crash & burn

19. let's compare scars

TW for scars/mentions of self-harm and past abuse

__________

if we can't find where we belong
we'll have to make it on our own
face all the pain and take it on
because the only hope for me is you alone
- my chemical romance, "the only hope for me is you"

Christmas Eve was in two days, and Gray was sort of, kind of, completely having the panic attack he promised himself wouldn't happen.

"Our body holds on to memories," his therapist had said. "An anniversary of a traumatic event can become almost as difficult as the event itself." Gray wasn't sure about that, because if tomorrow was worse than the day his parents died and the day that Lyon fucked him over put together, then it was going to be a shitstorm of epic proportions.

"You okay?" Gray glanced up from the couch to see Natsu standing over him, and he shrugged. He felt bad – he'd been short and dismissive for most of the day, but Natsu seemed to be taking it in stride. In fact, he'd even made supper for the two of them – even though all he'd done was reheat pizza and throw some vegetables on the plate, it still made Gray feel slightly better.

"Just..." Gray sighed. Natsu nodded, squeezing Gray's shoulder and not remarking on the flinch he received in response.

"I'm gonna go shower," he said gently. Gray nodded, watching Natsu head down the hallway. As soon as Natsu closed the door to the washroom, Gray dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

He knew he was being stubborn. He wasn't blind; it was clear that Natsu liked him, and was probably aware that the feelings were mutual. Gray could have just leaned down and kissed Natsu yesterday – it would have been easy, and Gray's stomach fluttered every time he thought about it.

There was just... Gray sighed and rubbed his face, trying to sort through the roiling mess of emotions in his chest. It wasn't that he didn't trust Natsu. His therapist would have fun with this – she was always insisting that Gray needed to let people into his life rather than blocking them out. But that was easier said than done. He knew it was ridiculous and superstitious, but Gray worried that he was cursed.

"Be a good boy," maman said, pressing a kiss to the top of five-year-old Gray's head. He bounced on his toes, then threw his arms around her waist. She was so pretty tonight, dressed up for Christmas Eve mass, and she smelled like her fancy perfume.

"Je t'aime, maman!" Gray said. She smiled and ruffled his hair. Papa knelt down next to him and Gray hugged him tightly, giggling at the tickle of papa's beard on his cheek.

"Be nice to Aunty Ur," Papa said, smiling, and Gray nodded his head, running back into his favorite babysitter's arms. "We love you," papa and maman said in unison.

Gray leaned back into the cushions, smiling softly at the memory. At least he'd had the chance to say goodbye.

"...they were both killed instantly, I'm so sorry."

Gray stood at the foot of the stairs in his pajamas, clutching his stuffed bear to his chest. Aunty Ur was at the front door, shoulders shaking with tears, lights from the police car painting the walls blue and red.

"Wha's matter?" Gray asked sleepily, moving forward and tugging on Aunty Ur's skirt. She turned to him, crouching down on the floor, and pulled him into her arms.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she whispered, and even though he didn't know what had happened, Gray felt himself starting to cry.

"I want maman and papa," he whispered, trying to pull himself out of Ur's embrace. She just held him tighter, stroking his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek.