Porlyusica was finishing the recalibrations on the heart monitor while Gray and Loren waited. It had been a task for Natsu and Erza to move all this equipment into Gray's house this morning; but given how he still had some issues with his heart, Porlyusica had insisted on medical observation during this session after a lengthy discussion of what it would entail. She didn't put a great deal of stock in this unfamiliar form of therapy, considering how few have actually gone through it compared to other, more traditional treatments. Loren was more than understanding, and was willing to accommodate any requirements they had, so long as Gray was fully on board. One of his conditions was to be able to do this in the privacy of his own home.
The old healer was the only one present with them for this first session. Loren had stressed the importance of eliminating all distractions, as well as the need to ensure Gray's comfort during vulnerable moments. Lyon had taken Joy to the guild, and would return as soon as he was called back home.
Loren was rechecking some notes, flipping through several pages, and adding a few phrases and ideas he'd like to try, based on past conversations with Gray and his friends. Periodically, he'd look up to observe his charge. Gray's eyes never left him, constantly focused on whatever he was doing, seemingly unaware of the goings on around him, not even as Porlyusica was applying the final electrode over his heart, right next to the surgical scar. He'd thought there'd be some timidity over having that scar exposed, but Gray never lost focus on him. It was almost unnerving.
"I'm flattered by your scrutiny, but I'm afraid I must inform you that I'm a happily married man."
Gray blinked, realizing he'd been staring again.
"Sorry. That happens sometimes. I don't know what it is, but I get drawn into something so strongly, it's hard to pull away without some prodding."
"There are probably many factors involved, but it's not unheard of for the newly sighted to share similar experiences. You needn't be concerned. I'm sure your healers are on top of what's going on physically. Let's focus on why we're here today. In fact, your hyperfocus may prove beneficial in this exercise. Do you have any questions about anything we've gone over so far?"
"Just to clarify, you're not gonna make me go into great detail of what happened?"
"Not for this session, no. Lyon's told me much of what you've already told him and your friends. I do want to encourage you to continue to go to them whenever you have something heavy on your mind. For now, try to recall what you said to me a few days ago, about your fear of losing control. You're constantly afraid of the consequences of suffering future episodes, not the actual episodes themselves. Today, I want you to focus more on controlling your responses to them."
"I can't control how I feel."
"No one really can, no matter how put together they may seem. There's no shame in that. I also understand how you have little control over your reactions to those feelings. That's what I want to work on today. You can't help the fear, sadness, or anger you justifiably feel towards what happened, but with time and effort, you can train yourself to respond differently to those emotions."
"Will it stop the panic attacks?"
"You will hopefully discover new ways to cope with them, and perhaps lessen the effects of your various triggers. I'm afraid they may never go away completely, but like I said, their intensity may lessen, and you will gain some control over how you respond to them."
Control. The loss of which had been, and still is, the greatest source of grief, the widest chasm which had proven most difficult to bridge. His greatest desire has been to regain that sense of control which had been lost to him the moment he'd realized he was powerless to prevent his capture from this very room. From that very moment, his life has been in a spiral, twisting and pulling him into every which way, giving and taking by no one's leave. He's regained some of that control back, in many different things, and in various ways. He didn't feel selfish in wanting more.
"So all I have to do is follow that glow stick," Gray asked dubiously, eying the small stick Loren had bent until a small crack was heard. He'd decided to use glow sticks instead of a brighter pen light due to Gray's still lingering photosensitivity, shaking it, as he answered.
"That's correct. As you recall the memories you're prompted, I want you to maintain focus on just the light as I move it from left to right and back again. Don't delve too deeply into the memory. While following the light, I want you to hold onto the emotions the memory evokes. Concentrate on your response to those emotions, and remember: All that happened is in the past. Follow the light, and let it remind you that you are here, in the present. Are you ready?"
"… Baa-san?"
"Everything is prepared. I'll be keeping an eye on your stress levels. The monitor's volume is at its lowest setting, so the beeping shouldn't bother you. If your heart rate climbs too high, I'll intervene."
