The Last of Us
Chapter 8
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Acrid tendrils of thick, grey smoke curled around him and clouds of ash streaked the night sky. Humid air clung to his skin, making it hard to breathe. The city rose before him, created of tar and embers, and mirroring the derelict shells of Isvan. Crunching gravel tore Gray's attention to his right, fire illuminating a red halo that captivated him as it spun in the breeze.
The color of her hair.
He suddenly felt sick, his mouth dropping open in stunned horror as he watched Erza stumble toward him. She dragged her sword behind her, a murderous look in her eyes as she stared vacantly at him - through him - as if he meant nothing to her. Her armor was gone, the fairy tail emblem on her left shoulder gleaming from the embers burning the scorched earth.
"Erza?" he murmured, shifting to try and climb to his feet, but a sharp pain rocketed through his stomach, paralyzing him. He pressed a hand over his wound, trying to keep his thoughts together as the pain ebbed and flowed, blood seeping over his skin and dripping to the ground beneath him.
Words didn't answer him, only the look in her eyes, regarding him and holding him solely accountable. Her piercing stare studied him with unforgiving judgment. It was his fault, his fault, his fault.
'I'm sorry!' he tried to scream, attempting to relay to his comrade - his friend, his family - that he had never meant for her to die for him, for any of them to die for him. But no sound came out, merely a gasping breath as he felt his throat tighten.
Erza stood only a few feet away from him now, her eyes never blinking, never tearing away from his face, blaming him for her death. She slowly lifted her sword, unapologetically vengeful as she raised it over her head, preparing to strike him where he cowered, emotionally and physically incapable of moving.
And then her ribs snapped like twigs, the crunch of bone grating to his ears as her body recoiled, her sword dropping with a loud clunk against the dirt. Blood, as red as the hair that framed her face, flooded through her eyes and her guts came tumbling out of her mouth. She fell to her knees, hands clawing at her throat as if to do away with the threat on her life. An agonized scream, muffled by the bile dripping from her lips, pierced the air as she fell, writhing in agony as her stomach was ripped open, and all her organs poured out.
Gray watched, petrified to where he sat, as Erza slowly and horrifically died, her venomous glare never leaving him.
His fault.
She drooled red blood.
Gray startled awake and abruptly sat up in bed, every thought in high definition. Wide eyes took in the dark shadows of his room lit by the purple glow of twilight, and his shaky and uneven breaths that forced their way out. Cicadas buzzed outside his window, indicating he had slept the afternoon away.
His hand ran through his messy hair, his skin slicked with a cold sweat, as his nightmares taunted him from the edges of his thoughts. "Just a dream," he murmured, the gruesome image of Erza's corpse permanently frozen behind his eyelids. With his heart beating frantically beneath his chest and the unsettling nightmare corralling his thoughts, he knew he would be a far cry from falling back to sleep.
Just as well. Apparently he hadn't had enough to drink before succumbing to an intoxicated doze. He had found alcohol let him sleep dreamlessly, albeit fitfully, and had come to use it as a crutch to keep the nightmares at bay. But he must not have had enough, for Erza's judgemental gaze had found him, holding him irrefutably responsible.
She died, and it may have well been by his own hand.
His lips pulled into a frown, the rational part of his brain trying to convince him that he wasn't to blame, but those thoughts were easily squashed. How many people had sacrificed themselves for him? Had died for him? At this point, it wasn't a coincidence, it was a pattern. The only commonality between them all had been him - weak, foolish, insignificant Gray Fullbuster.
The thought left a bitter taste on his tongue, and with his wakefulness now surging to life, he also felt a hangover beginning to rear its ugly head. He became acutely aware of his brain feeling like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull, and his dehydration became too obvious to ignore. His tongue felt like cotton as he licked his dry, cracked lips.
Right now he wanted two things: a way to make the nightmares vanish, and a cure for his hangover.
Enough booze would accomplish both.
Gray's gaze roamed his disheveled apartment, finding the empty bottle of liquor he had bought the previous day. "Shit," he groaned, hanging his head before precariously pulling his legs from beneath his comforter. He sat on the edge of his bed, exhaling a deep sigh. He didn't have enough Jewel to buy another bottle right now, so his only alternative would be to get drunk at the guild - or more truthfully, drunk on Gramps' dime.
Since… He swallowed thickly. Ever since that day, Gray hadn't shown his face at the guild much. The last thing he wanted was to be all clingy with his guildmates as they grieved for the dead. He didn't want to mourn anymore. It wouldn't change anything. And the more time that passed, the more he grew hot with rage.
He felt a fire in his chest, a searing heat that ran through his veins like dry ice. The desire to brutally beat someone to a pulp was so intense, the only thing he found to quiet the darker parts of himself was keeping a bottle to his lips. It would blur his sense of reason, but it would also numb the pain. That was enough to keep his anger in check.
Weighing his options, Gray voted that getting drunk with his guildmates was better than being hungover by himself, so he finally stumbled his way to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder and throwing on a pair of pants he deemed somewhat-clean after a quick smell, he made his way out of his apartment and down the street.
The Fairy Tail guildhall stood at the edge of Magnolia like a forgotten relic. A once brightly-lit beacon on the coast now stood as a dark and somber reminder of what had been lost. When he used to walk to the guild at such a late hour, he would be able to hear the boisterous voices inside from a mile away. Now he only heard the deafening quiet. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to what he had come to know as home for the last decade.
Light and laughter and the insane energy that made up Fairy Tail.. Was it all lost? Did all of their tenacity and spirit die the day Natsu, Erza, and Happy did? Had their group of misfits been so battered and bruised from childhood that Natsu's virgin optimism and Erza's headstrong courage were the only things that held them together?
Gray clenched his jaw, his barely-concealed anger simmering just beneath the surface. He needed a drink. He needed to stop thinking.
Shuffling into the Fairy Tail Guild, Gray barely paid attention to those who occupied the hall. He only had one thing on his mind as he made a beeline for the bar. Cana sat two stools down from him, which wasn't surprising, because as of late she appeared to have made that stool her permanent residence.
"A drink, Mira," Gray called to the barmaid, which earned him a concerned glance, but she moved to do as he asked.
"Jeez, Gray, you smell like a brewery," Cana quipped, covering her nose with the hand that wasn't clutching her drink.
