Magnolia was on the horizon, visible through the early morning fog. Levy walked with purpose and did her very best not to dwell on Erza's sullen silences and filthy looks. At first she thought it was because the woman was upset about Wendy. And that was part of it. But it wasn't all. Every now and again she'd say something pointed about lies and secrets that would make Levy falter, thinking about her Council mission and the secrecy Draculos required them to keep. She always recovered; Gajeel, on the other hand, was getting twitchy, tired of Erza's short temper, so much so that Levy thought it would be he that finally snapped and asked Erza what in the good hell she was talking about, but it was Carla. Carla who hadn't slept very much at all, and was suffering from her temper being on a very short and very brittle leash. Carla, who was still struggling to keep her transformation in place so she could firstly check on Wendy with ease, and secondly carry her every now and again.
"Nothing," was Erza's short reply. "I just think integrity and truthfulness are characteristics to be held above all others."
That was the end of the snippy comments, but not the dirty looks. She had something to say. Levy kept waiting for it to bubble over; Erza was mute, much better at keeping her tongue in check now. A year away from Fairy Tail had taught her an ounce of patience. Levy didn't imagine that he was something that would last, but for now…
Gajeel came to Levy's side and tugged her back a few feet. Levy fell back behind Erza, Lily and Carla. When she was a safe distance away and no one seemed to notice her absence, focused as they were on Magnolia on the horizon, she leaned into Gajeel and whispered, "What is it?"
"Look," he hushed back and pointed.
Levy followed his finger, looking around Erza and Carla carrying Wendy. Magnolia stretched and stretched, like a dirty boot print, grey and depressed, filled with muddy rainwater. It was dingy, even in the light of the sun. Looking at it made Levy feel sad. It was such a beautiful town when she first joined Fairy Tail. "Do you think it'll ever go back to what it was?"
"Eh?"
She took her eyes away from the city to look at Gajeel. "It's ruined."
He hesitated, then shook his head. "Maybe on the surface it's wrecked, but it can be rebuilt." He looked uncomfortable saying it, unused to placating anyone's woes. "That's not what I'm looking at, though. Over there." He pointed to the northern corner of the city. From this vantage point, almost everything was visible. Including the dark cloud of what could only be Ethernano.
"Another drain site," Levy breathed, recognizing it for what it was.
"Yeah, looks like it's in action. We should ditch these guys and go check it out."
Levy gnawed on her lip. "I want to get Wendy settled first."
Gajeel said, "We might miss our opportunity."
Levy knew he was right and strived to be practical. Wendy was hurt, but Carla and Erza were with her. She'd have the best care they could physically offer her.
At the head of the pack, Erza turned to glower at them. "Why are you lagging behind?"
Levy lifted her voice and said, "Gajeel and I are going to find Porlyusica, Erza. We'll send her your way."
The look Erza gave them was brimming with suspicion. She didn't get an opportunity to voice what was bugging her; Lily sidetracked the conversation. "From here, it looks like Fairy Tail is still rubble." They all turned their eyes outwards. Lily was correct, even from so far away, it looked squashed. "We need somewhere to let Wendy rest."
"Where are we going to find a place to accommodate all of us?" Carla sounded fragile, on the verge of breaking from exhaustion and stress.
"Briar's Lock Motel is still operational," Levy offered. She knew because she'd spent months looking over the Council's compiled damage reports for this region after the Tartarus attack, never quite able to fully distance herself from it.
"Then that's where we'll go," Erza said decisively. "Bring Porlyusica there." The command wasn't lost on Levy. Bring her. 'Escort her so you can't go wandering,' is what she didn't say. "And be careful. We were attacked in Raven's Canyon, but that doesn't mean that there aren't more enemies here as well."
"Yes," Levy agreed. "You guys, too." She looked to Lily, half expecting him to join them.
The cat wavered, then came to a decision. "I'll stay with Wendy."
Gajeel nodded once, firmly, then directed himself toward Porlyusica's cottage. Levy rushed to keep up.
"Zeref." Natsu looked from Zeref's shoes, up, up, up. He was in his customary robes, looking as pale as usual. In his hand was a thick black book, leather bound. It was old; Natsu could smell the crusty pages, dry and delicate. He could feel the sick power emanating from it's binding. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. He scrambled out of the hole into a more favorable position. Splinters dug into the pads of his fingers. It should have been painful, but between the cold in his hand (it had never hurt so badly) and the adrenaline, he couldn't think about something as stupid as that. This time when he stood, the rubble shifted but he didn't fall through. "You have some nerve coming here."
"Part of me hates that you look at me like this now." Zeref's smile was as small and sad as ever. "So full of rage. It never used to be that way."
Natsu was hit hard with his dream, with the hopelessness and lament that lingered there. Not real. Not real. He gathered his resolve and ignored the dark mage's strange words. "Come to get what you deserve? I'm going to enjoy kicking your ass." All he had to do was look around at the ruins that was Magnolia and he had enough ammunition to fuel his fury for a long, long time. The sympathy and confusion generated by his dream lost some of its hold.
