#this takes place about a year after the fic from yesterday. Gajeel is 14 and Juvia is 13.

[firapolemos05]

@ft-platonicweek Day 4 - Silence

AO3

GET YOUR TISSUES READY, THIS IS SAD

They have only each other to rely on, to find comfort in.

CW: child abuse (mostly psychological, some physical), manipulation, dehumanization, disassociation, reliving past trauma, implied ableism, victim blaming, Jose is a piece of shit

Gajeel whump taglist: @heartonxions , @bambamnesiac , @grayseyebrowscar , @ostensiblyfunctional , @blackberry-bloody

“Easy for you t’say, he always goes easy on ya!”

“And Juvia is sorry about that, but we still cannot leave. There is nowhere for us to go!” 

“Fine! Then you stay! Clean his boots while yer at it! But I'm leavin’!”

Three days it's been since Juvia last saw Gajeel. Three days since their argument.

She'd thought she'd been doing the right thing, trying to convince him not to run away. He'd been angry, nerves frayed after a bad scolding from the master. Anger never made anyone think rationally. But she must have not explained that well since trying had only further aggravated his temper.

Perhaps her fear had also influenced her judgment. Gajeel had been so confident the two of them could make do on their own. Live off of the streets, in the woods like he had done before. Just them, no Master Jose, no rules, no punishments. He thought it'd be a good plan.

Juvia had said no.

The floorboards remained quiet as the girl ascended the staircase. She had long learned which spots would creak and stepped to avoid them. The chatter from the main hall offered somewhat of a cover, but she wasn't taking any chances. She didn't want to be discovered with a bowl clenched in her hands and lose the fresh fruit she swiped from the kitchen. Her friend would be hungry.

Master had given the guild a revised story, she was sure there were details missing or twisted out of context.

‘ “The little brat thought he could run off and neglect his responsibilities. Live in the woods again like some animal. Guess the cold was too much for him to handle, cause all I had to do was wait for him to come crawling back to accept the consequences.” ’

It had been cold that night, and Gajeel hated the cold. Which was why he'd been wearing that thick jacket and scarf when they talked. That should've been enough to keep him warm. If he had returned, as the master claimed, it would've never been for a reason so trivial. 

For as much as he hated the cold, Gajeel hated Master Jose even more.

‘ “I know he tried pressuring you to run away as well, Juvia. You did the right thing not listening, I'm very proud. But next time, you must come tell me. Understood?” ’

The revelation that their argument had been spied on, used as a means to punish, had dropped a rock into her stomach. Master Jose praising her should've made her feel good. No adult had ever told Juvia they were proud of her. It should've been good but instead it only made her feel sick. Master only wanted to use her against Gajeel. To hurt him. She would not do that. He was her friend. 

The door to his room stood tall before her. She raised a hand and gently rapped her knuckles against the wood. “Gajeel, may Juvia come in?” she whispered. 

It was enough for him to hear. Should've been enough. But only the silence met her. She knocked again, repeated her request for entry, just a tad louder. But no answer came, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in her gut while the Bad Thoughts wormed their way into her head.

Was he still mad at her?

Was he angry she didn't go with him?

Did he blame her for him getting caught?

The door thankfully wasn't locked, as she'd feared. The master often locked them in their rooms when they've been bad. Gajeel had a talent for picking them.

Juvia opened the door. 

The bedroom was darker than usual, and when she looked up, part of the window had been recently bricked up. Gajeel's jacket laid on the floor, ripped and torn beyond mending. The scarf tossed aside. His bed looked untouched, empty save for a familiar misshapen bundle of wrappings.

She took a step into the room. “Gajeel?”

Still nothing.

She would've thought the room was empty until a shape caught the edge of her peripheral vision. 

Her friend sat curled up far in the corner, scrunched into a tight ball. Knees clutched against his chest, face buried between them, hidden under unkempt hair. Bundled in a dark gray sweatshirt with the hood pulled up.

“Gajeel? Are you okay?” she asked, walking towards him.

He did not speak, didn't even move, made no sign that he acknowledged her presence. Juvia knelt down next to him. His chest rose and fell slightly, so he was still breathing. But as she listened, the more labored it sounded. Shaky. And even under the warm garment, his figure shook with faint tremors.

He didn't make a sound. Not when Juvia said his name again. Nothing to break the suffocating quiet.

A few times his stomach growled loudly and Juvia asked if he was hungry, told him she brought food. But still he didn't respond. She almost reached out to tap his shoulder but thought better of it.

‘Maybe he's asleep?’

The silence stretched. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty.

Until Juvia thought it might be best to leave. Perhaps Gajeel wanted to be alone, to not be bothered. She placed the bowl down on the floor and rose to her feet, making way to the door.

“...‘Via?”

The voice was so uncharacteristically small and hoarse. She turned around. 

Gajeel's head had lifted just enough for her to see his face.

He looked awful.

A strange ring of bruises dotted his jawline and the bridge of his nose a mottled purple. The scars she always remembered seeing him with looked newly inflamed, as if he'd been scratching at them too much again. Dark circles hung under vacant, bloodshot eyes.

Juvia had never seen Gajeel cry, but now there were telltale streaks of tears down his cheeks.

“What happened?” she couldn't help but ask, even though she already knew part of that answer. What had the master done to him for him to be like this?

Gajeel lowered his gaze again and shook his head. “How long were ya here?”

So he didn't notice when she came in. Did he just realize she was even there? “A little while. Juvia tried talking to you.”

“. . .Oh.”

He didn't elaborate, so neither did she. Though part of her was a bit relieved that he hadn't intentionally been ignoring her. He wasn't mad at her.

“Why were you crying?”

At that, he rubbed his face against the heel of his hand, erasing most of the tear tracks. “I wasn't.”

“Gajeel-”

“‘M fine.”

By the small trembles that shook his figure, Juvia could easily tell the lie. Whatever the master did, it was bad. Not even the cane ever reduced him to such a state. She sighed, defeated. He never did like talking when he got hurt. She tried not to take it personally, even though she always went to him whenever something troubled her. She trusted him to listen and he would. Was he too embarrassed? Did he not trust her? Did he not know he could trust her? Perhaps she should-

“How much did ya hear?”

