Homeward Hours

By CrimsonStarbird

Chapter Twenty-Five – Promises You Can't Keep

Lucy had a special glower that was reserved for Zeref's front door.

It had been many years since she'd last had to use it, and it felt oddly nostalgic for a moment, before the reality of the situation wiped her sentimentality away.

"For the last time, Zeref, come out!"

After two weeks of silence from the lacrima, she had resorted to shouting at his closed door, though it was not proving any more effective than her unanswered calls. Her gaze drifted to the side, where she'd pushed his usual delivery of groceries through the Fairy Sphere several days ago. Despite the fact that it sat in plain view of his house, it was untouched. Although the barrier kept the wildlife away, it did not protect it from time or the elements, and she doubted much of it was still edible.

It concerned her. Stubbornness was one thing, but not eating as a result of it was another entirely. That had unpleasant consequences for anyone, immortal or otherwise.

She tried a different approach. "Please, Zeref. Let's talk about what happened with the Fairy Sphere. Together, we might be able to find an explanation or a solution."

Nothing.

"Will you at least let me thank you for saving my daughter's life?"

Apparently not.

It was like they were back to square one.

"Lucy?" Levy called. "Are you coming?"

Turning, Lucy saw her friend poking her head out of the guest house's front door. Conceding defeat to her stupid, frustrating brother-in-law, Lucy gave up trying to get through to him and joined the gathering in the living room. As well as Levy, Freed and Warrod were present – both of whom had played an active role in studying the Fairy Sphere with her – and Jellal, who, not having the Fairy Tail guild mark, was instrumental in the testing process. Natsu was there too. Lucy couldn't tell if he was pleased or irritated that Zeref had once again refused to show up to their discussion.

"Right," Lucy said, taking her place on the sofa. "What have we got?"

Levy spoke first. "We think we've been looking at Fairy Sphere the wrong way all this time. We know it only lets guild members through, so we automatically assumed this meant people with the guild mark."

"Which is how the Magic Council and the law determine membership," Warrod supplemented, in an unusually serious tone. "But Fairy Tail has never been about having a symbol on your skin. It's always been about heart."

"We saw that very principle in action years ago, on Tenrou Island," Freed spoke up. "Laxus had been exiled from the guild and no longer had the guild mark. However, he was able to access Tenrou Island during those fateful S-Class Trials. We think this is because his exile had been carried out reluctantly by Master Makarov, and many in the guild still considered him part of it – not to mention that Laxus was there in good faith because he was worried about the guild. Now, while Tenrou Island wasn't protected by anything as powerful as Fairy Sphere, it does have enchantments to stop anyone outside the guild from finding it, and they are very similar to the ones which form the core of our modified Fairy Sphere."

Levy added, "And then there's Felicity. She's not technically a member of the guild-"

"And won't be until she's older," Lucy asserted. "If she chooses to join, at that."

With a nod, Levy continued, "But she's been around Fairy Tail her entire life. She's the eldest daughter of its Master and its most famous mage. She spends more time at the guildhall than she does her own house. Every single person considers her an integral part of the guild. The Great Fairy Magic recognizes that. She's a de facto part of Fairy Tail unless she chooses otherwise."

"And that's why I've never been able to pass through the Fairy Sphere, no matter what we did," Jellal volunteered. "We may be close allies, but my allegiance remains to Crime Sorcière."

"What about Zeref, then?" Lucy wondered.

"What is there to say?" Levy shrugged. "He's part of the guild in all but name, and we all know it."

Natsu snorted. Lucy glowered at him, but it was Levy who continued calmly. "It's the truth, Natsu. It's only those of us who have been in Fairy Tail forever who can even remember a time when he wasn't involved in guild affairs. To all our newer members, especially the next generation, he's just the eccentric Fairy Tail mage who lives in the woods and knows an unhealthy amount about dark magic – no weirder than Porlyusica keeping away from other humans or Gildarts always being on the move. He's one of us. No one has questioned that for a very long time."

"And that was all he needed to pass through the Fairy Sphere?" Natsu asked.

"He needed to accept it within himself… but yes, we think so."

"But hang on, Felicity was only able to walk through the barrier," Lucy pointed out. "Zeref outright dismantled it."

Jellal suggested, "He's been studying this magic more fixatedly than any of us. My guess is that he's known how to dispel it for a very long time, he just didn't have the authority, so to speak, to be able to do so. That's what he gained, in order to save Felicity."