He gave a short nod, though neither could tell how confident he felt about the prospect of purposely inducing a panic episode.
"Okay," Loren began, "I'm going to start with a trauma which I hope is minor compared to the others, but you'll be the ultimate judge of that." He paused, meeting Gray's eye's meaningfully, intending to catch his immediate response when he continued with, "I want to talk about your hands."
Gray fisted those hands, shock and anger clear on his face as he fought the urge to look down.
"There's nothing minor about what happened to them," he seethed.
"A poor choice of words. I apologize. Please calm down and listen to my reasoning. I understand how important one's hands are to any person, especially for a maker mage. There is no belittling intended. However, I couldn't help but to notice you've taken to covering them now."
Gray listened intently, though this line of reasoning was not cooling his anger at all.
"I think it safe to assume that decision stems from the recent return of your sight, yes? You're afraid and ashamed to look at them, I wager. You wish to prevent a repeat of the first time you saw them. I don't blame you, and there's no harm in that, if it's what you need.
"I wanted to start with them because it was your sacrificing of them which began your defiance towards your captor."
"I didn't f*cking sacrifice them! They were taken from me!"
"They were. No one denies that. But the fact that you cover them now tells me you've yet to accept what happened to them; that you've not processed everything that happened before and immediately after that particular ordeal."
"Maybe because I was too busy getting pan-seared to notice I couldn't feel my hands anymore!"
"I'll end this right now if you don't calm down," Porlyusica firmly cut in, "And you, Mr. Bradley, need to get this so-called treatment underway, so maybe he'll better understand what you're trying to accomplish, instead of riling him up."
"Of course. Again, I apologize for starting us off so provocatively. I'm afraid it only gets more intense from here on out. If you want to back down—"
"—No way in Hell do I turn away after coming this far."
Loren had to smile at the stubborn tenacity he's always admired in this particular patient.
"Very well." He raised the small glowing stick, which emitted a soft blue glow—chosen over the red ones for obvious reasons, given the memories they were about to explore—holding it to Gray's eye level, and began.
"I want you to recall the chains you held onto."
Gray's eyes widened just a little bit, but a slight shake of the glow stick drew his focus to his left, so he forced a deep breath in and out and did as told.
Chains hung from the ceiling in rows, perhaps to hold racks of something? Passing his light along the wall, he came upon a tight seam. The exit? There were no hinges on this side, and no door knob. Testing it, he found it solid and immovable.
"There was no handle. The door was solid. There was no way out."
"The chains, Gray. Picture only the chains. What do you feel when you think about them?"
"… In order to erase that vile magic from your body, you're going to use your powers until you have just barely enough to survive. We wouldn't want you to die now, would we?"
Loren saw how Gray's eyes were trying to shift around, as they often did when he was trapped within the throes of a panic attack.
"Focus! Follow the light."
He remembered the small round room, chains hanging from the ceiling. Other than that, utter darkness. That, and that dry heat coming from the floor.
As the blue light slowly glided across his vision, Gray followed it instinctively, now unwilling to pull away as he remembered.
His eyes landed on the many chains hanging overhead.
"Gray, how do the chains make you feel?"
… Releasing his magic, he leapt and brought his hands close… In less than a second, he froze the chains just as he grasped them, feeling a harsh bite of pain as the still lingering heat burnt his flesh, which left him as soon as the cold took over.
His knuckles were ghost white, but his eyes never left the light as he answered.
"Powerless."
ooooo
Asuka giggled as she watched her hat skid across the table, powered by a little engine named Joy. The curious cat followed the sounds of Asuka's tapping hands across the table top, engaged in a challenging game of tag with her favorite tiny human. Bisca looked on in amusement, every so often adding her own taps to the game.
From a nearby table, Lucy watched their play, smiling at the thought of how Gray's cat certainly lived up to her name. She turned her gaze back to Natsu, seated next to her as he tried to comprehend all the details Lyon and Wendy were trying to share. Across from them sat Erza and Juvia, the latter of the two hoping she'd have a chance to say goodbye to everyone, especially Gray, before she was to leave with the rest of her team that afternoon to continue with their mission.
"Juvia still doesn't understand the purpose of the light. They're not trying to hypnotize him, are they?"
She posed a good question, something Lucy had wondered about as well.
"Hypnotism is a completely different process," said Wendy, "The way I understand it, the whole idea of following the light is to give Gray full control over something outside of his memories, something to hold onto as he recalls what happened."
"Why couldn't Loren-san give him some other task? If this treatment is so reliable, it seems like something Gray could have benefited from sooner. Why put it off until he could see again?" wondered Erza.
"The task had to be something sensory related. The theory goes that focusing on some kind of stimuli while recalling a traumatic event would help him separate the past memory from his present reality. Loren-san believes he's never had a chance to fully come to terms with what happened. Revisiting those memories in a more controlled manner, instead of being forced to relive them through flashbacks, may help him cope with them more."
"So why'd we wait so long? Why did it have to be sight? We couldn't make a bunch of sounds or touch him instead? Would have saved a lot of grief if he could have dealt with all this crap a long time ago," reasoned Natsu.
"I felt the same way," said Lyon, "but you've seen how he reacts to unexpected touches or sounds. Can you imagine having him remember his time in the chamber while having to endure random noises from out of nowhere, or being touched sporadically? He'd jump right out of his skin if we forced him through that."
"There's another reason for the light," continued Wendy, "Do you remember during some of his more scary episodes, he'd move his eyes all over, like he was trying to locate whatever was threatening him?"
At several answering nods, she explained, "Loren believes that may have been involuntary, since Gray would have been too deep in his delusions to remember he couldn't even see. Now that he can, the light gives him something to focus on, and allows him the ability to move his eyes voluntarily. I know it doesn't seem like much, but for Gray, who feels he's lost so much control over his life, that little bit of freedom becomes a big deal. If he can control just one thing during his attacks, that'll keep him grounded in the present, and he'll realize it's within his power to control other things as well, like his reactions. Once he's able to do that, it'll be easier for him to face everything he's gone through, and he'll be better able to move forward."
"I just hope making him relive that crap over and over again doesn't screw up his head more than it already is," grumbled Natsu.
"Let's not think that way," Lucy encouraged, "I, for one, choose to believe it'll all work out in the end. He has gotten better. You've seen how more engaging and determined he's been. He's more outgoing, and eager to try new things. He doesn't shy away from us girls as much as he used to, and he's a lot more confident now. I know he's gotten stronger, too. I've seen him take you down a couple of times, Natsu."
"Big deal. That's not hard when I'm not allowed to hit back!"
"Really? How many times have I punished you for attacking when you're only supposed to defend?" Erza reminded him.
"He still put you in your place really quick!" Happy cheered.
"I was holding back," Natsu defended.
"You were underestimating him," grinned Lyon, ever proud of how far Gray's come.
"See if I do that again now that things have changed," Natsu smiled back excitedly.
"Don't be too eager," warned Wendy, "He still needs to ease into using his powers for combat again. I don't want you two going at each other with full powers, only to have his suddenly cut off mid attack."
The smile on Natsu's face never left, but Lucy could tell right away how strained it was, how he tried to maintain a cheerful, devil-may-care facade.
"No worries, Wendy. I'll start off easy on him. A good bare-knuckled brawl is more our style anyway."
Everyone else took his word at face value, laughing along with him, but Lucy knew Natsu still held reservations concerning his own powers. She wasn't even sure he'd be willing to use his powers in a spar against Gray, and there's no telling how Gray would feel about the idea. She would have to pull Natsu aside to see if he'd want to talk about it later.
"Juvia, you've been quiet."
At Erza's words, Lucy looked towards the water mage, seeing another fake smile. What was it about her friends, always having to hide their trepidations from everyone? What did it say about herself, having gotten so good at discerning those masks they all wore?
"It's nothing. Juvia was just… it's not important."
"Nonsense. If something troubles you, it's better to work it out now before leaving for your mission, where it would lay heavy on you as you worked. Distractions are dangerous on the field. It's better to release your concerns now."
