The Last of Us
Chapter 4
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When daybreak sent its first glows across Magnolia two days after the battle, Lucy could barely move without aches or pains blooming to life. Her entire body still throbbed from her injuries - bruises and broken bones barely beginning to heal - making her movements jerky. According to Wendy, Lucy had broken several ribs, dislocated one of her shoulders, and had a bad concussion.
She had barely slept a wink since waking up in the guildhall's infirmary. In part, this was due to Wendy and Porlyusica keeping vigil over her to monitor her concussion. Although their medicinal advisor had stated Lucy would recover soon enough, that didn't mean the old woman would leave her without supervision. The other part of Lucy's insomnia came from her fear of dreaming. Being awake, she could keep her thoughts busy, her hands fiddling, her consciousness away from the truth she still had a hard time believing. But while she slept, her repressed thoughts and emotions could come out to play without warning. The idea itself made her inadvertently recoil. Her heart pounded faster, her breath quickened, and she could feel panic begin to shake her fragile composure. She could barely hold everything together as it was.
Lucy clenched her jaw through her pain, struggling in vain to pull on the black dress Levy had brought from her apartment. "Come on," she murmured, attempting to pull the dress over her bandages.
A knock on the infirmary door caused her to pause and glance over her shoulder to see Cana peeking her head in. "Hey, Lucy, you almost ready?"
"Yeah." The blonde sighed and dropped her hands in defeat. "Just having trouble getting this on."
Cana smirked as she entered the room. "Let me help." Her nimble fingers worked quickly to tuck in Lucy's bandages, pulling the black fabric over her shoulders and zipping up the back. "There."
Lucy turned, offering a weak smile, not bothering to comment on the flush to Cana's cheeks. To be honest, Lucy could use a drink, too.
The women stared at one another for a long moment, neither saying anything. Comforting words were pointless. They both knew sympathy had no merit here, and nothing could truly take away the gnawing misery grief left in its wake. Lucy could even say she felt numb; as if she wasn't truly there. She simply continued to go through the motions of the day.
Finally, Cana exhaled deeply, taking Lucy's hands into her own. "Okay."
Swallowing thickly, Lucy nodded. "Okay."
Breathe.
Lucy's black shoes clacked against the cobblestone, drawing her closer to the cemetery gates. The cool morning air bit at her exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise along her skin. Townsfolk stopped to stare at the group of mages who walked Magnolia's streets. A heavy air of sorrow quieted the happy chatter, inciting whispered words of condolences, all of which fell on deaf ears. Regardless of how they had felt about Fairy Tail in the past, no one in Magnolia had wished ill to befall the guild, and now the heart of their town had been irrefutably crushed.
Makarov stopped at the gravesites, tearful words of endearment spoken, but not really heard. The emotional paralysis felt unsettling. As the cold breeze kissed her skin, all Lucy could think of was how cold the bodies of her comrades had felt in her arms. So cold, she thought, folding her arms tight around herself. It seemed strange that two people who had been so full of fire and spirit could feel so cold to the touch.
Their gravestones towered over freshly-moved soil, bouquets of flowers resting at their feet. It didn't seem right that they were stowed away within the earth like everybody else. Natsu, Erza, and Happy were so much more than everyone else. They were the light that shone in the darkness, the fire that kept away the cold, and the spirit that breathed life into their hearts. No one else could even hope to measure up to them, and Lucy felt mild panic build in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of them having the same end.
The entirety of Fairy Tail mourned, sobbing with ragged, gasping breaths. Lucy casted her eyes to the charcoal sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as the first rain drop splashed against her cheek. It took a moment to realize she was crying, too, as rain and tears mingled on her face, salty tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. Her shoulders began to tremble as she covered her mouth with her hand, raw pain tearing from her throat as she cried out.
A toothy grin. An outstretched hand. "Come on!"
Her head pounded as she wailed, no longer able to keep her distress quiet. She futility wiped at her eyes, attempting in vain to bottle back up the wave of emotions as her legs shook beneath her. Suddenly, arms were around her, pulling her close, and Lucy didn't need to look up to know it was Gray. The scent of mint washed over her as she pressed her face into his chest, fingers curling around his dark navy jacket, bracing herself against him.