"And while we're all very glad he did," Levy concluded, "the result is that our prison is no longer capable of holding him."

Lucy sank back into the squashy sofa as the whole group took this in. For thirteen years – barring the occasional mishap, which the Magic Council most assuredly did not know about – Zeref had been held within the Fairy Sphere, unable to harm another living creature by choice or chance. Those were the conditions under which they had been allowed to take custody of him in the first place.

Sometimes it seemed as though it had taken that long without incident for the Council to accept her way of doing things. Would they still be able to trust her judgement, if they found out her prison was no longer secure? Would Zeref?

"We have to tell him what we've learnt about the barrier," Jellal concluded unhappily. "There may be danger in confirming to him that it wasn't a fluke, but not as much as there would be if he found out we were keeping the truth from him."

"He already knows," Lucy realized. "That's why he's been pulling away from us since the incident. He's trying to distance himself from the guild so that he will lose his power over the Fairy Sphere."

Nervously, Freed ventured, "Isn't that a good thing? It shows he doesn't want to hurt us. What's the danger in him being able to leave his prison, when he's willing to go to such lengths not to do so?"

"Whether or not he wants to hurt us is irrelevant, and he knows it," Lucy told them. "He's an immortal death-mage suffering from the Curse of Contradiction. All it takes is one bad day, and he'll obliterate us all."

True, Lucy couldn't actually remember the last time Zeref had relapsed into that dangerous, angry state, but with death magic at his command, one slip would be enough. He could – would – destroy everything she loved.

It would destroy him, too.

She put into words what everyone was thinking: "So, although it isn't a problem if Zeref chooses to stay in that house of his own free will, sooner or later, his curse is bound to turn him against us, and we will no longer have a way of restraining him."

"Not necessarily," Natsu said.

Lucy's gaze jumped to him at once. He had no knowledge of esoteric magic, let alone the Fairy Sphere. As far as everyone except her was aware, his sole qualification to be involved in their debate was the enduring misapprehension from thirteen years prior that he had once defeated Zeref in single combat to save the guild. The secret of their familial connection was the one thing on which Zeref had always deferred to his younger brother.

Felicity and Emilia had brought the brothers a little closer, but only to the point of occasional mutual tolerance. Natsu had made little – if any – attempt to understand Zeref's difficult mental balancing act, and Zeref had long since stopped hoping for anything more. That was why Lucy felt a rush of concern that he had chosen to speak up.

But Natsu continued unfazed. "Sure, I guess he's a member of the guild when he's filling in forms for us," he said dismissively, as though even granting that gross understatement of everything Zeref had done for the guild was generous of him. "But when he's promising revenge against us and hoping we all die? When he refuses to help a comrade who needs his expertise? When he lashes out at me for not living up to the mythical version of me he has in his head?"

Lucy tried not to wince; Zeref hadn't done either of the first two for a very long time, but Natsu's last point hit home. Perhaps he was more perceptive to Zeref's emotions than he let on.

"I don't consider a person who acts like that to be part of Fairy Tail," Natsu stated. "And I don't think most of the guild members, who only have to interact with him when he's being friendly and helpful, would think so either. And, most importantly – do you think a person can qualify as a member of Fairy Tail while actively wanting to destroy it? Because I don't. Protecting our friends is fundamental to everything this guild is."

Levy's brow furrowed. "So, you're saying that you think Zeref's ability to control the Fairy Sphere can be granted and withdrawn at any moment, depending on his mental state?"

"But if that's true," Lucy breathed, "then it's not that the Fairy Sphere can no longer hold Zeref at all. It's that the Fairy Sphere loses the ability to hold him only when he means us no harm."

This time, when they exchanged glances, their eyes held the first glimpse of something that wasn't despair.

"That's perfect!" Levy exclaimed. "…Isn't it?"

"No," Zeref stated.

"But-" Lucy tried.

"No, Lucy."

Even through the old lacrima, she recognized his tone of voice all too well. It was his you're not going to say anything I haven't already considered, so stop wasting my time voice. She'd become very familiar with it over the past thirteen years, though she'd never heard it with so much bitterness before, like it wasn't really her he was mad at.

He continued, "It is precisely when I mean you no harm that I am at my most dangerous. The very mindset that enables me to control the Fairy Sphere is also the most likely to trigger my curse. Your prison will cease to hold me just in time for my curse to kill you all."

