Edo-Gray is frustrated with other-Natsu and -Gray's inability to shoot first. Sting distracts him from memories of his time in Imperium, and how he came to Undertown.

TW for (consensual) violent sex, flashbacks to torture and brainwashing

This chapter has a lot of (angsty) smut. Edo-Gray is bad at feelings and has questionable coping mechanisms.

bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints
this is for tonight, the darkess that you felt
i never meant for you to fix yourself

.

As soon as they were through the portal and back into the brothel, Gray growled and slammed his hand against the wall. Rogue tried to touch his shoulder, but he shook it off, stalking to the other side of the room.

"They don't get it," he said, leaning against Rogue's desk. "They're gonna get flatlined if they won't pull the trigger." Sting nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and tapping the screen on his wrist.

"Skavak's ice might be drek, but his guards won't be kind," he said, swiping through several layers of data. His false eye flickered as he absorbed the information. "Maybe we should do it ourselves."

"We can't," Gray argued, crossing his arms. "Nat—the other Natsu has to go. We need to smuggle the weapons out, and he's the only one who can do it." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Frak it. I can take him and watch his back. I can't guarantee he won't have to defend himself, but I'll take care of what I can."

"Gray..." Rogue said carefully, moving toward him and reaching out again. It felt sometimes like Gray was a wild thing, a surging, chaotic energy that couldn't be tamed. Rogue had heard enough of Gray's nightmares to know that his sometimes-savage behaviors were very, very justified. Rogue reached out a hand gently and Gray looked like he might snarl, but instead he sighed and allowed the touch.

"I can handle it," Gray said, voice softer as Rogue caressed his cheek. He leaned into it and kissed Rogue's palm. "He's not... him." Rogue brushed Gray's bangs from his eyes, and Gray reached out, pulling Rogue closer to him and holding him tightly. "If... if this works. If I see him again..." he trailed off, burying his face in Rogue's hair. "Do we have to end this?" His voice was small and soft and Rogue felt his heart break.

"Oh, maitea," Rogue said, stroking Gray's hair and tugging him towards the bed. They sat down next to Sting, who leaned against Gray's back and settled a hand on his hip. "I don't know. It's up to you and him. This has always been an... unusual arrangement."

"You're not just... substitutes," Gray said, voice shaky. "I wasn't just... waiting for him. I... I lo..." He sighed. "Mi amas vin." Rogue held him tighter.

"We love you, too," he said softly. Rogue knew that Gray had always felt like an intruder in his and Sting's relationship, but that was never how they'd seen him.

"Why don't we grab some ramen and head to the stack?" Sting suggested, pressing a kiss to the back of Gray's neck. "Rogue's gotta work soon." Gray sighed, nodding a bit and pulling Rogue back in for another soft, slow kiss.

"If anyone bruises you today, I'm breaking their legs," Gray said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the purplish-green mark on Rogue's wrist. "Don't let them hurt you, okay?" Rogue didn't nod, knowing that Gray knew that he couldn't make any promises.

"C'mon," Sting said roughly, tugging Gray to his feet and leaning down to kiss Rogue goodbye. "Let's go home."

~

By the time they got back to the stack, Gray's skin was thrumming, and he longed for the pills in his jacket pocket. He growled, shaking his head as he kicked off his boots.

"Give 'em to me," Sting said as if reading Gray's mind, reaching out his hand. "You don't need that drek." Gray hesitated and Sting grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward. Gray gasped, feeling a sudden flush of arousal run through him.

"N-no," he stuttered, knowing it was a game, and that while the vicious look in Sting's eyes was real, the threats weren't. Unless he wanted them to be.

"You want me to hurt you?" Sting's hand traveled up Gray's chest, pinching a nipple through his shirt and then resting his fingers around Gray's throat, pressing just hard enough to be dangerous. Gray's breath hitched, and he felt himself growing hard. This was what he needed. Rogue was always gentle with him – always kind and caring. But Sting wasn't afraid to take charge, to be rough.

"Yes," Gray gasped, stumbling backward as Sting's fingers tightened, pressing into the sides of his throat and slamming his head back into the wall. "Gnnngghh, frak," he choked out, wishing Sting would press against him. Tell me what to do, Gray thought desperately. I need you to tell me what to do.

"On your knees," Sting ordered, and Gray complied instantly, dropping to the floor and wincing at the scrape of corrugated steel. Sting's hand moved from Gray's throat to his hair, tugging it until Gray was looking up, throat bared. "You look so pretty like this."

The choice of words should have stung – Gray knew he wasn't pretty, wasn't attractive anymore. But the way Sting said it, it felt like it meant something else. Gray didn't respond, just swallowed heavily and kept his gaze trained on Sting's face. Sting kept one hand in Gray's hair, and the other hand traveled down to his pants, which he unbuttoned and tugged down to his thighs.

"Open your mouth." Sting's voice was rough and Gray obeyed, taking Sting's already-hard cock between his lips. This was easy. He knew what Sting liked – wet and rough with a little bit of teeth. Here was something Gray couldn't mess up. "Good boy," Sting whispered, jerking his hips forward and groaning at the choked sound Gray made. "You're so... nggghh... good at this."

Gray leaned forward and placed both hands on Sting's thighs but was quickly yanked back by his hair. A stinging palm across his cheek shocked him, and the hand in his hair tightened.

"I never said you could touch me," Sting growled, shoving Gray back against the wall. He was still gasping from the pain on his cheek, and he could feel Sting's demeanor soften. "You still with me?" Sting asked, voice gentler.

"Yes," Gray replied immediately, looking up. "Verda. Please."

"Please, huh?" Sting's face transformed back into its predatory gaze, and he stroked himself several times, a contemplative look on his face. Gray wanted desperately to fix it, to make it better again. "Please what? Please let you suck my cock?"