Seeing the encouraging looks from all her friends, Juvia relented, saying, "Juvia is just trying not to show her disappointment in her failure to see what seems so obvious to all of you. I'm grateful you were all able to be here for Gray-sama You all say he's improved so much, but Juvia wasn't here to see. To me, he's so far from how he was, before he was taken; but at the same time, I see who he used to be in small glimpses here and there. I just wish I could have been here for him, to help him heal. I wish I could have seen for myself how he's progressed from day one, instead of the few updates we received every week from Levy.
"But… I'm also grateful I never got to see him when… Master was wise to keep me away. I can't bear to imagine how he was when he was found, and my heart grows sick at the mere mention of how he'd suffered. I've had to excuse myself from the room whenever Gajeel-kun and Panther Lily brought up anything from the mission to rescue him, or from their original investigation. Now I feel guilty for how relieved I am to be returning to the north. I was so happy to see Gray-sama again, and I enjoyed the time I spent with him, but it saddens me to see him struggle so much still. I'm so angry at myself for being unable to help him, for not being here for him like you were—"
"—You're wrong," Lyon soothed as he took her hand in sympathy, "You've worked tirelessly these last few months, trying to track down a deranged killer, one who's shown no regard for human life, and who's threatened Gray's life, for reasons still unknown. You're on the front lines trying to protect him from a danger we didn't even know existed until it was almost too late. You're keeping him safe, and trying to put an end to whatever danger he's in. We're the ones who are grateful."
"Hell yeah," Natsu agreed, " I wish like Hell I could find the bastard myself and end this crap already, but we're all-hands-on-deck trying to keep Gray safe here. What you're doing out there is just as important. The sooner you find that guy, the sooner we can all put this mess behind us."
"Then we can all finally relax and let things go back to normal. Well, as normal as things are for us, anyway," said Lucy.
"Indeed. And as we look forward to that day, we shall keep our word from before, and help Gray train his mind and body for when he can return to his previous life, as much as he is able too," affirmed Erza.
Seeing the resolved looks on everyone's faces encouraged Juvia, and filled her with a new determination. They were right. Everyone had their roles to play. She was needed out there, with her team, putting her all in finding the killer before they'd try to strike again. She had every faith that her friends would do their part in making Gray whole. She would do her part in keeping him that way.
ooooo
Several minutes had passed, and Gray continued to follow the light. As biddened, he did all he could to visualize only the chains in his mind, but it was impossible to leave the kiln behind. He felt trapped, helpless and closed in. He heard vague admonitions to breathe deeply and slowly. What a joke. How could he breathe in this stifling heat?
Pain wracked his body as he tried to adjust his grip. His shoulders and ribs bore the brunt of the strain, and his breathing suffered. His hands had locked up long ago, and his eyes stung from the sweat he could no longer wipe away. He was so tired.
Loren could hear the wood underneath the upholstery creak from how hard Gray was gripping the arms of his chair. He couldn't see the display on the heart monitor from where he sat, and Porlyusica's face always looked stern, so he had no idea how far he could take this before they'd need to stop. He'd just have to believe in her judgement, and in Gray's strength of will to get through this, hopefully with a better understanding of what he was capable of.
"Gray, I need you to help me understand. Why do you feel powerless?"
"… My powers are almost gone. I'm so tired. But letting go means death. I don't have a choice. I can't let go."
"They're not gone. Your powers are returning. You're not in the kiln. You're in your home, in Magnolia. Continue to follow the light. Remain here. Let it remind you where you are. You have the power to stay here, with me. You don't have to be where you were. Tell me why you held on to those chains."
"I don't… I… I was scared…"
"Scared of what? Of pain? Of your own death? I don't believe that. I never got the impression those two things held sway over you. Not at all. You proved that to me that day at the plaza, when we were attacked. You never let the prospect of pain or death stop you from defending your friends, including me. Why did you hold on to those chains?"
"I told you! I didn't have a choice!"
"You could have died."
"…"
"You were told repeatedly that your friends would never find you—"
"—Bullshit! My friends would always find me."
