slowly dissipating. They didn't have long now. She had to finish this.
"Is that all?" She hoped she sounded condescending enough, but genuinely needed to know. She wasn't sure she could handle finding out he'd suffered even more pain.
"Tsk. You putrid scumbag. That wasn't even the worst of it. No. That honor's reserved for the final thing you took from me." At this, he took a step forward, then another, standing just a bit closer, needing to prove, either to himself or to her, that he could do so of his own volition. "You told so many lies, inflicted so much pain, instilled such hopelessness and fear within me; all to force me to renounce my father, to betray my friends. To give up on all of them. But you failed! You couldn't take them away. I'm not just a damned guild wizard. I'm a wizard of Fairy Tail. My friends were right. It was never about the magic. It's about family. It's always been about family! Nothing you took from me would have ever changed that! I don't need my magic, or my mark, to know where I belong!"
More than a few stood tall at those words, proud of his acceptance of such a profound truth, about the guild, and especially about himself.
...
That pride was shaken when they saw the subtle change in his visage, a look of lost and brokenness suddenly overshadowing that fierce anger from before.
"... But you did succeed… in breaking something within me. "
Lucy's eyes met Erza's, then Cana's, as dread started to build at what they were about to hear.
"... I… I loved you... once… I must have. Because this sorrow… this emptiness… There must have been something there; something good, and special. Something beautiful… for me to miss it so badly, that it physically hurts. And the pathetic thing is… there's still a part of me that still loves you. And I wish I could make that feeling go away… so that hating you wouldn't be so hard anymore! *sob* Because I can't remember what it was like to not be afraid of you! I can't picture your face in my head… without being reminded of the reason why yours was the last face I ever saw! Without reliving… when the embers fell… when—"
He had to stop, not wanting to break down in front of this monster. Gritting his teeth, he shuddered through several breaths, keeping more sobs at bay. Collecting himself, he continued.
"But I never needed your face to keep me bound. Your voice alone was a strong enough chain to imprison me in this Hell I'd never left. It sickens me how much I once longed for it as a kid; at how angry I was at myself for allowing your voice to fade from my memory. There were times when I'd spend hours desperately trying to remember how it sounded, only to cry myself to sleep at the frustration of having failed every time. You were right. I am an unworthy son! What son forgets the sound of his own mother's voice? There were times… months, even years after Deliora... where I'd wake up from a nightmare… or I'd just feel off, or homesick… or lonely… In those moments, I remember thinking… that I would have given anything to hear your voice again. But damn it all, I can't fathom now why the Hell I ever felt that way!
"Because now? I shudder whenever you speak. I've had to listen… everyday. Every single day, as you sang that song, over and over… It never stops. It's always in the background, just there. Haunting me… And your voice… my mother's voice… I… I thought it was yours. But how could it be… when it spoke such malicious things? But I could never be sure. Because I did forget. I forgot your voice! For years! Until I heard it again, and I knew! It was you! But it wasn't! It couldn't have been! You're not her! Not HER!
"But you are! You are her! No! No, no, not, you're not her, not her not her not—"
There was a new panic felt among the team as Gray's desperate denials became enraged cries. Grasping his head, he let out hauntingly silent, hiss-rendered screams, frustrated beyond measure that all his pent up hate and bitterness wouldn't be released in the cacophony it deserved. He soon stopped, chest heaving, tears streaming as he cried out.
"I don't know! I don't know who you are! I can't remember… can't rem— … F*ck!... I just can't! Because it's not there anymore! That's what you took from me! You took her away! Every thought! Every memory! They're all tainted and corrupted! Wrong! My mother is gone, replaced by that depraved corpse! That fiendish thing that sings that wretched song every day, and tortures me every night! And I can't make it stop! I could never make it stop! I feel like I'm still strapped down to that f*ckin table! I can't move. Or breathe. I can't think. I can't fight back! I can never fight back! I couldn't—"
He trembled, struggled, choked, bled, trembled some more. The pain wouldn't stop. There was no relief. Every injury was alive and showing their displeasure. Blood seeped from his wrists and ankles, along his throat, across his chest. Especially across his chest. It seeped through the grate he was laid on, pooling on the floor beneath him.
He gasped again, breathing heavily as he held his wrist tight against his chest, trying to resist the temptation to revisit that pain again.
