Ruination had never looked so complete. Grass charred so deep the soil beneath had turned solid, its moisture stolen away. Debris from the destroyed guild hall burned to particles less than ash. A wide radius of black, black, black burned white. And in amongst all of the destruction was a limp body, his splash of pink hair the only colour in a dichromatic world.

Natsu was paler than talc and limper than a ragdoll, staring up at the sky with eyes of onyx. First, Lucy thought he was dead. Her mind rejected the very notion, of course, Natsu was infallible and untouchable. Then why is he so…

Lifeless?

Loke was talking at her back, chanting words that went unheard. Something like, 'Don't go onto the rubble. You'll fall through.' Or, 'I'll get him, Lucy, stay where you are.' Or maybe a combination of the two. He was always trying to keep her safe. From physical dangers and emotional. He'd always been protective, but it had gotten worse in the last year. Lucy wasn't thinking as she approached Natsu, so she couldn't appreciate Loke's efforts.

The first step onto the debris was so stable, she was inflated with a sense of fearlessness, a singular thought that started and ended with get to Natsu. Her earlier fear and shock (I killed someone) took a giant step aside to make way for this new stress. What if he's dead? She didn't think about what could have done this to him. She didn't think about the dangers still potentially in the area. She let her feet lead her recklessly over the detritus, much to Loke's chagrin, she was sure.

Bowing and quivering with every step toward the center, like a shattered piece of glass just barely strung together by pressure alone, the ground, already tenuous to begin with, groaned in protest with Lucy's added weight. She tiptoed, using grace and a fluidity she didn't think she possessed to keep her weight well-distributed until she got to Natsu. And then it was like all of the ability fled her system and she collapsed to his side, legs like wet noodles. The debris protested again. Lucy didn't hear it.

This close, she could see that he wasn't actually trapped in a static state, his chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths so small, they'd been invisible from a distance, his dark eyes shifted back and forth like he was studying something very closely. Relief made her voice small. "Natsu?" She touched his face. Please, please, please, she prayed to anyone willing to listen. As if in response, as soon as she made contact, his eyes refocused, so he was not just staring up at the sky, seeing things that only he could see, but around at his surroundings, taking things in.

He blinked. Once, twice, and took in a huge breath. It sounded painful. With its release, he gasped out her name. It was the greatest thing Lucy had ever heard. It was also the harshest, like he'd been parched for days. Her stomach twisted with fear. Don't. Don't panic. He's talking. He's breathing. He's alright. She touched his face again, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He grabbed her wrist and held it tight, fingers biting in to her bones to prevent her from continuing. Lucy winced, but she was too happy to see him moving to complain. He let her go shortly after, anyway, face slacking with pain. Glancing down revealed why: his palm had turned black. Not just stained, but… Lucy grabbed his hand and turned it skywards so she could examine it. The center was rough, not at all like human skin. The only thing she could liken it to was a snake's, abrasive one way, smooth the other when she ran her fingers over it.

Natsu pulled from her grasp, the look on his face afraid. The next breath he took in was less hindered. The one after that, too. "Lucy." Her name cracked coming out of his paper-dry lips.

"What happened to you, Natsu?" She shifted her weight at the same time Natsu gathered the energy to lift himself up on his elbow. The rubble beneath them whined.

"I…" The dragon slayer blinked again and again. The setting sun was bright. "Zeref."

"Zeref?" Lucy repeated.

"He was here," Natsu affirmed, more sure with every passing second, the cobwebs leaving his mind.

"I just checked the perimeter. I didn't see anything."

Lucy forgot about Happy until his voice punctuated her single-mindedness. Lifting her gaze, she found him keeping himself levitated just feet away. His face was pinched with worry. He too had noticed Natsu's blackened skin and hadn't been able to look away from it.

"He's gone," Natsu said after a moment's thought.

"How do you know?" Lucy asked.

Because I can feel him. "I just do," Natsu said sharply, rattled by the revelation. Lucy looked like she'd been slapped, suddenly on the brink of tears. Natsu took in a deep, steadying breath. "Sorry, Lucy."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and rolled over the emotion, "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

Lucy looked at him from beneath her lashes and Natsu knew for a fact she didn't believe a word he said. She didn't know how to ask him, though, not with this great divide still stretching between them.

Happy asked, "What did he want?"