"Would they have found you alive? You had every reason to believe your life would end in the hands of your captors. You must have suspected they had the worst intentions for you. You could have ended it quickly, if rather painfully. But it would have ended. As I've said, you don't fear death. Why did you hang on to those chains?"
"Because they were coming for me."
"They were. They poured everything they had into finding you, and bringing you home. You never doubted them. You always believed in them."
"They'd never leave me behind."
"Your faith in them is inspiring. You never doubted they'd come… even if all they'd likely find was your charred, long-dead corpse."
Both Gray and Porlyusica gasped at that, he in shocked dismay, she in unbelief and anger at the cruel words. Looking at the display, she found his pulse creeping up too high for her liking, almost into the danger zone. She frowned, narrowing her gaze, and waved to gain Loren's attention, signaling him to back off before she shut everything down.
Knowing he'd tread too far, Loren lowered his voice, going for a more soothing tone, and tried to steer the conversation into a more neutral area. He wished he could just reveal what Gray needed to understand, but he had to come to the conclusion on his own to fully believe it.
"Gray, I apologize for my harsh words, but you must understand. Even though it was always a possibility they'd find you too late, you always believed in them. Deep down, you must know: Why?"
Instead of answering, Gray's eyes seemed to turn glossy. A quick shake of the light didn't regain his focus, neither did moving it a bit more quickly to the other side.
Meeting Porlyusica's gaze, she shrugged, as if to say it wasn't her problem. She was just there to observe. He turned back to Gray to find him mouthing something, and urged him to speak up. He hadn't lost his voice again, had he?
"… so dark… "
?
That didn't make sense. Even with the curtains drawn, there was enough light cast from the lamp to see by. Was he talking about the kiln? It was his understanding that the whole structure had been glowing red from the heat that day. Checking his watch, already knowing he did so needlessly, Loren still wanted to double check to make sure they hadn't somehow lost several hours, and Gray's sight had gone already. They still had more than enough time to make this session count for something, so he leaned in a little closer and asked, "What do you mean, it's so dark? Where are you right now?"
"… they left me. They said they believed in me, said I could… but they left me to die."
Loren's eyes widened. Had he inadvertently caused Gray's memories to change into a new reality, one in which his friends never came?
"Gray! Where are you?!"
"… I can't let go. It's too far. Too dark. Too deep. I'll fall if I let go. They left me here… left me to die in this dark abyss… They never believed in me…"
"No! Gray, listen to me. Can you see the light? Follow it!"
Loren couldn't understand what was going on. From the worry on his face, Porlyusica was now getting the sense that this was something he hadn't expected, something far from normal. Why was Gray saying these things? In all the time he's used this therapy, he'd never had a patient's memories corrupt themselves. Was he recalling a totally different event? Even so, simply the idea that he'd ever been left behind by his friends seemed ludicrous to him. He just couldn't see that ever happening.
What about this deep, dark abyss he was seeing? Where did he think he was? How would they draw him away, if the light wasn't helping? With how high his stress levels were, he couldn't just abruptly pull him out, not without sending him into shock.
Passing the light slowly across his eyes again, once more receiving no reaction, he considered one possible option. He'd chosen blue for a reason, after all.
Rummaging in his briefcase for the package of glowsticks, he pulled out a red one, cracking it quickly, and shaking it right in front of Gray's face.
"Gray! You're still in the kiln! Remember? Wherever you think you are, it's a lie! You're trapped in the kiln, and you must find your way out. Do you see the light? The red of the walls and the floor? You're not in a dark abyss. You're holding onto the chain, refusing to let go, refusing to surrender until you have nothing left. Follow the light, and find your way out!"
Something in his demeanor changed, and he seemed to become more aware, his eyes zeroing in on the red light. His lips quivered a little, but he forced himself to follow the light, and Loren breathed a quiet sigh as he talked him through whatever that was.
"I know you're confused, and afraid. Porlyusica and I are right here. Focus on the light, and remember where you truly are."
The heat from the chain was spreading into his hands. Mild at first, it very quickly grew in intensity. His hands were burning.
"The chains—"
"—The chains don't matter now. Where are you?"
