A/N: Holy shit you guys are so patient with me thank you so much. I'm so glad you enjoyed the first chapter and I'm sorry this one isn't longer. I've had some serious struggles in my personal life the past few months and only just coming out of them, but I'm super excited to share this chapter with you guys 3
Big shoutouts to my friends who have been listening to me continuously bitch about how hard this story is turning out to be for reasons you will find out in this chapter.
And a big thanks to all of you who've been waiting on this for sticking with me. You're all amazing ^^ *hugs!*
He catches her purely on instinct, dropping hard to his knees and cradling her head. He's still reeling. Karen is two feet away. He's not quite back in his body yet.
He feels Lucy's magic fluctuate and withdraw from his fingertips.
It's waning.
He hoists her up into his lap and pulls her legs around his waist. Her back is damp and her cloak is shredded. He bites his lip at that. He doesn't want to think about how it got that way. He can't think about that right now.
He fumbles with the fabric and wraps the thickest strands under her thighs to knot them tight at his back. The thinner strands he spirals around her torso with as much pressure he can manage without tearing it, and one he rips free to bind her wrists so he can loop them around his neck. Its the best he can do.
It'll have to work.
He uses her weight to his advantage, balancing as rolls back on his heels to stand. She's not as heavy as he'd expected. Her head falls to his shoulder, breath ghosting over the skin of his neck in shallow puffs. Shallow but steady. Heart beat strong. Too slow, but still strong.
His is still pounding.
Karen's still. Right. There.
He swallows back a snarl, tightens his arms around Lucy, and tears his gaze away. Karen has her magic, and Lucy like this means neither of them can use anything against her if, god for-fucking-bid, she wakes up.
He needs to get out of here.
He's gunna be in so much shit. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He fucking runs and panics and hurts her and uses so much fucking magic that she passes out and Karen is right. Fucking. There.
What the hell is Karen doing here?!
He doesn't know where he is, but he can smell where Lucy'd come from and does his best to follow her trail back to the house as quickly as he can without jarring her too much. He stumbles whenever her magic weakens, but it comes back the very next second.
Her scent continues to fade, and he barely has time to worry about whether it's going to disappear entirely before Gray's panicked voice carries through the trees.
"Lucy! What the fuck is going on?!"
Gray bursts through the treeline and comes to a standstill, gaze skittering over every inch of Lucy wrapped around him. He knows he looks like a mess. He's frantic. His hands are slick, and though its dulled and dry, the smell of blood surrounds him.
Gray's expression darkens instantly. "What happened?"
He lowers a shoulder so Lucy's hair is out of his face and sticks out his tongue. The healing nerves of the split still feel raw, but he moves both sides anyway and pulls on one of his lip rings with his teeth.
Gray's jaw hardens in acknowledgement and his anger turns murderous. "If Karen's here, we need to go and we need to go now," he spits.
Then he turns and sprints.
Lucy's legs are falling low around his hips, but he doesn't want to move and risk opening anything that's stopped bleeding, so he bounces on his heels to heft her up before following Gray's hastily retreating form. It's only about a minute more before he's back at the house.
Everyone's moving around, and Gray's yelling.
"Whoever's using magic for anything that isn't necessary, stop! Whoever has ongoing background spells in progress, cut them off! Push everything you've got back to Lucy! The only one other than her using magic should be Cana!"
Gray's running through the group of familiars, and all of them are cleaning up and pulling everything back into the house. Fires are being stomped out, supplies for food and baking put back in the house. Every possible trace of the evening's celebration is wiped from the grounds, with everyone only just barely glancing at Lucy in his arms.
Gray starts pushing people into the house but keeps calling over his shoulder. "Cana, divert everything you've got to the barrier around the house! The perimeter is gone! Everyone get inside now!"
Gray rushes over to him and grabs his shoulder, pulls him off to one side and makes a sharp gesture. It's only a few seconds before Cana's there.
"Where did you and Freed agree on the warp this time?" he asks, hushed.
"That rock by the stream," she answers.
"Key?"
"Bit of blood from everyone passing through."
Gray nods, "Okay, you got this?"
Cana smirks, "You really asking me that?"
Gray claps her where her neck meets her shoulder and gives it a slight squeeze. "You'd do the same."
Cana grips Gray's wrist briefly before letting their hands drop. "I know." She makes for the house, walking backwards. "I've got them. She won't find us. We'll be here when you get back, okay? All of us."
Gray nods and Cana leaves.
Gray then turns to him.
"C'mon. We need to get her to Wendy. Now."
Gray takes off into the the trees and he follows closely behind, knees high over roots, and bent low beneath hanging branches. He recognizes the route as they come into the half-destroyed clearing Lucy'd been when he'd gone to get her. Gray rounds one of the splintered trunks and waves him over.
His eyes further adjust to the shadows, and a large, jagged rock with a concave, bowl-like center.
Gray rests one foot on a smoother part of the rock and pulls a knife from his boot. "We're not the only group like this," he says, bringing the blade to his palm. "There's Yukino and her familiars too." Gray pulls, and the smell of fresh blood reaches his nose. "Since we can't use magic on each other when bound to the same witch, dividing us up so we have one of each on either side was our best option."
Gray holds the knife out to him. "I need some of your blood."