"But…" she tried again, because she had to. "But if tapping into the guild's power requires a certain mindset for you, then it isn't something likely to happen by accident. When you're feeling particularly sympathetic towards the guild and attuned to the Fairy Sphere, you can just decide not to mess with it. Okay, so it might not be the improvement to your situation that I was hoping for, but it's not going to make things worse…"

"Except it isn't just my body that the Fairy Sphere will lose the ability to hold. It's also my magic. Before, I could rely on the Fairy Sphere to protect you. I could sit in the guest house with you, or teach from this side of the barrier, or be just- just a few inches away from you-"

His voice cracked on the words. Lucy closed her eyes, glad for the distance between them as she swallowed back her pain. He was going through enough without having to watch her break down too.

"But I can't do that any more," he continued, all of a sudden short and cold. "Without that shield, distance is the only thing that can protect you from the death magic of my curse. From now on, I will only be able to interact with you – with anyone – like this, via a lacrima, from a million miles away."

Lucy lifted her gaze from the lacrima in her hand to the familiar house in the woods, its door locked, curtains drawn, such mundane barriers all they could rely on, now. He was right; he might as well have been at the other side of the world.

All because he didn't want to hurt them.

After all this time, she should have been used to it, but the things he had to do just to live this imitation of a normal life still had the power to throttle her heart.

Trying to sound as steady as possible, she said, "Maybe you're right, but this is only a temporary setback, Zeref."

"Temporary?" His laugh was almost desperate. "I can't un-learn how to accept the guild, Lucy! Things are never going to go back to how they were!"

"I know. We can't stop things from changing – we just have to adapt to them." An idea came to her, and she clutched at it gratefully. "Currently, the Fairy Sphere only allows the passage of Fairy Tail members and their magic, right? It blocks everything else. So, let's see if we can adapt it so that it blocks all passage and magic. We already know it's capable of stopping your curse; it has been doing so for over a decade. We just need to prompt it to do so regardless of the circumstances. It's not as though we need the exemption any more, and you'll still be able to lower the Fairy Sphere completely from the right mindset, if you have to leave for whatever reason."

He had been silent while she set out her thoughts, which was a good sign, although she did start to feel nervous as it dragged on.

"Well?" she prompted. "Does that sound like a good approach to you?"

"…I suppose it could work. Adapting the spell won't be straightforward, but… maybe."

Lucy let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "Things are going to be okay, Zeref," she reassured him, with a smile she knew he couldn't see. "If there are setbacks, we'll face them together. I have told you before, and I will tell you again: we are not going to lose you over something like this."

Quietly, he said, "I don't want to lose this, Lucy."

"I know."

"Do you? All my life, I have never been involved in anything I couldn't walk away from. I abandoned so many schemes halfway through before I finally went to war against your guild. I lived so many half-lives in so many countries. If my circumstances had changed, I could have walked away from Alvarez without a backwards glance. But I don't know what I'd do if I lost the guild. I can't go back to how I was before."

"You won't have to," Lucy vowed. "You're one of us, and you always will be. I promise."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Lucy, but you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"I find it quite hurtful that, after all these years, you don't think I would do everything in my power to see it through."

"I'm not saying you wouldn't. I'm saying that- well, there's too much we can't control. Too many ways all this can go wrong. The more I want it, the more fragile I realize it is."

"No one can control everything in life," Lucy shrugged. "The important thing is that you're not fighting for that future alone. The rest of the world may dislike you, but here, you are loved so very much, and you'd better not forget it."

Weakly, he said, "It's not being able to forget it that's causing the trouble with Fairy Sphere."

"Yes, and we're going to solve it together. We'll start work on the Fairy Sphere modifications right away. You just let me know when – if – you feel up to helping. That's all you have to do. That, and trust us."

Three days.

That was all he got, in the end.

Three days to let her reassurances guide him away from that old spiral of self-destruction; three days when he could believe wholeheartedly that, no matter what happened, Lucy – with Fairy Tail behind her – would make everything alright.

Three more days of the wonderful illusion that trust and faith could fix this.

Zeref was sat at his desk at the time. Only a few hours after Lucy had made him that promise, Levy had turned up with a first draft of a modified version of Fairy Sphere, wanting his opinion before they started with practical testing. It had taken most of the intervening time for him to bring himself to look at it, but he'd got there on his own, in the end, interrogating and amending the runic arrays he found there and sending it back to Levy.