“Hear? You were very quiet, Juvia didn't hear you say-”

“No, I mean, from when I was . . .not here.”

Oh, he must be referring to what everyone downstairs is saying about him. He could likely hear them from up here. “Master Jose told everyone that you ran away, and that he punished you when you returned.”

He buried his face into his arms again, curling his knees in a little tighter. Once more, the silence swallowed the room for a few minutes. 

“‘M sorry,” he eventually murmured. Before Juvia could question what for, he added, “for gettin’ mad at ya the other day.”

Their argument. She'd nearly forgotten. “Juvia is sorry too. She was scared, of things changing too quickly. She wasn't sure how to explain it at the time.” He seemed to understand that, something she would always be thankful for, someone who understood. As simple as that, they forgave each other. “The thought of being on our own to fend for ourselves is scary, but Juvia wishes things were better here. That people were nicer.”

“Yeah, me too. This dump is full of fuckin' assholes. Yer right though.” The sadness in his admittance worried her. “We can only trust ourselves, no one else. As shitty as this guild is, would any other place be different?”

That was something she hadn’t thought about. Had he planned to find another guild to join? She could see herself doing that, a smaller change that kept to the familiar. But Gajeel did make a good point. Would other guild's treat them any differently than Phantom Lord? No one except her appeared to bat an eye when someone left Master Jose's office with new bruises, so perhaps that was just a normal expectation. Would they even be accepted elsewhere? At least staying in Phantom meant the security of assurance, that they've already earned a place amidst the rankings. No matter the discipline and bullying, they were legal wizards with the various privileges that bought them under the law. 

“Juvia, do- do ya think I'm a monster?”

Her train of thought derailed. “What? No, of course not,” she replied immediately. Why was he asking that? He was human just like she was. Of course he wasn't a- 

Oh, Master Jose probably said something to him. 

“You're not a monster, Gajeel.” Another tear fell, and a cold wave swept through her body as she realized she couldn't tell if he believed her or not. “May Juvia hug you?”

The question clearly caught him off guard, if the surprise in his widened eyes was anything to go by. For the several long seconds he didn't say anything, Juvia almost expected him to refuse. He'd never been too keen on being touched. That's why she always made sure to ask or to let him initiate. But something told her at this moment that he needed to be held.

So when he leaned towards her, ever so slightly, it was all the acceptance she needed, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. A safe touch. He rested his head against hers. 

The two sat embraced in the silence for a long time. 

-

Three nights ago

Even before he climbed out of the window of his room, Gajeel was having second thoughts. By the time the edge of Oak Town was in sight, his heart was fighting him to turn back.

Juvia should be here with him.

They were the Freaks Club, they were supposed to stick together. They should both be going. Ditching Phantom Lord and Jose and taking back their freedom. They could do whatever they wanted, be whatever they wanted. No Jose to force them to fight each other, or lock them in their rooms, or deny them food, or beat them when they did something he didn't like. No obnoxious, creepy adults making fun of how they looked or spoke.

He knew how to survive. And the two of them had powerful magic to protect themselves. They could've made it work.

Why didn't Juvia want to leave?

Sure, Jose didn't hurt her as often as he did the dragon slayer, but she still hated being there, right? All the ridicule she got for causing the rain? For her unusual manner of talking? Did she not want to be rid of that?

With each step his feet felt heavier. Until they refused to go any further.

He didn't want to leave without her, the only person he was willing to consider a friend. He couldn't leave her behind with all those assholes. Couldn't stand the thought of being all alone on the streets again. 

Not after what happened last time.

Gajeel turned around. 

If he returned quickly enough, maybe no one would notice his absence. Juvia wouldn't snitch on him, even if she was mad. It hadn't been that long since he left, Jose wouldn't know.

No one else would know. He would go back. He and Juvia would talk. He would apologize for snapping at her even though he hated saying sorry. Or maybe make her something with one of those recipes she gave him. They'd figure out something else.

No one else would know.

The bushes surrounding the guild hall were easy to hide in. It wasn't like a grand castle, guarded with an array of waiting archers or a moat filled with giant crocodiles. Just a simple building with stone walls that were no trouble for the iron dragon slayer to climb.

The window to his room stood dark up above. He could hear no noise coming from within. Good. That meant his escape wasn't discovered yet. He still had time.

A hope that got dashed about ten feet from the opening, when his nose caught a scent.

‘Fuck!’

He didn't get the chance to think of a new plan. To retreat back down and wait for them to leave. To think of some story to give that may save him. Because the stone beneath him liquefied.

There's not many words that can adequately describe the viscosity of dry rock. Unnatural can be one. Mud and clay at least had moisture to them. Lava was its own thing. Magic was the only thing that could make solid rock look wet and act wet but not actually be wet.

It's not a pleasant feeling having it snatch your body like a giant hand.

Gajeel yelped in alarm as a tendril of stone burst from the wall, seizing his torso and limbs like a constricting snake. Squeezing tight. Allowing no room for resistance against the threat of crushed bones. It didn't even give him a moment to breathe before bolting up, shoving the captured dragon slayer through the window and onto the floor of his own room. But even then, it did not release him yet.

The end of the tendril reshaped, reforming into a body, a face, brown suit, green hair, that stupid monocle.

“Tiens tiens, seems I've caught quite the naughty petit renard, haven't I?”

“Sol, ya creep! Get off me!”

His protests get cut off, for a light suddenly filled the room, revealing two other men. Master Jose stood in the center, face neutral but eyes glaring. Behind him, Aria stood by the door, his wide frame a blockade.

In his mind, Gajeel cursed every god he didn't believe in.

“Care to explain what you were doing out of your room?” the master began interrogating. 

“I-” Fuck, he didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought of a cover story. No need for one if you didn’t mean to return. “I was… just takin’ a walk. I couldn't sleep.”

“A walk, is that so? After curfew, when you are strictly forbidden to leave?”

If he can hide that he almost tried to skip town, maybe he can get away with just being punished for breaking curfew. It's not like he's never done that before. “I wanted some air. It's stuffy as hell in here.” Sure, Jose will lock him in some dark, tiny closet somewhere for a day or so, but he can handle that.