He swallows and nods, and Gray makes a small nick in the meat of his shoulder. Just enough to bead up, spill over, and coat the top of the serrated edge.
"Cana is our barrier magic familiar. Freed is theirs." Gray swipes gently and Lucy's back with his other hand. "They not only put up the walls that keep us hidden, they make warp gates together for us to get back and forth. Freed so we can get through, and Cana so they can get through." He juts his chin down to the rock. "Sit. This might make you nauseous."
He sits at the same time Gray does and pulls Lucy close. Gray rubs his hands together, leans down, and wipes them along the sides of the rock.
A bright golden-blue light ignites instantly, rolling over the red that darkens the stone, enveloping the streaked palm prints, and then the whole rock. It tingles as it reaches him and he closes his eyes when his stomach churns at the sudden violent tug. His skin feels like it's being pricked from all sides, through all layers, and his lungs scream and pull for air but he can't get any.
The light builds and then vanishes, and with the darkness once again he can breathe. He barely has any time to recover before Gray is yanking him up from the stone and pushing him along.
"Yukino!"
Gray moves ahead, breaking into a light jog, and so he doesn't lose sight of Gray, he follows at the same speed. He digs toes into dirt to keep upright when his legs threaten to give out and keeps pushing. He pulls Lucy closer.
"Yukino!"
The area they break into this time at first glance seems empty, but the slam of a door draws attention to lights flickering within a gathering of what looks to be vines. Moonlight catches on a bright white shock of hair, and a large, silver, spindly sigil encasing the entirety of the familiar's left arm.
"Lyon," Gray grits out, "where's Yukino?"
He's a mirror reflection of Gray in everything but his expression. His eyes flick between Gray's advancing pace and Lucy, but when they land on him, his face only darkens. Wisps of water vapour swirl around one hand as he sizes them all up.
"Lyon."
The wisps swirl within Lyon's palm, steadily gaining in size and speed, crystallizing with an aura of intent that has him clutching at Lucy and freezing in place.
"Lyon."
It grows.
"Lyon!"
Lyon's eyes bore down, unwavering.
Gray grabs Lyon's wrist and twists it downward so fast Lyon doesn't have time to avoid it. He can only react after the fact and shove Gray away, clutching his hand to his chest. "What the fuck, Gray?"
"We don't have time for your shit right now," Gray turns to him and waves him over. He starts back up the hill. "Lucy's hurt. Where the hell are Yukino and Wendy?"
Lyon ignores him. "Who's he?"
"Lyon, are you kidding me right now—"
"Who's the guy, Gray?!"
Gray ignores him and pushes past, "Yukino!"
With a flick of the wrist, the air condenses and freezes, wrapping around Gray in a vice grip. The ice swells, etches into scales, spikes, and talons before a snarling, fanged, horned head materializes, moving in to stare at Gray with glowing white sclerae.
Lyon comes to stand beside the animated ice with the same white eyes. "He did this. I can smell it. You think I'm letting him anywhere near Yukino and Wendy?"
"We don't have time for this!" Gray struggles in Lyon's grip and the ice dragon bares its teeth with a loud, rumbling growl. Its eyes flash and it hisses strongly enough to freeze Gray's hair back from his face.
Lyon's hold tightens, and air wheezes from Gray's lungs.
A low snarl builds in his throat. What the fuck is this guy doing to Gray? Why are they here if he's just going to do this and not help?
"Lyon, let him go."
The glow fades from Lyon's eyes as the soft voice washes over. The ice loosens around Gray but still holds him in place. Lyon doesn't make a move to release him entirely.
"Lyon."
He shudders as the gentle sound waves curl and roll down the length of his spine. It seems to have the same effect on Lyon and Gray as all the tension leaves their shoulders and Gray is released.
He feels a slight prodding at his heart, throat, nose and eyes, and he feels so full a few tears escape, and with it, the fear and guilt clawing in his chest dissipates. He can roll his shoulders and the weight is gone briefly before the imposing magic vanishes.
Empathic magic.
The witch stands in the door, one arm across her chest to hold onto the other. She stares at him curiously, dark eyes scanning, and he feels a gentle brush at the inside of his forehead. He flinches back at that and she pulls away immediately, an apology evident on her features. Short, white hair falls across her face as she bows briefly before righting herself. She doesn't break eye contact during the exchange and he can't look away.
"It's safe. Let them in."
He manages a blink.
Lyon stiffens. "Yukino, he—"
"We all have at some point, Lyon," Yukino looks to Lyon, and Lyon immediately straightens. "Your concern is appreciated but there are more important things to consider right now, like what will happen if Lucy dies."
Yukino looks back to him and Gray.
"Let's go. Get her inside."
—
Whereas Lucy's home is a stone and wood cottage, Yukino's is a winding underground network of torch-lit, earthen corridors that shift. The fire flickers and glints off the dirt, flash-frozen in a similar way to Gray's cigarettes with an ice that cannot melt simply through outside heat.
Every few walls or so, Yukino gives a quick knock, a new pathway opens, and another closes. With how quickly they're moving, he can't keep track of where they've been, not that he thinks he'd be able to do that anyway.
It doesn't take long to come to a door that Gray nearly rips off its hinges to get inside.