His brother back. His demon. "I don't know." Natsu imagined keeping his secret all to himself. There is no secret. It was a lie. Except… he was starting to doubt that, the memories too real, the pain in his chest where Zeref had stabbed through his book too real. He checked. The wound was gone, now only a scar to add to the many others. Doubt was like a cavity. As soon as it started to rot the tooth, there wasn't much help for it. He ran his fingers over the center of his palm, feeling where the thorn went in all those days ago. There was no longer a marble-sized node, but the skin had changed, become sharp in its own way, rough and cold. He barely dared to look at it. His stomach only turned itself inside out when he saw how his skin had blackened. He cleared his throat and got back on topic. "The same thing he always wants, I guess. To fuck things up for us. I gave him everything I had." And it wasn't enough.

Lucy didn't need for him to say the last, she knew him well enough to recognize his tortured expression. "Next time, Natsu."

Natsu saw through her ploy. Normally he'd appreciate the effort, but he was too messed up to do much more than say, "He said Wendy was attacked on her way back to Fairy Tail."

"Wendy was with Erza," Lucy said as soon as the shock faded. "If I know Erza, they're probably alright."

Natsu wasn't so sure. He dropped Lucy's gaze to look out over Magnolia. Fairy Tail was at a higher elevation than most of the town. He could see the parts built anew, and those still suffering.

Happy said, "We should find Gray. Let him know what's happening."

Natsu didn't agree nor disagree, not so eager to think about Gray when his head was full of his own shit. One problem at a time.

Lucy stood, the rubble sighing discontentedly under her feet. "Alright."

Natsu finally saw her wet clothes and the blood dotting her front. His heart skipped several beats. "What's that?"

Lucy touched the splatter and became suddenly disassociated.

Happy filled the silence for her. "We were attacked."

Natsu met his best friend's eyes. "Attacked? By what?" Cut the thread of dreaming.

"A demon," Happy replied when Lucy still just stared at her feet, reliving the moment her spell hit.

"A demon?" One of Zeref's. Come to cut the thread. The pieces lined up for him. Remember who you are. What you are. Zeref's brother. Zeref's demon. If you won't do it on your own... Zeref was going to take everything that mattered until he did.

"It's dead now," Happy said. "Lucy… took care of it."

Lucy? Natsu couldn't help but stare. No one seemed to want to elaborate, though, and he was really too exhausted to pursue the avenue just then.

"Come on, Lucy." Loke's voice seemed to jar her out of her reverie. "Let's head back so you can get cleaned up and changed, alright?"

Lucy straightened. The fading sunlight clung to her tangled wet hair. Determined to act like everything was fine, she asked Natsu, "Are you okay to stand?"

Am I? He felt totally wrung out.

"I can carry you back," Happy offered.

Natsu was so tired, he didn't even fight.


Gray was lying on his mussed-up bed and staring up at his ceiling when a knock came on his door. He deliberated, and then decided that avoiding everyone was just going to raise more questions. You could leave. Yeah, he could. He didn't want to come back to Magnolia anyway, it was Juvia. He tucked that away for further thought. In the meantime, "Yeah."

When the door came open, the object of his ire walked through.

Juvia hesitated there, just barely in the doorway. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Hi, Gray."

Aside from the difficulty she had in meeting his eye, her only show of discomfort was her permanently clenched fist, fingers tangled through the skirt of the small dress she wore, whiter than spring's first water-lily. The lack of colour was punctuated by a pair of black as night knee-high boots with buckles all the way up the sides. Neither garment he recognized. It only made her feel further away.

He tried to wear his anger like a shroud, depending upon it to keep the hurt at bay. That way, he wouldn't think about how good she looked. How he wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear for her. How he wanted to pull her in closer. How he never wanted her more than when he couldn't have her.

Stop it.

"What are you doing here?" He didn't bother sitting up, looking at Juvia with his head tilted back, just barely on the bed, so she was upside down.

Juvia stepped in and closed the door, then loosened her clutch on her skirt to wring her hands together nervously. "Um..." What are you doing here? Right. The stone in her pocket. She examined Gray's stained skin. He looked just as afflicted as he did earlier. Maybe it was worse. "I wanted to see how you were. Your mark."

He knitted his brows together. "I'm fine."

"You're not. You don't have to pretend, Gray-sama." The last slipped out and hung between them, a vestige of what they were to each other. Juvia looked torn as soon as she realized what she'd done, but there was no taking it back. Gray held onto sama like a leech, happy (and guilty for it) to know that she still loved him. Or, on the other hand, maybe it was only habit. Juvia composed herself and came close enough that all he had to do was stretch out his arm and he'd be touching her. He imagined that he could feel the heat off her skin. Maybe he could; his own was so damned cold.

Juvia cleared her throat. "I spoke to one of my... friends about your mark, Gray. They think they can help. Kind of like Porlyusica did."