"… I couldn't… couldn't fight back. *sob* I could only hold on. So that's what I did… I held on to whatever I could, and I waited. And kept waiting… for as long as I could. I held onto those chains… until my powers were gone… until my ice melted away, and my hands were burnt beyond saving… I held on... so firmly to that rag. No matter how bad the pain got, I refused to let go… I… I held on… to them... I wouldn't let you take them… Not Them!...
...
"... You… you couldn't take my father… or my friends… my faith… my guild…
…
"… but …"
…
Ever so softly, not sure how much she wanted to know the answer, Mika asked, "But what, Gray?"
…
…
"... but I… *sob*... I couldn't hold onto you! I lost you!… I couldn't… I couldn't fight for you! *sob* You… you said I was a bad son… And you were right! I let them take you away! I couldn't stop them! I couldn't hold on!"
Mika couldn't hold it in any longer. Her son stood before her completely broken, devastated, having taken so much malice and hatred out on her, so much grief. But he couldn't find satisfaction in such a release. There was no victory here. No relief at having his say. To think that all this time, he'd been harboring these feelings of guilt and shame at the perception that he'd somehow failed her. That he actually shouldered some of the blame for hating and fearing her only made her more angry at the monsters that did this to him.
She will never know why she would say her next words, whether she believed they were hers to say, or solely those of the one who'd truly tortured him.
"I'm sorry!" she shouted, her voice loud and clear, echoing in the shocked silence that followed. Gray was most shocked of all. Never had he expected to receive an apology from his tormentor. Never had he even entertained the notion that he'd ever accept one, either.
"I'm sorry! For everything! For hurting you. For making you feel so helpless and alone. For lying to you, and making you doubt yourself. I'm sorry for trying to take your friends away, and for leaving you so scared. I'm sorry I took so much from you, and if I could give them back, I would. Every bit of it. And more. I'm so, so sorry my voice causes you so much sadness and fear now. I wish I could find a way to change that, and I wish I could help you remember all the happy times we had.
"My heart is sick with what I did to you. But it's not your fault! It was never your fault! Please don't blame yourself. You never deserved what happened to you. And you didn't let me go. *sob* You fought so hard, and you've never stopped fighting! That's why it hurts so much. Because like you said, a small part of you still loves me. You still have me. It's just hard finding me right now. Because so many things are in the way. But I'm so happy and relieved, and proud, that you were able to hold onto that love for so long. Even when you've known all along that it would have been easier if you'd let it go, you've held on to that love, just as you'd held onto everything else. You didn't let them take it away!"
Gray had stopped crying little by little as she spoke, finding it hard to believe her words. She was apologizing? Never had he thought such words would come from that monster's mouth. But that was the point, wasn't it? Was she truly the monster that had stolen his mom away? This was just another conflict to add to the many others. But for whatever reason, her soft words and sincere sorrow as she spoke them was having an unexpected effect on him. His heart was softening, bit by bit. But there was still a doubt lingering. There were too many questions, too many lies to wade through.
"You've grown so much, but there's one thing that hadn't changed. One thing I recognized in you, that I'm so grateful you hadn't lost. Your ability to love so strongly, so fiercely, that nothing could take that away from you. You were never one to show interest in something right away. It felt like anything that would normally draw a young boy's attention had to earn yours first. But when something did, you clung to it with such a stubborn passion. It was as if you'd determined early on to save your love for only the things which most deserved it.
"Such as those times when you were very young, and you'd leave whatever game you were playing with your friends because you'd noticed a shy child left out of the fun. You were always quick to befriend them. Or when you'd always bring home whatever stray animal you'd find. Your father learned very quickly that challenging you to take full responsibility for their care wouldn't stop you from keeping them... Or when you sat at the piano one day and just started playing, like you'd always known how. And you were so excited when your father brought that violin home. Remember? Those were some of the more precious times we all spent together. It wasn't just the music you loved. It was because of how much you loved us—"
"—Stop!"
She didn't dare continue, not when she saw the warring emotions on his face. His confusion was evident as he slowly shook his head in denial, mixed with a desire to believe what she was saying.