“You seem to have this false belief that my rules only exist when you deem them convenient,” the man said, disappointed but not surprised by Gajeel's insolence. He should be used to it by now. “This defiance of yours is getting out of hand. Curfews are important for safety and maintaining order. Keep breaking them and I will find new ways to keep you inside.” Probably a couple days in the closet. He'll be fine. “That would've been the case if you were not lying to me.”

How-?

“I ain't lyi-”

Gajeel's iron scales were durable. He could brush off hits that downed most people. Metallicana made him spend hours honing his defenses until a strike no longer hurt, no longer did damage. His normal human skin retained a bit of that resilience, but not to the same degree. 

Which is why Jose made sure to wear rings whenever he slapped him. The backhand whipped his head to the side and the room spun. The rings left harsh scratches across his cheek, not deep enough to break skin but definitely enough to sting.

“Sol, why don't you show him?”

“Bien sûr, Master.”

Still reeling from the slap, helpless to do anything but watch, Gajeel sat frozen as the stone walls morphed. Twisted and sculpted themselves into new shapes, figures, a boy with long hair and anger in his face, a girl with a furred hat looking worried. Familiar faces. A scene copying a memory not even two hours old.

And voices.

“We don't have t'stay, Juvia! We shouldn't have t'put up with their shit. We can leave and start over somewhere else.”

Incriminating voices. A perfect replica.

“The earth remembers all, petit renard.”

Gajeel's mouth felt full of lead. Nothing to say. What could he say?

Jose spoke instead. “Sol heard everything about your little runaway fantasy. Shame on you for trying to force Juvia into your scheme.”

“Miss Lockser is a respectable young lady. Polite and dutiful.” Aria sang praises Gajeel knows mean nothing. If they actually gave a shit, all the bastards who harassed her would actually face consequences. “You are a terrible influence on her.”

‘You fuckin' know nothin’. Ya only think that cause she stands up fer herself now.'

“I know all about your little nightly excursions too, the many times you sneak down to my kitchen to steal food,” Jose added. Gajeel's blood ran cold. “Is that what you thought you'd do upon running away? Stealing from people again? Did you learn nothing from the last time that got you in trouble? It's only thanks to my generosity that you're in a guild and not a prison.”

Something snapped, sending all thoughts of pretending out the door. How dare Jose bring up that memory. “Fuck you! Like yer any better! Generous my ass, y’all treat me like shit! The scraps ya give me ain't ever enough.”

“Not this again,” Jose shook his head. “Lying to make excuses for selfishness will not work.”

“And taking such foul language with the master is a big non non,” Sol added, like he did every single time he heard Gajeel swear. “Where I come from, children would have a bar of soap shoved into their mouths for talking like that.”

It was so damn frustrating. Gajeel knew he wasn't lying. Everyone seemed to believe he could just eat scrap metal and be fine but it wasn't enough. He needed real food too, but the tiny portions he was allowed always left his stomach gnawing for more. Hunger became a constant pain that refused to go away. Jose never believed him.

“I've been patient enough to tolerate those grievances, but this disrespect has crossed a line.” Jose moved his arms to his front. Gajeel expected to see the thick discipline cane the man kept in his office, hung looming on the wall. It was a tool he utilized often. 

But when Gajeel saw what Jose had actually been holding, he wished it'd been the former. The blazing pyre of anger extinguished, smothered by the icy grip of dread. “Why… do you have that?”

This was not supposed to happen. Jose wasn't supposed to have that thing. He wasn't supposed to be like those other people. 

“I have used various methods of disciplining you, and if tonight has shown me anything, it's that those have proved ineffective. Perhaps this will get the lesson through. Aria.”

Gajeel didn’t pay attention to what the air mage did. His vision had tunneled in on the item in Jose's hands. Not that. Anything but that. 

Sol held fast until the sharp scales snaking over the boy's skin - tearing the warm fabric of the jacket - forced him to retreat. Gajeel managed one step before Jose's shadows snatched him instead. They did not falter as he writhed, kicked, pleaded for them to stop, for them to not put him in that awful thing.

But then Aria raised his arm, fingers dancing across a magic circle, and the air was sucked out of his chest.

When his eyes opened next, it was cold. And he was no longer in his room.

Stone walls, a lashing wind, and the inky black of night beyond. 

He was in the Sky Prison.

With the stiff leather straps of a fucking muzzle enclosed around his face.

No.

No no nO NO NOT AGAIN!

He lurched up, a panicked roar muffled to almost nothing. His balance nearly faltered but his mind wasn't there enough to register the absence of his leg prosthetic. Jaws sealed shut. He tried to claw at it, shred it to pieces, but he could not pull his hands free of the freezing shackles bolted to the floor behind him. Could not call his magic to protect himself.

And with those two simple tools, his mind transported him elsewhere. A dark and grimy jail cell. These same restraints stealing any agency he had. The phantom pains of bleeding gashes cutting across his back and arms, placed by a sharp belt buckle. A nightmare taking shape. A memory returning to haunt.

History repeating itself.

It was cold yet sweat formed on his neck. His ears rang with his own pounding heart. He heaved down breaths of air through his nose because he couldn't open his mouth, he couldn't breathe, the muzzle wasn't even around his neck but somehow something must be choking him because it's hard to breathe. Why can't he breathe? The cold air is stinging his lungs but it must be a lie because there is no air, he isn't breathing, his throat is closed, he can't get the muzzle off, he can't breathe. 

“Control yourself, Gajeel. You're acting like a rabid dog.”

Jose and Aria stood a few strides away. The lingering residue of the air mage's magic still hung in the surrounding space.

‘Take it off!’ Gajeel tried to yell through the muzzle, but anything that came out was unintelligible. He let the sound ground him back to reality. Made him aware of the air that was in fact moving in and out with the rise and fall of his chest. Or was that just the shivering? His jacket, scarf, and boots were left behind and the short sleeved shirt he wore was not a suitable wind buffer. 