The room is small, lit by light trapped within round glass, hanging from the ceiling. Shelves line the space, full of jars, wrapped fabrics, basins, cloths. There's a tall cot in the center of the room.
He hasn't even made a step toward it before Yukino's at his side, slicing at Lucy's cloak to free her. When he starts walking she doesn't stop him, just follows alongside, continuing to cut.
Gray darts around, pulling various items from shelves and lining them up on the counter. The calm mask and tone he'd managed to keep up until now cracks. "Yukino, where's Wendy?"
Yukino moves to his back and he feels Lucy's arms go slack around his neck. They still hook over his shoulders, so she should be fine, but he moves a fisted hand higher up her back anyway to keep her from falling.
"She's been on an assignment the past week," Yukino answers. He feels another tug, and one of Lucy's thighs drops down his waist. He catches it with his free hand and lowers her feet—one by one as Yukino frees her—to the ground gently. "Checked in about an hour ago. Should be back any minute."
More hands crowd him, this time Gray, as they all maneuver Lucy to lie face down on the sheets. He and Yukino make quick, practiced work of prepping Lucy. Fingers to her neck for a pulse. Back of the hand to her nose for her breathing. Pulling her hair up and away from her back and the shredded remnants of what was once clothing.
He balls his hands up and crosses his arms to hide them.
Yukino reaches for a stack of bandages on one of the higher shelves, "It's dried by now, can you—"
Gray's already grabbing a basin. "Got it."
They move around the room, Yukino cutting away what she can from Lucy and Gray getting ice from Lyon that Yukino warms and then sponges onto Lucy's back.
The smell of blood fills the air and he covers his nose.
Bit by bit, Gray and Yukino peel the tattered cloak apart, working it gently out of the dried blood and deep gashes in Lucy's back. The wounds don't re-open, Yukino makes sure of that, and the more skin they expose the less he can look at her. They're thick. Deep. Bright and dark red at the same time.
They match his still-streaked fingers.
He can't look anymore.
He instead stares at the ground and focuses on isolating out the sounds of her breathing. They're barely audible, slow and gentle, but there. He struggles to match them.
"Okay," Yukino's voice finally breaks the prolonged silence. "Get out."
His head snaps up.
So does Gray's.
"What?"
Yukino looks to Gray. "You heard me. Out. I have to get her out of her clothes and ready for Wendy. It's not just her wounds that need healing, She needs an origin infusion and—"
Gray is having none of it.
"I have seen her naked, Yukino," he growls, "does that really matter when—"
"Out!"
The word shocks through his system, scraping through every nerve. His whole body tenses, freezing in place for only a second before flipping to the urge to bolt.
Gray still hasn't moved. "Yukino—"
"Wendy'll be here any second. Lucy is stable. If she were more critical then I wouldn't care, but she's not." Yukino levels Gray with a dark stare. "So, go. All of you. I can't continue until you do."
Gray spins on his heel and stalks out.
Lyon's answering smirk doesn't go unnoticed.
"You too, Lyon."
That wipes it right off his face. "Hey—"
"Go!"
They're barely out in the hall before the door slams behind them and the only sound left is the crackling of the fire along the walls. He backs up against the closed door and sidles into a nearby corner, as far as he can manage from the room, light, and ice-demon familiars. Gray's shoulders finally hunch in. He's exhausted.
"I hate it when she does that." Gray rubs at his eyes before combing his fingers through his hair. "Influencing emotions is one thing. Projecting them into words is another."
Lyon on the other hand, is riled up to spring. He stands stock-still, roiling with…something. Anger. Humiliation. Resentment? It burns behind his eyes. Locks his jaw. Pulls magic to his palms.
Whatever it is, he doesn't hold onto it for long before taking it out on Gray.
"She wouldn't have to if it weren't for you." Lyon snarls. He curls his hands into fists, extinguishing the wisping frost. "Start talking."
Gray glares. "I don't owe you shit—"
Lyon cuts him off with carefully articulated words. "You came into my area, with a familiar we've never met, covered in Lucy's blood. You owe me exactly what I asked for." Lyon's upper lip curls. His canines grow…what looks like subconsciously. "What the hell happened."
It's not a question.
Gray tilts his chin up and doesn't say a word.
Lyon sizes him up. Gray's face fixes into an expressionless mask. The air grows heavy, and it feels even harder to breathe than before. If Gray says something, and Lyon sees him as a threat…is Lucy going to throw him back to Karen?
What are they even doing?
Lyon seems to find what he's looking for because it only takes a few seconds for his anger to morph into disbelief. "You don't know."
Gray visibly bristles at that, "It's not your—"
"Are you fucking kidding me, Gray?" Lyon gestures wildly, looking away from Gray to lock eyes on him. He swallows at the hatred there. "He tries to kill her and you bring him in?!"
"He wouldn't—"
Lyon doesn't spare Gray a glance. He's not listening anymore. Doesn't care. Lyon just refocuses and advances.
He presses farther into his corner.
"What the hell did you do?" Lyon's hands swirl with magic again. Curled, open, unbridled, crackling at the fingertips. The glow comes back to his eyes. The snarl to his lips.
He presses his own into a thin line and fights the instinct to pull on magic. He can feel Lucy's pulsing. Still weak, but stronger than it had been. He can't…he can't do that…again…
"What happened?" Lyon presses.