"I'm… I'm in my home…"
"That's right. You've been here this whole time. The chains and the kiln are long gone."
"I… I held on… I refused to let go… I'm home, because I wouldn't let go. They never left me. They would never have left me… so I wouldn't leave them."
Loren had been ready to forgo the rest of this session and try to salvage what they could while minimizing their losses, but Gray's words made him pause, and left him a bit hopeful. He took advantage of this current thread and pushed on.
"That's right. You're alive right now because you refused to let go. Your friends came for you, even though they had every reason to expect failure, because they never stopped believing in you either."
He bit back a cry as he desperately tried to hang on just a little longer, until the chains began to glow.
"I can still remember how it felt. How the heat grew so quickly, so intensely. How desperately I tried to hold on, until I simply couldn't anymore."
"Through no will of your own, you were forced to let go. What happened then?"
Suddenly, the burning ceased. A stark coldness swept over him, so cold that it seemed to burn in the same intensity as the kiln. But he knew this cold. He recognized this magic. It was his.
"She— It— it was collecting my magic. Siphoning what it could as it left me."
"I remember you telling me that. You said your injuries would have been far worse had there been less power in the lacrima your magic had condensed into. If you hadn't had held on for so long, you very well could have died from the injuries you would have sustained otherwise."
"… You said I sacrificed my hands, that they were the first casualty of my defiance."
"You told me they'd been injured the very first moment you grabbed hold of those chains. You'd already been beaten, your ribs broken, your magic nearly depleted. Even through that pain, you still refused to let go. And when the time came, you held on until the very last moment. You could have let go at any time, and ended your suffering. But you refused to give up on life. You proved to your captors your will to fight, and to defy them, was far stronger than they had anticipated. You proved to your friends they had every reason to believe their mission to rescue you would never have been in vain.
"And you proved to yourself that you weren't completely powerless. You did have a choice. You chose to survive. The will to live is the most important tool in any survival situation. It was your strength, your character, your stubborn tenacity, your love and belief, your anger and defiance, which helped you defeat a merciless foe who thought he'd taken every weapon from you. He was wrong. You weren't completely helpless. You used everything you still had to fight, and you won—and it all began with your refusal to let go."
Loren lowered the glow stick, hiding it from view, and watched as Gray blinked in confusion, then in sudden exhaustion as he slumped forward in his chair, trembling arms resting in his lap. He closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. Porlyusica looked on, gauging his condition from his appearance, then from the heart monitor, before rising to go to the kitchen for whatever reason.
Leaning forward, Loren cleared his throat before asking, "Gray, I know this experience was very trying, and that you want to rest, but would you please open your eyes for a moment?"
He was met with a bleary gaze, but at least he had his attention.
With a soft, encouraging smile, he then asked, "May I take your hand?"
Gray's brow knitted, but he raised a hand, palm facing down, allowing Loren to grasp it firmly, knowing he did so in an offer of support. It took him a confused moment to realize Loren was trying to pull his glove off. He jerked his hand, but stilled, forcing himself to not pull away. Loren smiled at the trust he was showing, then removed the glove.
After a pregnant pause, with Gray staring resolutely at Loren's face, unwilling to look any lower, Loren slowly turned his hand, facing the palm up. Gray straightened his posture, reaching his other hand to grasp the arm of his chair, and looked on nervously. He knew what Loren wanted, and denied every instinct currently screaming at him to close his fist and wrench it away, refusing to retreat when he's come this far.
Instilling as much affirmation and confidence into his voice as he could, Loren said, more as an invitation than an order, "Please look at your hand."
Gray's breath hitched, head starting to shake in refusal, but he stilled at Loren's quiet reassurance of, "It's okay. We're right here. You're in control, and you can maintain that control, at least in this one instance. Just as you've discovered how much power you still had in captivity, so also do you have power still, power you need to acknowledge. Look at your hand, and focus on controlling what you feel."