“It’s saddening that I have to do this, but your behavior has left me little choice,” Jose chastised, ignoring the protests of his charge. “You will be spending time up here until you prove to me you've learned your lesson.”

“Tis truly tragic, trapping one of our own up in this prison, but it is the only way you'll learn.” Aria's tears soaked his mask, Gajeel always doubted if they were genuine. 

“These are the consequences of disobedience, Gajeel. You've only yourself to blame. I've sheltered you, kept you fed, protected you from the Bureau, and look how ungrateful you are. You should know there's not many people willing to put up with an animal like you as I've had.”

‘I'm not an animal I'm not an animal I'm NOT an animal!’

“What did you expect to happen once you left? Did you think you'd find people who'd want to help you? People more patient and generous than me? You'd sooner find yourself on display in a zoo.”

It couldn't be true. There had to be some who would see he's still human despite everything. People who wouldn't care about the scales on his face and shoulders, the pointed ears, the sharp fangs and claws. 

Jose had to be wrong. He had to be.

“You remember Nerium, don't you?”

At that name, the boy flinched. How could he not? He could only dream of forgetting that horrible place. Where all this began. He had learned its name months after leaving, while learning the language of this country, for the sole purpose of remembering never to step foot there again. 

“You remember how they treated you. They saw your draconic physicality and thought you a monster, a demon. Normal humans don't have scales or fangs. They don't growl at things they don't like or eat metal. Magic is not supposed to change a body like that. You're an anomaly, and most people do not like anomalies that aren't under control.

“That's why I brought you here. Unlike many, I can see you for what you can become. A strong wizard. One whose name can become synonymous with the strongest guild, the prestigious Phantom Lord. People won't dare to disrespect you then, no matter what they think about you. They will fear our retribution too much to even think of crossing you.

“But that only happens if you're under control. Under me, your master. Leave and there will be no one to protect you. And the only treatment you can expect is chains and a muzzle just like that. Or perhaps they'll hand you to the Bureau to be turned into a science experiment, just as those in Nerium planned. So consider this lesson a sneak peek into the so-called freedom you wish for.”

Gajeel didn’t notice the tears running down his face until he saw droplets falling to the floor. He turned away, wiping them off against his knee.

He didn't want it to be true.

But he noticed how people looked at him. At his bizarre appearance and mannerisms. The glares and raised voices whenever he got too angry, whenever he looked like he lied because he didn't like making eye contact, whenever he overheard a conversation he shouldn't have because tuning out the noise was so hard.

The people of Nerium had called a demon slayer to deal with him, as if he were a pest to exterminate. And she'd nearly done it. Turned back not due to him being a terrified child but only because he wasn't her chosen quarry. 

And the Bureau again. The town's plan b before Jose showed up.

Is that really all that he is to people, some wild monster? Something to be chained and caged? Would-

Would Juvia be in danger traveling with him? If not from him, then by the people who hunt him? Would they see her being friends with a monster and think she's one too?

Gajeel turned back and the two men were gone, transported back to the Oak Town hall with Aria's magic.

All alone.

Left to his thoughts and tears in the cold, cruel silence. 

Gajeel hated the silence, so he tried to fill it.

If it weren't for the muzzle, anyone within proximity to the tower would've heard the young teen screaming himself hoarse. Thrashing in his bindings until one shoulder dislocated. Carving grooves into the stone beneath him until his claws broke. But the biting winds drowned him, sapped at energy until they forced him to the floor, curled into a crumpled heap. Trying to stifle a sob.

No one could hear him. They wouldn't help even if they did.

-

Now.

Gajeel had sat beaten and bloody in Nerium’s jailhouse for less than a day before the master of Phantom Lord arrived to collect him.

Jose forced him to endure the Sky Prison for three.

The shoulder that'd been dislocated protested the pressure, but he didn't tell Juvia.

Hugs, he decided, were okay, but only if it was her. The thought of anyone seeing him so pitiful made his skin crawl, but at least he knew Juvia wouldn't judge. Wouldn't think him weak. He could think about this and not think about how humiliating it was begging the master to be released, with desperate apologies for running away.

He would not think about that.

He would not think about how he'd spent the last couple hours crying in his room, ignoring his parched throat and pleading stomach because he was too damn scared to walk down and face the other guild members. 

He can hear them gossiping. Laughing about the ‘little dragon brat’ who tried to run. Who ran right on back because he couldn't handle it, even though that wasn't why he returned at all. Who got what he deserved. Several theories were flying on how he was punished and while none were accurate, they made his ears burn.

He couldn't go down there. They'd be on him like a pack of hunting dogs with an injured fox.

Gods he was hungry.

He didn't know when Juvia entered the room. Those past hours felt like a blur, an emptiness. The pain dulling to a consistent buzz and then numbness. He didn't remember when the tears began falling, didn't even notice they had until Juvia pointed it out. 

What was wrong with him? He usually noticed things like that.

He pulled away from Juvia, stretching out his arms and legs to get some feeling back into them. Then took in the state of his room.

The window had been altered. It had already been only barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. But now the middle was filled in, bricked up and blocked, leaving only two small holes letting in minimal light. 

No more escaping. 

Aside from that, the rest of his space appeared untouched. The cloth he used to bind his chest still lay bundled at the foot of his bed. He's glad he took it off before venturing out, thinking he'd find a better one on the road. It probably would've been bad if he'd worn it the entire time in the tower.

His boots and prosthetic sat on the floor. Bracing with a hand on the wall, Gajeel slowly rose, his left leg sore but holding his weight. Following his eyes and seeing where he intended to go, Juvia stood up as well to offer assistance. Too tired to even use his magic, he accepted it.

He just wanted to lie down.

He collapsed onto the mattress as soon as they were close enough, nuzzling into the soft fabrics. His stomach growled, the emptiness like a monster's claws hacking at his insides.

“Are you hungry? Juvia brought some food.”

His ears perked up. “Ya did?”

She walked back to the corner they'd been sitting and picked up a bowl that'd gone past his notice. Several cut fruit, including a few orange slices.