He scoffed. "That's rich coming from you, Boozy."
Cana frowned and studied him closely. His cheeks flushed and he squirmed under her gaze, not enjoying the feeling of being scrutinized. She finally sighed and looked back at the mug in her hand. "Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it," she murmured sympathetically.
Her words did nothing to soothe his ire, the resentment and fear clawing at his throat as the image of Erza's body flashed through his mind. Cana's sympathy only made his irritation intensify ten-fold. "Don't patronize me," he said with a sneer. "You of all people have no room to talk."
She raised a brow and glanced around at the near-empty guildhall before returning her attention to the ice-make mage. He was right; if anyone knew about drinking one's problems away, it was definitely Cana Alberona. Hoping to quell the storm raging within him, she scooted a barstool closer to him. "All right, buddy. Talk to me."
Gray stole a look at the card mage. Her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were flushed, a sure sign of her intoxication, yet she seemed to enjoy being chronically drunk. He thought after she had confessed her lineage to Gildarts, her drinking would taper off, but Cana remained immutably sloshed. But there was something different about the way she looked at him - with pity in her eyes for the poor ice mage who could barely keep himself alive. Of course he wouldn't be able to protect those he cared for. He couldn't even protect himself.
He clenched his hands into fists as they rested on the bartop. He recognized that Cana was only trying to be a friend, but a friend wasn't what he needed right now. Having a simple conversation wasn't going to change the past, and wouldn't avenge the dead. "What's there to talk about?"
Her lips pulled into a frown. "Well, you have to talk to someone. Obviously the liquor isn't doing the job."
Damn. This was exactly why he would've rather become obliterated in the darkness of his apartment - where he could be alone to drown his sorrows and anger, force the nightmares and memories to fade if only for a few restless hours of drunken sleep. He instead found himself at the mercy of the card mage whose magic could read him regardless if he wanted her to or not. It made his skin crawl with nerves.
"I wasn't…" Gray chewed over his words, trying to piece them together in a way that conveyed his barely restrained emotions. He swallowed thickly past the lump forming in his throat, staring wistfully at the bartop. He was no longer at the guild; he was back out on that battlefield of Freesia, hearing the terrified shrieks, the cries of his friends, seeing the color red as it pooled from their wounds. Heat from the blasts seared his skin, pain rocketing through him as claws ripped apart muscle. His hands shook. "I couldn't save them. Out there, I wasn't strong enough to help anybody. I couldn't even save myself."
He heard Cana set her mug down before she rested her hand on his shoulder. "That's not your fault," she tried to soothe. "You're not to blame."
Any quiet pretense she had hoped for as she comforted him was quickly extinguished. Cana didn't understand his utter hopelessness, the guilt that ate away at him every waking moment, and terrorized his dreams. She wasn't there. Gray had always been the level-headed member of Team Natsu, or so he had been told. The chaos that imbued their team had been centered by Lucy's intelligence and his cool demeanor. He rarely lashed out or lost control.
But now the levee, barely keeping his raging emotions in check, broke at Cana's words and a shower of icicles awoke within him. "To hell I'm not!" he snarled as he stood, knocking the barstool over, setting such an intense glare on her, it would've plunged terror into the most steadfast of hearts. She jerked her hand away as if she'd been burned. He then whipped his attention to Mirajane, who had not gone unnoticed as she silently listened in on their conversation. "Are you gonna get me that drink or what?" he barked, his voice sharp and causing the barmaid to flinch.
"Gray!" Cana snapped.
A thick anger fell upon him, burying all the other emotions that were harder to feel. "I don't want to hear it," he said in a low, dangerous tone, warning her not to push back. "I just want my damn drink." So I can forget it all.
Gray felt overcome by storm clouds, rolling together and clashing, the thunder within him rattling any sliver of control he had left. He fumbled for a way out of this, the feelings that were too big and dark and heavy for him to navigate, but the only solution his muddled mind could grasp at was drowning in alcohol, to mute the overwhelming emotions threatening to shatter him.
Cana's expression hardened, her lips setting in a thin line. "I think you need to go back to bed," she warned in a clipped tone.
By this point, the soft murmurs of conversation throughout the guild had quieted, all attention drawn to the heated argument at the bar. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Gajeel's carmine eyes drifted to where Gray was causing a stir. Mirajane looked more fragile than ever, her misty eyes glancing between Cana and Gray, her bottom lip trembling. And Cana looked as if she were about to take off Gray's head after he had snapped at the barmaid.
Everyone barely held it together and any little upset could smash the shaky foundation they stood upon. It was a miracle they still remained vertical.
"Keep it down, Popsicle," Gajeel said from the bench he lazed upon, resting his chin on his fist, elbow leaning on the table.
Gray's attention snapped to him. "What did you say?"
The iron dragon slayer climbed to his feet and stalked toward the bar. "I told you to shut it."
Whatever shaky command Gray had left over his emotions finally splintered then. His eyes flashed, and he threw his fist in the dragon slayer's direction. Gajeel easily side-stepped the poorly aimed punch, Gray's emotionally charged stance not even close to being on target. "What the hell, Streaker?!" he growled venomously. "Taking me out ain't gonna fix anything."
"Stop it, please," Mirajane begged as she watched Gray round on Gajeel for another attack, the latter avoiding it again. "We shouldn't be fighting each other!"
"Fight dammit!" Gray yelled, infuriated with his punches only meeting air. He ignored Mirajane's cry as his hands moved to produce an ice creation aimed at a man who stood as strong as iron. "Don't just stand there! What the hell happened to you?! Come on, Black Steel Gajeel! Fight back!"
"You want to go?" he sneered in return, his hands flexing as the air temperature cooled. "You need to punch something that bad?"
Furious, Gray responded with an attack, his battle cry of "ice-make lance!" drowning out his guildmates' protests.
Gajeel blocked his attack with a sword made of steel, red eyes glaring at him. "I'm not the enemy anymore!"
The look in Gray's eyes reflected that he was beyond reason and no amount of words would penetrate his erratic emotions. Before he could draw on another attack, Gajeel swiftly kneed him in the chin, twisted Gray's arm behind his back and grappled him to the ground. Despite the ringing in his ears from the sharp strike to his chin, Gray struggled against Gajeel, fighting to regain the upper hand.