He has no idea.
He says nothing.
Lyon lunges.
Lyon's out of his face quicker than he can blink and Gray's back fills his vision. Gray's face contorts and he lets out a grunt as ice encases his entire left side, arm to shoulder and ribs.
"Talk!" Lyon yells, ignoring Gray and lunging for him a second time. Lyon's iced hand once again makes contact with Gray's side, and Gray hisses before forcing Lyon away with a shove from his free shoulder.
"Leave him alone, Lyon!"
He doesn't deserve to be left alone.
"What did you do?!"
He doesn't know.
"This is not how we deal with things!"
He had no control.
"Talk, dammit!"
What did he do?
"He doesn't talk!"
The hallway goes silent.
And blissfully, so does his mind.
He hadn't even noticed he hasn't said anything…
The binding had closed his throat, a latched on vice. Every time he tried to speak, it dug deeper into his tongue. He'd only managed a day of his usual backtalk before he had to stop. There'd been too much blood loss…especially without any food or water.
He'd ripped his tongue in half. It was a damn miracle in itself that he'd noticed he could move the bar back and forth with his teeth within the slit his talking had created. In all his decades he'd never encountered a piercing a familiar could touch or move. This one he could.
His tongue was still sore. Healed on the surface, but still difficult to move. Physically, there was no reason he couldn't form words. It's not like he doesn't want to.
He just…can't.
He wants to…fuck does he want to. But it won't come. The words don't come. His muscles tense. His throat goes raw. His heart pounds. It gets hard to breathe.
He just…can't.
Lyon breaks the silence.
"He doesn't talk."
"No."
Lyon's gaze narrows. "What are you even talking about?"
Gray lets out a heavy, impatient sigh. "He doesn't talk. That's exactly what I'm talking about."
Lyon closes his eyes and bows his head, rubbing at his brow with the heel of his palm. "What the hell does that even mean he doesn't talk? You don't just not talk. It's not a luxury we can afford—"
"We don't know, Lyon," Gray grits his teeth and digs his fingers into the ice, prying a chunk away from his ribs. "He hasn't said a word since he's been with us, and it's not our place to make him."
"Then how do you know he isn't just keeping quiet because he's—"
"Look at him," Gray steps to the side, and Lyon's in full view again. "Do you seriously think he's going to hurt anyone?"
Lyon's gaze flickers to his bloody hands. He doesn't look impressed. "He has."
Gray sighs. "He's freaked out. He was bound to Karen, Lyon. For who knows how long."
At Karen's name he clenches his jaw and curls fingers into claws. She'd been right there. Right. Fucking. There. He could've—
"Shit," Lyon breathes.
His head snaps up to Lyon.
Lyon runs a hand through his hair and dissipates the remainder of the ice around Gray's arm. "Why the hell didn't you lead with that?"
"You didn't let me," Gray deadpans.
Lyon sighs and moves to lean against a wall, arms crossed. "What do you know?"
Gray turns to him. "You okay with me talking?"
He levels his head. He doesn't have an issue with it. And even if he did, it'd be forced out of Gray one way or another eventually.
Gray turns to Lyon.
"Last night, Lucy was out following a lead on Karen that actually turned out," Gray starts, backing up against the wall opposite Lyon. "She found her chasing this one—" Gray juts his chin to him "—half dead, and Karen was about to bind him again. She would have if Lucy hadn't intercepted."
Lyon sinks further into the wall, scrutinizing Gray. "How do you know she didn't let him loose to lure you in? You can't rip bindings out of skin."
Gray looks to him again.
He sticks out his tongue, wiggles both sides, and pulls it back in.
"He had a blade bind. Ripped it out himself to get away." Gray explains, turning back to Lyon. "The current theory Lucy and I are going with is, if sharp enough, you can remove bindings from muscle. Not skin."
Lyon rubs at his eyes. "He was bound instead of properly recruited."
"He was half-dead when Lucy found him. She didn't have much of a choice."
Lyon quiets.
The ground reverberates. Just slightly. A hall passage or two changing a little ways away. He can feel it tickle the soles of his bare feet and back from where he's leaned.
The fire pops.
Lyon looks up at Gray. "So, you know nothing about him, is what you're telling me. Are you seriously that irresponsible?"
Lyon's voice is ice.
His stomach sinks and this time, he doesn't suppress a snarl. Who the hell is this guy to say shit like this to the people only trying to help? What the fuck is wrong with him?
Lyon's gaze snaps over and he tilts his head up, challenging. "You got something to say, slash?"
Gray's expression turns murderous. "Don't call him that."
"That's what he is, isn't he?"
Instantaneously, Gray's got Lyon pinned up with a forearm to his neck one second, and flinching at a knee to his gut the next. Ice crackles and covers the arm at Lyon's throat as he claws at it, but Gray doesn't flinch, just digs in deeper.
Lyon can't move.
"Check your privilege," Gray snarls.
He pulls back from Lyon and Lyon crumples to the ground, hand pressing to his mouth as violent coughs rip from him. His breathing wheezes as he gets to his hands and knees to sit cross-legged, back against the wall.
Lyon looks about to say something but Gray cuts him off.