The memories of getting sick from eating too much after periods of going hungry were all that stopped him from wolfing down the bowl by the handful. Juvia risked punishment by sneaking that up. He wouldn't let them go to waste. If she noticed the dried blood on his fingers, or the ripped up state of his nails, or the scabbed abrasions and dark bruises encircling his wrists, she didn't point it out. 

"Did you? Did you actually run?" Juvia eventually asked. Gajeel paused, then nodded, hoping she could catch the regret in his expression. "But you came back, and Master Jose caught you?" 

He can still see the man's face, that cruel smile haunting his mind whenever he thought about that night. He hoped the bastard dies slowly and rots in the deepest hells. Gajeel nodded again, and mentally prayed to be spared having to explain how he'd been punished as a result. 

For once the heavens listened, for the next question Juvia presents is, "why did you come back?"

'Cause I didn't wanna be alone.'

"Cause I didn't wanna leave ya behind.” It wasn't even a lie. “If I left, ya wouldn't have anyone else fer the Freaks Club.”

And now he could never leave again. But maybe that was for the best if it wouldn't be worth it.

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 14

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!!  AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13

Gajeel?

Gajeel where are you?

“Do I have to repeat myself?  I said prepare a space in the infirmary.  I have a subject incoming with an impale wound.”

“A what?!”  A voice, rubbed raw with screams, gasped out.  There was no answer.

Wait…

Was that my voice?

Everything felt so hazy, so detached.  

No, no, he can’t have been impaled.  I don’t remember seeing him being… he was beaten into the dirt.  I saw Rogue do that.  He didn’t do anything else.  I stopped it, I saved him, I--

In her haze, she tried to move, tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t obey her.  Something was moving her, holding her, and instinctively she recoiled from that unknown force.  She regretted it immediately as pain flared through her like wildfire, tethering her further to the world and trying to pull her from her haze.

It hurts!! Oh god it hurts; what is that!?  I can’t see anything, I don’t remember—

Then the images hit her.  All at once, pounding into her brain to the tune of her racing heart.

Standing, arms spread, shielding the broken man.  Pleading for it to stop, and then it hit her.  The spear running her straight through, tearing flesh.  It happened again, and again and again.  Each time it replayed in her thoughts another wave of pain shook her and she opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t tell if she even made a sound.   She felt her lungs burn, her throat tighten, but only part of her was present.

LEVY!

His voice cut through the fog in a blaze.  That scream--his scream--dug hooks into her pierced shoulder and reeled her blindingly to the present.  Her eyes snapped open with a gasp, coughing from the rawness of her own throat.

Levy was set onto something solid, and she heard a thud next to her, then a slam.  There was pressure put over her, holding her in place, and then everything started to shake.  Was the ground shaking or was she?

She couldn’t tell if she was looking around her or if she was hallucinating.  Everything was a blur, swept by some unknown current before she could latch onto any details.  Where am I?  Where are you taking me?  Please, I want to go home!  I want to see Gajeel!

She could feel a hard pressure wrapping around her shoulder, immediately firing stabbing, burning pain through her.  The pain that made everything tighten and her jaw clench so tight she thought she might crack her teeth.  

Then the pain slowly, terrifyingly, became static.  It was a fuzzy throb at the edge of consciousness and she realized she was slipping away.  The pain had brought devastating weakness and a blackness that chipped away at her consciousness.  Like a hungry beast it took more of her, bit by bit.

Stay awake, stay awake, I need to…

With a roll of her head, the blurs, for just an instant, made out the form of a large black mane. It was gone as quickly as she had recognized it, and so was the pain.  Is this what dying feels like?  She felt nothing, saw nothing, and eventually,

Thought nothing.

“No sir, she has no family that we know of.  She is acquainted with the chief’s son, however.”

Brown eyes opened slowly to the sound of muffled voices, gazing weakly around the sterile white room.  The light was near blinding, bringing a painful, throbbing pressure in her forehead as she shut her eyes again to block it out.

“Minor.  Igneel was unable to find us in the past.”

The sound of a familiar name tugged at her again to try and wake up.  Igneel?  Natsu’s dad?  Levy opened her eyes again and turned her head slowly to the side, trying not to agitate anything.  Her eyes focused on the door with the frosted glass window.  Two silhouettes stood outside it, their voices muffled but intelligible through the door.

“You have given him reason to try again.”

“He’ll be hard-pressed to get the clear from commissioner, what’s-his-name, to open the case back up.  In a different county no less.  Hargeon is a large city, my friend.  And we have been meticulous.  Six years is a long time to bring a plan to fruition.  The destruction of our first station was merely a speedbump, and ultimately a catalyst to rush construction here.”  That sickening, confident voice overshadowed the other.  She knew that voice, but was not yet conscious enough to understand the implications of where she was.  “Now, is she stable?”

“Yes, sir.  She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to close the wound.  She’ll need to rest for a few days but fluids and pain medications should pull her through.  It’s too early to say if she will be able to use that arm again without therapy.”

I what? she thought, turning her head too quickly to try and look at herself.  Instantly a wave of dizziness washed over her and she tensed, but only pain followed.  The blunette grit her teeth and bit down on a cry, not wanting to tip off the men outside to the fact she was awake, however fleeting it was.

“Yes yes, that’s all great but how soon until I can move her?   Speak to her?  I don’t need her to be recovered, just coherent.”

Levy’s stomach twisted a little, the more the one voice spoke, the more her hazy, weak state of mind was able to catch up with who he was.  Who had her.

Slowly this time, the girl moved her gaze around the room again, confirming that she was alone, and that the room was bare save for medical equipment at her bedside, beeping softly.  She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her nausea, and realized then that she had something on her face.  With her left hand, she reached to her mouth shakily and felt the oxygen mask, before her good arm fell weakly at her side again.  An IV line was taped to the back of her hand.  Levy craned her neck as best as she was able and saw the heavy bandaging around her injured shoulder, with her right arm secured in a sling.   Her head dropped back onto the pillow and she bit back another groan.

There was a heavy pause before the other male responded.  “The soonest you should be able speak to her is in another day or so.  You may move her if she is in a wheelchair. You won’t be able to run her around but she should be awake and aware.”

“Good.  I need her aware of her purpose here as soon as possible, before our iron dragon catches on to our little fib.  I need to be able to use her, quickly.”

