Note: A reviewer mentioned that Natsu seemed uncharacteristically calm in the second part, given how he reacts in emotional situations. This is true, and I briefly considered a few different options before settling on what I wrote. I ended up taking the shock and disbelief route for a couple reasons. In part, it's because I do think that it would be super shocking to come back to hear that your best friend has been dead for a year and you didn't even know, so I could see the shock thing happening. The other reason is a kind of "my bad" moment. I wrote this shortly after writing "To Those Left Behind", and I really wasn't in the mood to just write a whole bunch of Natsu angst over Gray dying, because it felt like I was just rehashing "TTLB".
And as you'll see, this part is a little...different.
Fairy Tail really hadn't been taking any chances that someone would accidentally stumble across Gray's grave. Natsu followed Rogue's written instructions, and they led him a good way outside of Magnolia, past the outskirts and into the countryside beyond. He walked for a long time before pausing at the top of a hill. A wooden sign had been planted in the ground a few feet away. It said: "Warning: Do not enter. Dangerous dark magic residue lies ahead. Turn back."
What a godawful way to commemorate Gray's resting place.
Natsu blinked at the ugly sign blankly for a moment before looking out at the valley stretched below him. It had to be the most overgrown valley his friends could find. Brambles and other thorny plants covered the ground and grew over top of each other, creating a huge, spiny mess. Natsu supposed that they acted as an extra deterrent for anyone who ran across this area on accident or was foolish enough to keep going despite the warning sign.
There was a small clear patch at the center of the valley floor, and a small slab of gray stone rose up in the middle of it. Natsu swallowed hard. He could turn back now. He didn't have to do this.
But some part of him asserted that he absolutely had to. He had left Gray to die. This would be a fitting penance. After all, hadn't he insisted that he had to know everything about Gray's death? Sting and Rogue had told him a lot, but if what they had said about the memory trap was true, then Natsu could walk down to that grave and see exactly what had happened. He could experience what Gray had experienced, and he felt like he owed his friend that. If Gray was here then he would probably disagree with that line of reasoning, but he wasn't here, was he?
Everything Natsu had heard about Gray's death had been horrible and painful and dark, so it was natural that he would be apprehensive about experiencing it himself. But…there was still a desperate need smoldering inside him, a need to know. He had to know exactly what fate he had abandoned Gray to. He had to know what Gray had been thinking and feeling. He had to know how Gray had suffered and died. He didn't want to know, but he had to.
So, taking a fortifying breath, Natsu began working his way down the hillside. He fought his way through the vicious snarl of briars and brambles with a great deal of difficulty, welcoming the pain of the thorns that snagged at his skin and drew forth small beads of blood. Such pain was the least he deserved.
He was only a few feet away from the grave when he got confirmation that the Sabertooth mages had been telling him the truth. There was something clawing at the edges of his mind, fighting to take over his senses and show him visions of terrible things. Natsu fought it, gritting his teeth against the foreign feeling.
He had to…had to…
With a grunt he managed to pull himself the last few steps through the thorny vines that were tugging at his clothes and slicing through his skin. The brambles finally let go, and he stumbled and fell to his knees. He found himself staring directly at Gray's tombstone.
And now that he was here, he gave up. He stopped fighting the memories scratching painfully at his soul. Curling into a ball, he let Gray's memories sweep over him.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
His mind continued to scream its warning over and over again, but he didn't have time to take stock of the situation right now. He knew that the curse had done something terrible to him—it was doing something to his mind and body, ripping and tearing at them in a furious frenzy. God, it hurt. But Natsu needed him again, so he had to stand up despite the pain and the sense of wrongness that pervaded his body.
He dragged himself to his feet, staggering as he fought desperately to stay standing instead of toppling right back over. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he looked up at the sky, to see Mard Geer grab on to Natsu as they hurtled towards the ground.
"Gray!" Natsu called.
It was now or never. He summoned up some of his father's magic and formed it into a bow. The demon magic clawed at his insides and he almost lost his focus, but he managed to hurriedly shoot the bow before it disintegrated in his hands.
(Something was terribly wrong.)
