“This is your fault,” Gray snapped at Natsu as once again he failed to produce anything more than the most pitiful flame that wouldn’t have lit a candle. The sight of a flame flickering on the end of his finger, and the instinctual flinch as he waited for the pain to set in made his weak control on the magic disappear entirely, and he huffed and clenched his fist. There’s no way we can fight like this, he thought, eyeing the Dragon-slayer who was sat beside him, looking decidedly worse for wear, with cuts and abrasions everywhere and his left eye half-closed with swelling. Concern threatened to bubble through his irritation, but then he remembered that they were in this mess because Natsu hadn’t watched what he was destroying, and as it turned out the weird contraption in the corner of the room had been more than decoration.
“You’re trying to control it too much,” Natsu said, seemingly ignoring the accusation and if he was worried by the fact that they were currently hiding from the mage whose study he had trashed, and were running around with their magic switched and no immediate way to undo the transfer it didn’t show.
“What?”
“My magic,” Natsu lifted his hand and curled his fingers into a fist, and there was the first crack in his calm as a little flurry of ice shot from his fingers rather than flame. “You don’t mould my flames like you do your ice.”
“What do you know about my ice,” Gray demanded. He missed his ice. He could feel Natsu’s fire and warmth just under his skin, and it set him on edge. It wasn’t his. And worst when he’d grabbed the Dragon-slayer to haul him out of the study, Natsu had felt cool to the touch, and it had been so wrong that he had almost dropped him. As much as he had taunted the flamebrain for always been too hotblooded, over the years that warmth at his back or at his side had become a comfort. Natsu was supposed to be warm. He glared at Natsu, unprepared for the Dragon-slayer to meet his gaze directly, or the emotion in them – which he was not ready to put a name to, not with everything threatening to crash down on them.
“I know you.”
A simple truth.
Natsu did know Gray, and while the Ice mage knew it wasn’t what the other mage had been implying, it suggested that he should know the Dragon-slayer just as well, and right now, he wasn’t sure he did as the strange warmth stirred through him.
Am I that far behind…
He didn’t get chance to ask as the door and part of the wall to the room where they had taken shelter blasted inwards, showering them with dust, rubble and the sensation of roiling, dark magic pressing against them. Forgetting all about the fact that he still didn’t have a handle on Natsu’s fire, Gray was immediately on his feet and moving to cover the Dragon-slayer, ignoring the sting of his own wounds. “Not a chance,” he said, standing in front of Natsu who was still pushing himself to his feet, wobbling in a way that suggested there were injuries Gray hadn’t been aware of, and the irritation built a little higher. He channelled it into a glare as the mage glided through the opening he had created, gaze shifting between the pair of them, and Gray tensed as he felt the magical pressure building.
It burst, roaring towards them. A fan of shadow-tinted spears that he had already seen pierce rock, and he froze, he couldn’t shield them from this and Natsu’s fire wasn’t his and…
“Ice Make: Shield!” Natsu roared, and the world in turn of Gray turned blueish-purple a split second before the shadow spears reached them. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the pain, hoping at least his body would protect Natsu, because there was no way the Dragon-slayer could’ve shielded them completely.
The pain didn’t come.
He opened his eyes, mouth falling open as he took in the shield glistening in front of him. It wasn’t as sturdily built as his own would be, and already it was cracking, falling apart from the dozens of impact sights where the shadow spears had struck.
But it had protected them.
Natsu had protected them…with Gray’s magic.
He could feel the Dragon-slayer at his back, vertical now, but almost leaning against him as though that effort had exhausted what strength he had. Gray was about to turn to check on him, when a strangely cool hand came to rest on his shoulder, allowing him to feel the tremors now wracking Natsu. “Why are you fighting…?” Natsu’s voice trailed off, his hand disappearing, and Gray was aware of the sound of the Dragon-slayer slumping to the ground behind him, but he couldn’t move because the shadows were building again, a deadly wave that Natsu couldn’t protect them from this time.
But…
He curled his hands into fists. Why am I fighting? He thought back to the image of Natsu rushing forward to take the blow that had been intended for him, taking the brunt of the damage, before being flung back into him which had sent them both stumbling back into the device that had flared golden as it switched their magic.
For us, for Fairy Tail…for Him.
Something stirred beneath his skin, his hands flushing hot. I’m fighting to protect what’s precious to me, he thought, and the magic that wasn’t his responded, flames beginning to wreath around his hands. There was a burning in his chest, a fire igniting, and rising in his throat. Smoke began to rise as he took a step forward.
Not enough.
There was no sound from Natsu, and it was taking everything he had not to turn around. Protect him. He grabbed hold of that thought, hoarded it like a dragon gathering gold, and the flames responded. They were spreading now, from head to foot, until he felt like he was drowning in Natsu’s presence, and he breathed it in, eyes locked on the other mage. I do know you, he thought, and a wild grin crept across his face and with a shout he charged just as the shadows swept towards them, and the fires roared with him.