Gray did his best not to notice the way the sun came through the dingy window and made her hair as sapphires, the way her red as apples lips formed her words. Especially his name. It was easier when he thought of how she shared his personal business with some nobody. "Get out."

She was so surprised she almost obeyed, had one foot lifted off the ground. A force rooted her in place. "Please, Gray. You're a mess. That mark is all over your body. The last time this happened, you couldn't sleep for days, you stopped eating—"

"The mark was brand new then," Gray snapped.

"I know that, but it's happening again. Just let my friend—"

"What friend, huh? That stupid guard? I don't need anything from him." He thought of a hundred awful ways to finish his sentence but couldn't force any of them out, hurt but not so bad that he couldn't think about what it would be like after he dragged Juvia down with him.

Juvia's cheeks were undeniably pink. "It wasn't Riley—"

Riley. He hated that name. "Don't even talk to me about him."

Juvia's throat turned red, too. "I'm not. You're the one that brought him up. My other friend that I met at the Thistle—"

"Suddenly there's more," Gray said venomously. "You've been staying in that place for a day, Juvia. Barely even."

Juvia primed a variety of hurtful things to say, most of them revolving around Lucy. They all got stuck in her throat. "Look," she said as soon as she was able. "None of that matters. I—I want you to be safe, and I think this magic is dangerous. Please just let me help you." She extended her hand, showing the ruby-red stone resting in her palm. It looked benign, but Gray could feel the power seeping out of it. Juvia said, "Keep it on you and it should stop your devil slayer's magic."

Gray let that sink in for a beat. What would it be like, not always itching to find a demon and destroy it? What would it be like to think again, without this horrible pain in his skull? What would it be like not to be on the verge of snapping every second? It had only been bad since arriving in Magnolia, but it felt like he'd been stuck this way forever. Misery left an impression.

Suffocating the power he never asked for... And you'd never kill END. "I can't get rid of this power, Juvia. I need it."

Fluidly, she said, "It'll only work for as long as you have it." She had no idea if it were true or not. "If you need the magic again... just let go of the stone."

As good as it sounded, Gray didn't take it, still wary. "Why would some stranger give you a stone to stop my magic?" It didn't sit well with him.

"I told you, she's a friend, not a stranger," Juvia maintained. Eileen chirped in her mind. 'Make sure he keeps it on him.' She came closer still, thinking of all the ways to make him do just that. None of those thoughts felt original, as though they belonged to someone else. Her knees folded, dropping her to the questionably clean carpet just inches from Gray. His eyes tracked her movements, lingering on her body, her mouth, searching her eyes. She had his attention. Juvia said, "I was really worried about you after you came by this afternoon, so she said this could help."

They were so close, Gray could see her freckles and the flecks of silver in her deep-blue orbs. He stayed perfectly still as Juvia reached out and traced the black edge of his devil slayer's mark, tracking down his cheek and his neck. Her skin was so warm compared to his. "Just try it, Gray-sama. Please."

Gray closed his eyes, memorizing the sensation of her hands on his face, her voice. Gray-sama. He shouldn't like the sound of that so much. He'd spent years telling her not to bother calling him that, but suddenly now it was all he could think about. He reached over his head and found her hand before he knew what he was doing. Juvia relinquished the stone. As soon as he touched it, he felt his devil slayer's mark retreat, sucked down into his palm and thusly into the stone. It hurt. And then it felt good. The migraine faded, and the nausea he'd been carrying around for days. He breathed and it felt unburdened. The encroaching rage he'd been poorly staving off totally evaporated.

Juvia beamed. "It worked, see?"

And that scared him. He dropped the stone. The black snapped back into place so fast it left him dizzy. Gray turned on his side and looked down at the glowing stone lying inches from Juvia's knee. It pulsed with a weird red light. "It doesn't feel right."

"I'm sure it's strange. But you can let it go at any time." Juvia took his hand and turned it over so she could see the source of the mark. "Please keep it. Let it help you."

Let go any time. Gray found himself saying, "Alright." Just because she asked. Just as a way of an apology. She attempted to let him go; Gray tightened his hold on her wrist, keeping her there for as long as he possibly could. It wasn't very long; it was as if the last few minutes hadn't happened, she was back to being guarded and wary and hurt all over again, pulling away from him and standing.

Yet, Gray wasn't ready to let her slip away, not now that she was here. "Stay for a bit, Juvia."

She shook her head. "I have to go." Had to. She felt the need way down into her toes.

"Wait. I want to talk." Not really, he didn't know where to start or what to say. But he knew he didn't want her to go. Even if she was with someone else last night? Even if.