"You're a familiar. Just like him. You know what most witches are like." Gray moves to loom over Lyon. "Give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Why should I?" Lyon's voice sounds, quiet and hoarse. He lets out another painful cough.
Gray crouches in front of Lyon, rocking back on his heels. The visible rage melts, giving way to a cold, calculating stare that has Lyon's breathing halting. He rolls his jaw, tilts his head to one side, and shifts forward onto his toes, face inches from Lyon's. One brow lowers and his nose scrunches for only a millisecond, but there's no doubt about the disbelief and disgust shown.
When Gray speaks, the words carry such weight they may as well have come from Yukino.
"Are you so far removed from your past, that you don't remember what it's like?"
Lyon stills.
Gray slowly tilts his head to the other side. "You once told me, your witch before Yukino would use her magic to drag you into the line of fire to defend herself. That to prep you for that, she'd throw you into walls to build up your ice's durability. That when your ice failed, you would break half the bones in your body and be left to heal on your own."
Gray grabs at the fabric of Lyon's shirt and pulls him up to eye level.
"Are you telling me," he sneers, "that you can't remember what being bound like that—" Gray points to him "—what bound like he was, was like?"
Lyon says nothing.
"You and I were fortunate enough to have only had a few bindings, decades ago, Lyon," Gray drops him, and Lyon lets out a soft grunt. "He's had at least a dozen and has only had a few hours away from them. And even then, he isn't free because he doesn't believe yet that he is." Gray stands and Lyon refuses to look at him as he does.
"So cut him some fucking slack," he finishes.
Gray backs up to the wall opposite Lyon's and slides down to the ground. He bites his lip before flinging his ice-covered arm against the wall to shatter a decent amount, enough to start chipping away at it.
With a flick of his wrist, Lyon dissipates the remainder of the ice.
"Didn't need you to do that," Gray grunts, pulling his knees up and slinging his arms over them.
Lyon shrugs. "Whatever."
They can hear a bit of murmuring from within the infirmary, a voice of a different timbre joining Yukino's. He cocks his head to one side as he eyes the door. Where'd the voice come from?
"You two fighting again?"
His head snaps up.
Red eyes glow beneath a low-pulled hood, and the imposing presence of disappointment is suffocating. Wrists encased in circular sigils come up to pull the fabric back and deep pink hair tumbles down over shoulders.
Another familiar.
"Meredy," Lyon lets his head loll back against the dirt and flinches when it hits a touch too hard. "When did you get back?"
"Just now." Meredy shifts all her weight to one foot and hooks a hand on her hip. Her head snaps over at a loud clang from the room and then the slightly raised voices. "Wendy's back too then?" she asks.
"Sounds like it. Probably came in the back halls." Lyon shifts to crouching and pushes himself to his feet. The glance thrown his way this time is full of a lot less malice before it falls to Gray.
Lyon looks like he wants to day something, but turns around instead.
"C'mon, Meredy," he says, walking just past her, "let's get your debriefing over with."
Meredy follows behind Lyon, but quickly glances over her shoulder.
"Lucy attacked by a new one again then?" she asks, quiet.
It's all he manages to make of their conversation before a wall shifts and he's left with his thoughts.
And his thoughts really hate him right now.
Lyon was right. He's a slasher. A fighter. A killer.
He's a weapon.
He's a weapon, and he'd carved into one of the only people he'd ever met who seemed to care about anything that wasn't themselves or money or power. And he…he couldn't even remember it. He didn't know how it had happened…just that it did.
What the hell kind of person is he to be responsible for something like this and not even remember having done it?
A firm double-pat to the face pulls him from his thoughts.
Gray's crouched in front of him.
"There ya are," the hand moves to his shoulder, "you alright?"
…he doesn't know how to answer that.
Gray shakes his head to himself. "Dumb question. Of course you're not."
With a heavy sigh, Gray falls to sitting, mirroring his cross-legged seated stance.
…when had he sat down?
He rubs at his forehead and eyes. Fuck, he really is losing his mind.
"It's not your fault."
He looked at Gray with the most deadpan expression he can manage.
"Oh don't give me that look," Gray returns the glare, "it's not. Nobody will think it is, least of all Lucy."
His eyes flicker over to where Lyon just was and Gray's gaze follows his for only a second before he scoffs.
"Lyon's a fucking idiot sometimes," he says. "Lately, he's been dealing with familiars we're rehabilitating that have been flipped. Brainwashed to the point of being a threat. When they attack, they mean it and they kill."
He blinks at Gray before looking down. Witches are ruthless. Though all the familiars he's come in contact with so far have always fought against the binding, or been complacent to protect themselves or someone they care about, he'd never met one who'd switched sides completely.
He'd never heard of that happening.
He can't even imagine what they'd have to have been through for that to happen.
"I'm not making an excuse for him," Gray continues, "because he's a fucking dick sometimes. But it doesn't come from a malicious place. He just doesn't always think."
Hmn.
Gray shifts to lean against the wall closest to him and close his eyes for a minute. "You don't deserve that though. So, I'm apologizing for him. We don't blame you. Lots of us have done it…" he trails off.
The fire crackles.
He barely hears it when Gray speaks again.
"Some of us worse than others."
—
It seems like both hours, and only seconds when the door finally creaks open and Yukino peers out to wave them over.