"Let go!" Gray shouted, wrestling against the knee pressed into the middle of his shoulders. He had never sparred with Gajeel before - something he now regretted - so his awareness of the dragon slayer's strength and fighting moves was negligible at best. In his desperation, Gray resorted to pulling and pushing against anything he could, fighting to turn the tides of their skirmish. Just as he managed to pull his arm under him for leverage to heave Gajeel off him, he found himself the victim of a dog pile, with Elfman, Warren, Nab, and Max joining in Gajeel's effort to restrain him.
"Picking fights with your comrades?" Elfman said with a scoff. "That's not being a real man!"
"Get off me!" Gray tried again, resisting the immense weight pressing into him. He wanted to fight them all, the frenzied emotions within him consuming any rational thought he had. Never had he experienced such an intense desire to punch someone - not even Natsu - but his bottled up rage spilled over. How could he quell something so immensely powerful?
He blindly threw up his elbow to make contact with Elfman, and used the momentum to twist and lock his fist into Nab's chin, the movement causing Gajeel to lose purchase on his other arm. "Ice-make floor!" A sheet of ice covered the immediate area around him, enough to send his guildmates slipping and fumbling over the sudden loss of stable ground. It was just enough of an advantage for Gray to slide out of their clutches and put distance between him and those who wanted to subdue his volatile behavior.
Climbing to his feet outside of the floor of ice, Gray's chest heaved unevenly as he struggled to draw shaky breaths, rattled from the physical and emotional struggle. He felt like a caged animal backed into a corner, his emotional wrath and the stares of his guildmates suffocating - eyes studying him from those sprawled across the floor, from the bar, from the few wizards scattered across the guild. The atmosphere felt too thick, the heaviness of their gazes swerving between pity and judgment.
"I don't need this," Gray muttered, closing the distance between him and the bar in a few long strides, leaning over and grabbing a bottle of whiskey near the tap. "I don't need any of you." Turning his back on the other members of Fairy Tail, he left the guildhall, letting the door slam shut behind him.
Juvia felt sick to her stomach. She had seen Gray spar with his fellow wizards several times in the past, but this time felt different. This time there had been unadulterated madness behind every blow, and it terrified her. Since she had met Gray on the roof of Phantom Lord's base, he had always been cool and collected, reflecting the magic he wielded with ease. Even when they were enemies, their battle was wrought with apologies, flustered words, and quick-witted maneuvers that brought him victory.
She had never even heard him raise his voice - at least, not like this. Not in true, blind rage, not in the sense of actually wanting to cause harm to one of his guildmates. And maybe that wasn't completely accurate. He had been lashing out, so perhaps his intention to harm was frivolous at best. Yet, the encounter had left Juvia shaken, frozen to her place where Gajeel had once been sitting, unable to tear her eyes away from the train wreck in front of her.
Gray didn't lash out. Gray didn't let emotions jostle him. Gray didn't lose his head.
Juvia's breath came quick, her heart hammering in her chest, as fear crept up her spine like winter's chill. If the events that had changed everything for them were enough to rattle the cool and collected ice mage, who remained steady no matter the challenge, what did that mean for the rest of them?
She walked toward the bar, where Cana remained with her brows scrunched in irritation. "What a dick," the resident boozer mumbled before tipping back her bottle.
The bluenette's eyes drifted from Cana and Mirajane to the guildhall doors. "Juvia will follow him to make sure he's all right."
Cana glanced her way. "I don't know if that's such a good idea right now," she deplored, a touch of concern in her voice. "He's not in his right mind."
"Are any of us?" Juvia murmured, then turned and followed Gray into the night.
She knew the walk to Gray's apartment like the back of her hand, a route she had taken more than she cared to admit. Juvia had never actually been in his apartment, never gathering the courage to attempt to cross that invisible line, but she did tend to gravitate toward that area of town when she was out for a stroll, or taking the long way to where Gajeel and Pantherlily lived. The night was warm, the last purple hues of sunset fading, allowing stars to begin their iridescent twinkle in the sky.
Clasping her hands behind her back, Juvia slowed her steps, mind tumbling over what words to say that could possibly ease Gray's distress. She had never been a master of language, never been able to command a room with a few well-placed verses. Her ability to carry conversation matched her aptness at developing meaningful relationships - she blundered both entirely. She stumbled over words and awkward exchanges, never understanding that human connection that so many found with ease.
She blamed her upbringing, shuttled between orphanages, on the receiving end of taunts and disgusted looks. The rain kept away the warmth of the sun, and with it, the welcoming embrace of friendship. It had been lonely, and so very isolated, leaving her awkward and confused when it came to interacting with those around her.
So how was she, the gloomy rain woman with only a fragment of human understanding, supposed to comfort a man who stood as steady as a glacial mass as it drifted through the seas? Where she faltered, Gray stood firm. She had never known him to be weak or needing the relieving embrace of a friend. He had never seemed to seek out comfort in touch or conversation. He had always been strong.
Then again, Juvia began to wonder if perhaps she had been so blinded by her adoration for him that she failed to read between the lines. Because certainly the man she had fallen in love with could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without even a stumble. He had taken the rain away, igniting her life in sun-kissed rays. He was her savior, her knight in shining armor, and everything she wasn't.
But had she missed something? Had she missed sadness beneath his guarded gaze? Had she failed to notice his silent cry for help in the glances she had stolen from him after the battle with the dragons? Should she have asked if he was okay? Should she have offered her quiet company, if only to let him know that she was there to lean on?
A frown tugged at her lips. Maybe she was naive. Maybe she had been so swept up in the grandeur of seeing the sun, feeling its warmth, that she had ignored the very simple fact that perhaps she didn't know Gray at all. They hadn't even known each other a full year, if they didn't count the years spent in stasis on Tenrou Island. She remained ignorant of the unseen scars that ravaged his heart, completely oblivious of his past.
What adversities had he overcome for Gray Fullbuster to become the man he was today?
Juvia didn't know, and that fact formed a pit in her stomach.
She paused and looked up at the towering apartment complex in front of her; a brown-stoned building with forest green shutters and a rooftop that blended into the night sky. Her hands toyed with the cotton end of her sleeves, rolling lint balls between her thumb and forefinger. Even after the walk, words still escaped her, but she couldn't turn back, not when she knew he was hurting.