He hurt so much that he couldn't feel even a passing sense of satisfaction when Mard Geer was hit by his devil slaying magic and fell to the ground in defeat. Natsu was falling too. For a split second he brushed off his friend's predicament—Natsu was durable and could take a fall—but the speed at which the dragon slayer was falling would ensure that Natsu took a lot of damage on impact.
He had already saved Natsu's life once today—there was no way in hell he'd let his friend get so hurt from something stupid like a fall.
So with a hiss of pain and a flurry of trembling limbs, he lunged forward, forcing his unresponsive legs to propel him towards Natsu. He didn't know how he made it across the crater in time to catch the dragon slayer since he could barely move and was afraid that he'd collapse at any second, but by some miracle, he reached Natsu just in time. The dragon slayer hit him at a tremendous speed, and he was driven to one knee by the force. He grunted in pain at the impact and his arms shook terribly as he fought to support Natsu even though he himself didn't have any strength left.
He hung his head and sucked in ragged breaths, trying to get air past the overpowering pain and exhaustion. It felt like he was suffocating.
(Something was definitely wrong here.)
"Gray…Are you alright?"
He met Natsu's eyes fearfully. No, he wasn't alright. He wasn't alright at all, but he didn't know what was wrong with him either.
"I—I don't—"
'I—I don't know, but something is terribly, terribly wrong.'
But then Zeref appeared out of nowhere and Natsu was distracted. The dragon slayer stood with some difficulty, and he followed suit, feeling no desire to be on his knees in front of the dark mage. His limbs weren't responding properly and his movements were jerky and uncoordinated. He managed to stagger to his feet, but found himself swaying back and forth, his legs trembling with the effort of keeping him upright.
Zeref was talking and destroying Mard Geer, but he paid them little attention. His mind was fuzzy and his senses were dull and seemed to be fading at a rapid rate. He lifted one hand and peered down at it blearily, blinking to clear his hazy vision. His whole hand was trembling violently and he couldn't stop it. It shouldn't be shaking like that. It shouldn't be…
He bit back a pained whimper as his body temperature suddenly spiked. He was used to being cool, but now he was getting terribly hot. It felt like he was burning up from the inside out, and he stifled another moan, not wanting to show weakness in front of Zeref.
And the trembling was getting worse. He tightened all his muscles in an attempt to control the trembling, but all it seemed to do was throw off his balance even more, and he staggered a half-step to the right in a desperate bid to keep from toppling over.
(Something was really, really wrong.)
Physical pain was something he had dealt with many times before, but something was different about this. And it wasn't only the pain. It felt like the curse was trying to hijack his mind as well, clawing at the edges of his awareness and threatening to pull him into darkness. He didn't know what would happen if he gave in to that strange force, but he feared that he would lose himself. It terrified him.
His attention was focused inward on the terrifying changes taking over his body and mind, and he didn't even notice that Zeref had vanished until Natsu turned to look at him again. The dragon slayer opened his mouth to say something, but then Igneel and Acnologia went streaking through the sky above them. There was a loud sound and a great cloud of dust as the dragons crashed into the ground a good distance away.
He saw the fear spread across Natsu's face.
"Igneel…"
He pushed aside his own pain long enough to feel a twinge of sympathy for his friend. Natsu had just now found his father again, and it looked like the dragon slayer might be about to lose Igneel all over again. He could sympathize. He had just lost his father again as well, and he desperately wished that his friend didn't have to feel the same pain.
He expected Natsu to run after Igneel right away, but instead the dragon slayer turned back to him. An indecisive, torn look was plastered on Natsu's face, and he suddenly knew why the dragon slayer hadn't left immediately.
"Go to him," he said, having to work hard to push the words past his shallow breathing and tight throat. His throat was burning up and torn with pain, and it took a monumental effort to form any words at all, especially considering that his teeth had started chattering in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.
"But…Are you alright, Gray?"
No, he was not alright. He was not alright at all. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. He was fighting just to stay standing, to keep some kind of control over the shaking, to keep breathing past the searing pain. He was burning alive, he was suffocating, he was fading. Something was scratching at his mind and trying to take control, and the pain was so terrible that all he wanted to do was pass out so that he didn't have to feel it anymore.
Actually, he might be dying. He realized that that was a very real possibility.