"Wendy's done the initial healing. You can come in now."
Gray springs up and looks like it causes him physical pain to not bolt right after Yukino as she disappears back into the room, instead glancing back down to him and offering a hand.
He shakes his head. He can't yet.
Gray nods, "Come in when you're ready," and slips away.
He pulls his knees up to his chest and presses his forehead into them.
What's he even supposed to do? Would she want to see him anymore? Would she throw him back to Karen for hurting her? They say that she wouldn't and all seem to understand him but it only takes a split second for everything to change. He could find himself abandoned in another witch's territory in a flash. Literally. They've got familiars specializing in warps. Those ones are dangerous.
Fucking hell.
He swallows the bile climbing up his throat and pushes himself to standing. Better to get it over and done with. Worrying only makes him suffer even longer.
He gently pulls at the door, careful not to let his anxiety get the better of him and end up gouging giant chunks out of the wood. Not the first time his fear has gotten to him in a destructive way, but it had been awhile. He'd been more unstable in the past twenty-four hours than the past twenty-four years…and then some.
The voices are soft enough he can't hear them from where he's standing, and soft enough still he can make out Lucy's breathing, stronger and more even than a few hours ago. That eases the acid churning in his chest and he lets out a low breath before inhaling in relief.
He turns to stone at the scent that hits him.
He can't move.
His gaze narrows in at the newest figure in the room, the owner of the new voice, hovering by Lucy's head with fingers buried in blonde locks. They emit a faint glow as they comb through and prod around Lucy's brow, ears, jaw. Long blue hair pulled up into pigtails. Eyes focused.
He falls to his knees.
His whole body goes numb.
Then those eyes are on him.
Everything fades. He can't hear anything. He can't taste the air. He can't feel the cold of the floor. All he can see are those eyes and all he can smell is her.
And then her hands are on his face, wiping at his cheeks, and looking him all over and he can't breathe. He can't breathe because her arms are wrapped around his neck in a vice grip and her tears are soaking into the skin of his shoulder and her crying is echoing in his ears and she's warm.
She's alive.
And then he's holding her with everything he's got, hands curled into fists and arms hanging on because there's no way this can be real. There's no way. She can't be alive. She can't be here. She's dead.
But her heart is racing and she's very nearly squeezing him to death and—
"Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san."
They cling.
He has to be dreaming.
His senses come back in waves. A word here, a sound there. A flicker of light catching his attention and then the slight sour taste of disinfectant in the air. It grounds him. Almost as much as the ache in his knees from dropping to the stone as hard as he did.
"Wendy?"
The call comes from Yukino, and she pulls back from him to answer. He doesn't catch what she says. He can't, because tears prick his eyes.
Tears prick his eyes.
Because she has a name now.
She looks back to him and he cradles her cheeks in his hands. Wiping the tears. He tilts her face back to him. Nose. Lip. He scans the shells of her ears. Still empty with the exception of a conch on her right side. The only new one is the conch, and a quick glance to Yukino tells him it's her active one.
She was freed. She was safe. No new witches after the one they'd had. She'd been spared.
Wendy.
It suits her.
"You're alive," Wendy breathes, breaking into a blinding smile. "You're alive."
He should be the one saying that.
"What happened?" Wendy asks, sitting back on her heels. "One minute, you're going off with the rest of the them to a fight, and the next the cabin's in chaos and everyone's freaking out because of the attack and—" she bites her lip and shakes her head.
He remembers.
He remembers their witch at the time. What she did to him. What he made sure she did to him so she wouldn't do it to Wendy. What he did for her to protect the younger familiar. He would have done anything.
He did…do anything. To save her.
And their witch at the time had killed her anyway.
Wendy was supposed to be dead.
"What happened?" she asks again, and he shakes his head. He can't. He can't tell her. Even if he could make his lips move, she can't know. She'd blame herself when it was entirely his decision and actions that led to the revolt in the first place. To that fight that had killed so many of their own and so many others.
He taps her twice, just below the dip of her collarbone. What happened to him isn't important. What happened to her, is.
She tilts her head to one side. "What—"
"Wendy," Yukino looks back and forth between him and Wendy, "you know him?"
Wendy's attention diverts back to Yukino and she nods, still smiling. "Yeah. Remember the dragon I told you about? The one who was bound to the witch I had before you found me?"
Yukino's eyes widen. "You said he died?"
Wendy lets out a wet laugh. "We got separated, and I could feel so many of us die through the binding before our witch got killed. I felt a few really strong familiars disappear until I was the only one left and when I went back I couldn't find him. Someone told me he died." She looks back to him. "I guess he didn't."
Her smile falls then as she looks at him. Really looks at him.
"Oh my god," her voice cracks.
Fingers trace over the angel bites, his lip ring, the cuff on his right ear and the cross hanging from his right lobe. She chews at the inside of her cheek as she looks to the hoops hanging from his larger horns. She doesn't dare touch them and he's grateful. Of all his bindings, those are the ones that are the most sensitive. The most agonizing even though inactive.
"What…"
The last time he'd seen her, he'd only had the three hoops in the shell of his left ear.
"I've…I've never…" She can barely speak.
He looks away.
He knows.
"There's so many."
He knows.