"No."

He kept talking anyway. "Listen. I didn't ask Lucy to come with me because I didn't want her to." With Juvia's touch lingering on his skin, he was sure of that. "I was really messed up, but I knew I wanted to go with you, Juvia—"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Gray. Not right now." Not when she had to get back to Akio.

Gray actually shoved his fingers through his hair and pulled it, feeling like he was going mad. "Where are you going?" What was more important than this?

Juvia was already turning away. "I hope that stone really does help you."

"Juvia, wait." He sat up more fully. "Please. I don't just want to talk about Lucy. I want to talk about what happened last night—"

Her shoulders were stiff, her eyes far away, perhaps remembering someone else's mouth. It burned Gray right to the core when she said so flippantly. "There isn't much to say:"

"Really? You take off with some guy you don't even know and there isn't much to say?"

Juvia's eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment. "We're not in love, so that's not really your business anymore."

"You know that's a lie, Juvia. You know I—" She put the door between them before Gray could finish. It didn't stop him from getting up and following her out into the hallway.

Juvia had only gotten a few steps in before she'd ploughed into an irritated redhead. It took Gray several seconds to fully recognize Erza, he was so absorbed in his own shit pile. It was her voice, really, that drilled through him with that sharp, no-nonsense tenor.

"Watch where you're going." Annoyance gave way to shock. "—Juvia."

Without a word, Juvia wriggled out of her grasp, slipperier than a snake, and hurried away.

Erza looked after her until she rounded the corner, then found Gray. "What was that about? And what's wrong with your skin?"

Gray scrubbed his face hard enough it hurt.

"Gray?"

He took his hands away and motioned for her to come into his room.


Every step that brought them closer to Gray's room made Natsu a little more squirrelly. He didn't know how to treat the ice mage. Were they still friends? More importantly, were they ever? They'd had differences, but this... His hands were getting hot with unwelcomed flames. Natsu couldn't stop his mind from whirling. He tried to think of something to say when that door opened. Broach the subject? 'Hey, I heard you fucked Lucy the first chance you got.' That'd go over well, he was sure. Ignore it? Say nothing at all because there was other, more important things he wanted to think about?

Gray's door opened before he had an answer and an unexpected figure stepped out.

Natsu was the first to grasp the situation. "Erza." She was dressed in a plain blue dress, and her finger was wrapped in some shitty—and filthy—splint, held together by sticks. Despite her unusual attire and injuries, she hadn't changed much at all, still at home in her scowl that was quick to give way to a smile.

"It took you long enough." She closed the distance and gathered him into a bone-crushing hug. She smelled like rain and blood and oil. Like Erza.

"I should be saying the same thing to you," Natsu said, words muffled against her shoulder. Even with the fabric bunging him up, it came out far more choked than he'd planned. Fairy Tail. It wasn't dead. Just limping along.

Erza leaned back so he could see her smile fall away. "We would have been here days ago, but we ran into some trouble."

Trouble jarred Natsu's memory, and deposited a stone firmly in his guts. He looked around Erza's shoulder, looking for Wendy but only seeing Gray. He was still mostly in his room, arms crossed over his chest, a pained expression on his sweaty face. His slayer's mark was doing weird things, shifting like it was alive, taking up more than half of his body, then easing back down, never stationary. Curious, but Natsu didn't bother to ask. He looked away from him before Gray realized he was being watched. "We ran into Zeref and he said you guys were attacked. Where's Wendy?"

"And Carla," Happy added, practically bouncing out of his skin.

Erza explained, "Wendy was thrown from a cliff."

"What?" Lucy cut in.

"Carla is with her right now in our room."

Before she finished, Natsu said, "But she's going to be okay, right?"

Erza took her arms from around Natsu's shoulders and went to Happy, then Loke, giving them the same treatment. "She hasn't woken. Gajeel and Levy went to find Porlyusica. I'm hoping she might be able to help."

"Levy's here, too?" Lucy asked.

Erza gathered her in for a hug last. "Yes. Why are you soaked, Lucy?"

"We ran into some trouble of our own," Loke said. "Lucy took a dive into the canal."

Erza leaned back and searched the blonde's eyes, then dropped lower, to take in the blood on her shirt. She missed nothing, as ever. "I have to take care of Wendy now, until Gajeel and Levy come back at least, but after you're cleaned up… we should talk, Lucy."

Lucy cleared her throat. "I'd like that."

"We're staying in thirty-three."

"Can I come with you?" Happy asked.

