sympathy for the devil

cold as ice

Gray was in Hell.

Everything was hot and suffocating, and the air around him was thick with the smell of sulfur and ash. Screams echoed around him and he wanted to cover his ears, but his body was frozen. He couldn't move, and panic crept slowly up his arms, pushing hot breaths out of him and making him dizzy.

"Welcome home." A figure appeared next to him – a dark, twisted shape that slowly coalesced into something vaguely human and smiled at him with razor-sharp teeth. Gray wasn't sure how, but he knew that it was Azuron. His mother. "You're finally back," she murmured.

"This is a dream," Gray whispered, but Azuron shook her head.

"It's a vision," she said, reaching out and running a cold hand over his cheek. "Of the future. I'm coming for you, to bring you home."

An ache spread through Gray's chest as he looked down at himself – his hands were too big and ended in claws, sharp and black and dripping with blood.

"I don't belong here," he whispered, taking a step back.

"But you do, Zrael," Azuron murmured, brushing hair back from his face and giving him a sharp smile.

"That's not my name." Gray could feel tears on his cheeks, but they were icy cold, and when he wiped his face, his hands came away red. "I have a home."

"None of that is real," Azuron replied, grasping Gray by the back of the neck and forcing him to look over the edge of the cliff. Screams filled the air, animal cries of agony, and they were all faces he knew – Sting and Gildarts and even Silver.

"I won't come back," Gray said, closing his eyes as Azuron's claws pierced the skin of his neck. "I can't."

"Then I'll rip apart everything you love until this is all you have left."

_____

Gray woke up crying with Azuron's words ringing in his ears. He gasped for air, pulling away from Natsu and burying his face in his pillow to muffle his sharp sobs. Panic and terror coursed through him, and the marks on his arms burned, sharp and angry.

Natsu mumbled something in his sleep and rolled away from Gray, and Gray pushed himself quietly out of bed, wiping his face. The book from Gildarts sat on the bedside table and he grabbed it, slipping quietly out of the bedroom and out the back door of the house.

The sun was just rising – a deep, ominous red that dragged Gray back to screams and a deep, uncertain sense of fear. He shuddered, settling on the porch steps and running his fingers over the cover of the book as he gazed up at the sky.

I'll rip apart everything you love until this is all you have left.

"Ustolo," Gray whispered, holding out his hand and willing flames to appear. The marks on his arms flared up briefly and then quickly dimmed, leaving Gray dizzy and frustrated. "Glacio," he growled, but nothing happened, and the itch under his skin intensified, sharp and searing.

Gray groaned, dropping his head into his hands and letting out a shaky breath. Latin had always worked before, and he'd even gotten to a point where sometimes, the magic had come to him without words. Now it fought him, refusing to come at his call.

He knew what it wanted.

Gray glared at the book in his lap, running his fingers over the cover. The others had looked through it, combing out any information that had been translated, but it just confirmed what they already knew.