Lucy cried as if the ferocity of her anguished howls might bring him back - them back - as if by the sheer force of her grief fate could be undone. Natsu was her partner - her best friend, dammit - and he could not be gone! Gray tried to hold her steady, to calm her, his murmured words of assurance tickling her ear, but in her hysteria she tumbled out of his arms toward the graves.
She stumbled and collapsed to her knees before Natsu's name, not caring about the damp mud that soiled her dress. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. She cried as if her entire soul was being stripped from the inside. There was a rawness to her grief, as fresh as an open wound. Her whole body began to shake as all of her defenses and strength washed away. It was more than crying now. It was the kind of desolate sobbing that came from a person drained of all hope.
Lucy hiccupped, her vision blurring with tears. "Natsu," she cried meekly. Her gasping wails enveloped them, carried in the damp air. The pain that flowed from her was as palpable as the frigid rain, and soon Gray stood beside her. He struggled on what words could console, instead keeping his own anguish silent, as he looked up at the watery skies and heaven beyond.
And the rain continued to fall. It seemed to everyone watching that that was all it would ever do, and their lives then forth would forever be thwarted by the rain that shed so unrelenting from the sky.
A somber mood suffocated the guildhall as everyone gathered after the funeral. Many of their faces bore the wrinkles of laughter lines, but today they weren't furrowed but taut; stretched in mourning. The bar stood open, alcohol being passed without a word, a silver-haired barmaid moving robotically. Everyone dressed in the darkest of blacks. It wasn't often that the Fairy Tail guild was filled with such dread, and seeing it now felt out of place.
Chelia's blue eyes searched earnestly over the hall, brows knitted with concern. When the news of Team Natsu's deaths reached Lamia Scale, her first thought encompassed her dear friend's wellbeing. She knew Wendy had been very close to Natsu, like a sibling bond, a detail shared as they recovered from the dragon attacks in Crocus. If Chelia had lost Sherry, she wouldn't know what she would do.
She finally caught sight of Wendy sitting beside Charle at one of the tables. After a few mumbled words to Lyon and Jura, she hurried over to her friend. "Wendy," she called, sitting down beside her and placing a comforting hand on her arm. "Hey."
The dragon slayer lifted her head from where it had been cradled in her arms. She smiled a little, but it wasn't genuine. It was like the smile of a child who was determined not to weep. "Chelia," she greeted quietly, her shaky facade already slipping. "So nice of you to come."
Chelia frowned and shook her head. "Come on," she soothed. "We're friends, right? You don't have to be strong for me."
It was as if Wendy had been waiting for someone to give her permission to grieve. Almost instantaneously, tears welled up in her eyes. "I-I don't know what to do," she cried, clenching her hands into fists. "I-I just don't know how I'm supposed to do this!"
Chelia held Wendy's hands in her own. "It's not your fault," she attempted to reassure the utter desperation in her voice. "There was nothing you could have done."
Wendy's eyes flashed with anger as she jerked her hands away. "How would you feel if you declined to go on a mission?" she accused, her words biting. "How would you feel if someone wound up dead?!"
Charle placed her paws over her ears, shutting her eyes and looking away.
Chelia flinched. "I-I don't know-"
"Twice now I couldn't defeat a dragon. I watched as Cait Shelter disappeared before my eyes and I couldn't do anything to stop it!"
"Wendy-"
"Don't you understand?! I can't help anyone!" she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears already falling.
The god slayer quickly pulled Wendy to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Wendy shook in her arms, sobs wracking her tiny frame, and breaking Chelia's heart. Only days before, they had been battling during the Grand Magic Games. Wendy, although timid, had been a fierce opponent and had an amazing fighting spirit. To see her reduced to someone so defeated had Chelia's own spirit breaking.
How could she even begin to help her heal?