Erza wavered for a millisecond. "Alright. But you have to promise to be quiet. Don't disturb Wendy. And don't annoy Carla, either. She's been through a lot."

"Aye," Happy agreed.

Gray stepped out of the room and tried to move past the group. Loke grabbed his arm, pulling him up short. "There're demons hanging around, eh?"

"Yeah, I got the message," Gray replied. "I want to tell Juvia."

Loke released him. "You want some company?"

Gray shook his head. Avoiding Natsu's scowl was difficult. There was no doubt in the ice mage's mind that the truth had come out. He couldn't think about that, though, not when he felt so dizzy he could fall over. Moving helped. So did deep breaths. The further away from the group he got, the better he felt. He walked faster.


While Lucy showered, Natsu looked at the bed they'd shared for the last few days, wondering what it meant. Across the room, Loke watched. "You heard what Happy said, eh? Lucy killed that demon."

The dragon slayer dragged himself out of his self-depreciation. "What's that?"

"The demon that attacked us. She killed it," Loke repeated. "It really rattled her. The spell wasn't supposed to happen like that."

"That's shitty," Natsu said finally, not having too much else.

The look Loke gave him was brimming with discontent. "What I mean is, she's going to need someone to talk to, Natsu. Erza means well, and she'll be a good ear, but I know Lucy would appreciate it if it were you," Loke said. "The person that knows her best."

Natsu looked at him sideways, considering.

In the silence, Loke continued. "You two have been friends for a long time. If this thing that happened with Gray means that you can't be anything more, well… then so be it. But I know she means more to you than just that. Be her friend. She needs it." With that he faded back into the celestial realm.

Natsu stared at where Loke had been for a long time, thinking about the spirit's words. He stared until the bathroom door opened and Lucy came out, smelling like strawberry shampoo. He stared until she slipped on a pair of flats and ducked out of the door into the hallway. Long minutes of inaction passed.

'She's going to need someone.'

'To cut the thread of dreaming.'

'END.'

Chilled to the bone and already tired of being on his own, he stood and followed Lucy. Her trail was easy to find, straight and true through the motel to the balcony doors. Back to where he'd found her and Gray a couple of nights before. He faltered, hand resting on the doorknob. He wondered what he'd do if he opened the door and saw them together again. Who knew?

Stop procrastinating and just do it. The hinges were more silent than Natsu anticipated. Or maybe he was just trying to be quiet.

Back to him, Lucy leaned over the balcony, hair getting grabbed by the wind, skin kissed in pale moonlight. He realized what he hadn't earlier: she'd changed, now in a pair of tights and an oversized grey sweater. Morosely, she looked out at the skeleton that was Magnolia and plucked at her fingernails, scraping off the orange nail polish that had been chipping for days.

"Are you waiting for Gray?" He didn't mean for those to be his first words. Honest. They just slipped out.

Lucy jumped and whirled. "Natsu. You scared me."

He looked at her expectantly, holding his breath for her answer.

Lucy regrouped. "I wasn't waiting for anyone. I was trying to clear my head."

Natsu let the door close the rest of the way and stepped up to her side. He'd never felt more awkward around Lucy. He tugged at the end of his scarf just for something to do. It didn't help alleviate his stress. He decided to talk instead. "What happened today?"

Lucy pushed her hair away from her mouth. "I don't know."

"Happy said there was a demon," Natsu prodded.

"Yes." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"And…" He tried to pull up some of his old cheer. "He said you kicked some ass."

Lucy's chin warbled. "I don't know."

Natsu dug his nails into his palm to feel the hard skin. "What do you mean you don't know?"

The first tear signified a break in the dam. Seconds later, her cheeks were soaked and her breath was hiccupping right along. "I killed it."

"Yeah," Natsu agreed. "Happy said—"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that, Natsu," Lucy said in a rush, trying to make him understand. "It was just… I panicked, and the spell went wrong… and then she was shot—and it was horrible. I can still hear it. She just kind of… popped. Ugh." Her body moved, trapped between a shiver and a gag.

She looked so frail with her wet cheeks and bruised neck and wracking shoulders. Breaking. Or broken. Natsu did the only thing he could think of and gathered her in for a hug, squeezing tight, imagining he could could put all of the pieces back together again. He held her until she stopped shuddering and came away from the edge of a panic attack. When he felt it was safe, he said, "If you didn't do what you did, you could be dead." It was too easy, especially now with Lucy leaning against him much as Valentina had leaned against Zeref, to imagine her as Valentina had been. This breath here would be the last. Her fingers fisting in his sweater would loosen. Her mouth would go slack and she'd slump, limper than a wilted flower cut free of its stem and left to rot in the humidity. A thought hit him hard and fast. I don't want that. I don't want to lose her. Not for anything. Not because of a story Zeref told him that may or may not be true, and not because of some stupid night a long time ago.