They'd installed the updated Fairy Sphere earlier that morning, and so far, it appeared to be holding. Inanimate, non-magical objects were the only things that could pass through the barrier now. Fairy Tail mages, and magic of any kind, whether his or someone else's, was blocked without exception – or at least, none that they had found so far. That was why his pen swept across the page in long, flowing strokes of ink, seeking potential weaknesses in the new formulation of the spell so that they could address them now, rather than in a crisis situation.

And then the barrier fell.

There was no warning. No dramatic shattering of magic. Just that ever-present shimmer at the edge of his senses, gone.

"Honestly," he sighed, reaching for the lacrima. "I told them to give me advance notice of any experiments they were running…"

The lacrima rang and rang without answer.

That was odd. Though it wasn't entirely implausible, either. Perhaps Lucy was in the middle of a difficult job, and so had transferred control of the Fairy Sphere to someone less appreciative of its importance, who had decided this was an appropriate time to test some of Levy's more outlandish theories.

With another sigh, he almost called Mira instead, but paused. Maybe a demonstration of why the Fairy Sphere was not to be messed with would drive the message home. Something like the Black Mage suddenly appearing in their guildhall, for example.

Yes, between the distraction of his work and his mild annoyance at this turn of events, he felt stable enough for that. He drew upon his power and teleported to the familiar coordinates, ready to give them a shock.

But the guildhall was empty.

No Mira behind the bar, no Lucy struggling to do as much Guild Master admin as possible before giving in and calling him for help, no one choosing jobs or dining in the guildhall or hanging out with their friends. The lights were on. Plates of food, half-eaten, dotted the tables. Job requests fluttered in the wake of his sudden appearance, and then stilled.

Barring the annual trip to Crocus for the Grand Magic Games, he had never known the guildhall to be entirely abandoned in the middle of the working day before.

Now he did reach for the lacrima again, urging it to connect to Mira's with a swift mental command.

On the sixth ring, she finally answered. Or, he assumed she did, as the mental connection was immediately flooded with the sounds of rumbling and crashing, drowning out any words she might have been trying to send. Wincing – the background noise was enough to give him a headache, and he was only experiencing what the lacrima's enchantments weren't able to filter out – he poured more magic into the lacrima, stabilizing the connection until he could pick up Mira's words.

"-not a good time, Zeref-"

"Where is everyone?" he cut across her sharply. "Why's the guildhall empty?"

"Emergency mission. The lacrima mines outside Magnolia collapsed. There were hundreds of people inside. Everyone had to go. We're trying to save as many as we can, but the earthquakes are still ongoing – look, it's dangerous here, I'll call you later-"

"No." So cold was that command that even she froze, unable to terminate the connection. "Who has control of the Fairy Sphere right now?"

"Uh- Lucy does. There wasn't time to switch; everyone had to get to the mines as soon as possible-"

"Where is she?"

"Team Natsu went to the northern entrance, I think?"

He was already gone. The lacrima connection dissolved in the wake of his teleportation magic, to be replaced by the sight of a huge opening in the ground.

Not long ago, this had been the official northernmost entrance to the Aronlite Lacrima Mine, as the constant stream of traffic and state-of-the-art machinery would have attested to. Now, it looked like the aftermath of a battlefield – and in the battle between mankind and nature, there was only one winner.

A huge hole had opened up in the ground, a dark, lazy maw waiting for its prey to wander inside. It would have been a laughingly poor hunting strategy, had there not been guild mages in the vicinity, heroes who would rush into any danger.

Zeref jumped down. The darkness swallowed him, and he stumbled when he landed upon ground that was trembling. He flicked a light into existence, and almost wished he hadn't. With every second that passed, the tunnel looked less and less like the most sophisticated machinery man possessed had shaped it. Support beams cracked and rubble fell and the earth around him heaved. Nothing but chance was keeping the tunnel open. For now.

For four hundred years, he had loathed his own inability to die, but with this earthen tomb convulsing around him, it felt like a blessing.

He wondered how the guild mages could have thrown themselves unhesitatingly into this darkness.

He wondered how they found strength, when all he had was doubt.

