Freed was right there.

Not close enough for Laxus to be able to make out his features or make sense of the darkness that seemed to have wreathed itself around his partner like a cloak that moved against the breeze, shifting with a life of its own. But, close enough for him to realise that Freed or rather the Demon - because he knew that it wasn't Freed in control at the moment even without being able to the truth written across his partner's face – was fighting against Fairy Tail, not with them. That the path of destruction spreading out in his wake, was not Freed fighting his way to freedom as Laxus had dared to let himself hope it was for a fleeting second. But rather the Demon on a rampage and even now as they moved closer, Laxus pouring as much magic as he could into propelling them forwards, he saw more people falling, and his stomach churned at the sight.

Freed will never forgive himself.

Part of him hoped that Freed was buried so deep inside himself right now that he had no idea what his body was being used to do because while the guilt would still be there, it would be lesser. Or at least not etched into his memory. However, he knew even as he thought that, that the Demon wouldn't have granted Freed that release. It had always made sure that Freed had a front-row seat whenever it had managed to seize control in the past, as though hoping that forcing Freed to see what it was doing to them, would be enough to paralyse his partner and stop him fighting back. It hadn't worked in the past, although it had left scars that only appeared late at night when Freed was haunted by nightmares of what he could have done to Laxus and his best friends. But this was different, this wasn't just Freed losing control.

They were so close now, and Laxus had just felt the first sharp tug of whatever gravity magic surrounded the Cube, pulled to the side when the entire Cube seemed to come alive. It rocked violently, sending everyone on the surface stumbling, and then as they watched the gravity seemed to lose power, and more than one mage went tumbling past them, and Laxus and the others had no chance to catch them. Although Laxus' attention was riveted on Freed, his partner had managed to catch himself in what seemed to be a dark web woven between protruding rock formations. At least until, he felt rather than heard Bickslow cursing and Evergreen going rigid with shock, tearing his attention away from Freed and to the transformation that what he was fast realising was not just an island was undergoing.

"Laxus!" A rock protrusion erupted out of the rocking Cube, and only Bickslow's shouted warning, almost lost in the rumbling noise and cries of those falling into the sky allowed Laxus to dodge to the side. Not quickly enough, as there was a hard impact with his back, and he lost his grip on the other two who were ripped away from him with panicked shouts. Laxus had no time to reach for them or even to steady himself because the protrusion was growing as were several others. Debris was also raining down on him from above, forcing him to dodge left and right as he was forced into a retreat. Losing sight of Freed and the others amid the chaos, and in the end, he was forced to drop back towards the ground with a curse.

Freed, hold on…

Freed was wrenched out of the darkness, the Demon refusing to allow him even that reprieve for more than a few precious moments. Merciless in its delight, as it forced his attention to the chaos and destruction spreading around him. There was a fleeting relief as he realised the Demon had paused, that it was no longer his hands hurting his guildmates. However, that swiftly became horror, as he watched the pinkish-purple goo that seemed to be seeping from the very core of the island that he now realised was rocking violently beneath his feet. It felt as dangerous as the web the Demon had spun around him, and he wanted to recoil, to pull away as it seeped across the ground towards them. There was laugher in the back of his mind, as it reached them and then swept around them, parting as though he was an island in the sea as it swept in at high tide.

The Fairy Tail mages and Tartaros foot soldiers were not as lucky, as the goo rolled towards them, an endless, creeping tide that fed the projectiles that lashed out towards them. The more they struggled, the deeper they seemed to sink into it, and more than one person was crying out to him, pleading for his help even after what he had just done to them. Help them, or let me help them, Freed pleaded, throwing himself against the walls of his prison, again and again, already knowing that it wasn't going to work because he could feel the dark amusement that swirled around him. Please, his voice cracked and broke, as his hands slid down the barrier, aching and bleeding as his knees gave out beneath him, and he bowed his head, hating his weakness as much as he hated what he was being forced to do. Yet, at the same time, he felt the Demon take an interest, eyes locked on him, on his submission.

Please…

There was a pause, one that lasted mere seconds but felt like a lifetime and Freed couldn't breathe, torn between terror and hope. He had no illusions, if he found even a shred of mercy in the monster, it wouldn't buy his freedom, it would erase the blood that was already on his hands, but if he could just do something – save one person – then maybe he wouldn't be beyond redemption.

Laughter.

Cruel and echoing flowed through the space he was trapped in within his mind and bubbled up from his lips until it seemed that was all there was in the world.