A haunting melody played over the speakers near the stage, drowning out the muffled voices in the gathered crowd. The lights dimmed, a ghostly spotlight reflecting off a glint of silver hair, and a hush fell. "I brush the desk with you gone; the shadow drops; alone again today," Mirajane's evocative voice called out as her fingers strummed over guitar strings. Lucy thought she sounded like a dying universe - the light which they all held dear fading into nonexistence. "Looking up at the starry sky, I say a prayer."
Makarov, already with a warm flush to his cheeks, sat down on the bar top beside Cana. She tipped her barrel back, tasting the burn of alcohol before offering it to him, which he obliged.
"I've been lost inside; the empty space in my heart," Mirajane continued to sing, her blue eyes shimmering. "In my imagination, you're waiting; lying on your side, with a smile; I watch you on the red horizon."
Lucy's eyes burned, and she pulled them away from the stage to the half-empty glass in front of her. Her hands tightly gripped the bench she sat upon as her teeth sank into the side of her cheek so hard she drew blood.
"And I will burn fate into a pile of ashes! I won't let anyone take away Lucy's future!"
Natsu's voice rang in her ears - a voice that so long ago had woken something deep within her. His voice had broken a spell, casted by Bora in Hargeon, but it had been so much more than that. He had pulled away the last fragments of a runaway heiress, leaving only Lucy, and she had somehow known when she met him that an adventure was going to happen. Natsu was like fireworks. He came in with a big entrance, lighting up her life in a thousand colors, and then he died, leaving her staring at a pitch black sky.
She bowed her head, finding a bright red stain on the carpet, left over from Cana's alcohol that she spilled when they had been told the news. It reminded her of the never-ending flow of blood that escaped a dying Natsu as she held his head in her lap, his dark eyes losing its fire as his life slipped away from him. And with every breath she drew, her heart swelled and broke for the person who would never find her again. She precariously mused about how people died of broken hearts; how when things went wrong and fell apart, it was the heart that hurt the most.
Is that what would happen to her? Because, frankly, she couldn't see past the grief that upended her life so completely. She had never felt this way, not even when her parents had died. So how was she supposed to get past this?
Gray tensed beside her as Mirajane continued to sing, Juvia's worried eyes stealing glances at his stony expression. His hand sat next to Lucy's on the bench. They hadn't spoken much since that night in the infirmary - minus the whispered exchange at the cemetery - but now she needed his comfort. She needed to know he was still there, still alive and breathing. That they were both alive and breathing. She couldn't bear to lose him, too. She looped her pinkie finger around his, and he tightened his own, one small connection while the world fell apart around them.
"And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak; nothing else ever seems to hurt; like the smile on your face when it's only a memory."
When Lucy dared to peer up at Gray's face, she found his gaze remained vacant as he stared across the guildhall, his eyes a cold winter she had never seen before.
"Even when you're shaking with tears; even when it seems like you'll be lost to the darkness; don't forget you always have-" Mirajane's throat closed with emotion, and she swallowed thickly. "You always have a place to return to; you always have people waiting for you to return."
As the last chords of her ballad echoed in the silent guildhall, there was no standing ovation. Her emotions rang loud and clear through the night, rendering the hall shaken. Only Juvia's worried eyes and the slam of the back door drew any concern.
Nobody spoke, but nobody needed to.
An hour later, Gray still hadn't returned, compelling Lucy to follow after him. Even Juvia didn't know how to comfort the ice-make mage, and had resorted to fretting over him to Gajeel. The iron dragon slayer did his best to soothe her concerns, but Lucy could tell it wasn't doing much good.
She found Gray standing by the bonfire lit outside under an awning in the back. It had been created by Romeo to help keep the light chill in the air from the rain at bay. Gray stood next to the fire, his entire body swaying slightly.
"You all right?" Lucy asked, walking up to him with her arms wrapped around her, eyes filled with unease.
It took a moment for Gray to realize she had spoken, or even stood beside him. He glanced back at her with a glazed expression, his jaw hanging slack. "Not real'y 'n the partyin' mood."
She sighed, watching the flames curl and flicker, crackling as they burned the wood. It felt good to feel their warmth, shying away the cold empty feeling in her chest. "Sometimes, it's hard to breathe," she said quietly, eyes never leaving the fire. "I-I can't sleep, because every time I close my eyes, I see their faces from that day."