Calming down with each word, Gray felt like something within his spirit was trying to detach, as if something keeping him tethered was losing its hold. The apprehension Loren had perceived was easing away, replaced by a new courage, though there was still some reservation. With a growing sense of determination, Gray closed his eyes and lowered his head, jaw aching at how tightly his teeth gnashed together. Taking in a deep steadying breath, he released it slowly as he opened his eyes, immediately focusing on the source of all this recent trepidation and drama.
Try as he might, he couldn't pull away.
He expected the scarring. When it came to his hands, that was always at the forefront of his mind. That, and the lack of feeling throughout. He expected the discoloration, the swirls and valleys where the pale met tan, and disfigured patches met smooth, healthy skin. He expected the pattern left by the links of that thick chain, the impression he'd only been able to discern if he felt along the skin just right, and his friends—and now he—could only ever see if he held his hand in a certain way. He even expected the deep gouge left from the swordsman's strike, which slashed almost perfectly through the chain pattern.
What he hadn't expected was the ease in which he could look upon it now without the urge to turn away, or to shudder in horror, or to purge his stomach on the floor. That wasn't to say there was no reaction at all. He still choked up, and found himself growing faint. He still struggled to pull in enough air, and his throat was so dry, while his eyes misted and strained.
Through all of this, he could hear a vague whisper, something he barely acknowledged falling from his own lips, a string of words he desperately needed to believe, and was finding it easier to do so.
"…wasn't powerless. I wasn't powerless. I fought, and never yielded. They're battlescars, like all the others."
"That's right," came Loren's soft reply, "You fought with valor, and never gave in. You were left with little to defend yourself, but you weren't completely defenseless. You used whatever you could to defeat your adversary, and you came home the victor. You overcame all of that, and you can overcome all of this pain, and fear, and grief as well. Everything you went through, it happened, and it's over.
"Everything you've gone through since then, all your fears, all your anxieties; every time you've found yourself falling into despair, or suffering through disturbing episodes; are directly related to that brief time you were a prisoner. Even though you were rescued, you've been in crisis mode ever since. Your mind has been wired to believe it's never going to end. I'm telling you now, with utmost confidence, that just as all your troubles had a beginning, so too do they have an end. It may be hard to see now, but this season of troubles will come to an end."
Slowly but surely, Gray's trembling had ceased, and he'd loosened his grip on the armchair, laying his other arm on his lap to bear his weight as he still stared at his hand. He sighed as he lowered it down, now level with the other. Looking at them both now, he considered them together. The glove he wore left his fingers exposed, but if he faced them down, he could barely see the scarring. Turning them both face up, he could see the similarities now, and was disturbed by how morbidly curious he was growing to see how similar they really were.
Before he could bring himself to remove the other glove, Loren laid his own hand over his, the right one, saying, "One step at a time, I think. You worked very hard, and accomplished a great deal today, but every scar you bear tells a different story, and some require their own time to tell."
Surprisingly relieved, Gray nodded, pulling his hands apart, and sitting back in his chair, bone weary and aching all over from all the tension of before. Deep down, he was thanking whatever had given him the discretion to extend his left hand before, unsure how successful that stunt would have been had he been faced with the scars along his right arm. He eyed the glove Loren had placed aside, drawing the man's attention to it.
"You may have it back if you so desire. Being able to look upon the scars isn't the same as being required to. If you feel more comfortable keeping them concealed, it doesn't negate the progress you've made."
He actually smiled at that, giving Loren a quiet, hoarse thank you for being allowed such a simple but much appreciated choice.
His decision.
His control.
His power to choose.
Both of the men turned their heads towards the kitchen to follow Porlyusica's swift approach. She carried something in a small bowl, placing it on a side table, before taking a moment to read the heart monitor one more time. Finding what she read acceptable, she turned off the machine, unhooked the wires, and picked up the bowl. To both Gray's and Loren's amusement, it contained ice cream.
"Something sweet is always good when you need a pick-me-up, and I'm sure you'd prefer something cold. When you're done, you can remove the electrodes from your person yourself. Eat quickly, before it melts. Honestly, who other than a pair of ice mages would keep over a dozen quarts of ice cream at a time?