Gajeel!  She could barely remember them taking him… or her for that matter.  All she remembered was Rogue, running her through.  The image flashed through her mind’s eye harshly, her shoulder ached in response.

Levy couldn’t fully process the state of her situation, but did her best to move through the facts, one by one.  That was definitely Jose outside her door, and they definitely had Gajeel.  Which meant he was alive on one hand, but on the other he was theirs again.  Judging by what Jose had said, Jupiter Technology had been building another facility long before they even lost their first.  In Hargeon of all places, which was at the least two hour’s drive from Magnolia.  So far from home.  She pressed her eyes shut tightly, trying to will away the pain that the medications could not.

It took a minute for her to realize she could no longer hear the voices outside.  She started to feel her thoughts, along with her hope, slipping from her.   This time, it was sleep beckoning her, rather than weakness. As the black closed in, she could clearly see a single face in her mind that only brought her a shred of solace, and a world of guilt.

“Natsu… what do we do if he says no?”  Lucy whispered to the boy next to her, her eyes focused on the clasped hands in her lap.  Both of them sat on a bench at the station after coming to pester Igneel about Levy.

“Dad’s hard to say no to,” he responded, voice just as hushed.  “And even if he doesn’t get the okay… you know he’ll try anyway.”  A proud smile pulled at his mouth.

“Will it be in time, though?” Lucy replied, squirming in her seat.  “She went missing yesterday and there’s still no sign of her,” the blonde’s voice cracked, before she felt his arm over her shoulders and he pulled her into his side.  Carefully, he kissed her hair.

“We’re gonna find her, Luce.  One way or another.  I promise.”  Natsu did his absolute best to sound confident, to reassure her.  Judging by the slight relaxing of her shoulders, it seemed like it worked.  They both knew full well it wouldn’t be that easy, but neither of them needed to acknowledge it right now.  For Levy’s sake, they wouldn’t allow themselves to be anything but optimistic.

A sudden thud and a raised voice brought their attention to the door to their right, the frosted glass only giving them a glimpse at movement within.

“The hell you mean you can’t, Makarov?” the fiery-haired man nearly bellowed at the stern-faced elder in front of him.

“I never said I couldn’t, Igneel.  Don’t you raise your voice at me,” the older man replied sternly. Despite having a stature considerably smaller than the redhead in front of him, the commissioner exuded a powerful authority.  “Just not as quickly as you are asking me to.  You know we can’t just warm up such a high-profile case up this fast.  There is a process.  We need people, time, a review of the evidence.  You are asking me to dig all of this back up on a hunch, and to bring it to another jurisdiction no less.  Because of something you think the kids found.”

Igneel balled a fist and dropped it down on the commissioner’s desk.  “Are you listening to me at all?  They know specific details from the case.  Details we never released.  And a child is missing again, sir.  It’s the same thing all over again.”

“It’s coincidental, chief.  You know it is.   The information they know is entirely a product of their trespassing and juvenile imaginations,” Makarov replied, directing his eyes down to his desk apologetically.  “You need to get a missing person’s report filed, not reopen the case that got away.  We all have them.”  There was a knowing edge to his words.  “You aren’t the only one that’s lost something, Igneel.”

“I know damn well I’m not the only one, but you don’t need to take out your failures as a guardian on me,” he growled, glaring heavily at the commissioner.  

“Watch yourself, boy.”  Makarov bit out, making it clear a nerve had been hit.  “Don’t get yourself hurt treading into my personal affairs.”

Igneel winced, realizing the hastiness of his words.  Bringing up his grandson was a low blow, but he couldn’t stop now.  “Our justice system failed every one of those children, and now that I have reason to try again I won’t let it fail them all over.  It’s Levy that’s missing.  The girl never gets into any trouble.”  A muscle twitched in Makarov’s jaw that let Igneel know he was at least on the right track.  “She fits the bill, no parents or extended family.  She’s been missing since yesterday, and she claimed to have seen Porla, here in Magnolia,” he urged, trying to find some way to keep pushing his superior.  “I am not letting this die on me again and I will not have another kid’s life on my hands that I didn’t try hard enough to find justice for.  The longer we wait the greater the chance we never see her again.”  Igneel straightened up and squared his shoulders, exuding a fiery determination that did not go unnoticed.

Makarov looked up to the chief, his eyes studying the hardened man’s face for a few moments.   Igneel would not back down, and did not waver under his superior’s stare.  It was not something the old man was unaccustomed to.  The chief had a personality as combustible as his appearance would suggest and when he fixated on something, he was not like to let it go.  It was a quality that both infuriated Makarov as his superior, and also massively served their department.  It was also a quality he was slowly passing onto his son.

Finally, a defeated sigh deflated the dominant stature and Makarov hunched a little.  “Alright,” he said first, but seeing the expression of victory quickly rise in the red-head in front of him, Makarov quickly raised a hand to stop him.  “I’ll authorize a small detail to the old facility to see if there are any indications that Levy, or Porla, were there.  I recommend Laharl.  I want a full report on the evidence we have thus far, and I will need a testimony from your son and Lucy, before I even think of contacting anyone in Hargeon.  I need to know that we even have something solid to stand on before stepping into another county.  Clear?”

“Crystal.”  Igneel rested both hands on the desk with a grateful smile, pushing his weight forward before he rolled back on his feet to leave.  “Oh, and sir?”  Makarov hummed in response, “I do hope your boy reaches out to you again, someday,” he said in way of an apology for his earlier transgression.  The commissioner merely nodded solemnly, and watched the chief leave.

“Where are you taking me…” Levy asked, barely above a whisper.  Her voice was flat and dry, eyes fixed on her lap.  The floors were thankfully smooth for the most part, allowing the chair to roll without jostling her.  The process of being pulled out of bed was uncomfortable enough, and the near full day of sleep hadn’t done much for her headache.

“Dr. Porla wants you in the holding wing,” the voice behind her answered, just as devoid of expression as she was.  She didn’t recognize him when he had come for her that afternoon, nor did she recognize anyone they passed in the halls.  

Levy licked her lips, trying to fight the horrible cotton-mouth, “Holding?”