Lucy gathered breath and said, "I know she was attacking us. I just keep asking myself, what if this means that I shouldn't be using those spells, Natsu, if I can't control them?"

The violent upheaval of magic Natsu had experienced earlier vied with Valentina for his attention. "I know what it's like to feel like you have no control."

Lucy leaned back to look at him. She was pretty when she cried, cheeks rosy even by the light of the moon. "You're always in control."

He didn't bother correcting her, thinking maybe if she thought it was true, perhaps it could be. "It's too late to turn around and change things, Lucy. You just gotta go with it. Yeah, you killed a demon, yeah, you hadn't planned on it. But it was a demon." From the Book of Zeref. Just like you, brother. Natsu pushed the unwelcomed thought delivered by Zeref's voice well aside. "More importantly, it was trying to kill you."

Her chin warbled again. "I know. But I keep remembering the way it fell. I can't stop thinking about it. I had to throw out my clothes, even though Virgo said the blood would come out. And I keep wondering about using my magic again, you know? Like, can I? Or am I just going to mess it up again next time?"

Natsu squeezed the fabric of Lucy's sweater, glad to be able to submerse himself in her problems. He knew how to handle them better than his own. "You love being a mage. You love your spirits. You won't give that up."

Lucy couldn't help but get stuck on the details. Won't, not can't. As if he knew her heart better than she did. Maybe it was true.

"You're strong, Lucy," Natsu finished. "This isn't going to stop you."

She didn't want to let him go to swipe away her tears. That was alright, Natsu did it for her, rubbing his thumb across her face in a way that was far gentler than he'd ever been before. Then he tilted her chin up so he was looking into her eyes. "Right?"

"I don't—"

He didn't want any other answer. "Right?"

Lucy's eyes got even waterier. She blinked them clear, shucking off the tears. "Yeah."

Her affirmation was delivered in a weak voice, but it was better than nothing. He rubbed her cheeks again. This time they stayed mostly dry. He didn't want to let her go, though. 'If we're going to do this…' He pushed the thought away. "Do you think about him?"

"Him?" Lucy asked.

"Gray," he clarified. His heart was doing strange things. You're scared of her answer, he realized.

"I—no."

"Not ever?"

"Not like that," Lucy said.

He kissed her before he lost his nerve. Lucy's mouth was unresponsive for two heartbeats, then she moved her lips just enough that Natsu knew she wanted to be kissed. Cut the thread of dreaming. He tightened his fingers and realized that he'd grabbed her at the waist, now clutching the fabric of her shirt. He could hold her like this forever, relishing in the feeling of this thing he could have that Zeref was denied. Something so seemingly frivolous but undeniably important. He didn't want to give it up, yet he eased back before he could forget to and breathed her in. She was alive. She was a girl, not a piece of string, and no one was cutting her loose.

Lucy kept her eyes closed to ask, "What does that mean?"

Natsu licked his lips, tasting her there. "What do you mean, what does that mean?"

Lucy sniffed, still stuffy, and opened her eyes. "I don't know. You walked out, Natsu, after I told you about that stuff—"

Natsu tightened his hold on her sweater so much so he thought it would tear. "If you're not out here thinking about him, then I don't care." It was even mostly true. He congratulated himself. There was nothing quite like living through watching the woman you love die, though, even if it wasn't him exactly. It had happened to Zeref so long ago, but in those memories... Natsu knew the dark mage lived through it again and again every night, torturing himself. And now you can, too. There was no help for the wave of sympathy he felt. He clutched Lucy harder, helplessly imagining the same thing happening to her. Stop thinking about it.

Lucy stood on tiptoe, finding his mouth. It made distancing himself from his thoughts both more difficult and infinitely easier. He pressed against her, so the balcony dug into her back, and kissed her more firmly.


The Thorn and Thistle had never been fuller, yet finding Juvia was easy, like he was homing in on her or something. She was sitting at the guard's table again, trapped not only in Riley Ackles' arm, but in a woman's as well, one with hair of a rich pink. Gray leaned back against the bar and watched them, imagining himself going over there to warn her about those demons. No matter how he twisted it, it felt like just an excuse to talk to her. To interrupt and ruin her night. Then wait. She couldn't stay there all night, right? He ordered a shot of whisky and watched, sickly fascinated.

