Disclaimer: I do not own Fairytail.
Summary: It's the end of the world. Nothing is left, no plant, animal, or human... almost.
A world.
The world.
No world.
Why? He didn't understand it. The dirt, and the grass, and the sun, and the water. Water, flowing down, giving.
Life.
But no longer. No world of his had that. It was a desolate wasteland. He held it in his hands, gripped it tightly, holding on so tight that it crumbled within his fingers and he was left to watch it fall in horror, in surprise. But most of all, in reluctant acceptance. It was not his to hold. It was his to destroy.
And indeed, he had.
Alone. When was the last time that word hadn't lingered in his mind. When was the last time he had been together?
8 centuries? Nine? He didn't remember.
Self-loathing. It hurt. It hurt so much. He stared at his own fingers, resignedly. When had he become so indifferent? He didn't know that either. It turned out, he didn't know a lot of things. This world was nothing. He had killed it. Oh, had he killed it. It had been so easy; so easy, it was an accident. How? How could you destroy the world on accident? He didn't know that either. But somehow, he had managed.
Was he the last man on Earthland? Probably. He didn't actually know, he supposed. He didn't exactly travel. He knew it wouldn't matter. Everywhere he turned would be dead. He was almost happy for that. In a sickening sort of way. Nothing left to kill. He had done it. He could love as much as he wanted now, and nothing could stop him. Nothing could break him. This world had ripped him, torn him, screamed and hit and pulled him apart piece by piece, over and over. But he was still here! He was still here and it couldn't break him! What was it he felt? Triumph? Was that it? Perhaps it was something like that. There was nothing else to feel, after all.
And if there was, what would it be? He often wondered this. There was nothing else to wonder about, nothing else to do but wonder. Sadness maybe? Depression? Hm, wouldn't that be amusing? The wind ruffled his hair, making him close his eyes and think.
Thinking about how it could've been different. Different had he just given up. Different how? He didn't know. But anything would've been better than this.
It was a rather fitting end for the world he thought. Love, that which created life, destroyed it as well. The prospect almost made him laugh. It did, every time.
Hope.
Why?
Did you.
Do it?
Voices. Clawing at him, screaming and asking. They never did give up, did they. Though now, he had become indifferent toward them. He couldn't block them out. He couldn't make them stop. But he ignored them. There was nothing else to do.
Die.
"I would if I could." He told them softly. He wanted to. Wanted to. But he never got what he wanted. This world was proof of that. He giggled and gazed around at the sight of it all. "There's an odd beauty in dead things, you know." He said aloud. "They're so still and empty, untouchable. It makes me shiver at the thought of being so cold, so non-existent. So utterly removed and unconscious to the decisions others make. It sounds like true bliss, doesn't it?"
Fix it.
"I can't."
He had given up on that forever ago.
Forever ago seemed like a lifetime away. It seemed empty. And if he looked back it was like he was an intruder. Gazing upon a past, a story, a person, that was not his to gaze upon. A stranger. Like gazing upon a stranger.
There was a time when he would cry because someone hurt his feelings. There had been a time where he would sob from scraping his knee on the concrete outside.
Trivial.
He would've laughed at that sobbing child. Oh would he laugh! He would laugh so hard, so long, cracking up at nothing. Nothing to others, that is. But it would just be so ironic. To see his younger self, much younger self. Or even who he was 400 years ago. If he had told that person that this was the world he would end up in, he would've denied it. "Things would never turn out that badly." He would say.
And how wrong he would be.
He clawed his fingers into the dirt, staring at the gray sky. It was so lonely. Did it ever wish it could touch us? Just once. So close, so far, but so touchable. It would be so easy. To reach out. But it couldn't. Just as he couldn't. And the sheer cruelty of looking upon the thing you most desire in the world, yet unable to touch it, was astounding. It flooded him with disbelief. Every day. Every single day. Not much surprised him anymore. But he would never understand this. He never wanted to.
Tears filled his eyes. He was doomed. It was true. It was so very true. How doomed was he, how horrible, how dead, how miserable, how convoluted! It was devastating and yet… it was… okay. It was all okay.
And it would continue to be okay.
Because this was the world of nothing but one.
One.
Him.
Spriggan.
Cursed.
Emperor.
Evil.
Wizard.
Zeref.
Zeref.
Zeref… And that's all.
Zeref…
"Zeref." He felt like crying out. Like sobbing, his heart hurt so much. He couldn't. No. No. No! It couldn't be. His name echoed in his ears, bile rising in his throat. Voices and screams of pain and blood. Red, pale hands, soaked in blood. It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair! Why?
Why did they get to haunt him?
Why wasn't he allowed to be angry?
Why didn't he get to ask anything?
Why didn't he get to ask them why the haunted him for something he didn't mean to do, something he couldn't stop no matter if he wanted to or not. Why they drove him to this. Why they drove him to this world.
He wanted to scream, he did. It hurt, sobs, no… please… help… I need you…
"Zeref."
Zeref's eyes flew open and he sat up, tears streaming down his face. It didn't surprise him. Normally he would be angry with himself for feeling these things. But this morning, he was just relieved that wasn't the future he lived in. But what disturbed him more, was that it could've been… "Zeref, are you okay?"
He nodded. He always nodded.
But like always, his brother knew he wasn't really.
"Another dream?"
Nightmare.
"Yes." He said blankly.
"Did I die again?"
"No. You didn't. Or, in a way, I suppose you did. But that wasn't what was so terrible about it." Natsu snorted but he didn't correct what he said. "The world was empty. Completely empty. The only thing left was dirt. Everything else was barren, there was nothing. I was alone… I was left alone, to live alone, forever…"
"Doesn't it just make you gladder it's a dream?" he nodded.
"It does."
He felt his brothers stare on him for a long time and then arms and Zeref couldn't help but cry. He didn't even know why exactly, just that he needed it. But the lapse in self-control ended rather quickly, even though Natsu still held him after.
Zeref could feel his back rubbed, but barely registered the gentle touches. "You're gonna be okay." Natsu said.
"I love you." Zeref answered.
"… That's disgusting, you're not supposed to say it out loud but… I… feel the same."
"Heh, you can't even say the words."
"No, 'cause I'm not a sappy romantic like you are."
"I guess you're not… thanks, Natsu."
"For what?"
He sniffed, "You have no idea what you do… just by being alive."
A/N Poor Zeref, it was just a dream, but still. This was originally going to just be the state of the world but I had absolutely NO idea how to end it, so I made it a dream because why the heck not?
To Werva: I'm sorry there was no kiss last chapter but with it following closely to cannon it wouldn't make sense for Zeref NOT to do everything in his power to keep Natsu from kissing him. And thanks for your reviews!
To Werva (also. And anyone else who happens to be interested) if you want MORE Zeref x Natsu... not sure if they have a ship name... but I have written a multi-chapter focusing on the pairing. "The Devil and Me". Not your thing, whatever. But just in case you're interested.
Sorry for the long A/N, but thanks for reading this little oneshot. Hope you found it enjoyable. Don't know when this will be next updated though... but see you then! Bye!