The world that had grown still beneath them still and silent, as though everyone and everything beyond them was holding his breath, and he blinked. Such pretty pleas, but you were too late, the Demon taunted as Freed took in the sight that met his horrified eyes, the people who had surrounded them seconds before now locked in place, transformed into statues locked into their final moments. Reaching for him screams bound to silence as their bodies were locked into the purplish-pink goo that was no longer fluid or alive, but dormant, satiated with everything that it had consumed. Freed closed his eyes, and prayed that it was a nightmare, a trick for the Demon to test him with, but when he opened his eyes again, looking out through the window, the Demon allowed him, the vision didn't waver in the slightest. They're just like you now, the Demon purred, laughter giving way to something softer, yet crueller, flooded with triumph.

A helpless prisoner…

He wasn't sure which of them thought it, wasn't sure whether it was worse that it was both or him alone, not sure of anything anymore as he looked out across friend and enemy alike, and felt more alone than he'd ever felt before this moment.

Laxus had caught himself, the storm gathering around him, thunder rumbling continuously now as he watched the transformation of the Cube, something far too close to terror clawing in the pit of his stomach as he stared up into the grinning face of… something. Was it a demon? A trick of magic? He didn't know, all he knew was that Freed was still up there somewhere above his head, a prisoner, of the island…of the Demon… of Tartaros.

Freed…

Movement caught his attention, but he didn't look away, even as he caught the familiar scents. After the immediate jerk of alarm, he had known they would be fine, trusting them as much as Freed did. A faith that was rewarded a moment later as Evergreen appeared next to him, wings fluttering behind her, keeping her aloft although she did look a little wary as thunder rumbled around them. "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know, but…"

"Not a chance," Evergreen informed him tartly, cutting off what he had been about to say and Laxus wanted to growl at her. Freed was up there, which meant that Laxus had to go, there was no other option as long as he drew breath and knew that there was a chance to bring his partner back, but leading the other two into what awaited was something else.

"You told us that we needed to find our way into hell," Bickslow took over as he came into view as well, balanced somewhat precariously on his dolls, tilting his head towards the looming – whatever the hell the Cube was – lips twisted into a grimace. "I'd say we found it."

Hell…

…the gates of hell are right in front of us.

He supposed that gave new meaning to the saying 'I'd follow you into hell', and he knew even with the sinking feeling in his chest that brushed a little too close to terror, to doubt, that he would go in, and that the others would follow.

"Freed was fighting against our guildmates," it was a whisper of sound, almost lost amongst the rumble of thunder and crack of lightning, but he knew that the others had heard him as he caught their uneasy glance. They knew what it meant, both for them and their efforts to bring Freed back to them, and for Freed when he was back to himself and then they were moving, surging ahead of him.

"Then let's go and bring him back."

There was life in the island Freed realised, a demonic presence that swelled around him, stronger, less human than the monster pulling the strings in his body, and yet distant. As much a puppet in whatever was happening as they were, although that through earned him snarl, and another flash of agony as the web wrapped around him once more. A weakness, a crack in the Demon's armour and Freed noticed it somewhere amongst the pain, filed it away more from habit than anything else, because how could he use it when even his words couldn't touch the Demon right now?

All he had was empty, wordless apologies in the prison of his own mind as the Demon prowled through the statues, delighting in his sorrow and guilt, revelling in it. Freed tried to retreat, to recoil from the world, but he wasn't allowed, as much as he couldn't touch his own body, he couldn't touch the darkness, suspended between them in a way he had never experienced before. It was torture, more painful than any agony the Demon could inflict on him with the dark power that swirled around them.

He wasn't sure how long had passed, how long he had been trapped and drifting when there was a shift in the air around them. One that he recognised, more than he could recognise himself these days, and there in his treacherous heart he felt a spark of something far too close to hope. Laxus. There was a pressure, a tension in the air, a storm brewing on the horizon. Freed wasn't sure when he had come to associate that sensation with home and safety, but he felt it now, even as deeply buried as he was and it was his turn to laugh, a terrible, broken thing, more grief and guilt than true relief or hope. Because, now Laxus would see what he had done, what he had become, and even though the Dragon-slayer had always accepted his darkness before. This was different, and the proof of it was written in the devastation he'd left in his wake. How could Laxus ever forgive that? But he was coming, the sky above them darkening, as thunder rumbled and a bolt of lightning struck the ground not far away and Freed laughed, because of nothing else Laxus would stop him.

The Demon snarled at his thoughts, but none of that showed on its expression as it turned as there was the sound of something, or rather someone slamming into the surface, narrowly missing one of the petrified clusters of mages.