“Where the subjects are kept,” he answered abruptly, a finality in his voice that told her he was done indulging her.  He likely wasn’t permitted to speak to her much at all.

The girl went rigid and clenched her good fist, understanding turning into dread.  They’re taking me to see him.  The realization hit hard, and her breath hitched.  This wasn’t going to be some casual bedside visit, there was a definite motive here and her thoughts returned to the conversation she overheard the day before. There was a very real reason why they had brought her here; Jose seemed like a man of results and efficiency, they wouldn’t have wasted time or resources on her unless they expected her to benefit them in good measure.

Levy’s gut dropped with the elevator as they descended two floors, terrified of what she might see at the bottom.  She studied the buttons on the elevator, gleaning that in terms of height(or depth) the building wasn’t that large:  1, GF, -1, -2.  He had punched the bottom-most key.  We’re going underground… they keep them underground.  She turned her head slightly, glancing at the man behind her from the corner of her eye.  She may not have recognized him, but felt it pertinent to at least know his face.

There was a soft sliding noise as the doors opened in front of her, revealing a long, bright hall, at the end of which stood none other than Jose.   As the man pushed her forward, the gap from the elevator to the floor jerked her shoulder painfully.  Levy inhaled through her teeth, but kept her eyes open.  On either wall were what looked like large glass panels, doors almost.  Each evenly spaced from the other, with maybe fifteen on each wall.  

It wasn’t until they passed by the first glass wall that she realized they were cells.  The first few were empty, but they had the same amenities you’d see in a jail cell, with a single light in the ceiling of each.  After passing two empty cells, she saw one that was occupied by none other than one of her captors: Rogue.  He sat, motionless, on his cot with his head bowed. Their arrival did nothing to stir him, and with how airtight the cells looked, she wondered if they could even hear them.  The next cell had another man, laid back completely on his cot with his arms behind a head of maroon hair; then came a man with golden hair, sat the same way Rogue was with head bowed.

Levy swallowed hard, watching as they passed the cells one by one.  Not every one was occupied between the two walls, but they were mostly filled with people of similar ages.  Most were in the same state of quiet obedience as Rogue and the other two.  But the further they went—closer to the repulsive sight of Dr. Jose Porla at the end waiting for her—the more unrest she saw within.  Some of them would suddenly rush the walls, and impact with muted thuds, spitting silent curses.  Rocking and pacing, the more restless individuals appeared to have earned additional restraint in the form of masks, handcuffs that encompassed their forearms entirely, and even just straps to hold them to their cots, with lines of some unknown chemical attached to their arms.  They looked like caged animals, and they were treated as such.  

“Miss McGarden, so good to see you on the mend.”  The very sound of his voice brought a deep sense of loathing that she didn’t even know she was capable of.  The capacity to hate someone with such vehemence was new to her, and it drew her gaze from the subjects to the man responsible.  “I won’t waste your time or mine with chatter,” he started, and had Levy felt better she might have scoffed at him for that, “I have something I am just dying to show you.”  The mustached man jerked his gaze to the final cell in front of him as the individual behind her rolled her next to Jose.  It was dark inside, and she realized the ceiling light that the other cells were equipped with was smashed out.  The glass wall was scraped and scuffed, and the cot had been smashed and twisted beyond recognition, pushed all the way to the front like it had been used to try and get out.

There was a faint, pulsing red light within the cell that only supplemented a small amount of ambient light from the hall.  Each time it flashed she could see the outline of a large figure on its knees with its back to them, slumped against the back corner.  She brought her left hand to her mouth, stifling not only her gasp but trying to stay the meager contents of her stomach.

Gajeel swayed back and forth, dragging his head and armcuffs across the wall in front of him before thudding against the wall next to him before swaying back the other way.  Mindless and repetitive.  She could see lines coming from his cuffs, attached to something within the walls, and wondered if that was a way to medicate him.  

“What have you done to him?” she wheezed, unable to tear her eyes away from him or put any more strength in her voice.

“Besides pumping him continually with sedatives?” Jose answered, a hint of precarious amusement in his tone as he clasped his hands behind his back and turned to look fully at Gajeel.  “I told him you were dead.”

Levy nearly choked, her eyes flying to Jose, the hatred having given way to desperate pleading.  A complete lack of comprehension for the utter depravity and lack of humanity that he wore like a badge of honor, with a cape of indifference.  The shock left her with no room to spit at him, only to ask, “Why?”

Jose looked at her, a brow raised as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she was asking a very stupid question.  “To see if we could make him more pliable, of course,” his tone was matter-of-fact in a way that turned her stomach.  “He was in such a rage yesterday when we got him here, after the first round of sedatives wore off.”  The man smiled, shaking his head, “Had he been a conditioned subject, it would have been such a magnificent power to control.  He truly continues to be one of our best in terms of ability.  Not in terms of will.  Too much of that, he’s got,” Jose trailed off a little, looking back to the dragon in his cage.  “But then I had the brilliant idea to test your effect on him.  Once I told him, it was like flipping a switch.  It was spectacular.  He went down like a rock, faster than any tranquilizer we could have ever used.”  There was a sideways glance to the blunette, “You really have quite a hold on him.”

Levy grimaced and her hands shook, but she had to force herself to talk.  She was right here, in front of him and very much alive.  She couldn’t allow him to think or suffer otherwise.  “Do you really think that glass will hold him?” she spat, deliberately raising her voice.

The researcher shook with a condescending laugh, bringing a palm to his face in insulting exasperation.  “Oh, you sweet child.  That is four inches of layered Lexan polycarbonate, with one-sided tint.  He’s not going anywhere, he can’t see us, and he can’t hear you either, so don’t try.”

Levy bit her lip, having been foiled so easily.  She was grasping at straws and little more.  “So then why am I still here?  If I am ‘dead’ what else could I be good for to you?” the blunette asked, heavily dreading the answer to the question.

“Insurance,” Jose answered simply.  “Should that beast turn to that thirst for revenge I so know him to be capable of, all I have to do is dangle you in front of him.  It is abundantly clear to me that he will do anything for you, out of some poor, misguided emotional investment.  And if it comes to that, I will suddenly be the man who brought you back to life, as well as the man who can take it away.”  The foreboding in his voice was not lost on her.  “You are exactly the tailored conditioning tool I needed for him, Levy McGarden.  I have been fortunate enough to find some for our others, but never one for him,” he shot a look down the hall that made Levy wonder what ‘insurance’ he could have possibly used against the other poor souls on this floor.  “Even when I thought I had truly molded him into the weapon we needed, he still found a way to defy me.  And I will not be defied.  Not this time.  Not when I have worked so hard to expand this company.”  There was an edge to his words, and she could see him grip his hands together with white knuckles for several tense moments before he relaxed himself and rolled the tension off his shoulders.  “Besides, do you really think I can let you walk, knowing what you do?  With all that snooping you’ve done?  You did this to yourself; how you must wish you had stayed in your quiet little house.”

Levy had nothing to say, and for a moment she wondered if she would have been better off never finding Gajeel or the lab.  If she should have just killed her curiosity and let the legend be a legend.  No.  I can’t live with that kind of ignorance, she berated herself.  The girl had no idea what would become of her here, or if she would ever see the sun again let alone Gajeel.  But she could not justify having not tried to stop such a terrible injustice.

“I have yet to decide if I want to make better use of you once I’ve sold him, so you are more than welcome to hold your breath on that.  Know that if you try any heroics, you will make his life considerably worse,” he turned to fully face her, leaning forward to place both hands on either arm of her chair.  “And I am sure you are not ignorant to how hellish I can make things for him.  So do be a dear and do as you’re told.  Quietly,” his tone had dropped, threatening her.  “Your life is in just as much his hands as he is in yours.”

“You’re sick,” Levy muttered, having lost what little confidence she came in there with.

“I prefer brilliant,” the proud man replied as he pulled back, standing straight.  “We are going to have such an interesting dynamic here, Miss McGarden.  I can see it.”  His eyes flicked up to the silent, shell of a man across from them.  “We have learned from our mistakes, and we have built something even greater.”  A wistful smile, like that of a man who truly believed he was doing something great, crossed his face.

“Now, enough of my talking.  You need to rest.  I’d love to show you the training hall next.  Although you already got a taste of it in the field,” he smirked, glancing to her wound.  “But I do have to listen to my medical team sometimes and the last I need is you dying before I even get any return from you on the resources you’re graciously being supplied…”  With that, Jose gave her a taunting wave as she was turned away, her gaze falling on Gajeel last.

The broken shadow of the man that had tried so very hard to save them both from this.  Her gaze lingered as long as it could, as though begging him to see her--sense her--until he faded from view with the rest of the line of poor souls, whose lives were in just as much ruin as Gajeel.  Her heart bled for all of them, wondering if any of them had someone to care for them anymore.  What had Jose used against them to bend them beyond the conditioning?

Where is she, where is she?!  Give her back to me!  I won’t let you have her!  Get me OUT of here! I will tear this whole damn place down to the ground again.  I will finish it!  Give her back to me!  Don’t fuckin’ touch m--

How violently you still fight against me now that you’ve lost.  You’re home again, X777.  Give in, give up.  You know I hate the giving you the shocks like this.

I’ll fucking kill you, Jose!  This is over!  Give! Her! Back!

Oh how you call for her, you pitiful beast.  ‘Where is she?’  Don’t you know?

The fuck you talkin’ about?!

Levy is dead.

The girl died right there, in your arms.  You brought her to her death.

She lost too much blood.

X772 tore her up, fragile thing.

What a foolish decision she made to interfere.

You have nothing left to fight for.  You have nothing left to live for.  Come home, let me give you purpose.

Naïve boy, just give up.  Don’t fight us, let the medicine kick in again.

There now.  I will make it all go away.

That’s it, that’s a good soldier.

Don’t move, now.

The other men had left after ensuring all his sedation lines were connected through his cuffs and thoroughly pumping him with everything that would keep him on his knees, and prevent any more outbursts like the one just before they arrived.  Had he not already still felt the effects of the first round, he might have been coherent enough to get past them.  But his limbs failed him, and his blurred vision betrayed him.  His back still tingled where the voltage had hit him to get him back down to start with.

Ruby eyes, dull like dying coals, turned slowly towards the front of his cell.  Through the open doors he saw the devil, standing, watching.

Waiting.  There was a small stirring, the remnants of a former self that still felt revulsion for the man.

What did hatred matter now?  What did any of it matter?  He was right back where he started.  And because of him, because of his delusions, he had her blood on his hands.  Blood they hadn’t washed off of him.  It was entirely his fault, and as the stink of it constantly bombarded his nostrils, he couldn’t even try to convince himself that it wasn’t.

The last thing that he remembered was her screaming, shaking in his arms.  He hadn’t been able to escape the sound for a second since he awoke. It was the last memory he had of her and it was seared so profoundly into his mind that by no normal means would he ever be able to escape it.  It was a sound, an image, and a guilt that would haunt him as long as he was… himself.

All at once, he didn’t want to be Gajeel anymore.  The monster outside his cell became less and less an object of fear and hatred, and more of a means of escape.  An escape from anything that was left of himself.  A door to what they wanted him to be: a mindless number.

That was a man that had taken everything from him, and it was a man that could take everything of him.  Everything that would perpetuate the agony he felt, the parts of him that knew, loved and remembered Levy McGarden could be taken so easily by Jose.  That was the man that could destroy Gajeel Redfox one last time and leave only the emotionless, unattached X777.

He wholly relinquished himself to that.  Welcomed it.  

There was nothing else left for him.

The doors finally slid shut, leaving him in the sealed box with only the emergency light flashing after he had destroyed the main bulb.  Gajeel turned back to face the wall and pressed his forehead on the cold surface, barely noting the sensation with how much tranquilizer had been pumped into his system.

Just as deserving of love and kindness as anyone else.

Every one of his muscles tensed and a snarl contorted his face as he headbutted the wall in front of him, shattering that image he had of her.  With one final expulsion of the last bit of strength he had, Gajeel Redfox roared everything that was left of him into oblivion.