Until Zeref said, "I came to complete the rest of last night's memory, actually… You woke before it was through."
Natsu faltered. What he wanted to ask was, 'How the hell do you know about that?' Admitting any knowledge of it seemed like a bad idea, though. "I don't know what you're talking about." His fire came to his hands when he asked, scalding hot. "Quit blabbing and—"
"I went through a lot of trouble to implant that memory pod in your palm. A girl nearly died to make sure you recalled who you are. The least you could do is listen."
Natsu caught on one thing: girl. The rest of Zeref's sentence fell to the wayside. "Those murders? You're behind them?"
Zeref sighed. "Well... yes. And no. I told Eileen and Akio to wait until we exhausted this avenue. But they're impatient. All those lives..." He looked sad again. Blackness licked at his knuckles, overbearing and dangerous power caressing his body, begging to be released; the feeling it left behind was haunting. Every one of Natsu's senses told him to run. He stayed, as stubborn as a bull. Good thing, too. Zeref clenched his fingers and hauled on a hard face and the magic fell away.
"I can't even mourn their passing, for fear of all that will die if I do," Zeref muttered. Louder, he said, "I actually meant your healer, Natsu. She and her party were intersected in Raven's Canyon to give this time to unfold."
Healer...? There was only one that Natsu knew of. "Wendy?"
"Is that what you call her? I just thought of her as the girl that was supposed to die," Zeref said flippantly. "She's stubborn, though. Her love for life is astonishing."
Natsu's tongue felt thick. "Why would you attack her?"
Zeref explained, "Don't think I enjoyed sending my demons to do it, but the memory pod needed time to work. If she showed and healed you, negating its effects, I would have to turn to other, more drastic measures."
Against all odds, Natsu recognized that determined look on Zeref's face, the one that said not yet.
It's fake, Natsu thought viciously. The only thing you know about Zeref is that he needs to pay for what he's done. He called more magic into his hand and imagined a scenario where he did something with it. His palm felt icy. It was a feeling that was slowly trying to take over his body. Focus. "You had no right!" Wendy...
"It was either her life or countless others!" The hand Zeref used to hold the book was unsteady. He noticed the same time Natsu did and looked rather annoyed by the human response. He took a deep breath and composed himself. In a calmer voice, he said, "Believe it or not, this way was easiest. The time has come, Natsu. One way or another, you'll remember you're my brother and become the monster I need you to be."
"You're kidding, right?" Natsu didn't know what else to say. That dream was between he and Lucy. No one else knew about it. He drew the only conclusion he could.
"I don't joke much anymore," Zeref said blandly.
"Drop the book and let's do this, I'm sick of looking at you." It wasn't entirely true, he kept looking for the boy in his dreams, the one that patiently fed him broth, told him stories, held him when he was sick. He shrugged off his need to remain sedentary and swung at Zeref, thinking action would put his thoughts right. It always worked before.
Fire singed the hem of Zeref's robes but that was all; he'd easily sidestepped the attack. "You're no match for me as you currently are."
That only made Natsu angrier. He lifted his foot and snapped it at Zeref's middle. The rubble beneath his feet rolled, throwing him slightly off balance, making it easier for Zeref to catch his leg and toss him to the ground. Natsu hit hard, wood and glass digging into his body, trying to slip inside his shirt to make him bleed. He attempted to get up. Zeref used his foot to pin him back to the ground.
"Let me show you what became of Valentina and Mother." There was zeal to his eyes. "It's important that you understand where you came from, Natsu. What you really are. Who."
No. Natsu grabbed Zeref's leg and let his fire engulf the dark mage. Zeref didn't try to defend himself, just let it come.
Natsu realized why a second later: he couldn't sustain his magic; a deep dark pit was calling to him. He was falling, falling, falling into dream. Memory.
He hadn't wanted to see the man die, but he watched anyway, because that's what you did when you forced someone to suffer. The only words Zeref said to him as he drew the blade across his throat was, 'This is how you earn my kindness.' Every inch it slid across the man's bearded throat, his hand shook badly. Seeing the blood made his breath come short. Natsu felt just as sickly entrapped, looking at the world through Zeref's eyes.
The way Zeref convinced himself that this was worth it was by telling himself that while yes, he was taking this man's life, he wasn't wasting it. Natsu would live much better than this man had chosen to. He'd grow and love and laugh. He'd hurt and cry, feel a myriad of things all at once, so many that he would be overwhelmed. It would be terrible and wonderful, exactly how life was meant to be.
The blood slipped down the man's front. He stopped thrashing—not that he fought all that hard to begin with; he'd snuck upstairs while Mother was sleeping and had stolen a bottle of mulled wine and finished it. He was drunker than a skunk. So drunk he didn't even realize his grave was opening wide like a maw, ready to swallow him whole.