Was Natsu's incredible destructive ability enough to break through to the surface, or would it only cause further cave-ins, further devastation? Could Erza's armour protect her from a rockfall; keep her alive until someone was able to dig her out? Perhaps Gray could freeze the tunnel from the inside to reinforce it, but how would they escape the prison of his making? Wendy could heal everyone but herself; wasn't she in the most danger of them all? And Lucy, whose power lay in her bonds with her Spirits and those around her; a power which was useless when she stood alone against the godly wrath of nature…

There were any number of explanations for Fairy Sphere having fallen, so Zeref reminded himself, as he staggered through the shaking tunnels.

Maybe she'd lost focus in the pressure of this emergency mission.

Maybe she'd done it on purpose, needing her full power, and had been trusting him to stay put until they were all home safe and sound.

Maybe.

But she knew how much he needed the reassurance of the Fairy Sphere right now. She would have kept it up until the very end. She cared too much to do otherwise.

He stared into the darkness of the tunnels that made the darkness of his own worries over the Fairy Sphere feel so trivial, and he knew.

The indomitable will with which Natsu had been forcing their demonic bond shut ever since he had learned of it wasn't quite enough to keep his emotions out, this time.

Zeref heard Natsu before he saw him. Heard his wail cut through the earth's discontent. Acnologia had not broken him, the Hundred Year Quest had not broken him, the Alvarez War had not broken him, Zeref himself had not broken him, but somehow, this had – this pool of blood that might have been shadows, these jagged rocks he would have passed without a second thought.

Not like this.

Not an accident – one risk too many, one heroic deed more than fate was willing to grant.

It should have been one glorious final stand against a terrifying enemy. It should have been a beautiful thing, all the world in her debt.

There should have been someone to blame.

There should have been someone he could tear apart for this, someone he and Natsu could team up to take down, someone upon whom he could turn all these feelings building up inside him before he burst apart.

Natsu knelt beside her. Agony overflowed from him; it poured from his eyes and tore from his throat and drowned their bond until Zeref could not tell where his own emotions ended and Natsu's began. He held her as though if he tried hard enough, he could grab onto the part of her that had left and pull her back.

(Why hadn't he been with her?)

Blood was rushing in Zeref's ears, drowning out the footsteps as Lucy's friends (where had they been?) finally reached them.

He did not hear Wendy (why had it taken her so long to get here?) tearfully telling Natsu there was nothing her magic could do.

He did not hear Erza, battered and bruised but in no danger beneath her enchanted armour (why hadn't she stayed with her?), worriedly asking Zeref why he was here.

He did not hear Gray arriving, an unconscious miner slung over each shoulder (why were they more important than her?), to warn them that the area was unsafe and they had to keep moving.

So hot was the thunder of Zeref's heart that he did not know how it hadn't yet brought the whole cavern down upon them.

(Why had they split up?)

(Why hadn't one of them stayed with her?)

(Why hadn't it been one of them instead?)

She shouldn't have been there at all. It wasn't a mage job. It was a task for the emergency services, the Rune Knights, the specialists, the mine owners who had underinvested in warning systems and safety. Those fools shouldn't have sent the alert to Fairy Tail just because it happened to be nearby – just because they knew there were people on their doorstep who would sacrifice everything for their worthless lives in a heartbeat.

And the guild shouldn't have accepted it. Should have showed some restraint, letting only those with appropriate magic go, rather than encouraging all and sundry to throw themselves into unnecessary danger. Should have consulted him.

But no, they let Fairy Tail's ethos be set by those who could afford to take risks, because they had the right kind of magic to ensure they would never have to pay for it. Her guildmates propagated the fallacy that being a hero was the only thing that mattered, until those who should have known better had run into certain death without a second thought.

They were the ones who normalized this behaviour. Why was she the one who paid for it-?

With a snap that was both dissociation and clarity, Zeref realized that there wasn't a single person in Fairy Tail or in Magnolia that he would not be able to blame for this, and that if he let it play out, everyone in the city would be dead come the morning.

"Someone needs to come back with me right now," he rasped, wild-eyed, startling those who had not yet realized he was there. "Restore the Fairy Sphere. Now."

All of them except Natsu exchanged glances; it was possible the Dragon Slayer hadn't heard over his own silent screaming, but more likely that he wasn't averse to that outcome, either.

"Okay," Gray volunteered, stepping forward. There was nothing he could do here. Rather leave and do something than stay here and look at- at-

"Now!"

"I said, okay!" he repeated in growing alarm. He reached hesitantly towards him – he, like almost everyone, had had no interaction with Zeref without the reassurance of the Fairy Sphere between them – but this only made Zeref seize his forearm and pull them both through space.