"Laxus…" The Demon whispered, allowing relief and hope to colour its voice and Freed's broke off, that spark of horror turning to horror as though it had been plunged into the depths of the darkness holding him in place. It had his face, his voice, his memories. Nothing was sacred anymore, and everything he felt, and thought was a weapon that he'd placed in its hands. Laxus, don't listen to him. Please… He pleaded, but he was trapped and distant as ever, unable to do anything as he saw Laxus straighten from the crouch that he had landed in, expression unreadable as he looked at them.

Did he believe them? Did he know that it wasn't Freed that was stood in front of him?

In the past, he wouldn't have doubted for a second, because Laxus had always known. Able to sense the darkness sometimes even before Freed had been aware that he was beginning to slip away, but this was different, the darkness around him was different. Deeper, stronger, and Freed was terrified that, that wasn't the only thing that was different now.

Laxus…

The Dragon-slayer was moving towards them, slow and steady, and his expression was slowly losing its blankness. Softening with what could only be called relief, seemingly blind to the destruction around him and Freed shook his head, battering across the walls of his prison once more. Laxus! Laxus, it's not me! It's not me, pain silenced him, and he tasted blood, unable to do anything but watch as Laxus closed the distance between them, reaching for him. Freed couldn't feel his touch, at least not more than a whisper of it breaking through to his prison, and his eyes burned at having even that stolen from him. "Laxus," he felt his lips move, voice low and strained, just as Laxus had once told him he sounded like when he was fighting against the Demon. It was a clever trick, a trap woven in a single word, and he was locked in place when Laxus reached up to brush his hair out of his face.

"Freed…"

"You came," the Demon whispered, sounding relieved and desperate, even as malicious delight flooded the space where Freed was. It was enjoying this and Freed closed his eyes.

"For him," Laxus' voice which had been soft, but now it shifted to a growl, and this time Freed did feel the grip on his arm because it turned bruising, and his eyes flew open again. The Dragon-slayer was staring at them, through them, as though he could see right into the depths of the darkness to where Freed was trapped. Seeing him, and the Demon for what they were.

The Demon realised at the exact same moment, and it snarled, the chains around Freed tightening and flashing darker than ever, forcing him deeper as pain rent his mind, threatening to tear him asunder from within. Punishing him for the Demon's own failure. Then Laxus was gone, flung backwards, as the demonic script flowed between them, lashing out like dark whips, as the Demon sprang back, twisting Freed's face up into a snarl as it demanded.

"How did you know?"

The sight of what had happened to the rest of the guild, and to what Laxus supposed were Tartaros foot soldiers had fed the growing knot of fear in his chest as he passed over the surface of the creature, distantly aware of Evergreen and Bickslow spreading out around him. Where was Freed? Had he been caught up in whatever had happened? Was he…? Laxus couldn't put that thought into words, the idea that Freed might have been so close and still slipped through his fingers more than he could bear, yet growing, threatening to overwhelm him, until there was a flash of green and purple, wreathed in darkness.

Freed…

…the Demon…

Lightning crackled around him, and thunder roared as he landed on the ground behind Freed, the impact enough to crack the ground. He was distantly aware of the statues – not statues, his mind reminded him – rocked violently, and he had terrified moment of waiting for them to crack and break even though he was unable to tear his attention away from Freed. There had been a terrible tension in his partner's figure, but now Freed turned towards him and all thought of anything else fled his mind because for a wild moment he thought that it was his partner who looked back at him.

"Laxus…" Freed whispered, and there was such relief and hope in his words that Laxus found himself being drawn forward despite himself. Turquoise eyes meeting his, with no trace of the darkness that he had expected with the Demon in play, and it made him hesitate before he stepped up and reached for Freed. Felt Freed melt into his touch as he murmured his name once more, and Laxus stared down at him. It looked like Freed, and even the darkness that he had seen before had disappeared, no trace of it remaining in the air immediately around them, and there was no trace of it in Freed's expression or appearance, as though the Demon had never been there, and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

"Freed…" He murmured, reaching up to brush a strand of green hair out of Freed's face, and there he saw it, a flicker of disgust that couldn't be hidden entirely, and he knew, and it was a struggle not to wrench his hand away immediately.

"You came," Freed sounded relieved and desperate, no trace of that disgust bleeding into his voice, stretching out a hand towards him, like a drowning man who saw salvation in front of him.

"For him," Laxus murmured, trying to keep his voice soft for the real Freed if he was there, trapped deep inside, but he hadn't been able to stop the growl sliding into his voice as his grip tightened, holding the Demon in place with a firm grip as he stared into Freed's eyes. Freed can you see me? Can you hear me? He wanted to ask, but he wouldn't give the Demon the satisfaction, instead taking pleasure in the way its expression twisted in fury as it realised that the game was over, darkness bleeding into Freed's eyes and skin a split second before darkness erupted between them.