When the gurgling had just about stopped, Zeref dragged the man toward the giant lacrima that sat along the back wall. This was the tricky part. He shoved the man into the hungry crystal. It absorbed him quickly. Then he grabbed Natsu's pale and limp body out of its Ethernano encasement. Lastly, he needed energy, a catalyst to make it all come together. From the beat up work bench, he gathered up another lacrima, this one so overfull with magic, it was on the verge of explosion. The power hummed out of its cracking surface. Natsu felt Zeref's heart palpitate as again he went through the process of generating the explosion. Enhancement magic combined with an explosion spell of his own. If his calculations were correct, the force generated should be enough to activate the R system. Should be enough to thrust this man's life into Natsu's. Should be enough to fix everything that was wrong in Zeref's world. And if it went wrong and the lacrima didn't absorb the blast... well, half of the city would be a crater. It'll work. It had to; this was the only option he had left.
Looking into Natsu's chubby and chalky face, Zeref said, "Mother won't cry anymore, Natsu. She'll be happy again. We'll all be happy again."
Natsu was privy to Zeref's internal struggle. His terror. He didn't want to die if things went wrongly. Yet, he didn't want to live like this any longer either. He honestly felt like he had to try.
Inside the lacrima, the light was leaving the homeless man's eyes. It was time. The lacrima began to glow, absorbing his life-force. I can do this. I can do this, Zeref chanted. Natsu will be home. Only one man has to die for Natsu to come home. It's alright. I can do this. He summoned his magic. It was still new to him; it slipped away once before he could call it back and harness it properly to make it do what he wanted. The explosion he created came hot and fast. The smaller, broken lacrima, already unsteady, exploded with little provocation, lighting up the basement like a little sun. The heat it generated was overwhelming. Zeref closed his eyes and turned his face away.
The world turned black.
Natsu half expected that to be the end of it. How foolish he was. Time passed; he couldn't say how much before he opened his eyes. Dark hair obscured his vision. He was still experiencing his life before the present era, living through Zeref. No, he thought viciously. You're experiencing all of the things the Zeref wants you to. These aren't actually his memories. But everything was so real, from the feel of the cold concrete beneath his back, to the tingles in his fingers where the magic used to be, to the smell of burning hair. Mine. Zeref's. He sucked in a dust-choked breath and coughed. Someone else joined him. His heart catapulted into his throat. Though he felt sick, he sat up and peered through the grey smoke. Small fires burned in every corner of the room. Between his outstretched legs was a crater in the floor where the lacrima used to be, burned right down to the earth trapped below the concrete.
"Zeref!" Mother's voice came down the stairs, full of fear. "Zeref! Are you down there?"
Zeref took a small breath; it was all his lungs could handle. "I'm here, Mother."
"Thank the gods." She sounded normal to Zeref in that moment, his mother once more, not the husk he knew her to be. "I think there was an earthquake. Tell me you're okay."
Sitting up hurt. He did so anyway, eager to see the result of his experiment. Through the smoke, a small figure fidgeted. Pale. Pink all over, hair, skin, cheeks.
"Zeref!" Mother's sandals on the stairs were loud, her steps uncertain. "Answer me!"
He couldn't. Clambering on hands and knees, he crawled through the hard bits of rock and other rubble to where Natsu blinked out into the world with new eyes, eyes darker than night.
It worked. It worked. What did the university know? What did Mother or Valentina know? They were all wrong. It could be done.
Mother came to the landing. "Zeref—" She trailed off when she saw what he did.
Zeref touched Natsu's cheek just to make sure he was real. His skin was warm. Natsu lifted his hand and grabbed Zeref's wrist, as if holding him in place. It was disorienting for Natsu the passenger to watch himself, small and still frail, get used to breathing again. Using Zeref's mouth, he asked, "Do you see, Mother?"
She didn't respond. Zeref kept his eyes trained on his brother, afraid he'd disappear, so he could only guess at the expression on her face. "Mother? Mother, do you see? Mother?"
"Zeref..."
He touched Natsu's forehead to see if there was still a fever. He was as warm as any living person was meant to be and no more. "It worked." He gathered Natsu in for a tight hug. And Natsu hugged him back.
"Ze—ref."
Zeref. Natsu couldn't quite quantify the intense feeling in his chest—in Zeref's chest. He'd never felt happier in his life, not even when Igneel burst from his body and made himself known. The freedom from the guilt and the pain was shockingly immediate. Zeref started to cry, bringing the dragon slayer right along for the ride. "Yes, Natsu. Are you alright? How are you feeling? Thirsty? Hungry? Tired?"
"...No."
Distantly, he heard Mother take a small step toward them. "Is it really…?"
"Yes." Without looking away from Natsu, Zeref extend his hand, waiting for Mother's. She took it; her palms were clammy. Her breath got short.