With a deep breath, Juvia entered the apartment building, climbed three flights of stairs, and rapped her knuckles against Gray's door. It took a moment for it to creak open on its hinges, Gray's silhouette back-lit by a soft, yellow glow. His hair was tousled, and his hot temper seemed to have evaporated as he looked down at her. He didn't look surprised, nor angry. The wrath he had exhibited at the guildhall was missing, as if it had only been a ghost playing on the strings of their heartbreak. He had even thrown on a button-down shirt, granted it had been left unbuttoned, his skin awash in amber from the dim hallway lights.
"Juvia," he mumbled in greeting, leaning his arm against the doorframe, his forehead against his forearm. "What're you doin' here?"
She swallowed thickly, praying to Mavis words wouldn't leave her. "Juvia came to see you." She clenched a hand over her chest, hoping to stop her trembling. "Juvia wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Hn." His brows furrowed as he inclined his chin. "Do I look all right?"
No, she wanted to scream, tell him how much he terrified her. His words were biting, and harsher than he had ever spoken to her. There was a cold fury about him now, not the fiery outrage she had seen at the guild, but something more reserved and unsettling. She wasn't sure which Gray scared her more.
After a moment he left the doorway and proceeded further into the apartment, leaving the door open. Juvia hesitantly followed after him, a small part of her feeling a flush of excitement as she realized this would be the first time she was in Gray's apartment - where he slept at night. She only wished it had been under better circumstances.
Her eyes roamed the expanse of his one-bedroom apartment, catching sight of the bottle of whiskey he had taken from the bar, opened and sitting on the coffee table within reach. Gray was going to get drunk regardless of how the night ended up, she realized.
Juvia watched precariously as he slumped down on his well-worn couch, pouring himself another glass, ice clinking against each other. A single dull lamp on the end table sent a soft light about the room. She could barely see, but from what she could tell, the apartment wasn't well kept. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and dishes had been left in various places. At least he was eating. She would take that little victory.
"Are you hungry?" she offered, her eyes wistfully glancing at his darkened kitchen. "I could make you something to eat."
"Nah. I'm good."
She folded her arms behind her and leaned against the wall. Her eyes found him again, watching the lamp light's glow shift across his body as he lifted his arm and brought his glass to his lips. The apartment air had a chill to it, but she didn't bother commenting on it. Gray never got cold, so trying to comfort him with warmth was silly.
"Do you need something?" he finally asked, his gaze never straying from the bottle.
Juvia blinked at him owlishly. Did she need something? Yes. She needed him to be okay. She needed him to blush furiously as she made him Juvia Buns, and fluster as she flirted with him. She needed him to laugh at the guildhall and say dead-panned comments that always made her smile. She needed him to gossip like an old woman and pick out a job to test all he learned from the Grand Magic Games.
She needed him to be okay.
"No," she instead replied softly. "Not particularly."
"Then why don't you leave?"
His words were like a slap to the face, again with that acrimonious tone he had greeted her with. Her eyes burned with tears as she dug her nails into the soft flesh of her palms. "Gray-"
"Can't you see I want to drink alone?" he interrupted her. "I'd rather not have company right now."
Brutally honest, something he had never been with her. It was hard to hear it now, in a place she always wanted to be, yet listening to him tell her something she never wanted to hear. Still, she stood her ground.
She turned toward him, furrowing her brows. "Please, Gray, tell Juvia what to do to help you. Juvia knows you're hurting, that you're struggling."
"Yeah, you're right," he bit back bitterly, causing her to recoil. The look he gave her made her blood run cold, as if he looked down on her, as if mocking her for daring to believe she could ever understand. "I know you want to help me, but you have no idea what I'm going through."
He was right, of course. She didn't. She had never lost three of her most treasured friends - family - all in one fell swoop right in front of her. She couldn't fathom the grief and the guilt eating him up inside. But that didn't give him the right to be cruel. "We're at least friends, right?" she asked, her voice shaking and small, as if it pained her to speak. "Friends are supposed to be there for one another."
This much she knew to be true. She may not understand how to traverse the waters of friendship or relationships, but she had seen Fairy Tail embody the spirit of comradeship more times than she could count. They carried each other through the tough times, and celebrated with each other during the high times. They never turned each other away and always had a listening ear. They had taught her the true meaning of a familial bond.
Gray exhaled deeply, as if exhausted by her presence. "Listen, I'm in no state to emotionally support anyone right now."
That wasn't what she meant. It wasn't she who needed the support right now.
"That's not what Juvia meant. Juvia is here for you. Maybe if you just-"
"I'm not your mess to clean up!" he suddenly barked at her, that heated rage flitting to the surface once more as his gaze met hers, hot with righteous vexation. "So stop talking to me like I'm some plan gone wrong!"
His words left her speechless, frozen to where she stood, as her ears rang with his sharp tone. His eyes were unforgiving, boring into her own, until she finally pulled her gaze away. This was not the Gray Fullbuster she had come to care for. This was not the man who saved her from the rain.
"Okay," she finally whispered, the meager fight she had leaving her. She should have listened to Cana, a woman who had known Gray for far longer than she. He-He didn't mean all of those harsh words. He didn't mean to make tears well in her eyes. He didn't mean to lash out.
Right?
Even if he had opened his door to her, he wasn't ready to open his heart.
"Juvia will go," she said, turning to leave. "But she will not give up on you, Gray Fullbuster."
As quiet as a breath, she exited his apartment and didn't look back, leaving him to wallow in his own grief.
There were many things that Levy adored about reading novels, and at the top of that list was the ability to escape to another world. Lost in the pages of her books, she could momentarily forget the reality crashing down around her, the anguish of grief and the struggle of moving forward. From the tall tales of knights fighting dragons through magical forests, to the more monotonous tomes of Fiore's ancient history, anything would do as long as it didn't allow her to dwell on the present.
Since Gray's outburst earlier that evening, Levy struggled keeping focused. Part of her wanted to shut herself back down in the library and continue pouring over volumes that may have some connection with Tartaros, but she found her lack of attention would only hinder her investigation. Although she hadn't been at the guild at the time, Cana had filled her in on Gray and Gajeel's confrontation. It made Levy wince just thinking about the ice-make mage's sudden ebullition. Since childhood, Levy had never seen Gray lash out so viciously, and the picture Cana painted made Levy question if the man who perpetrated that behavior was really Gray at all.
She sighed as she tore her eyes away from her book to the rest of the guildhall. The distinct bitter, herby smell of freshly brewed beer paired with the underlying sweet aroma of baked bread filled the air and remained the only remnant of what the Fairy Tail Guild had always been. It was the smell of home, something Levy cherished now more than ever. The sounds had changed - no boisterous brawls or corny jokes - and the air had transfigured into something unfamiliar - absent of magic and familiar kinship. There was now a Before and an After; a clearly defined moment into what Fairy Tail had been and what it would never be again.
The people remained - Cana throwing back barrels at the bar, Mirajane pouring drinks, Macao and Wakaba sharing war stories and commenting on the kids these days - but they were only shells of who they had once been. Eyes listless, a flood of emotions staved off by sheer will, voices hollow as they spoke. It just felt so incredibly wrong, and if the plaque sitting above the front door didn't explicitly state it, Levy would question if this was the Fairy Tail Guild at all.
"Where's Natsu?" Sweet, little Asuka's voice rang out clearly over the hall, tearing Levy from her thoughts, and silencing any quiet conversation.
Everyone paused, and Levy held her breath, an air of fragile stillness filling the guild. Asuka's voice had been deafening, the name of the dragon slayer causing an ache to bloom to life in their chests, sharply reminding them of all that had been lost. Mirajane stopped wiping the bar top, her blue eyes sliding to where Asuka sat on her mother's lap.
Bisca's lips pulled into a shaky smile, her eyes watery, as she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "Honey, we've been over this," she murmured, but it was loud enough for Levy to hear. "Natsu had-had to go away for a long time. He's not coming back."
Asuka innocently peered around the rest of the guild, her gaze focusing on the few members who sat with baited breath. "Is that why everyone's been so sad?" she asked, her large doe eyes peering up at her mother.
Levy could tell the markswoman mage struggled with keeping her voice steady as she spoke, "Yeah. We're all sad that Natsu, Erza, and Happy had to leave. But, we know they're just on another adventure, right?"
"Right!" Asuka exclaimed with a smile, pumping her fists into the air as if exhilarated by the prospect of hearing tales of adventure when they returned.
The words had been so, so far from the truth, sugar coated for children's ears, to soften the blow and fend off the grief, at least for a little while. Asuka would live in ignorance for now, still wearing the rose-colored glasses of childhood and protected from the harsh reality the outside world dealt without care. Someday, Levy knew Bisca and Alzack would tell her the truth - would explain to her in as few details as possible that the dragon slayer, the knight, and the silly blue cat had died vicious deaths while doing something they loved dearly.
At present, though, Asuka's memories of them would remain untarnished - unperturbed by nightmares and despondency. She would laugh and smile and play as if monsters only hid under her bed at night and didn't walk amongst the city streets and skyline. That hopefulness, that bright future shining in her eyes, would be protected at all costs.
A flash of golden light suddenly tore Levy's gaze from the Connell family to see Loke had appeared beside her. Bags had formed under his eyes, belying the smile tugging at his lips that was much too unsteady to pacify her worry.
She frowned. "Loke-"
"It's Lucy," he murmured, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. In that moment, he looked way too frail to be the Leader of the Zodiac. Exhaustion shined in his eyes and his shoulders sagged as if he had carried a heavy burden for far too long.
Levy stood quickly, all thoughts of little Asuka and the pages of her fairy tale forgotten. "Is Lucy okay?"
"She needs you."
The solid-script mage didn't give it a second thought. She practically sprinted out of the guildhall, her thoughts turning to a pretty blonde with her head in the stars who deserved the world.
For the past week, Lucy's bedroom window had been her only connection to the outside world, the rainbow of colors between sunrise and sunset creeping into her room between drawn curtains. The bustle of Magnolia drifted up to her, rising and falling like the tide, as day turned to night, turned to day, and back again. She slept fitfully, her dreams plagued with her final moments with Natsu, of the never-ending flow of blood that escaped him as he died, as she held his head on her lap even as his dark eyes lost its fire and his life slipped away from him.
She dreamed of Erza, her smiles and adoration for strawberry cake, her large cart of luggage she traveled with, and her fierce gaze whenever someone became too rowdy. Then those dreams twisted into nightmares, of Erza's armor cracking, of blood staining her skin, and of eyes that could no longer see.
The nightmares woke Lucy violently in a cold sweat, her heart pounding and breath coming in sharp gasps. It took a few minutes for her to reorientate herself, but with that came the realization that her nightmares were irrevocably true. Even as she calmed her breathing as the clock on her nightstand ticked the seconds by, she knew her bad dreams were only a product of reality.
Sometimes, it was worse. On occasion she would dream of her death. Those dreams were violent and cruel, and each time, Natsu was the one who killed her with a wicked grin and dragon-like claws. When nightmares and phantoms chased her from sleep, she found herself sprinting to the bathroom just in time to hurl her pitiful stomach contents into the toilet. It left her shaking, her throat raw, and tears wetting her cheeks.
After a particularly harrowing one in which Happy made an appearance - wings dripping with blood - a knock on the door had Lucy lifting her head from the cool porcelain of the toilet, eyes drifting to the hallway. "Lucy?"
Levy sure was persistent. It had only been a day since she had last tried to visit, and Lucy still didn't feel up to much company. She sighed, flushed the toilet, and swished some water in her mouth to clean out the taste of bile. Burrowing back under her covers to hide away from the world sounded like a much better idea than facing what broke her head-on.
So she did. Lucy retreated beneath her comforter, shivering from the unwelcomed coolness ghosting across her skin. She wrapped herself beneath the covers, only a head of golden tresses peeking out on the pillow, as she tried in vain to push away the tears burning in her eyes. Hopelessness weighed on her heavily, like swimming through thick, murky waters, vision swallowed in darkness and no sense of direction.
When the stars faded from the sky and the sun exploded, and the planets stopped moving and the oceans totaled them… would Lucy still be there? Hiding under her covers, wondering what her life would be like if Natsu hadn't left her?
"Lu?"