"I'll be leaving soon. I've already contacted Mr. Vastia. I'm sure your friends will barge in here quite soon, hopefully long after I'm gone. Have some of them bring all this equipment back before the guild closes tonight. Physically, you're fine now, but I want you to rest for the remainder of the morning, and don't do anything too strenuous throughout the afternoon. You can return to your regular activities tomorrow. Mr. Bradley, a word before I go?"
Though phrased as a request, they knew a command when they heard one. Gray hid a snicker behind a spoonful of pistachio almond goodness, sending thoughts towards Loren to the tune of 'she's pissed about something, glad it's not me.'
Following Porlyusica back into the kitchen, Loren was certain he knew what was on her mind.
"I can assure you, what happened out there was an extremely rare occurrence. I was just as shocked by how intense that session had been, and will take more precautions to ensure he has an easier time of it in the future."
"We'll see if there will be a next time, depending on how well he fairs in the coming days. That's not why I wished to speak with you. Tell me about those memories. They weren't at all as I've been told."
"You're referring to his talk of that strange abyss. I too thought it strange how his mind had changed the original story like that. In fact, I don't think it likely for that to be the case. I had assumed he'd confused that memory with a similar one from a previous mission."
"No, that's not the case at all. I've treated every major injury that boy has ever suffered since the day the old coot first dropped the brat's unconscious body onto my doorstep nearly twenty years ago. I was made aware of the circumstances of every single one: How he was injured, where and by whom, what measures were taken to not let him die before he got to me. I may be old, but my memory is very sharp, and I don't recall any incident in which he'd been left dangling over a deep, dark chasm; nor do I believe for a moment any one of his friends had abandoned him to such a fate."
"Perhaps he escaped from that incident unharmed."
"He never escapes unharmed. He's always been a contender for the most reckless of the bunch, and almost thrives off of taking a hit for his team. Makarov may be a fool, but he keeps up with the paperwork which matters to him, including after-mission statements and injury reports, both of which I'm obliged to stay up to date on. He's never been in such a predicament, with or without injury."
"Hmm. If that's truly the case, then I can only surmise his brain really had rewritten his memory for a moment, but it seems to have been made right in the end. It's not entirely impossible for that to be the case, though it is not something I've often seen. I'll keep this in mind for future interactions, and I trust you'll be on the lookout for further instances of false memories?"
"I'll let Wendy know as well. Let's try not to make this a recurring theme to these visits, Mr. Bradley. I've no patience for such drama."
"I'll endeavor to do my best, madam."
"Tsk, here comes the rabble now. At least this house has two exits."
With no further word, she quickly made her escape, before she could be bombarded with pointless questions from so many filthy humans.
Gray was finishing his ice cream when his friends barged through the door, making themselves at home, fussing over him and asking all sorts of questions. Porlyusica may be an antisocial misanthrope, but she knew these kids quite well. Loren wasn't surprised that, even with the small breakthrough he'd had, Gray still chose to continue wearing the gloves. That was certainly his right, and there was no hurry or need to convince him to stop.
Loren watched this group of friends come together, laughing and mingling, being there for each other. He watched as Gray allowed Joy to lick his bowl clean, while Wendy peeled the electrodes off his skin so he could finally button his shirt. He watched in slight perplexity as Natsu stuck those two glow sticks up his nose and chased Lucy around the living room. He heard as Juvia offered to prepare lunch for everyone, accepting Erza's help to finish the task more quickly so everyone could enjoy more time together. He witnessed how Lyon crouched down and whispered what were likely words of praise and encouragement, along with offers to talk about all that had happened later, when it was just the two of them, and all had calmed down.
There was no doubt whatsoever in Loren's mind that they'd always be there for each other, and he would never believe any one of them would ever leave another behind.
My story won for Best Action/Adventure in the Guild Awards! As soon as I figure out a way to celebrate, I'll let you know. I'm thinking another one shot is in the future. Something fluffy and not so dire and angsty as my other stories.
So, a bit more mystery being unveiled. If you think you can guess what's going on, I'd love to hear your theories. Feel free to comment on them.
Next Chapter: Gray adapts to a new training regimen, and Lucy gains some insight into Ice Magic.