"You don't get to apologize. You don't get to just speak those soft, gentle words, and offer up your sincerity and regrets, and think that everything is… "
"I know. Saying sorry doesn't make it okay. And it doesn't justify what happened. That's not what forgiveness is. I wish we had taught you about it when you were younger, when we still had time. It's so frustrating how little of it we have now. But please listen. Don't do it for me. I'm asking for your forgiveness for your own sake. My actions have changed you in so many ways. You can't keep lingering in this pain. It will infect you with hatred and bitterness, like poison. It will grow and spread, turning you into someone you will hate. But forgiveness will break the chains that still bind you to that vile man. Please… for your own sake, you have to forgive me!"
He was so confused, and growing more and more frustrated at the conflicting yearnings within him. He wanted to hate her. He had every right to. But the idea of forgiving her, of being able to simply let go of all this anger he held against her, against himself, felt so… But who was he forgiving? Who'd really been speaking to him all this time?
Exhaustedly, with a great deal of sadness, he asked once more, "Who are you?"
With her own sadness, she replied, "It's me, your mom."
"But how can I know! How can I be sure this isn't some elaborate dream my own mind created! Or that you're not that pathetic old bastard using my mother like a damned puppet again!"
"I don't know how to convince you. I just… what about all I said? About your childhood? Could the necromancer have known all of that?"
"I don't know! He knew things. I don't know how! Maybe you made them up. Or guessed! Every kid grows up making friends at the park, or bringing strays home! You could have known enough to fill in the blanks!"
"But what about how I knew you loved learning music with us? How could I guess which instruments you played? Or that your passion for it came from how much you loved us?"
"Are you shitting me? You knew about the damned song! Why wouldn't you know about everything else?!"
"What song—"
"—YOU KNOW WHAT F*CKING SONG! You never stopped singing it! You wouldn't shut up, whether I was conscious or not! Every time I drifted, it would follow me. Then I'd wake up to that incessant, tone deaf, never ending litany of the same lyrics, over and over. The lion roars… and the lamb… *sob* the lamb…"
"You're… oh my Lord… you're talking about the lullaby," she realized sadly, "The lamb cries out, and they reign—"
"— Don't!… Don't you dare… That was our song. Mine, and my mother's! You had some nerve, stealing it, and using it like you did... Just another thing you took from me!"
"You said I didn't know all the words. But do you? Do you remember our song?" she asked hopefully.
She hadn't expected him to be able to look even more forlorn than before, but he wore that look now as he answered, "I told you! I forgot it, a long time ago! Until you brought it back. It comes and goes now, just a noise that echoes all around me, never leaving me. I try hard to ignore it now, to force myself to forget again!"
"But do you remember how we used to add new words to it? It was so long ago, and you were so small, but you used to help me come up with new lyrics, remember? And that day, when everything changed… When the demon came… That very morning, I told you I'd finally finished the song. We were going to wait for your father to come home from an errand, and play it together, all three of us. And I was going to teach you the new words… But… that time never came."
Gray stood frozen, lost in memories of that day from so long ago, made more pronounced, more defined, with this phantom's recollections. She dared to come closer, wary and alert for any more fear, but he made no move to get away.
"Would the necromancer have known it? The final verse? Did he… did I… sing anything that was unfamiliar to you?"
He almost called her out for the nonsense, but paused. Because he did remember that. How at first, he hadn't recognize the song. But after a while, there it was. And he actually knew more words than the necromancer had.
But he remembered now, with such maddening clarity, his anguish from so long ago; at how he'd cried inconsolably that first night in Ur's house upon realizing that he'd never get to hear that final verse.
"You were never able to tell me. You never got the chance. I was so upset that, after a while, it was just easier for me if I forgot the whole song. I just… couldn't stand the idea of singing it… without ever knowing how it ended. I stopped thinking about it, and it eventually faded away… Just like your voice... It was so easy back then… to forget... "
But the anguish had only grown over time, and he'd come to regret ever allowing that once precious song to disappear. It was that regret that had caused his need to hold so steadfast to anything he could now, to remember those who had meant so much to him. It was the reason he'd chosen to master Gesture Speak, the reason he now preferred using it over the ease of having others read his lips, especially since he'd had to live so long without magic, the other memento he'd received from Master Ur.
It was why he'd taken up the violin again, so many years ago, that one mission-free afternoon while idly perusing Ochan's pawn shop. He'd been looking for a music lacrima to fill the silence of his recently purchased home, but the allure of being able to remember his parents in such a way had been too great to ignore.
With a hope wrought from desperation, Mika asked him, "Do you think it would help if—"
"— Shit! We need to end this now!" came Laxus' insistent command. He was hovering over Bickslow, who had just fallen to his knees as he forced himself to maintain his hold on the fiercely struggling souls.