It was Freed's magic, but not, the runes twisted and mutated into something dark and inhuman, and it burned as it lashed against Laxus, shifting darkness becoming sharp chains lashing against him, forcing him back, away from Freed. His own magic crackled with the threat of retaliation as he braced himself, skidding to a halt, and lifting his head just in time to see the darkness embrace Freed once more. There was no longer any trace of the turquoise in the eyes locked on him, just deep pits of darkness, a gateway to hell he thought – one that Freed was trapped in, and that he had to find to free him from. Because, this wasn't like anything he'd seen before, as dark chains spread up across Freed's skin, looking as though they were buried deep within his flesh, or perhaps part of it, and Laxus twitched, longing to reach out and tear them away.

"How did you know?" The Demon demanded, voice a low hiss and Laxus' lip curled up in a smirk at the frustration in the Demon's voice. It had placed too much faith in its act, although for what purpose Laxus wasn't sure, because he knew that the Demon wanted nothing more than to rip them apart, and it had never bothered with the act before.

However, he was not the one to answer the Demon's question.

"Because the first thing Freed would have said was 'why are you here?'" Evergreen's voice rang out, as she stepped out into position behind Freed.

"Or an apology," Bickslow added, mirroring her position.

"Or, told me to leave," Laxus finished, meeting the Demon's gaze without hesitation and for a moment he could have sworn that there was a flicker of Freed in the dark eyes before it grinned at him in turn. There was something malevolent in that expression that immediately had the Dragon-slayer on edge.

"No wonder, he felt so hopeful at the sight of you," the Demon said with a laugh, that was as cruel as it was amused and Laxus flinched, not liking the use of the past tense. At the implication that Freed might have given up right in front of his eyes. "But it was too late. You were too late this time." He turned his head to look at Evergreen and Bickslow, and Laxus tensed, ready to lunge forward if it made any move towards them, knowing that Freed would never live with himself if he hurt them. Still, after a moment it's attention shifted back to Laxus, and it tilted his head, studying the Dragon-slayer. "You can't bring him back this time, you know?" It asked, as conversationally as though they were discussing the weather.

"I will bring him back."

"The problem is, he isn't yours anymore," the Demon seemed unfazed by the promise, the sheer certainty that Laxus had forced into his voice. "He's mine." Fingers, clawed now, with darkness seeping from them to cloud the air reached up, tearing through cloth, and baring Freed's shoulder to the air.

It took Laxus, a long, painful moment to spot it amongst the writhing pattern of chains that constantly moved across Freed's skin, a living, breathing tattoo. But there nestled amongst that chaos, seemingly scorched into the pale skin was a mark. "What did you do?" The question slipped out, more pained than growling before Laxus could even think about stopping it, and he knew that he had played right into the Demon's gaze when it grinned at him.

It wasn't a pleasant grin, but one that promised pain.

"I brought him home," the Demon stepped forward, and the darkness was spreading now, barriers rising around them, a cruel mockery of the barriers that Freed had erected to protect them before. "He paved the way for this," it continued, reaching out to run a claw over one of the barriers. The writing that wasn't quite runes glowing purplish-red under its touch, and distantly he heard Evergreen hissing a warning for them to stay away with it, seeming to recognise something in the writing. Then again she had always been better with the runes than either of them, but Laxus couldn't spare her a glance, because the Demon was advancing now. Prowling towards him and there was a pressure in the air that he had never felt before from Freed or the Demon. It was dark, like the absolute blackness of cloud-covered night, and cold, and hungry…and powerful. "So did you, because without you he would have kept fighting me, but then he sacrificed himself and his magic, and here we are."

"That's not an answer," Laxus snarled, all pretence of patience disappearing because this wasn't Freed and he didn't need to be able to see or hear Freed to know that every word this creature was saying, would be breaking his partner a little more. "What did you do?" He demanded, each word enunciated by an ominous rumble above them, and static crackled against the barriers, making them flare. Rather than looking concerned, the Demon looked delighted at his anger, at his readiness to fight.

"We…" It said deliberately, leaving Laxus in no doubt that there would be no getting Freed back from this without a fight. Its eyes alight with unholy delight as it met Laxus' gaze, and he could practically feel the darkness stretched around them, quivering with anticipation. "Embraced Hell…or should that be we were embraced by Tartaros, as the Tenth Demon Gate…"