She twisted her blanket into a fist, attempting to will Levy away. The solid-script mage was undeniably caring, and would never allow a friend to suffer if she could help it. She had the strange habit of being able to pick up on others moods and discern if something troubled them. Or in Lucy's case, if they weren't coping well.
After a few moments of silence, Lucy believed Levy had taken the hint and decided to let her submerge herself in melancholy. But then she heard the murmur of a voice, felt a quick swish of magic in the air, and then the sound of her door unlocking resonated through her apartment.
Lucy peered over the top of her bed covers, eyes trained on her bedroom door curiously, before a tiny woman with bright blue hair slowly stepped over the threshold. Levy's eyes searched the dark apartment curiously before finally landing on Lucy enveloped in her bed.
"Hey, Lucy," the solid-script mage started, warily taking a few steps toward her. "I heard you're not doing so well."
The blonde scoffed, Levy's words an understated candor. "Did you just use magic to break into my house?" she replied instead, voice hoarse with neglect.
A smile tugged at her lips as she padded more confidently over to Lucy's bed and sat on the edge, fingers working to uncurl the blanket from around Lucy's shoulders. "Should I have used the fireplace?" she teased.
Lucy noted how Levy didn't mention her window, the entrance Natsu and Happy often used, and instead kept her attention on Gray's particular method of barging in. Those little careful details made Lucy's heart warm at her dear friend's attentiveness.
The blonde frowned. "I'd prefer to be left alone."
A long sigh passed Levy's lips. "Please, talk to me," she urged quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy's ear, desperation clearly evident in her voice.
Lucy pondered, a bit torn by Levy's request. She didn't want to talk to anyone - not about what had happened or the mindless chit chat that avoided the elephant in the room. But Levy had always been there for Lucy in her own reticent ways; a new book offered, a gentle squeeze of the hand, an encouraging smile. Her support and friendship with Lucy was something incredibly special, and the celestial wizard knew she had taken it for granted over the time they had known each other.
Even though Lucy had been a part of Team Natsu and Levy had already been swept up with Team Shadowgear - with a reluctant Gajeel tagging along occasionally - the two women had shared a sisterhood with one another, driven by their love for published literature. Their friendship was quiet and often tangential, something indulged during the quieter moments of their lives, but no less important.
Which was why Lucy finally muttered in a voice nearly too soft to hear, "I'm cold."
Levy's eyebrows raised with surprise, probably not expecting an answer at all. "What's that?"
Lucy swallowed thickly. "I'm so cold, but I-I can't seem to warm up."
The solid-script mage's expression fell, heart aching, as her mind worked through why Lucy couldn't get warm. Even though the thermostat had been cranked up to something a tad bit too warm for being comfortable, another reason came to mind.
Natsu wasn't there.
Not only did he spit literal fire, his raging spirit could warm anyone from the inside out. His incredible ability to strengthen the most victimized hearts had been beyond comparison. The way he left - abruptly and viciously - made those closest to him feel empty, a wintry wind howling where he once stood, in a place that now only consisted of dark vacancy.
Levy suddenly stood, a flash of determination in her eyes as she began moving about the apartment. Lucy watched curiously as the bluenette worked to start a fire in the hearth, sending a low light through the room, and then disappeared into the kitchen.
Lucy's eyes strayed to where the fire sent a dancing glow throughout the room, until she became fixated on the flames themselves. An element that could grant natural comfort by its warmth, but could also be devastatingly beautiful as it burned entire forests to the ground. It could ignite the night and outshine the stars, brilliant and captivating and everything she didn't realize she needed. Not until it was wielded by a man who matched its energy with his own spirit, as if they were one in the same.
"I'm all fired up!"
Natsu's voice echoed in her memories, ribbons of light igniting his being as he fought with vigor and resolution. He had a grin that embodied the inferno within him, and set light to her life like the sun. Lucy had somehow been swept up in his gravity, allowing him to pull her close to the point of her not knowing what she would do if he was gone. But then he was, leaving her cold and grasping at empty air, as if she could somehow rekindle that radiance.
Levy returned then with a tray consisting of a tea kettle and cups. After setting it on the table, she moved to the linen closet and pulled down Lucy's heavy comforters she often saved for winter, sprawling the quilts in a pile on the floor in front of the fireplace. Lucy watched her curiously before Levy came to stand at her bedside.
"Come on, Lu," she prodded softly, pulling the blanket off of Lucy despite the blonde's meager protests. "Let's get you warmed up."
Lucy scowled at her friend but begrudgingly complied, letting Levy tug on her hand and lead her to where the pile of blankets awaited them. After fluffing the blankets just-so, Levy and Lucy sat down beside each other with their legs crossed. Levy chose a specifically large and feathery-down blanket to wrap around both of their shoulders, before pouring two cups of tea and handing one to Lucy.
With a gentle prodding notion from Levy, Lucy took a small sip of the tea. It had a touch of spiciness to it, coupled with gentle notes of apple with a mellow, honey-like sweetness. The tea warmed Lucy from the inside out, and allowed her thoughts to settle for the first time in a while.
"Better?" Levy asked with a small smile, tilting her head as she gazed at the blonde with anticipation. "It's ginger and chamomile tea - to calm the stomach and the nerves."
The celestial wizard didn't answer, her gaze transfixed on the flames as they curled and swayed. She couldn't remember the last time she had started a fire in her hearth. Whenever it had been a cool night in Magnolia, Natsu had always been close by, offering his own fire or his body heat to keep away the chill. He had always been there without question, even if he wasn't invited.
Natsu was there to break into her apartment with no regard to her privacy. He was there to listen to her complain as they trudged through the snows of Mount Hakobe. He was there to rescue her from Phantom Lord as she helplessly fell from the sky like a shooting star. And he was there in the small moments, telling her it would all be okay during the dragon strike on Tenrou Island, walking wordlessly beside her after she found out her dad had died while they were in stasis, and giving her courage as she was bested during the Grand Magic Games.
The fire dragon slayer was always there.
"It was a second."
"What?" Levy raised her brows in surprise as Lucy spoke, turning her gaze to look at the celestial wizard, whose expression remained far too distant. Lucy wasn't in her apartment anymore, instead being swallowed up by the memories that tormented her every waking thought.