"Not yet! I can keep going!" replied a determined Bickslow.
"What's happening over there?" cried Lucy.
"Hell no, you can't keep going! Look at your damned hands!"
Laxus was right. What had started as a mere irritation had steadily intensified to where Bickslow's hands were now blistering, almost sizzling. Mira and Porlyusica converged on them to do what they could, but he refused to release his spell until their mission was complete.
"Stop with this foolishness now!" Porlyusica demanded, before she lowered her voice, not wanting Gray to hear, "If you burn through too many layers, you'll risk nerve damage. Not even Wendy can regenerate missing nerve tissue!"
"So you're saying I've got until the pain suddenly stops? Good to know," replied Bickslow.
"Bicks, you've done enough," said Laxus.
"The Thunder Legion doesn't surrender. Where's my pride as a Fairy Tail mage if I back down from a quest, especially one done for a fellow guild mate?"
Laxus paused briefly to consider, then asked, "How far are you willing to take this?"
With a daring grin, Bickslow replied, "Like the man said. This is about family."
Porlyusica tsked, about to say what she thought of such risky stupidity in the face of permanent scarring, but was interrupted by Loke's alarmed shouts.
"No! No, you need to stop. Now! Something's wrong!"
"Gray! Sweetie, please answer me. What's wrong with him?" cried Mika.
In all their distractions, few noticed as Gray's countenance shifted from reluctance and denial, to one of horror. His eyes were wide with terror, his breath heaving in great, shuddering gasps. He shifted his gaze back and forth, and started taking small, shaky steps backwards. His breathing hitched, and he collapsed onto his hands and knees, painfully dry heaving, before he leaned back to sit on his calves, trying to catch his breath, hugging his chest tight. He was having trouble capturing that highly sought for control, hyperventilating now, eyes starting to glaze over.
Lyon, having been conditioned to seek out the various triggers which would cause such a dramatic reaction, suddenly gasped in horror when he found it.
"Bickslow! Step away!"
'What?' was the thought on most of their minds.
Natsu caught on right away. The scent had finally reached him.
"Crap! Your skin's burning? He can smell it! You need to back away from him!" he yelled.
Laxus was already helping Bickslow up, supporting him as he moved as steadily as his fumbling gait would allow, as he tried not to lose his concentration on the spell.
Loke was trying to get some kind of response from Gray, but so far was unsuccessful. "Gray, it's okay. You're not in the chamber. Or the kiln. You're in the guildhall, with all of your friends. We're right here! You're not alone. You're safe here. Come on. Please, say something!"
It was impossible to tell if he'd heard, but his body was so strained, drawn taut as a bowstring, that both Loke and Lyon feared he'd snap completely if they touched him.
But after so many tense moments, it seemed his agitation grew even worse. Was he angered at having failed to regain his control? Or something else? Whatever it was he so desperately needed, it was frustratingly denied to him. But Loke was able to catch his agonized pleas.
"Too much… Why am I still here?... Why can't I?... I can't… this is too much... too much... I… No! I can't… can't… Please! Let me go!... I need… Make it stop! Please!... Why can't…"
"Shit! He wants to drift, but he can't!"
Porlyusica, while attempting to pour a minor healing potion over Bickslow's hands to minimize the damage from the burns, heard Loke's words and frowned. Mr. Bradley had warned them of the possibility that something like this might happen. But for Gray to be completely cut off from his refuge? Why now, when he truly needed it more than ever? Lyon had reported small suspected episodes of drifting throughout the week, but nothing major like before. Was this the cost of their overzealous intervention, of forcing him back before he was ready? Was he no longer able to drift as far as he needed?
"We should stop now. He can't take anymore of this. He's done," Lyon said, completely subdued and defeated.
One by one, each of them made eye contact, coming to a silent consensus. Even Bickslow, though still reluctant to give up, nodded his assent after taking a good look at Gray's stricken form. He understood it wasn't just the scent of burning flesh that was forcing him over the edge, though that didn't mitigate the regret he was feeling now. It was everything. The haunting sounds, raging winds, and intense magical forces all around him must have been so overwhelming. He hadn't missed the panic in his eyes as they'd tried to correct their misstep with the other souls, either. His anxiety was already forced into high gear before they'd even started. This had become a cruel torture for him now.