But he couldn't make himself tell Natsu any of that, because if Natsu knew what was happening to him, the dragon slayer would stay here instead of going to Igneel. And if Igneel was dying…He would never forgive himself if Natsu missed the chance to say goodbye to his father because of him. Natsu needed to go make sure that Igneel was okay, or say goodbye if the dragon was not. When Natsu came back he could tell the dragon slayer what was going on, but until then…Natsu couldn't know or the dragon slayer wouldn't leave.
So he straightened himself out as much as he could, clinging to this newfound determination. He clenched his teeth and locked his muscles in an attempt to reduce some of the shaking, and made himself look as okay as he possibly could at this moment.
"I'm fine."
(Something was terribly wrong.)
Natsu still looked uncertain. "But—"
"Go," he insisted, trying to sound more commanding than desperate. It was difficult.
He locked eyes with Natsu and tried to force out any of the pain and fear that lingered in his own gaze. Nodding as decisively as he could, he prayed that Natsu would just go already, before he couldn't keep pretending any longer.
The dragon slayer was looking past him now, but he was too absorbed in his pain to bother turning to see what it was Natsu was looking at. The pain was getting worse and worse, and darkness was eating away at the edges of his vision as the agony threatened to render him unconscious. He longed for the relief unconsciousness would provide, but he couldn't let himself pass out until Natsu was gone, and he was still afraid of what the entity pressing at his mind would do if he fell unconscious. And the terrible burning was getting worse and the tremors were getting even harder to control and his whole body felt as if it had been torn to pieces.
And then Natsu was finally, finally leaving and he almost keeled over in relief right there, but he had to wait until Natsu disappeared in case the dragon slayer looked back. His vision had disintegrated terribly by this point, but he fixed his eyes on a bobbing smudge of bright pink and watched it with an unfocused gaze until it disappeared from sight.
That was when he gave in, because he really, truly, could not fight this anymore. He let go, barely feeling his legs buckle or the impact of his body hitting the ground. Someone was screaming at him, calling out something to him, but reality was fading fast, and he couldn't make out the fuzzy noises. His vision further deteriorated into a mess of washed-out blurs and smears of faded color, but he kept his eyes open anyway. He couldn't see much of anything, but he was too afraid to let the darkness take him—too afraid of that curse fighting him for his mind.
He was dimly aware that his entire body was shaking horribly, and he suddenly began coughing up pools of dark liquid, his whole body heaving with the effort even as his burning throat screamed in protest. There was still that terrible fire clawing at his insides and there was pain everywhere, pulling all of his awareness to it so that he couldn't pay attention to the world around him even if he wanted to. Although he didn't really want to, right now. He didn't care enough. All he knew was pain and it tore at him and ripped him to shreds until he couldn't believe that there was enough of him left to still feel it. And the pain was even worse because he was still feebly fighting at the intrusive force poking at his mind, because he knew that if he gave into it, it would be all over.
It hurt so much and he needed to scream because this pain was tearing him apart, but his throat was raw and coated with blood and wouldn't obey him. He couldn't force anything other than blood out of his mouth past the labored breaths he needed to prevent himself from suffocating. And then his awareness of what was happening to his body began to slowly fade away. He was convulsing, he was freezing, he was burning, he was coughing up blood, he was dying, but all he was aware of now was a nebulous sense of pain frequently disrupted by sharp jolts of agony, and of that invasive curse still trying to rip his mind apart.
It was all pain and there was something terribly, terribly wrong here. His body was rebelling and jerking and bleeding and dying, and it was all he could do to just hang on for a few more moments. And that curse, that sentient thing that wanted to play with his mind and twist his memories and destroy his sense of himself…He had to fight, had to fight because…because…
(Something was terribly wrong.)
It was the curse, the dark thing fighting him. That was what was wrong. It was the curse that was terribly wrong, he realized. The seizures and the blood and the burning were horribly painful, but it was that little piece of black magic eating away at his mind that was truly wrong. And so he fought it, if for no other reason than that it was foreign and wrong and didn't belong here.
And then his vision started to clear and he blinked slowly, his eyes sluggishly moving enough for him to take in the room around him. It was hard to move even his eyes, as if he was forgetting how to control his own body. He couldn't seem to remember how to control his limbs. They seemed almost foreign to him, but that wasn't right, because they belonged there. It was the curse that was wrong.