"I've never seen that many."
He knows.
"What happened?"
He shakes his head again and looks away.
"Nii-san," she moves back into his field of vision, body tilted to one side so she can't be avoided, "what happened?"
He can't. In more ways than one.
Evidently her focus shifts from his piercings to his neck since he finds her prodding at the haphazardly sewn gouges with a light touch. "Hm. Lucy did a good job."
The heat that emanates from her fingertips makes his skin tingle with pins and needles, a flash of pain and then complete absence. She repeats the process with his cheek before moving her hands just under his jaw to press at his soft spot.
She swallows and her voice shakes. "Open up."
He clenches his jaw.
"Nii-san." Her gaze darkens, forceful. "Open. Up."
He bows his head and uncurls his tongue.
Wendy bites her lip and finishes up the job Lucy had started within seconds. He can't help the swell of pride he feels at her mastery of her magic. She'd only been tinkering around with it when he'd first met her, and now she doesn't even have to think about it. There's no furrow between her brows, or narrowing of her eyes. It's effortless.
She's so strong.
When her hands move to check his origin, he snatches at her wrists and holds them away from him.
He won't let her feel that. She can't know what that feels like.
He offers a small smile and she seems to drop it.
"Wendy, does he have a name?" Gray voice sounds from where he's sitting at the foot of Lucy's cot. He's got a hand on one of her ankles, but his gaze is intently focused on the floor where he and Wendy are currently kneeling.
Fuck his knees hurt.
He shifts to the side to sit back down and stretch his legs out in front of him.
Wendy turns to Gray, blinking. "He didn't have one when we were bound, but he might have gotten one since." Her lips purse slightly, puzzled. "Why're you asking me? Wouldn't he have told you?"
The glare he sends Gray's way is the most threatening he can manage in his current state, and the apology sent back to him makes his stomach churn. He can't tell her. She can't know. She—
"He hasn't said anything since we found him," Gray says.
Wendy doesn't seem to understand.
"What do you mean he hasn't said anything?" She looks immediately back to him. "Nii-san?"
He looks away from her.
"Say something," she pleads.
He grits his teeth and fights at his eyes burning.
Wendy just stares at him with wide, unblinking, innocent eyes.
Her breathing hitches.
"He's…the loudest person I know," she says. "He…he doesn't shut up." The smile isn't genuine anymore. It's forced. Watery. "He's so annoying. He pesters me all the time. He never lets me get any sleep because he won't stop telling me stupid stories." Her words start to slur together, voice thick. "And he'd be so boring I'd fall asleep anyway and he never stops singing."
He bites his lip and pulls Wendy to his chest as she lets out a soft cry.
"He never shuts up," she says, fingers digging into his back. "He never shuts up what do you mean he hasn't said anything?"
He stays silent as he lets the tears roll down his cheeks and into her hair. He looks to Gray.
'Do you have a name?' Gray mouths.
He shakes his head.
No. He doesn't.
—
Eventually Wendy has to stand and get back to Lucy for a second session. Her healing magic he's always found to be captivating, and he thumbs at the slightly raised skin of his new scars. She couldn't reverse damage, she could only speed up the process of cell division so people could heal themselves. It required enough stamina on the part of the healing party, so he wasn't surprised Lucy would take multiple sessions.
Lucy lay on her stomach, head turned away from him, long hair hanging over halfway to the floor. Until now, her breathing and heartbeat remained relatively steady, but with the start of Wendy's healing, they picked up pace a little bit.
They pick up even more speed when she begins to stir.
Her words aren't audible from where he is, but Wendy attentively drops into a crouch to listen and then nods. She gives the air over Lucy's back one last swipe before hooking her hands below Lucy's underarms and helping her shift to a seated position.
"Woah!" Gray panics. "She should not be up right now what're you doing?!"
Wendy doesn't pay him any attention. "She's exhausted, yeah, Gray, but it's not going to kill her to sit up. Everything is closed, it's just her blood that needs replenishing and I can work with her bone marrow while she's sitting."
Gray looks like he wants to say more but Lucy cuts him off. "I'm okay, Gray," her voice is rough, "I'm good." She moves slowly, turning to Yukino. "Can you get me a—" she waves vaguely off in one direction but Yukino seems to understand what she's talking about.
The fact that there's a stack of spare cloaks on a nearby shelf makes him wonder just how many times Lucy's been here for this situation before. Meredy had made it sound like it was inevitable. And frequent.
And with the efficiency and lack of initial panic Gray'd had when finding him with Lucy, and how quickly Yukino had ushered them in and gotten her all set up to be treated…he wouldn't be surprised if it was.
Lucy shrugs into the dark cloth and draws it around her shoulders.
"Cut me out, Wendy," she says softly, "I can't really breathe with these."
Within the privacy of the fabric, Wendy slices through the bandages and discards them into a nearby wooden box. Lucy gratefully takes in long, deep breath and lets it out in one large gush.
She then maneuvers herself around on the table, one hand holding the cloak closed, until she's facing him.
Her face looks pale. She looks absolutely exhausted.
But the warmth of her smile contrasts her exhaustion completely.
"Give us a minute?" Lucy asks, not looking away from his face. The slight protest from Gray earns a shake of her head and a bit of a hushed conversation. "I'm fine. Give us a minute."