The earthen tomb around them was replaced by a sight that was little better: a prison disguised as a cute little house, a forest so mockingly peaceful, a tomb of his own, where the rawest, truest, oldest part of him was buried beneath thirteen years of now-meaningless promises.

The place she'd built for him.

The life she'd wanted him, her enemy, to have so badly that she had defied the Magic Council and common sense and even him for it, risking everything time and time again to show him he didn't have to live in despair – that he could live like they did, family and friends and students and purpose and happiness and belonging.

And now she was gone.

Just like that.

She'd stood up to the fate forced upon him, and then been lost to something so mundane, so pointless, so unworthy of her soul.

It was such a joke.

This life.

This whole goddamn world.

As if he was going to let it get away with-

But he had only taken one step forward when the Fairy Sphere shimmered back into place. From the far side, Gray watched him warily, hand outstretched.

A scream tore from Zeref's lips. All the magic he possessed slammed against the barrier, but it was as invulnerable as ever.

Once again, he was trapped. But this time, he could seethe and suffer forever, and she wouldn't be coming to try and calm him down.

Seeing that the barrier was working as it should, Gray ran back down the forest trail to see if there were any survivors he could help.

Zeref didn't even notice he had gone. Enveloped in a black shroud of his own making, he threw himself against that mocking barrier time and time again, bones breaking, blood spraying, muscles screaming, drowning everything in pain, until at last he fell into a huddle at the bottom, waiting for his body to heal so that he could do it all over again.

He'd had bad days before.

Natsu's death, Mavis's death, the day he'd gained his curse. They'd been bad, they must have been.

They seemed so trivial, now.

Mavis had died in his arms, but he hadn't been sane enough to understand grief. He'd walked away so easily. Pushed it aside. Gone to Alvarez, focussed on that, made the pain go away for a hundred years.

He couldn't imagine walking away from this.

It was so much of him. If he shut it out, he wouldn't have anything left.

He tried, though. Oh, he tried. The days blurred together, him and his broken body; if he couldn't cut the grief out of him then he could at least ensure it wasn't his strongest feeling, and nothing shouted louder than sheer physical pain. Sometimes it was as simple as that, using pain he could control to numb the impact of the pain he couldn't. Sometimes it was a game – setting his own death in motion and seeing how long he took to die, how long before he was revived, how much nothingness he could win for himself before he returned to being alive when she still wasn't.

He'd had bad days before, but not like this. He had grown too stable, too rational, too sure of himself for any of his old self-destructive coping mechanisms to work.

But it was precisely because he had found stability and known support and discovered a life worth fighting to keep that it did not take a hundred years for it to pass, as it had when Mavis had died and he had finally convinced himself he did not love her.

Nor did it take the four centuries and a dramatic final battle that it had taken for him to realize he didn't want Natsu to die, but to live.

It took five days of extraordinary hell, and then he started to notice the little things.

The crate of food someone had pushed half in and half out of the Fairy Sphere, right where Lucy had used to leave it, filled with his favourites.

The note from Levy tucked into one corner.

The three new communication lacrima that had been rolled into his garden, three separate people having assumed that he had smashed his old one in his grief and had no way of contacting the outside world.

The way that the grass around his house was always bright and welcoming and alive in the morning, brimming with Warrod's magic, no matter how much damage his curse had done to it the previous night.

The world that wasn't quite as unfeeling as he had always assumed it to be.

He thought that if they, who must have been feeling the same way he did, could still make the time to think of him, then maybe he could make the time to think of himself, too.

And the next day, he'd managed to take a shower and eat something, and the next thing he knew, it had been twelve hours since he'd last tried to kill himself, and it was hard but bearable.

He wasn't thinking about what had happened, not directly, not yet.

But getting there.

Getting there.

He was outside when Natsu came to him.

He had discovered that it helped, being outside. The forest was the same, but also different. Unlike his house, there was always something new to see – some squirrel or bird or pattern in the leaves that hadn't been there when she had.

But it also meant that he was exposed.

He should have vanished back inside the moment he heard someone coming. He wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet. He hadn't returned any of the messages left on his lacrima, and they were all from people he was far more comfortable with than he was with Natsu.

And yet something held him in place as his estranged brother approached him.

Something important.

That was why he was still sat in the grass when Natsu looked him dead in the eye and said, "Bring her back."