"Gray! Gray!"
A blonde-haired girl swam in and out of focus as he stared up at her blankly. The girl was saying something, but he was already slipping away again and she disappeared in a haze of blurred colors that soon faded into black.
And then there was only the pain again, for a constant companion, and the curse that he fought tooth and nail, even though he was starting to lose traction in the fight. He didn't know how long it had been before the slimy thing invading his mind finally found a weak point and broke through. One minute it was just pain, and the next the curse was sucking him into memories. Memories that were his. They were, weren't they? But maybe different, because he didn't remember things like this—fuzzy, half-formed things that held a kernel of truth but had lost all the fine detail.
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
He clawed his way out of the maybe-memory, gasping for breath. The air chafed at his raw throat and brought pain with it, but he almost welcomed the pain now, because pain meant that he wasn't dead.
He wasn't dead.
(But something was terribly wrong.)
He really, really wasn't.
He might have died, but he…Well, he was here now, wasn't he? If he was dying now, he couldn't have died then. Or he had. It had been…
Ultear!
How could he have forgotten? Ultear had rewound time and he had managed to avoid death the second time around. And that blue-haired girl had been…Juvia. Yes, that sounded right. And the other screams had belonged to Meredy and Lyon.
He held on to that precious knowledge as tightly as he could, terrified that it would slip out of his fingers at any moment, because the curse was still trying to drag him right back into that twisted almost-memory. And when he fell into the almost-memory, he had lost everything. If he slipped back into it again, he feared that he would lose all the knowledge he had just regained. He would lose the names and the faces and the knowledge that he hadn't died for good.
"Gray?"
He narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing in on the white-haired man sitting beside him. There was something familiar about the voice. The face tugged at his memory too, but it was the voice that seemed the most familiar. Oh, right. The last time he had heard that voice, it had been screaming.
He tried to say Lyon's name, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. It was even worse than last time, as if reliving the not-quite-memory had made him forget how to control his own body. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised—it had made him forget a lot of things. But he had also remembered eventually, so maybe if he kept trying to move…
"I'm so sorry, Gray. Please…You have to get better."
He wanted to wipe away Lyon's tears. The other mage looked so broken, so afraid. It must be because this man was…this man was…
'Brother,' whispered a little voice in his mind. The curse snarled in anger and tried to rip that little piece of knowledge away, but he held on.
This man was his brother, in spirit if not in blood. Yes. He could almost remember this silver-haired boy dancing across his childhood. He could almost remember for a fraction of a second, and then the memories slipped away in a swirling blur of color and faded sound. But the feeling remained, and he wanted to comfort this man he loved like a brother.
He tried to open his mouth and force some words out, but instead his entire body heaved in protest, and he found himself coughing up a thick, dark liquid as he struggled for air. Lyon was grabbing him and shouting for help, but the pain took over again, and he was lost in a haze of dreamlike nothingness once more.
Not really dreamlike, he supposed. It was more like a nightmare.
(Because something was very, very wrong.)
At one point he was almost semi-lucid again. He didn't know how much time had passed, but the pain receded a little and his vision cleared enough for him to make out hazy swathes of color. They were people, he realized. He should know these people.
He didn't know these people.
He panicked.
(Something was terribly wrong.)
How did he know these people? He must know them. They seemed so familiar. They were calling to him.
He gasped in relief, the sharp breath tearing at his raw throat as the knowledge finally started coming back to him in a piecemeal fashion. There was that blonde-haired girl from before—'Lucy', his memories whispered. There was Lyon, a look of terrible grief accentuating the red-rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks. Slowly letting his eyes drift across the room, he could see Erza, Mira, Jii-chan, Cana, Juvia. Was that Loke, over there?
And there—Sting and Rogue? What were Sabertooth mages doing here? A hazy recollection of the twin dragon slayers' fight against their old guild master grudging resurfaced in his mind. They would have been nearby where he and Natsu had fought Mard Geer. He realized suddenly that they must have been what Natsu was looking at, before the fire dragon slayer had left. Then the people who had been screaming for him when he first collapsed…
He wished they would leave. If they were here, it meant that they felt some responsibility for his well-being. Perhaps Natsu had asked them to look out for him. They couldn't help him now, and he didn't want them to feel like they failed. He absently wished that he had bothered getting to know them a little better before this mess. If they had to watch him die, they should at least know who he was.