Erza, heartbroken at having come so far, only to have to turn back now, breathed a deep sigh before she gave the order, "Wendy—"
"—Please wait."
In the sorrow and disappointment that each of them felt, everyone had been standing still, with no words to say, the unsettling winds still blowing about being the only sound heard. So the quiet request from Gray's mother had easily drawn their gazes.
It was so surreal to see a spirit cry, but there before them stood one so filled with grief. But how could they expect anything less from a mother who was witnessing the deepest depths of fear and pain she'd ever seen her child go through? They couldn't tell whether the soft light that appeared to glisten from her eyes were supposed to be tears. Would a spirit have tears? But tears or not, there was no denying the mournful heartache she was displaying right now.
Erza spoke up, hating having to be the one to refuse her plea, but surely she'd understand the need to end this for her son's well being.
"I want to thank you for all you've done, and to apologize for the pain you are no doubt feeling. But we have no choice—"
"—Do you not have faith in my son?"
That question caught them all off guard. What could she mean? Of course they had every faith in him. She didn't give them time to answer. Taking a step closer to her still kneeling child, she continued.
"You all heard his words. You know of the great many things he'd suffered, the terrible sorrows he'd endured. You must also know, since long ago, what I'd been able to see in my short time here: The reason he's still alive is because he never lost his faith in you."
She took slow, careful steps towards her son, who was gripping his head now, screaming, crying, panicking. But she knew the boy she had raised. She saw the love and resolve in all his friends, and knew that such devotion had to have been earned, and would have instilled within him the same. Her son was strong, a fighter.
"And because of his faith, he fought long and hard to prove to you that your own faith in him was justified."
She had no doubt he would pull through this trial. But she also knew there was no shame in needing help.
"So believe in him now."
She kneeled before him, and could tell he knew she was near. He looked so scared and confused, unsure of what to expect. He brought his hands down, and she noted how heavily they both bled now. He was shaking so harshly, filled with overwhelming dread. Unable to withstand seeing so much of his anguish any longer, she made what everyone knew was a vain effort to comfort him, trying to embrace him with her incorporeal body. They were braced for the great deal of disappointment she was bound to feel at her inability to touch him.
So they were completely unprepared for the immense shock they all felt, soon followed by panic, when she succeeded.
Gray was sure his heart had stopped upon feeling his mother's hands pull him towards herself. He was unable to move, completely paralyzed. He'd stopped breathing, lost in the turmoil that had shrouded his mind in confusion and unbelief.
Stilled by utter fear, he could only tremble as his hands and feet were locked in place by his own inability to remember how to move. He felt like a lost child, scared of the dark, and of the demons that hid therein, caught by one such creature. The worse of them all.
'No! Nononono… NO! Not her! NOT HER! How? They said she couldn't touch me! Please! No more! Let me go! Don't… DON'T… DON'T TOUCH ME!... '
Mika felt Gray tremble uncontrollably, could tell how he weakly tried to pull away, but was unable to will his body to move. She saw astonishment in the eyes of all of his friends. And in the back of her mind, she was ever aware of the dwindling power that was soon to disappear completely, taking her along with it. But she paid no heed to such worries.
She had to take care of her son.
She had so little time. Having no other option left to her, she took a desperate gamble once again, knowing how much he loathed how his tormentor had done this very same thing. But she had to believe this would work. Softly, soothingly, conveying as much love and affection as she could, she fell back upon the one thing that had never failed to bring peace and comfort to her son when he was young.
She sang to him their lullaby.
"Don't be afraid, you'll be alright
Mommy's here to hold you tight
You're not alone, no not alone"
He jerked at the sudden intrusion in his thoughts, but stilled just as quickly, but she knew he heard, and continued.
"Don't be afraid in the dark of night,
It won't be long til the morning light...
You're not alone, no not alone"
'No… Please no… It can't be… Was it all a dream? Was I never really rescued?...'
"The cold dark night may lead astray
But the stars beyond will light the way"
'Am I still trapped in that chamber?! Is my mind so truly f*cked to have created such a realistic fantasy?!'
"If you'd believe, then you would see
So close your eyes, and trust in me"
'... No… There's something… What?… What is this?... She's… I don't understand...'
"The lion roars and the lamb cries out
They reign in peace in the lands throughout
They call to me, as they call to you"
Slowly, his trembling began to cease, and Mika knew he was calming down.