Beside Juvia, Ackles looked like a pig happy in a bed of shit, a giant grin on his face as he leaned into her ear and whispered something that made her go several shades brighter. The woman leaned in next, treating Juvia with some other perverse secret that made the water mage flush and squirm. Juvia said something that Gray wished he could hear. The woman laughed, kissed Juvia's cheek sloppily, then rose and flounced to the bar.

Halfway across the floor, her eyes met Gray's. She wouldn't let him go, staring him down until she was nestled between him and another patron at her back. "Hi."

Gray smiled dismissively and went back to looking at Juvia. She wasn't laughing, but there was a quirk to her lips that could be enjoyment. It was only for a moment, but in that time, Gray hated her for having a good time while he suffered through several types of hell. It's your own doing. He could have told her sooner and all of this would have been avoided. Juvia was understanding and loved him more than she loved herself. At least she used to. But no. He could have grabbed the stone and dampened the sick feeling in his stomach instead of leaving it in his room. But no. Apparently he liked the torture.

The woman brought him back to the bar by touching his arm. "Are you here on your own?"

Gray refocused. "Yeah."

She looked him over with dark eyes. "Did you want to come have a few drinks with us?"

Sit at the same table as Juvia and watched her get pawed at. He looked over in time to see Ackles trace his fingers up Juvia's arm. "No."

"Oh." The woman wasn't deterred. "Can I buy you a few drinks then?"

Gray considered her. The aching pain in his arm really solidified his decision. "Yeah."


Though it has been blisteringly hot during the day, the night had cast its chill. Propane exhaust rose from the back of the Thorn and Thistle and condensed, giving the world a frosted quality. Stepping into that opaque smoke, Gray was keenly aware of how his head spun and ached; his skin was crawling. It had gotten better when he left Briar's Lock, but now as the night went on he was feeling like shit again. It probably didn't help that he was mostly drunk.

The woman before him tromped through the broken glass and other detritus, needles, cigarette butts, cups, looking otherworldly. Her fingernails dug into his skin, feeling more like blades.

Gray turned his senses outward. The night was quiet save for disconnected laughter trilling and bouncing off the building. He tripped on a soggy piece of cardboard. The Thorn and Thistle was a dump, as trashy as it had been when he got hammered that night with Lucy. Maybe it was worse, deprived of its usual monies because Magnolia was struggling so.

"This way." The woman tugged him up and led on when he lagged behind. Her coral coloured hair gleamed in the moonlight. She looked over her shoulder, black-lined eyes flashing.

Gray corrected his steps, letting her pull him into the crux of the alley, a small nook where barely any of the street light reached. She twisted so Gray's back was against the wall, then pressed her body firmly against his. There was no space between them, except enough to allow her hand to side against his chest. His shirt was open; he didn't remember undoing it, but he must have. Her lips landed on his neck. Then her tongue. She licked, moaning hotly. The sound vibrated his skin.

She abandoned his chest so she could tear open the front of her dress. She wasn't wearing anything beneath. Her breasts against his skin were hot. Between his legs swelled, an automatic reaction. Gray tipped his head to the sky and watched the moon slide behind a group of clouds. Then he closed his eyes and took in a stabilizing breath, searching for answers.

"Touch me," she said.

He opened his eyes and peered at her through the fan of his lashes. She was trying to catch him with her gaze. Gray obeyed, sliding his hand up her body, between her breasts to the center part of her sternum. "Like this?"

"Almost." She made him grope her. Gray went along for a moment, deciding his next move carefully. The woman tugged her dress lower. Her skin was iridescent. Her hair skimmed over his hand. She moaned in such a way that was difficult to keep separate from. He wished this was something he could enjoy while Juvia was out with someone else.

But...

His skin got cold, his arm ached. The cold expanded into the woman's body.

Her eyes widened with genuine surprise. "What are you doing?"

"I wasn't sure in there," Gray said, "but now I know." He forced the magic through his body; he didn't have to try all that hard, it was hungry. Always. Her skin started to rapidly freeze. She yelled and attempted to stumble away. Gray grabbed her tight around the waist and held her determinedly so there was nowhere to go.

She wailed and scratched at him, human skin falling away. Now she was luminous scales and sharp claws, beautiful in the same way a deadly snake was. Gray held tighter, refusing to let her get an inch between them, knowing that if he did, he ran the risk of dying. Giving a demon the upper hand was inviting disaster.

"It was you, wasn't it? Killing all those girls?"

She started to gather power. Gray forced more magic into her, freezing her nearly solid. She gasped for air, in pain and paralyzed.

"Answer me!"

She had looked panicked, but coming to quick terms with her situation, she started to laugh. "No. No, stupid devil slayer. It wasn't me."