"Really?"
Zeref pulled her to her down to her knees. Neither of them looked to the homeless man crumpled and whiter than a sheet. His sacrifice hadn't been in vain, but Zeref couldn't give him the credit he was due; he couldn't take his mind away from this miracle.
Through Zeref, Natsu watched as Mother touched his forehead. As soon as she determined that he was real, she threw her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably, muttering again and again, "My baby is home. My baby."
Zeref encircled them both, feeling like he had everything. His nose was tucked into Mother's rose-gold hair when he felt the first pang of coldness. He tried to dismiss it, but it only grew. And grew. And grew until he could ignore it no longer.
"M—Mother—"
"What is it, Zeref?" She didn't sound concerned, or even like she was really listening. She just hugged the resurrected Natsu while tears streamed down her face.
"I think—something is wrong."
There must have been seriousness to his voice, because she lifted her face from the top of Natsu's head and met his eyes. He could see that she didn't want him to continue, she didn't want to know that something awful was about to grace their home again. "Nothing is wrong, Zeref. Nothing will ever be wrong again."
Nothing is wrong. Nothing. She said it with so much conviction. Zeref wanted to agree, but he couldn't, not with every nerve ending coming alive and burning. "Something's happening to me."
She shook her head furiously. "No, Zeref."
Yes. The air in the basement got leaden, and not just with the smoke, it was something new. Something that filled him up with every breath until he couldn't breath anymore, until he couldn't see anymore, until he was just ugly sensation, stuffed to bursting. "Mother—" The first tendril of black shadow swirled around his fingers. When it touched Mother, she flinched.
"What is that? What's happening?" Zeref released her and Natsu and stood. The panic he was feeling was blinding. Trapped in his body with nowhere to go, Natsu watched everything unfold, knowing what was coming next. He wished he could pull away. He didn't want to see the darkness come. He especially didn't want to experience what it felt like first-hand. He was a slave to Zeref's memory, ensnared. Before the killing curse came, Zeref got entirely cold. His heart stopped. Atticus' warning trilled in his head.
'Cursed.'
Blackness ballooned. Zeref screamed, unable to help himself. Mother joined him. An outsider looking in, Natsu watched his own eyes go wide. His mouth remained firmly closed, though, like he wasn't surprised or scared.
A black cloud encompassed every inch of the basement, darker than a starless night. Mother stopped screaming. The cloud cleared. In its wake, Mother lay on the ground, lifeless, one hand still touching Natsu's back. Zeref looked to Natsu, expecting the worst, and saw that he was still alive, shivering.
The next words the resurrected boy spoke were, "What happened to Mother?" Zeref hiccupped in breath after breath, trying to figure that out for himself. Natsu seemed almost unaffected, brushing Mother's light rose hair back from her face. "Is she sleeping?"
Sleeping. Zeref's heart ached. "She's… she's dead, Natsu."
He lifted his eyes. Black, depthless. "Dead?"
"Taken into the Reaper's halls." His voice quivered with every word. What happened? What was the blackness? Will it come back? Is Natsu in danger? Those were only a few of the questions roaming Zeref's mind, choking the real Natsu half to death.
"Is the Reaper going to come for us, too?"
Zeref swallowed. "No, Natsu, no. He won't bother us again."
Of course, he knew in his heart that was a lie.
I've had enough, Natsu thought viciously and tried to pull away from the unfolding play. Zeref's hold on him was ironclad. Down they went, further into the depths of memory. Days passed in the blink of an eye. Zeref dragged Mother's body out into the backyard when the sky was dark of the moon. He worked as tirelessly as he had when he'd dug Natsu from his place in the earth.
Who knew he'd be such an aficionado when it came to digging graves? There would be more and more of that, too. The bodies would pile up until it no longer made sense to waste time digging holes in the earth; after all, people still needed places to stand. That wasn't until much, much later, though.
The time Zeref didn't spend covering up the evidence of his faux pas was dedicated to learning Natsu's limitations. He'd forgotten most of his memories, which was both a blessing and a curse. All of the things he'd been taught, reading, writing, basic mathematics. Everything was gone. But he remembered Mother. He'd forget that she was dead and ask for her. Patiently, Zeref would explain again what happened. Sometimes he was vague, sometimes he was detailed; it depended upon how much he wanted to make himself suffer. Natsu would always cry. He would also always stop.
It wasn't until a week went by that Zeref felt confident in calling on Valentina to show her that she had been wrong. He left Natsu locked in his room and braved the streets. He caught Valentina when the sun was high, awkwardly carting a huge bag of flour into the bakery.
"Valentina." He was terrified to approach her, yet he found courage from somewhere.
She stopped her shuffle and looked at him over the top of the grain bag. Wariness flashed over her face, and a slight hint of fear. Most profound, though, was longing. That look gave Zeref the nerve to continue to her side, to take the bag of flour from her hand, to invite her over that evening. She said yes, of course.