'Her singing sounds… peaceful. The song is in tune, soulful and beautiful. That creature had never sounded so… sincere'
"Through the fears we face when we're far from home
Hold onto me, you're not alone"
He dredged up the strength to pull away, just enough so she, and Loke, could see his face. Once again, with a desperate hope he hadn't felt until now, he asked her his most pressing question.
"Who are you?"
Because he needed to know. No more lies. No more delusions. A fire had been lit within him, a thirst, a deep yearning to have this mystery resolved. That small spark of hope had ignited because of one single phrase she kept saying, over and over. Something the creature had never said. Not once.
You're not alone.
…
" ... It's me."
Closing his eyes, he meekly shook his head as he unknowingly reached for his bandage-clad forearm. That just wasn't enough. Knowing what lay underneath those dressings, and understanding what he was attempting to do, she gently placed her hand over his own. His breath caught in his throat, and she could feel his hand starting to shake again. He was still too unsure, too afraid that he'd be disappointed in the end.
But instead of trying to convince him with evidence or words, she continued what had proven to be a risky yet well worth gamble. With the few moments she could sense they had left, she at long last, after so many years, offered to him the final lyrics to their song.
"Don't be afraid of this strange new land
I'll lead you forth, take you by the hand
You're not alone, no not alone"
His hand stilled, and he released the grip on his wrist. Opening his eyes, he looked straight ahead, and Mika gave a bittersweet smile that his grown height meant she was now too short to be completely at eye level with him, even as he held himself low. There was a growing look of awe growing on his face.
Because he truly didn't recognize those lyrics.
"Don't be afraid should I disappear
If you remember me, I'm always near,
You're not alone, no not alone."
Tears were starting to well up anew, but they weren't tears of fear or bitter sadness, but of realization of what had been gifted to him.
Their finished lullaby.
"The cold dark night may lead astray
But the stars beyond will light the way
If you'd believe, then you would see
So close your eyes, and trust in me"
And beyond all reason or comprehension, he felt a peace he couldn't remember ever feeling.
"The lion roars and the lamb cries out
They reign in peace in the lands throughout
They call to me, as they call to you
Through the fears we face when we're far from home
Hold onto me, you're not alone"
The song came to an end, and there was a hushed anticipation throughout the room. Everyone else had been completely forgotten. It was just those two in all the world right now, within that small space they kneeled in.
Though he would never know precisely when it was he had lost his mother, he, along with everyone who were witnessing this night, would forever remember when he had found her again.
Opening his eyes wide in astonishment and a timid, unsure joy, he reached his free hand to his mother's face, wondering even as she held him, if he'd be able to return her touch. He felt a childish amazement when he did so, taking solace from what little he could feel. He wouldn't complain about his lack of sensation today. How could he, when this shouldn't even be possible?
His fingers grazed her face, feeling not soft, giving flesh, but a warmth that was strangely tangible but not. He could feel the contours of her nose and cheek, and the wispy strands of hair which tickled the back of his hand as they fluttered in the wind. He was so fixated on this act, full of reverence and awe, seeming as a child experiencing untold wonders for the first time.
Daring to hope that she wouldn't startle him if she broke the silence, she asked very quietly, "Gray?"
With a quick intake of breath, he became once more aware of where he was, and who was with him. It was with an excited anticipation mixed with a still lingering, but quickly fading, doubt that he spoke.
"M… ma… mama?"
Loke was taken aback, too surprised to speak. Lucy gasped, her hands covering her mouth in shock as she freed the tears she had held back until now. Natsu and Lyon stood with mouths agape. Erza, Cana, and all the others also wore mixed expressions of surprise, reserved hope, and cautious cheer.
That was Gray's voice they had heard.
If something within this chapter didn't make you tear up, you have no soul. No judgement, though.
NOTICE: So, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to slow my update schedule to bi-weekly postings. I homeschool all four of my kids, teaching three different grades. Not because of the pandemic. We'd always done it, so it's not something new. Just that two of them entered high school this year. It's pretty hectic. It's fun to learn with them, though. But I have less time to write, now. I know many of you know that frustration. Therefore, I'm hoping to finish this arc at the usual weekly schedule, then switch to updating every other week, beginning with the first chapter of Part Three. Can't wait to see you there!
Next Chapter: Gray releases his grief, and finally begins to heal.