Lucy swallowed thickly. "Maybe less than a second," she murmured. "But it changed everything."
Levy watched her carefully as Lucy pulled her gaze from the flames to the steam curling away from her tea. The blonde tugged the blanket around her shoulder tighter, fingers curling into the soft material. She didn't want to talk about it, to replay the night that stole so much from them. But Levy was persistent, and Aquarius had pressed Lucy to speak about it with someone.
She took a deep breath, and then, "Natsu sensed the explosion before it happened," she murmured. "I just remember him shouting and then throwing me to the ground. Then there was a surge of heat and a gust of wind that brought debris. Over and over again. By the time we were able to lift our heads and figure out what was happening, half the town was already gone."
Lucy felt her throat tighten, her chest beginning to burn as she repressed the sobs that wanted to force their way out. Tears obscured the reflection of the dancing flames off her cup, the warmth of her tea and the fire keeping her grounded. She could distinctly recall during the battle how her body jarred with every blow, how the pain seared through her skin, and took away every feeling of safety she ever had. Wind had sucked the air from her lungs, the scream from her lips, as each strike against her brought her closer to blacking out - or to death, she hadn't been sure.
There had been so much shouting, voices rising in pitch with each parried burst of magic. Natsu's dragon lungs expelled ear-piercing roars of indignation. Erza's swords clashed against her enemy, discharging sparks through the air. Gray's ice creations cooled the atmosphere while simultaneously reflecting the light of the moon before it was swallowed up by tendrils of smoke.
And Happy - courageous, smart-mouthed, blue-bird of happiness - had stayed by Natsu's side, helping him to dip and dodge through the various attacks before he was ultimately shot from the sky.
Lucy couldn't remember the final blow that caused her to lose consciousness. Everything had happened so fast, and all she could recall was the incredible drain on her energy. She wasn't even sure if the demons had been the one to strike her down or if it had simply been the depletion of her celestial magic.
Levy stayed quiet after Lucy's admission. Lucy wasn't sure if it was because she was waiting for more, or if it was because she was surprised Lucy had divulged anything at all. Either way, Lucy silently thanked the solid-script mage, because she wasn't sure if she would be able to handle any questioning that encompassed that night.
Lucy shook her head, trying to shake the feeling of dread that had creeped over her as she recalled the battle, followed up with her holding a dying Natsu. His skin which had always been so warm to the touch had turned frigid, blood staining the scarf he loved so much that now sat hidden in a box on her desk. The dragon slayer had smiled despite his wounds, despite his impending death, telling her he was sorry. With his last breaths he apologized for making her cry. It was such a silly thing to be saying at such a time, because it had been the last thing on Lucy's mind. Although it felt like minutes passed as she watched him die, she was sure it was seconds. But she began to think, how long had he been dying before she regained consciousness? How long had he laid there mortally wounded, staring up into the blood-streaked sky as he slowly bled to death? If she had regained consciousness even just a minute sooner, could she have saved him?
"We'll bring them home, Lucy."
Words spoken that had eased her fears and denial for a moment, long enough for her to succumb to the darkness of her subconscious, trusting that Loke would do as he said. Wryly, she realized he never actually promised to save them. They were already dead, beyond the realms of even Wendy's magic. So he did the only thing he could at the time: promise his wizard that they would be brought home. He never promised they would be breathing. Perhaps a part of her resented him for that, for toying with her emotions that day. But she knew that he didn't have much else of a choice.
Loke was the Leader of the Zodiac, a battle spirit, meant to make swift decisions in the heat of a fight. He wasn't one to coddle like Capricorn, who gently instructed her on expanding her magic abilities, or comfort like Aries, who hated to hurt even a fly. Yet, Lucy supposed perhaps that's why she loved Loke so dearly. He did what had to be done. Even if that meant lying to his key holder to make sure she survived, or pulling her away from where Natsu had died.
Finally, with a shake of her head, Lucy followed up with, "He found us."
Levy furrowed her brows. "Who?"
"Loke." There was a lump in Lucy's throat and a fire in her lungs. Navigating through the memories was one thing - or rather, keeping her distance from them. Speaking about that night aloud to anyone had panic seizing her stomach. If it weren't for the ginger in the tea, she was sure she'd have her face pressed against cool porcelain again. She swallowed thickly. "Natsu was gone, and I…" Her breath caught as a tear fell down her cheek. "I was sitting in a pool of his blood, hugging his body as if he was still in there somewhere. That's how Loke found us."
Levy's eyes were shimmering, her lip trembling as if to stave off shedding tears herself. "Lu…" she croaked, voice thick with emotion.
Lucy held up her hand and gazed at her palm, remembering how her partner had died. "Natsu's mouth was filled with blood, but he still smiled through it."
"Dear Mavis," Levy murmured, a hand covering her mouth reflexively, wide eyes gazing at the celestial blonde. She knew Lucy had witnessed something horrific, but to hear it spelled out gave her grief an entirely tangible existence.
"I'm tired," Lucy lamented, shoulders sagging. "I'm so tired. I thought I just needed a few night's sleep, but it's so much more than that." She paused as another tear slipped from her eye. "I dream about him - all of them - of that day. I wake up screaming in the night, shaking and sick to my stomach, so now I'm afraid. I'm scared to fall asleep knowing their ghosts are there."
Natsu had become a specter and he was everywhere, rippling in her chest, swinging from rib to rib and cackling with depraved joy. His loud absence became the white noise in her ears, weighing on her thoughts, making them so heavy she couldn't lift her head. She felt as if every last ounce of courage she carried had gone up in smoke the night Natsu died. Disappeared. Vanished into thin air and she was left looking at the corpse of the person she once was. She felt lost, like she was wading through a hellish sort of hangover.
How could she convey all of that to Levy to help her understand? Or to Loke and Virgo, who continued to pester her to get up every day? Grief had swept her so far away from what she knew as normal, how could she ever find her way back?
Levy suddenly leaned against Lucy's shoulder and held her hand, entwining their fingers. "Listen to me, Lucy," she said, her words holding power that wouldn't yield under frivolous excuses. "We're going to get through this together, okay? There are so many people who care for you, who worry about you. I know it's going to take a lot of time. Something like this…" She tightened her hand around Lucy's. "It doesn't just simply go away. But…" Another pause, as if to solidify her own belief. "We're going to be okay."