The memory rocketed through several hours of priming and preening. Zeref paced, worried, and when he didn't pace, he checked himself in the hallway mirror, fixing his hair, then Natsu's, too, and their robes, making sure they were straight, the whites white, the blacks black.
Living in Zeref's body, it was impossible for Natsu to escape how nervous the dark mage was. His palms were in a cold sweat and his stomach was all knots.
"Who is Valentina?" small Natsu asked from his seat at the kitchen table. There was a rice cake in front of him, drizzled in maple syrup and mostly picked apart. His face glistened with the sweet. He'd been bottomless since waking, unable to ever keep himself full. Zeref wondered if that was a by-product of being dead and then alive. As far as side-effects went, it wasn't the worst he could think of.
Zeref grabbed a cloth and wet it, then scrubbed Natsu's face. "She's… she's someone I care about." Love. Natsu saw it all too clearly, dwelling in Zeref's head. He didn't want to give Zeref that much credit—he wanted to think he couldn't love, but the feeling was impossible to deny.
Young Natsu asked, "Then why are you scared?"
Zeref paused his cleaning to think hard on the answer. Finally, he told the truth. "Because, the last time we met… I wasn't very nice to her." The image of her spilling on the ground, curls going everywhere, eyes wide and frightened, petticoat left on the bed… it filled his head until there was no room left. The shame of knowing he'd made her walk through town like that, for countless men to ogle, then subjecting her to ridicule and punishment from her father for arriving home so indecently, haunted his thoughts, sneaking in when he wasn't prepared.
"But I'm hoping that today, we can make it better." Everyone can be happy again. It seemed like such a far-fetched dream.
The door sounded. Zeref went stiff as a board, his eyes gone wide. "That's her." Then he just stared at the entryway.
"Aren't you going to answer the door?" Natsu asked.
"I—" Zeref rubbed his palms on his robe, trying to wipe away the sweat. It only came right back. "No."
"No?" Natsu repeated.
Zeref swallowed what felt like the hugest lump. Natsu had never experienced such anxiety before. It wasn't a great feeling, even if it was second-hand, and he'd be thankful for when it was over. "What if she hates me?"
At the table, Natsu started swinging his legs. "You haven't talked to her. How will you know?"
Everything was so simple from a child's perspective. Zeref took in a fortifying breath. "You're right."
The memory sped. Going to the door, opening it wide. Valentina standing there in her best dress, her hair elaborately pinned. Her lips were plumped, her cheeks rouged, and her lashes darkened with some makeup. She didn't see Natsu at first, only Zeref. Everything zipped by, the words Zeref said, Valentina's response. Apologies all around. She stepped in, the door closed, and then at the table, Natsu munched loudly on his rice cake, drawing her eyes.
Her face went white. The memory slowed up. "Zeref, what have you done?"
"What I needed to." Zeref said it confidently. "With a bit of hard work, the gods have given me a miracle, Valentina. He's alive, and has been for a week."
She breathed, "Is this a trick?"
"See for yourself."
She went to Natsu on stiff legs and touched his face, pushed back his hair, brushed crumbs from his mouth. Her hands quivered. "It shouldn't be possible… Natsu?"
Natsu watched himself blink and focus. "You smell like Mother when she makes pie."
Valentina's smile was a million watery watts. "Your nose is as keen as ever. I'm sorry, Natsu, I didn't bring any to give to you. Next time."
Zeref said, "There are cookies in the cold room, Natsu. Will you get them?"
Natsu chirruped like a regular boy was supposed to and leapt from his chair. With every passing day he became a little more leveled, less like a blank slate and more like the brother Zeref remembered. Maybe his memories will even return.
Valentina loosed a lungful of air and faced Zeref. He half expected to see fear and fury on her face, and there was some of the former, a touch of the latter, but mostly it was just wonder and joy. And tears. "This is incredible." She came to him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a bone-crushing hug. This close, Natsu realized that his young self was right, she smelled overwhelmingly of vanilla. His sensations merged more fully with Zeref's as Valentina's body pressed into his. Her lips landed on his cheek.
"I'm so happy for you and your family, Zeref. Was it very difficult?"
She didn't know the lengths he had to go to, nor was he going to tell her. "It wasn't easy, but I'd do it over again." Without hesitation.
Valentina leaned back so he could see her smile, and then kissed him flat on the mouth. "I'm sorry we've been apart."
Zeref felt a wash of shame. "It's my fault. I was just so…"
"You were hurting. But everything is better now." She kissed him again, a press of her lips to his.
"I—I love you." It came out muffled, muttered against her lips. She repeated his words fearlessly. Zeref closed his eyes, trying to hold onto her words, memorizing them. 'I love you.'
