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In Dark and In Light

This story belongs to -hypothetically - peachykeen

There are nights that are bad for her too.

They’re fewer, farther between Gray’s bad days, but they still manage to somehow creep past her defenses. Explosive, unpredictable little bouts.

She’s grateful to have Gray around. They practically live together (again, she almost adds, but catches herself before that thought is ever complete.); Juvia stays over at Gray’s apartment more than her own.

At first, it happened upon her insistence. She was convinced that Gray needed her when things got bad for him, when his walls would inevitably start to crumble under the pressure of his mind, but really it must have been the opposite.

Yes, Gray needs healing, but Juvia’s surprised to find that she’s the one who is broken.

Sometimes, it happens in the dead of night. Flashes of death burn the back of her eyelids, taunts echo in her ears, buzzing dully in her mind until she’s left crying and ready to pull her hair out. Other times, it happens while she’s busy, whether she’s pouring a cup of tea or flicking through some late-night television. She’ll feel a prod in her chest, the clenching of her heart, and suddenly the walls are closing in on her, the shadows growing darker, and she’s alone. All alone.

And then Gray is there. He’s there, his hands over hers as he untangles them from her blue locks and holds her in his arms, whispering sweet reassurances in her ear until the only thing she can hear is his voice.

He’s there, rubbing circles on her back before scooping her from the couch and carrying her to her room while she ruins one of his only good shirts with her tears.

He’s there, mopping spilled tea from the kitchen floor, apologizing for the invisible scars he left her with when he wasn’t there, picking up the shattered pieces of the mug, picking up shattered pieces of her.

Gray’s always there.

Except one time when he’s not.

It’s a much scarier place, a much scarier timeline. Juvia watches the scene play out in slow motion. His life taken in place of hers.

The last thing she feels are his hands pushing against her abdomen, forcing her out of harm’s way as if she’s the one who deserves to live. She’s the one who should be bleeding out right now, not him. Never him.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and Juvia can only stare in wordless horror at the sight before her. He’s falling - Gray is falling - and she can’t do a goddamned thing about it. His body hits the ground with a thump, only inches away from where she kneels.

The last thing she feels are his hands pushing against her abdomen, forcing her out of harm’s way as if she’s the one who deserves to live. She’s the one who should be bleeding out right now, not him. Never him.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and Juvia can only stare in wordless horror at the sight before her. He’s falling - Gray is falling - and she can’t do a goddamned thing about it. His body hits the ground with a thump, only inches away from where she kneels.

And there’s blood everywhere, the sharp stench of gore rising from his fatal wounds. Gray is stained red. The grass is stained red. Everything is red and sticky and wet and soaked with death. Numbly, Juvia feels it on her palms, seeping through the spaces between her fingers. Terror seizes her.

Her eyes drift to Gray and her bloody fingers itch and she forgets how to breathe and her heart drops to her stomach and-

She wakes up screaming, crying, and flinging bed sheets around her. It takes only a moment to recognize the surrounding darkness, processing the familiar shapes of her bedroom. It was a dream. A nightmare.