Gray didn't say anything. He had gone outside in order to escape the suffocating silence in the guildhall, but now that Lucy offered her company and words, he wasn't sure what he wanted. So, he simply stared at the fire with a frigid guise, drinking a swig of alcohol.
"I-I don't know what to do, Gray," Lucy cried out in a strangled voice, squeezing her eyes shut and wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "We-We survived. What are we supposed to do?"
Her voice dripped with sadness, regret and fear. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gray just watched her slowly destroy herself from the inside out. But how was he supposed to answer her? He didn't know where they were supposed to go from here or what they were supposed to do. He wanted to tell her that it would be okay, that they would get through this, that someday the pain wouldn't be as suffocating.
He wanted to fill her with hope again.
But, he couldn't. How could he convince her to believe in something, when he couldn't believe it himself? Their friends were killed by demons created by Zeref - just like his parents and Ur. They couldn't avenge them. They couldn't bring them back. All they could do was endure.
"Endure."
And they retreated back into themselves, erecting walls people had long ago broken through. The rain continued falling, unaware of their pain and despair, washing out the faith in their hearts.
Crimson eyes glared across the expanse of the guildhall, sensitive hearing picking up on the muffled conversations filled with pity and remorse. The entire atmosphere made him sick. His veins burned with rage unlike any other he had felt, and the rest of his guildmates were licking their wounds like a bunch of injured stray dogs.
Gajeel clenched his hand tighter around the cup he held, doing everything in his power to keep his anger in check. When he had first heard the news of Salamander and Titania's deaths, along with that blue cat, he had felt shock and disbelief. Those two were on par with his strength, and had never been easily defeated - if at all. Hell, they had both nearly died a few times over the years, simply because of pride and their ideal to always fight for their friends. The iron dragon slayer loved a good fight and hated to lose, but even he knew when it was time to run with his tail between his legs. His fight with Natsu during the Phandom Lord attack taught him that, and then again during the dragon strike on Tenrou Island.
Even still, after he had overcome the bombshell Makarov had delivered, he didn't feel sadness or regret like the other Fairy Tail members. It was true he hadn't known Natsu, Erza, or Happy as long as the rest of them, but it surprised him that the guild had so easily given up on vengeance.
He was angry - enough to go rampaging after the bastards who had killed a fellow dragon slayer. The only problem was, he didn't know who he was supposed to lead an assault on. Lucy and Gray had been tight-lipped about it, and Makarov didn't seem all too eager to pull the information from them.
"By the look on your face, I have a feeling our minds are on the same track," Sting said as he sauntered up to the table Gajeel sat at, Rogue close at his side.
"Tch," Gajeel grumbled, taking a sip of alcohol as the twin dragon slayers took seats across from him. "What's it to you?"
"Demons from the books of Zeref killed a fellow dragon slayer," Rogue enlightened sourly, his hand clenched into a tight fist. Frosch, his usual happy-go-lucky exceed, had collapsed into tears, bundled away in Rogue's jacket. "Why is everyone just standing around?"
Gajeel's steely eyes glanced between them. "You think I wouldn't be out there searching for the monsters myself if I could?" he growled.
"What's the hold up?" Sting argued back. "Let's go after the bastards."
"I don't think you understand. We don't know who the hell we're supposed to go after."
Rogue and Sting exchanged a look. The white dragon slayer narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? Lucy and Gray fought them. They should know."
Gajeel rested his head against his hand, his bent elbow on the table. "They're not talkin'. And Makarov doesn't seem to have the guts to interrogate them."
"Those demons murdered their team!" Sting seethed, icy blue eyes glaring at him. "What's there to talk about?!"
"Look, I'd like to fight the demons as much as you would. We've got nothing to go on right now." Gajeel took another swig thoughtfully, and then, "But something like this ain't gonna stay quiet for long. Once these fairies finish feeling sorry for themselves, they're gonna be pissed and'll be looking for retribution."
Rogue nodded. "And then we strike back."