It felt like such a private moment, Natsu wanted more than anything to sever the memory sequence. He couldn't, though, not until the last played out. He was aware of the change before memory-Zeref was, the coldness that started in the center of his chest and expanded outward. He opened his eyes and saw Valentina's freckles dusting her cheeks, but beyond that was the black that eased out of his skin, looking sinister.
"Zeref?" Valentina came away from him. Her skin was raised in goose bumps. "Zeref, what is that?"
"I—" No. please. No. Natsu didn't know if those were Zeref's thoughts or his own. Maybe they were synonymous. The blackness expanded from his body, seeking life just so it could snuff it out. "Run, Valentina!"
"What?" She was slow, confused and scared.
Gods. "Run! Please!" Zeref staggered back and tripped over his own feet, trying to move too quickly. It wouldn't have mattered anyway; she was still paralyzed. The curse stole the breath from her lungs, the beat from her heart, and left behind a shell.
She was buried beside Mother.
Natsu came out of the (dream? Memory?) gasping and sputtering, cold from head to foot. The sun was well past its zenith.
Zeref's voice cut through the confusion. "For weeks we continued as we were. It wasn't until I realized the extent of the curse that I tried to end my life. I knew I'd be leaving you behind, but I was too afraid of killing you, too, Natsu. Every time I looked at you, I felt my curse try to take your life away. I tried throwing myself off cliffs, drowning, slicing myself open to bleed out. I even took one of Father's revolvers and shot myself. It hurt when I finally woke days later, but I couldn't die. I decided to stop after that, because you'd found me and instead of going to the neighbor, you stayed by my side in the basement and ate bugs because you couldn't cook." He laughed depreciatively. "When I woke, you told me they tasted bad.
"It was a hard decision, but I came to understand that if I wanted to you live, you had to change. You had to become stronger than my curse. And so… I crossed yet another line no man was ever meant to. I made you a demon."
"Shut up and get off of me," Natsu said. He attempted to push Zeref back; his muscles were like soggy bread.
Zeref continued. "You had two purposes: survive the terror I wreaked, and end my miserable existence. It was going to be perfect. But it seems Ankhseram had another laugh at my expense. You laughed and played, lived, Natsu, your power unrealized, while I was forced to continue on, living with the knowledge that you were not only dormant, your demonic half buried beneath this—" He looked at Natsu with utter disgust. "Façade, but your life is tied to mine. If I die, you die." He laughed humorlessly and lifted the book. A knife appeared in his hand, pulled from the folds of his robes. He dug it into the top left corner of the book's leather cover. On contact, Natsu's chest exploded in pain; blood poured out of a wide gash. He couldn't gather breath to grunt or swear, he could only hold the place and wonder, What the hell?
"See?" Zeref asked. "Isn't that ironic? Everything I've done, all this suffering… it's been utterly meaningless. At the end of the day, either I continue on in this empty existence, or we both die together." His face got hard. "Lucky for us, I've come to terms with what needs to be done. I'm ready."
Natsu clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering and tried pushing Zeref off with more force. Despite the pain, his body responded this time, gaining some well-needed space between them. He was on his feet in a second, swiping at Zeref again. The dark mage took the hit to the jaw like he took everything: unflinchingly. It only made Natsu furious. He growled like an animal. "What right do you have, huh? Where do you get off putting shit like that in my head? Lying?" He grabbed Zeref's throat between his fingers and squeezed hard. Zeref did nothing to free himself.
Natsu asked, "If you wanted to die, you didn't have to make up some elaborate tale, I would have gladly done the honours without having to jump through so many hoops."
Zeref closed his eyes, waiting, the expression on his face not full of peace exactly, but the echo the word left behind: something he wanted but had been denied for so long, he'd forgotten what it was exactly. He wanted the nothingness death could bring. Natsu thought he should be happy to oblige, but when it came time to summon all of the power he thought he'd need to destroy the darkest mage alive, he hesitated. Not for long, but for an instant, long enough to wonder if it was true, if Zeref really did sacrifice everything to save the life of his little brother. Then the instant was up and he told himself, it wouldn't matter anyway. One noble cause doesn't make up for all of the pain he's brought to so many.
Using every ounce of magic he could, he tried to burn Zeref from the world.
Muzzy was a good word to describe how Gray felt when the sound of incessantly chirping birds called him from slumber. Keeping his eyes closed, pale golden sunlight pulsing against his lids, he marveled at how shitty he felt, fuzzy and disassociated and still slightly ill. It was like having the worst hangover in the world, only with half as much fun beforehand.
All over again, he experienced Juvia tearing her arm from his grasp and whirling out of the room, too numb to stop her. And then finding her sitting at the guards' table while some other guy brought her a drink. Juvia, who didn't ever fucking drink. And then rushing into the alley to throw up everything he could because his body was just hating him. All these things to feel sorry for yourself for.
And today hadn't even really started yet.
A familiar voice asked, "You awake?"
"No," Gray replied and felt blindly for a pillow. He found a blanket instead and tugged it up, intent on burying his head.