His eyes drifted on. There were Wendy and Charle over in the corner. Poor Wendy. She looked terrible. He wondered if she had tried healing him. It must not have worked.
A tall, pink-haired lady stepped up beside him, her face lined and troubled. He knew her too. She had one of those really strange names…Porlyusica? She was playing with vials and potions, and he realized that she was trying to keep him alive. He wanted to tell her that it was a losing battle. He didn't think that she was having much of an effect on his health right now.
There were a lot of his friends here. Now would be the perfect time to say something, if only his body would obey him. His coughing subsided and he felt a sudden surge of hope as he felt his muscles finally decide to reluctantly follow his instructions.
But that stab of hope made him lose his concentration in the fight against the memory-curse, and before he could say a word, he was dragged back down again.
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
He fought his way out, his breaths labored and ragged as he managed to win this fight. He would lose the war, but he would win whatever battles he could. There was a reason he had to keep fighting, but he couldn't quite remember what that reason might be. All he knew was that he couldn't give up yet, even if the end result would be the same regardless of what he did.
Because he wasn't dead. He wasn't. Right?
His vision was clearing again, just a little, and although the pain kept up its relentless assault, he almost felt as if he was floating in nothingness. It was a strangely dreamlike quality. Dreamlike? He felt as if he had had that thought before, but the little shred of memory slipped through his fingers.
"Gray?"
He blinked slowly, his eyes travelling the length of the room. There was a white-haired man by his side, leaning over him and peering down at him with a worried and fearful expression just barely tinged with hope. He wanted to ask why this man was asking him about colors. That seemed an odd way to greet someone. He almost wanted to say 'blue' back, just to see the reaction.
But then it hit him. Gray wasn't a color. Gray was his name. His eyes widened slightly in fear. He had forgotten his own name. What else had he forgotten? He desperately ransacked his memory, trying to fit all the shattered pieces back together again.
Lyon. This was Lyon. He knew Lyon. Lyon was bossy and annoying and used ice-make magic like him. Lyon was like a brother. Lyon, Lyon, Lyon, he repeated in his head, afraid that he would forget again.
Lyon turned away to look back at the doorway.
"Porlyusica-san!"
There were shuffling noises and muffled voices from outside the room before a crowd of people suddenly surged in. Gray's eyes darted back and forth, desperately trying to remember these people. He searched for their names and anything he knew about them.
Blonde. Lucy. Celestial spirit mage. Loud and sometimes bossy, but loyal. Wanted to be a writer. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.
Redhead. Erza. Requip mage. Scary as hell, tough as nails, and a great friend. He found a vague, half-formed memory of tears and a riverbank. Shouldn't cry. Erza, Erza, Erza.
He repeated the process for several other people before a tall, pink-haired woman pushed past them and made her way to his bedside. Porlyusica. Grumpy, always talked about hating humans, usually liked keeping everyone out of sickrooms while she worked.
She must be pretty worried about him if she wasn't kicking everyone out now. It didn't seem like a good sign for him.
"What?" she asked sharply.
"I think he's…semi-lucid, maybe," Lyon replied, looking back at him. "Look at his eyes."
Porlyusica bent over to examine him, but his eyes had already drifted away. He felt the desperate need to see everyone in Fairy Tail. He was dying and he knew it, but he wanted to see everyone one last time. His gaze jumped from person to person. A few people were missing, but he could vaguely recall seeing their blurry faces during the other times he had reached a similar state of semi-consciousness. He had to know that they were all okay. He had seen everyone, even Sting and Rogue who weren't Fairy Tail at all—there they were, lurking in a corner, looking lost and out of place—except for one person.
His shallow breathing became more rapid as he frantically searched for the one missing person. Natsu. Where was Natsu?