Tears were falling a little more quickly now down Lucy's cheeks as she sniffled. "How can you be so sure?" she whispered brokenly. "How can you be so sure we'll survive this?"
Levy hummed and took a sip from her tea, mulling over the question posed to her. "You need to take a bath."
Lucy balked, leaning away to glare at Levy with accusing eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The bluenette chuckled. "Just trust me on this one, okay?"
Although always adoring bath time, the prospect of running a bath and cleansing herself of the day seemed like it would take so much energy to accomplish, more than Lucy possessed. But it appeared as if Levy had already realized that, standing from their pile of blankets and disappearing into the bathroom. Only a moment later did Lucy hear the bathtub faucet turn on.
Begrudgingly, when Levy returned with a smile and patient expression, Lucy obeyed. She slipped into the bathroom where a warm tub awaited her. Slowly she undressed and stepped into the bath. Soaking in the heated water, feeling it hug every inch of her skin so gently, breathing in the aroma of the lavender bubbles - it felt heavenly, allowing some semblance of Lucy's inner peace to return.
It was why she had always loved her private bath times. Relaxing into the water allowed her moments to reconnect with her emotions, to ask herself how she felt deep within, and remove the mask she wore during the day. The water wrapped around her like a cocoon, the butterfly of her soul newly energized, and allowed for quiet contentment that required self-love and self-respect.
Lucy felt drained after sharing with Levy some of the details of that day. Even that little conversation had completely wiped her out, but she still felt a pressure in her chest, her stomach coiling with tension. She rested an arm over her eyes, clenching her jaw as the burn of tears surfaced.
Suddenly, she felt a slight pull on her magic and could sense Aquarius had appeared in the tub. Twice in one week - a new record for the mermaid spirit who stated she despised bath time. Lucy frowned. "What are you doing here?" she asked solemnly, not bothering to lift her arm to peer at her.
"Hey, brat," Aquarius greeted, the annoyance clear in her tone. "You need to pull yourself together. My key isn't meant to just sit around and get dusty."
Lucy sighed. "Not right now."
Aquarius shifted in the water and a moment passed before she followed up with, "Look, Lucy. People say you should never look back because you're not going that way. What they never explain is just how hard that's going to be. Nor do they mention how easy it is to get lost along the way. At times, it'll feel like you're no longer moving forward. Sometimes it may even seem impossible to move on, but you will. Somehow you always do."
Images spun through Lucy's mind, of her mother who died too young, of Michelle who had been such a dear friend, and of her father who she never even got to say goodbye to. Aquarius had always been constantly - albeit reluctantly - at her side. She had seen Lucy through her grief before.
"I-I don't know," Lucy replied, her lips trembling. "I-I can't."
A hand gently pulled Lucy's arm from her face and she was suddenly looking up at Aquarius, the mermaid's expression twisted into concern. "Have a good cry," she murmured. "If stormy weather unleashes raindrops, a stormy soul deserves to let loose a few teardrops."
With those words, Lucy could no longer keep the tears at bay. She threw herself at Aquarius, wrapped her arms around her waist and broke down crying. Her shrill cries of heartache echoed off the bathroom walls as Aquarius hesitantly pulled her into her arms, running her fingers through golden-spun hair.
"Just-" she paused, a tender smile tugging at her lips. "Don't get any of your snot on me."
It wasn't until the bath water had cooled to a luke-warm temperature did Lucy finally remove herself from Aquarius' embrace. She sniffled, being berated by the mermaid for getting snot on her, but there was no heat behind her words. After Aquarius had disappeared back to the celestial realm, Lucy finished up her bath with a quick wash of her hair and drained the tub.
She dressed into her pajamas slowly. For the first time in a while she felt a sort of emptiness in her soul that was comforting, as if crying all of her tears had cleansed her. Although drained of liveliness, her shoulders felt a little lighter than they had in over a week.
Lucy exited the bathroom and found the room covered in darkness, the fire having been extinguished. Levy had tucked herself into Lucy's bed nearest to the window. She wore a pair of Lucy's pajamas, a little too large for her small frame.
"What're you doing?" Lucy asked as she stepped closer to the bed.
Levy smiled, lifting the covers and patting the space beside her. "We haven't had a sleepover in ages."
The thought brought a smile to Lucy's lips. She obliged and slipped under the covers beside Levy, resting her head on the pillow and breathing in the scent of rosemary and pine of her laundry detergent.
Once settled, the solid-script mage took her hand and held it firmly. "Now, close your eyes," she instructed.
Lucy stopped questioning her friend's motives and simply did as she was told.
"Notice the silence."
Nothing but their steady breathing permeated the air. The city had gone to sleep, leaving her room free of the muffled conversations and noises from the outside world. Even her apartment neighbors had stilled, as if understanding the circumstances happening within her four walls.
Levy pressed a hand against Lucy's chest. "Notice your heart," she murmured, and Lucy did, feeling its steady beat that resonated in her ears. "Still beating. Still fighting."
Lucy slowly opened her eyes and looked at Levy, who she could barely see save for the soft glow of twilight peeking through the bottom of her curtains.
The bluenette smiled gently, her gaze soft. "You made it," she reminded, her hand tightening around her own. "You made it another day. And you can make it one more. You're doing just fine."
Her words were gently whispered, but held so much more than thoughtless notions. Lucy felt her struggles were seen. That her vociferous emotions mattered. Somewhere beyond this sea of darkness was the shore, and Levy would help her get there - Fairy Tail would help her get there.
The celestial mage had been broken, so irreparably that the pieces would never fit the same way again. They all had been. Walking the path before them now felt rocky and unexplored, as if one wrong step would have them careening over a cliffside. Yet, the moments with those who she held dear - Loke on the rooftop under the stars, Levy curled beside her with whispered reassurances - somehow made the trail seem a little less daunting.
Even without Natsu, Erza, and Happy to pull them forward with words of inspiration and encouragement, their spirits still lived within the heart of their guild. They were gone, but their memories would carry on in all of those who held them dear. And that's what would push them through this.
Lucy smiled then and rested her forehead against Levy's, unable to exactly convey her gratitude. "Thanks, Levy," hardly seemed enough, but it would have to do for now.