His roommate cruelly grabbed it away. Gray dared to crack open an eye so he could glare at Loke. It took him a moment to find the spirit, he wasn't standing exactly at the side of the bed, but sort of down at the foot, where he could grab and take away the blankets without fear of being punched. "What the fuck?"
"It's almost two," Loke said.
So late.
"I didn't—" fall asleep until…? He couldn't remember. After the alleyway, last night was a blur of sweats, splitting migraines and dry heaving while Loke paced, looking agitated as he muttered about not being a nurse.
"I'm stepping out for a bit, Gray."
"Heading back to the celestial realm?" Gray wasn't sure if that made him happy or not; the company was equal parts annoying and nice. He didn't want to be alone feeling like this, cold all over, uncomfortable in his own skin. A look down his body revealed that his father's mark was a deep black stain that migrated from his forearm to his shoulder. His neck felt cold, too; if he had a mirror, he'd bet he'd see the evidence of its spread there as well.
"Actually," Loke said, "I'm walking my ass over to the Thorn and Thistle, and I'm asking whoever's working to tell me what room Juvia is in, and then I'm going to beg her to come back here so she can keep an eye on you so I can go back to keeping an eye on Lucy."
Gray came a little more awake. "Leave Juvia alone."
"No. While she's here, I suggest you have a nice long chat." Loke ran his fingers through his hair, trying to fix the askew locks. It helped not at all. He huffed a sigh and turned, heading for the door.
Gray swallowed; his mouth was so dry, tasting like shit. "Loke, wait."
The door opened and snapped closed, swallowing the spirit. Cussing, Gray hauled himself out of bed. His first order of business was to promptly fall to the ground, legs weak. He was up again. There were a pair of pants on the floor that he vaguely remembered shucking off. He grabbed them and clumsily stepped into the legs. They were still undone when he yanked his boots on next. Straightening, he did them up on the way, following as fast as he could, out of his room and through the stagnant, smoke-filled hall. His lungs protested the smell as did his stomach.
He disregarded both.
Catching up to Loke was difficult when it should have been easy. For every step he took, the lion spirit had two. The stairwell door slammed in his face. Growling, Gray ripped it back.
"Loke!" He couldn't even see him now, just hear the slap of his boots on the shitty plywood stairs. "Loke! Get back here!" His voice echoed in the stairway. The outer door closed. Gray moved faster than what he was comfortable with, taking the steps two at a time. Gathering motivation was easier when he imagined the look on Juvia's face when Loke knocked on her door. When he imagined trying to think of something to say.
He came out into the late morning. The sun blazed from an unforgiving blue sky. Squinting didn't help his head. Across the street, Loke disappeared into the Thorn and Thistle. How did he get across the road so goddamn fast?
"Loke!" Not that he heard. Gray barely checked for carts as he hobbled after and almost got squashed for his carelessness. A farmer leaned out of the front seat and swore fluently as he drove by. Gray flipped him off, not quite able to help himself. The cart kept going. So did Gray.
He'd never felt so damned slow.
On the opposite side now, Gray reached for the Thorn and Thistle's dingy door just as it was pushed out. Unable to stop, he slammed into Riley Ackles. Ackles grabbed his arm and steadied him.
"Easy."
Gray got his footing well enough to stand on his own. "Thanks." He meant to take in the guard in passing, however his eyes got stuck on Ackles' messy hair and his askew uniform, the top few buttons of his dark petticoat open. His pants were wrinkled and he looked... tired. Hungover. With the blink of an eye, Gray put Ackles in the Thorn and Thistle's bar last night, carrying a drink to Juvia. He felt a stone drop in his stomach.
You don't know anything happened. He could have been staying there with anyone.
Gray couldn't shake the feeling in his chest.
Ackles asked, "What's up with that black mark? Are you alright?"
Gray couldn't answer. Perhaps pushing past Riley Ackles without another word was rude. It was better than punching him, though.
"Have a good one," the guard muttered facetiously at Gray's back.
Walking into the bar's dank interior and the smell of old liquor stopped up any reply Gray was stewing on. He didn't bother asking a woman cleaning which room Juvia stayed in; the Thistle didn't have many anyway.
No one tried to stop him from climbing the stairs. The railing had been rubbed smooth by so many hands, winners and losers alike. Gray knew which he felt like as his feet took him closer to his answer.
He didn't need to look for her room at the top of the stairs; the door was open. Juvia was hanging out, wrapped in a short black robe, staring at a slice of air that had been glowing brightly seconds ago. Her hair was even messier than Ackles' had been. The weight in Gray's stomach got heavier. It had only been an evening, but it felt like he hadn't seen her in days, like she was someone completely new and totally untouchable now.
"Juvia." Even saying her name felt like… well, like he was stealing it. Like he was taking what he had no right to take.