The pink-haired woman was saying something and fumbling with her potions. She looked a little panicked herself, as she took in the change in his heartrate and breathing. He wanted to tell her to give it up already. Her potions weren't helping him. The only reason he was still alive was because he was fighting the curse digging at his mind. He had to fight until he had seen all of his friends, but Natsu wasn't here. Had something happened? Was the dragon slayer alright? Had Natsu ever even come back at all? He grimaced. He just wanted to see everyone one last time. He needed to know that they were all going to be okay, even if he was not.
And then another surge of panic hit him, because it occurred to him that even if Natsu had not come back yet, the dragon slayer certainly would eventually. And by the time Natsu came back…he would be dead. Oh God, the dragon slayer would be devastated. Everyone would be, of course, but he had a bad feeling that Natsu would be one of the worst off.
Even though he should really be worrying about himself right now—he was dying, after all—he instead found himself worrying about everyone else, because they were all going to be so broken and he didn't want that. He wanted them to be happy, and he didn't want them to remember him like this.
He couldn't make out what the medicine woman was saying because his panicked breathing and heartbeat had begun pushing him into another attack. Things were fading—shapes, colors, sounds, knowledge.
He knew that he was waiting for someone, searching for someone, fighting for someone. He knew that there were people around him, even if he wasn't quite sure who they were. Even if he wasn't quite sure who he was or what they meant to him.
Now it was just the pain again. His back arched as he went into another seizure, and a terrible, suffocating feeling let him know that blood was forcing its way up again. He coughed weakly to expel it, even in the throes of convulsions. He was burning up again and shaking and the pain was everywhere and he could feel himself slipping away, the malicious entity at the fringes of his mind winning dominance once more.
And these people were shouting and trying to hold him down. The pink-haired woman was leaning over him, a terrified look on her face. A sudden flash of knowledge, gone as suddenly as it appeared, warned him that if Porlyusica of all people was terrified, there was something terribly wrong with him.
It meant that he was dying.
And as he accepted his inevitable demise, he was dragged into the darkness again.
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
Not dead, not dead. Time had rewound, time had—
Something malignant whispered into his mind, interrupting his panicked train of thought.
(('What a stupid idea. Time can't rewind. You died. You're dead.'))
He couldn't accept that.
(Something was horribly wrong.)
He was searching for something, looking for something, even though he wasn't quite sure what it was that he so desperately wanted to find. A haze of pink swept across his bleary vision and his heart jumped in happiness. Natsu! He wasn't quite sure who Natsu was, but he thought that might be who he was searching for. But his vision cleared a little to reveal a pink-haired woman, and he instinctively knew that this was not Natsu.
She was saying something to him, but the ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing her properly, and he didn't have much interest in what she had to say anyway. She wasn't who he was looking for. His hopes plunged like a rock and he let himself drift away. He knew that his search was futile.
He began to spasm again and the sticky blood was everywhere and his body was freezing and shaking. Then the heat returned and started eating at his insides again. He opened his mouth to scream, but only blood came out.
"Gray! Gray!"
It was chaos around him and within him, with the shouting, panicked people and the terrible pain. All these people yelling seemingly random things. He didn't know why they were yelling about colors, and he wished they would stop.
Stop, stop, stop.
He didn't know.
(Because something was terribly wrong.)
There were things he should know but he didn't know them, so he slipped away again.
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
(('Dead, dead, dead.'))
There was only the pain. It tore at him and twisted his insides. There was something terrible and dark trying to dig through his mind and reshape his memories. He was supposed to be fighting it. He didn't know why, but he should be fighting. He should be—
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
(('You are dead.'))
He wasn't dead. He wasn't.
Was he?
He wasn't sure he knew anymore. The line between life and death had been blurred and smudged until he no longer knew on which side of it he stood. Was this never-ending nightmare just the last throes of life? Or was this what death really was?
He couldn't say for sure. He wasn't sure he could even tell the difference anymore. Life and death seemed to be such nebulous terms, lacking any real sense of meaning.
He was vaguely aware of fearful shouts coming from blurry patches of color, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what they were or why they were important. All he knew was pain. And he knew that he should be fighting this lingering dark magic, but he was losing the fight and slipping away. There was something he was supposed to be fighting for, but he couldn't remember what it was and it didn't seem terribly important anymore.
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
(('Remember your mortality.'))
It was his friends, he realized with a sudden jolt of clarity. He searched desperately, relieved to see everyone that he almost-remembered. Everyone but one.