Gray still won't go.
Lucy sighs, "You don't want to see this again, Gray. I know you don't."
Gray swallows.
Yukino comes around the table to touch Gray's arm. "C'mon, Gray."
Gray lets himself be pulled from the room.
"Do you want me to go too?" Wendy asks, and his stomach turns violently at the thought of her leaving his sight again.
Lucy's eyes snap to his at the wave of emotion and a faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I think he'd be more comfortable if you stayed. Doesn't seem to want to let you go anywhere."
Wendy nods.
Lucy waves him over, "C'mere." Her teeth shine.
He doesn't want to move.
He gets to his feet anyway.
He comes to stand in front of her and she scoots toward the edge of the table. "First of all, I want to thank you for saving me."
He bites the inside of his cheek, hard. She only needed saving because of him in the first place.
Lucy aims a playful glare at him, "If that hadn't happened the way it did, we'd be in a helluva lot more trouble than me just being injured. Trust me on that."
What is she talking about.
She shakes her head, "I'll explain later. For now I'm going to tell you about who I am."
He listens.
"I'm Lucy Heartfilia," she starts, "a witch raised by my mother who fought for the rights of familiars and was killed by those who opposed her beliefs." She winces slightly as her feet touch the floor. "I believe that what's being done is wrong, and I'm doing everything I can to reverse the socially enforced roles that have warped relationships between witches and familiars."
He feels it through the binding. Everything she's saying is true.
"Making sure you feel you can trust me is my top priority," she continues, running her free hand through her hair to gather it all behind her shoulders, "because I don't expect you to now, if ever, nor would I want to force you. Trust is something earned, not taken, and I won't take anything more from you than what's already been stolen."
He whole body is buzzing.
"I wanted to show you this."
She comes to a standing position, brings one arm to cross and cover her bare chest, and lets the other support the fabric of the cloak as it falls to the cot.
Shit.
The scar is huge.
It covers almost half the area of her torso, spanning from her right hip, across her chest, and wraps around her left arm.
It's a pattern of swirls, some areas darker than others that blooms over the swell of her breasts. Wraps around the juncture of her neck and shoulder. It's discoloured darker, red in some places and puffy and pulling at regular skin in others. Tiny tendrils that split apart and bend over the curve of her collarbone and disappear into the hollow of her throat.
It's like nothing he's ever seen before. Dusturbingly beautiful in its design.
He has a feeling he knows where it's from.
"Gray was my first familiar," she tells him. "He's the first I've ever bound because I've been so against it I had sworn I never would." She grabs the dark fabric from the bed once again to cover herself back up. "But when I didn't, Karen stole Loke, and I swore I would never let that happen again."
Lucy stumbles back into the bed and he unconsciously moves to reach for her.
Wendy has her though and helps her back up.
"So, instead of binding him when I found him unconscious," she winces at Wendy's touch and Wendy expresses a faint apology, "I brought him back to my house so I could talk to him." She lets out a soft laugh. "But he's a strong one. He'd been holding on to a decent chunk of magic for emergencies and when he woke up and saw me…" she trails off.
He bundles his hands into fists to hide his claws.
"I was expecting it," she rubs a hand against her cheek, "I mean as far as he knew I was the enemy. It would have killed me if I hadn't acted as quickly as I did with a counterspell. I couldn't undo the damage, but I could get rid of the ice before it froze my blood and bones."
He blinks. Gray's ice goes that deep?
"When it failed, he expected me to kill him," Lucy says. "He was out of magic, drained, and didn't have much fight left in him." She pulls her legs up to sit cross legged and the pain in her features dissipates as Wendy's hands move to her back again.
"Eventually, awhile later, he asked me why I hadn't physically countered against him when he attacked me," Lucy stretches her neck to one side and closes her eyes, "and to this day he still thinks I'm absolutely reckless and stupid in almost every way that comes to my health. In all honesty, he's probably right."
Golden eyes fix on him, chilling him through every cell in his body.
"I don't defend and take the attack, so you know that you could hurt me." And the strength and determination in her tone thrums in the magic rushing through him. "Because we are equal. We are not different. You can hurt me as easily as I could hurt you. I bind to protect. Not to control. And I don't defend because I want you to trust me, and if I want you to trust me I have to trust you first."
She stretches her arms out in front of her, bare. Burns. Criss-crosses. Lightning patterns.
"Some attack with residual magic when they've been recently freed from a binding. Others are more physical. Sometimes it's an accident." She stares at him pointedly for that one. "And there's no blame to put on anyone for reacting the way that you guys do. It's not your fault. It's not the first time I've been hurt and won't be the last."
Lucy's smile softens her eyes.
"I can feel your guilt, and your anger. I can feel your confusion and your pain. I can feel it all, and though I haven't experienced what you have firsthand, I understand you're going through something unbelievably difficult." She moves to thread her arms through the sleeves of the cloak and starts to weave it closed with the loose laces hanging just below the collar.
He looks to Wendy who's looking at him and nods. "You can trust them. They saved me. I've been with them for a really long time."
His gazes comes to rest on Lucy's outstretched hand.
He doesn't take it…
But he brushes his knuckles against her fingertips instead.
What're you thinking?
-xb