She stiffened like she'd been electrocuted and slowly looked his way. He saw everything he thought he needed to in that shamefaced expression. He approached, trying to think of something awful to say. "You let that asshole stay here last night?" It wasn't the best he had, but it was a start. Juvia blinked, still startled by his arrival. Or maybe it was his appearance. She catalogued the spread of his devil slayer's mark rather efficiently; all she could see, anyway. Gray felt it all over his back, too. So cold.
Instead of addressing his outburst, Juvia said, "Loke said you were sick, Gray."
Gray didn't care about that. The migraine that had been hanging around for days was suffocated beneath a layer of what felt very much like betrayal. "Answer me."
She wrapped her arms around her middle, still trying to pretend that everything was alright. "If... if you want, I'll take you to see Porlyusica."
"I don't want to see Porlyusica," Gray said sharply. "I want you to fucking answer me. Did you let him stay here?"
She shook off her shock and drew herself up. "If you're sick, I'll help you, but who I did or didn't have here last night is none of your business."
He swiped a hand over his face, wiping away cold sweat. "Juvia—fuck, how could you do that to me?" He had no idea what the hell he was saying.
Juvia did, though. "I didn't do anything, Gray. Not to you."
His palms hurt, nails digging in hard enough that they scraped up bits of skin. "You fucked him—"
"Shut up. What right do you have to come up here slinging accusations and yelling at me for doing what I want after everything?"
Gray's ears roared. "What right? You told me you loved me, Juvia, but here you are—"
She wouldn't let him get a full sentence in. "I meant it at the time, unlike you, you liar and—and—" She was too upset to think of another insult. Her neck was flushed, and her chest. Gray had never seen her so furious. Her hands gripped the doorframe hard enough that her knuckles were white. Against the dingy, dark wood, he could see the green nail polish she wore was chipped now. Gray imagined all the ways it became so. And then he imagined not imagining that, because that just felt like torture, a hot poker in his guts.
"Juvia—" He tried for all the things he couldn't say last night, though a very vocal voice in his brain said not to bother, that it didn't matter, that she'd be both happier and better off with someone that didn't feel so conflicted about her. "That stuff with Lucy didn't matter. It meant nothing—"
"It meant something." Her voice had come down from its high-pitched screech and developed a dangerous note.
"Yeah. It meant that I was all fucked up, okay? That's all. That shit went down with my dad and—"
Nope, there was no full sentence to be had. Juvia burst into tears. "I couldn't help it, Gray! I had to kill him. There was no other choice."
He was momentarily quelled into silence by her outburst, the raw truth of it. He knew it, had even thought he'd come to terms with it, but fuck, in that moment, Silver's death felt raw all over again.
She sniffed, ready before he was to drive the nail home. "If you couldn't forgive me, you never should have asked me to leave that night. You should have just stayed in Lucy's bed instead of pretending you loved me." As if that were all of the things she could gather the courage to say, she pulled back from the doorway and slammed the door so hard that the dusty window at the end of the hall quivered in its pane.
Gray stared at the barrier for a few heartbeats, letting her words sink in, waiting for his heart to settle. It never did. Woodenly, he approached. He thought it was to knock and call her name and demand to see her again. In actuality, it was to just stare at the door and wonder vaguely if she was right, if he did lie through his teeth because he felt guilty for the way he felt toward her after Silver died. If he'd been fooling her and himself.
It felt like a lie, but who the hell was he to say? Clear thinking was a million miles away.
Juvia leaned against the door for a long time, listening to Gray on the other side of the barrier, wondering if he'd gather the courage and the words to bug her again. She wished he would, she wished he wouldn't. Eventually, she heard his aggravated sigh, and then his boots scuffing down the hallway. He sounded well enough to her, not as sick as Loke said. Then why was his mark like that? His chest mostly black, his arm and neck, the space beneath his chin and reaching up his cheek toward his eye, too. She almost tore open the door and called him back. The urge passed. Fortified again, Juvia went back to what she was doing: packing her bags properly and getting the hell out of town.
Another knock on the door caused her to physically jump. It's Gray. It's Riley. It's Loke again. Or even worse. She imagined it was Lucy, come to pass around her apologies and tears in that way she had. Well, Juvia didn't want to forgive Lucy, though she knew the blonde wasn't really the object of her ire. What she did was wrong, sure, they were supposed to be friends, but ultimately the biggest betrayal lay in Gray's hands, not hers.
Impatient and confused, Juvia stared at the door until it was knocked upon once more. Coming unstuck, she crossed the room but hesitated again, hand outstretched for the doorknob. She didn't feel brave enough to see who waited on the other side. Her heart was going a million miles a minute. Just do it.
It wasn't Loke or Gray or Riley that waited behind the barrier, but the woman that visited with Eileen, the one with long coral hair. Akio. She wore a smile that was both sharper than blades and beautiful.
"Juvia, you weren't thinking on leaving, were you?"