But he couldn't really blame Natsu. After all…
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
…He had told Natsu to go. And maybe…
(('Dead.'))
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
…Just maybe…
(('Die.'))
…
He needed to tell her something, this blue-haired girl.
But as he was opening his mouth, he saw one of those beasts rise up behind her—one of those dragon spawn creatures they had been fighting.
And it was going to shoot her while she wasn't looking,
so without thinking,
he pushed her out of the way.
He felt the shot go straight through his chest.
Looking down, he could see the gaping hole there.
He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, watching the
blood
pour
down.
And then there was the screaming—that blue-haired girl and another girl and a man. He looked up to tell them that
it was okay,
but then more dragonlings appeared, and
he could feel the searing pain as they shot him full of holes until
there was nothing left of him.
It was just pain and blood and screaming.
And then there was
one
final
shot
to his head, and everything went
blessedly dark.
…
…It was time for him to go too.
Natsu surfaced with a gasp, and the tears he had been too numb to shed before began streaming down his face as he finally started to sob. The memory was tugging at his mind again, wanting to replay itself. He remembered Sting's warning about how the others had been dragged into it over and over again until they had left the vicinity of the body.
He should get up and go. He had seen what he had come here to see, so now he should go back to find Lucy and Happy and the rest of Fairy Tail. He had promised to go back to them. And he would. Just…maybe not right now.
Natsu curled into an even tighter ball on the hard ground, his back pressed against Gray's gravestone as he cried uncontrollably. Gray was dead. Oh God, Gray was really, truly dead. It had seemed so impossible when the others had told him, but now he had seen it for himself, had felt it for himself, and he finally had to admit that it was true. He was never going to be able to talk to his best friend again. He would never be able to laugh with Gray or fight with Gray or tease Gray. They couldn't go on jobs together or share jokes or play pranks. Gray was gone. Gray was…Gray was just gone. Natsu missed him so much that it felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart should have been.
Natsu had left and not come back, and this had happened. It was terrible and horrible and he didn't want to experience it again. But Gray had had to experience it because he had saved Natsu, and the dragon slayer had repaid him by leaving him behind. So instead of escaping from this haunted ground, Natsu remained curled up on the ground and let the memories sweep over him again and again so that he could relive it all once more. It seemed a fitting punishment for what he had done.
He had left Gray, but for now, even if only for a little while, he would stay.
Note: Poor Gray. Poor Natsu. Poor everyone, really. Because apparently my main goal here was to rip out everyone's hearts and stomp all over them. I guess it's because (as my dear PM buddy always likes to point out) I must be a sadist x.x
Okay, sorry if the consistent use of "he" for Gray got a little confusing, but I tried to temper it with always using other people's names or descriptions, even if it sounded a little awkward. There's a couple reasons I chose to do it that way. You might eventually figure out one of them from the sequel. Also, sorry I had to keep repeating the curse-memory bit, but it seemed more authentic to do it that way, and I figured y'all would be fine just skipping over it after the first time it appeared.
Again, the sequel is posted under the title "Because I Need You to Stay".
emmahoshi: I know I don't usually reply to you directly, because I usually reply to everyone else via PM but I can't do that for you and I feel like replying directly on the story can really clutter up A/N's. But I just wanted to say that you actually kind of amaze me. For one, you're almost always one of the first people to review, even though you shouldn't be getting notifications when I post like some people do (good grief, how do you always know right away when I've posted something? XD) You're always remembering little, seemingly unimportant details from earlier parts of my stories, recalling random things from my A/N's, and even noticing changing word counts. I honestly don't know how you do it. So I just wanted to say thanks for your continued support. I always enjoy reading your reviews. I don't know what I did to deserve such a dedicated reviewer XD (EDIT: Don't apologize x.x If I was a better person then I'd always respond to you in A/N's, especially since I know you always come back eventually to look at things again. To be honest, I like friendship fics a lot more than romance too, and there just aren't enough of them : ( I usually post around 11 p.m. - 1 a.m. my time, because I'm not a morning person at all, ha ha. Glad the timing seems to work out for both of us XD And don't apologize for long reviews - I like reading them, ha ha.)