"Lying won't save your life."

"Oh," she agreed, "I know. She warned me you liked to hunt demons. It doesn't matter if I live or die, though. Lady Akio will live on without me and kill you and no one will be sad." She snorted. "She didn't even have to take everything from you, you threw it all away yourself. Your guild, your friends, your lover."

Gray gritted his teeth together and let his father's magic come pouring out of his body. It was like bloodletting, it was like orgasming, it was like throwing himself off the steepest ledge he could find and finding the bottom was spread with sharp glass. The pain and pleasure intermixed until it was all he could think about. His devil slayer's magic was made for killing demons, and thusly so was he. Only distantly did he think of Juvia and her candy-red lips, her soulful blue eyes boring into him as she held out that peculiar red crystal, begging him to do what he didn't think he could. The want for demon blood was too strong. The need even more so.

'Please, Gray-sama.' Sama. He wondered if she knew she was Persephone all over again, though she swore she didn't love him.

He left the demon, only dust and ice crystals now, in favour of a stool at the Thorn and Thistle and a bottle of whisky he knew he could have if he asked real sweet, that way he could have a front-row seat to the way both he and Juvia seemed to sabotage everything they touched.


Bits of crumbled brick stuck to Makarov Dreyar's hands, left behind by the window ledge he perched upon inside the ancient structure that acted as a castle or sorts. Normally, he'd be too short to see beyond, but he'd made himself just tall enough to peak over the ledge. The smell of rock and dust and mud was thick in the air. And the smell of leather and metal and, faintly, blood. Outside, the din was deafening. No birds could be heard over the shouts of men and women, talking, joking, clanking in their armour, lined up in neat rows for inspection.

As soon as he saw the battle-ready unit, his heart sank. There was only one place they'd be marching on.

A boot scuffed over the ground, close to left. Makarov caught his breath and turned, facing a young woman.

"Master Makarov." Her thick western accent made it difficult to understand her. "I do believe you're not supposed to be in this part of the castle."

"Forgive me, Dimaria," Makarov said with a false smile. "I got lost on my way to the bathroom."

She returned his smile. "Then you are very, very lost. This way."

"I thought Emperor Spriggan would have returned by now." Makarov doddled, trying to think of a way to hinder their preparations.

"His Majesty is very busy," she replied.

"Arming forces to march on Fiore?" Makarov said casually.

Dimaria came to a stop and faced him. There was no hesitation as she said, "On Fiore? Is that what you think?"

"All of the reports have said so. Why do you think I'm here? For the scenery?" Makarov asked. "I was hoping your emperor would be a man of reason."

"Well." She started walking again. "You're wrong. On both accounts, especially when he wants something."

"What do you mean?" Makarov asked.

She looked down at him, eyes flashing. "That unit out there? They have a much smaller target. One near and dear to you, I believe."

Makarov's chest got tight. He lengthened his steps to catch up. "And what's that?"

Dimaria's grin was bright. "Fairy Tail, of course. Your guild is gathering again, Makarov, and his Majesty wants it gone."

Fairy Tail... "What does he want with Fairy Tail?"

"Oh..." she looked thoughtful. "If I knew... I still wouldn't tell you."

Makarov stopped. "I think our time together has come to an end, Dimaria. You've been very hospitable. Excuse me."

She stopped too. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay here, whether you like it or not. His majesty wants our visit to be a surprise."

"I think not. You'll meet resistance if you try to hold me here."

"That's a shame, Master Makarov."

Makarov blinked. When his eyes came open again, Diamaria wasn't where he'd left her. She was at his side, and there was a terrible pain just beneath his ribs. Groaning, he clutched the area, confused when his fingers met something wet and warm. Confusion only grew when he lifted his fingers and saw that it was blood. It dropped from his side and patterned against the floor. The wound was a bad one. Lethal, if he was any judge. Never one to go down without a fight, he gathered his magic and forced his body to change, becoming larger, stronger. The roof over his head cracked and broke apart, bits of stone raining down on Dimaria. Distantly, Makarov was aware of the men and women screaming. He said a silent prayer for all that would lose their lives today because of the selfish actions of both he and their emperor. Before he was through, he was smashing through their ranks with his fists, stealing the lives of people whose names he didn't know. He didn't get as far as he would have liked.

Without knowing what was happening, he blinked at Dimaria was there again, brandishing her sword. The next cut she gifted him bled far more generously than the one before, his heart punctured.

In death, he shrank back to his true size.

Dimaria's western inflection was the last thing he heard. "I'll be sure you're buried in your own soil by your own people."