"Yes," Gray whispered, his voice catching. Sting grinned, dragging a hand down Gray's face and grabbing his jaw. When Sting leaned forward again, Gray eagerly took his cock back into his mouth, keeping his hands pressed firmly on his own thighs. There were rules. Sting said don't touch. Rules made things easy.

"Ahh, frak, Gray..." Sting groaned as Gray took him all the way in, pressing up against the back of his throat until he couldn't breathe. Sting rocked his hips forward and Gray tried to relax, breathing deeply through his nose. He knew that if he tapped Sting's thigh three times, Sting would immediately stop, but he'd never used that before. Gray liked this – needed it, even. It was freeing for Sting to take control, to hurt him and use him like this.

Sting's thrusting became more intense and he leaned over Gray, bracing himself against the wall with one arm. Gray's fingernails dug into his palm as Sting's cock hit the back of his throat again and again, and he gagged and choked around the sensation. The hand in his hair moved down to caress his cheek, then traveled lower to press against the hollow of his throat.

"Ahh, Gray, sankta sô," Sting groaned, squeezing Gray's throat carefully. "I love you on your knees like this, choking on my cock."

Gray's hands trembled, wanting desperately to touch himself, but he knew better. Disobedience brought punishment. Although maybe that was what he needed tonight. He slid his fingers over his thigh, and they brushed against his cock through his pants; he moaned at the sensation and then gasped as Sting's fingers tightened around his throat.

"You're not listening tonight, are you?" Sting growled, pulling away from Gray and dragging him up to standing by his hair. He shoved Gray against the wall and pushed a hand against his throat until Gray started to see black spots. Gods, it was perfect. Just enough, and then...

"Cesu," Gray gasped, tapping Sting's wrist, and the hand immediately disappeared. It was replaced by a rough set of lips, kissing away the forming bruises and biting at the skin.

"Turn around," Sting growled, unbuttoning Gray's pants with one hand and pushing them down to his ankles. He grabbed Gray by the hair and shoved him against the kitchen table, bending him over until his face pressed against the cool metal. "Yeah, just like that." Sting kicked Gray's ankles apart until his legs were spread and Gray groaned, hands clenching.

"Please," he begged, feeling Sting's hand on his hip, digging so hard he'd have bruises to match Rogue's.

"Shut up," Sting growled, hand tightening in Gray's hair, pressing him harder into the table. Gray could hear him fumbling with something on the counter behind them, and then he cried out as Sting shoved two slick fingers inside him without warning. "Don't cry," Sting murmured, leaning over and kissing Gray's back. "I know you can take it. Right?"

"Y-yes," Gray choked out, wincing at the pain but moaning at the sensation of Sting's fingers inside of him. He arched his back, pushing back against Sting's hand.

"Good boy," Sting purred, sinking his teeth into Gray's shoulder – not hard enough to draw blood this time, but hard enough to hurt.

Yes, Gray thought, gasping and jerking his hips as Sting fingered him. Hurt me. I can take it. I'm strong. I need this. His cock dragged against the edge of the table and he tried to adjust the angle, but Sting drove another finger inside of him and he shouted, biting his arm.

"That's right," Sting panted, working him open and tugging on his hair. "Let the neighbors know what you're up to. How desperate you are for me." Gray's face flushed at the thought of the people in the other stacks hearing his cries, but the haze of wantsurrounding him made it seem somehow less important.

Without warning, Sting withdrew his fingers and immediately thrust his cock into Gray, shoving the table up against the wall. Sting groaned, long and low, and let go of Gray's hair in favor of holding his hips.

"Frak, you feel so good, Gray," Sting moaned, thrusting in again. He lifted his hand and brought it down on Gray's ass, hissing as Gray clenched around him from the pain. Sting leaned forward, placing a hand on the table, and his voice lost its sharp edge for a moment. "I'm not gonna last long, mia amo. Can I touch you, too?"

Gray hesitated, panting as Sting rocked into him over and over. Part of him wanted to deny himself the pleasure, but the other part just wanted to enjoy this moment, in case it never happened again.

"Yes," Gray said eventually, gasping when Sting's hand wrapped around him and started to stroke in time with his thrusts. The edge of the table cut into Gray's hips, but the pain only heightened the sensations until his movements became erratic and uneven.

"Gray..." Sting warned, tightening his hand on Gray's cock. Gray could feel his release building, but he held it back, refusing to come before Sting. He clenched around Sting's cock and Sting cried out, a litany of curses falling from his lips as he came inside Gray.

"Frak, Gray, via estas mirinda, gods..." Sting stroked Gray several more times and then Gray was coming too, face buried in his arms and hips jerking into Sting's fist.

"Keep it down!" Someone from the next stack shouted as Gray gasped and shuddered.

"Frag off!" Sting called back, letting go of Gray and wiping his hand on his pants. He gently helped Gray stand, then turned him around and brushed his hair away from his face. "You good?" Gray took several shaky breaths, keeping his gaze trained on the floor. "C'mon, maitea, look at me. You okay?"

"Mmm," Gray replied, feeling hazy as Sting pulled him into an embrace. He buried his face in Sting's neck, trembling with adrenaline. "Sh-shower?"

The two of the barely fit in the scrub room together, but Sting insisted on joining Gray, helping him wash his hair and running gentle hands over his chest and back. Afterward they curled up in the bed, naked, limbs entwined and foreheads touching.

"I'm sorry," Sting murmured, brushing his fingers over the red mark on Gray's cheek. Gray shook his head, leaning in and kissing Sting.

"I needed it," he said, shifting closer to Sting and sighing when Sting wrapped his arm around Gray's waist. Gray's throat ached – it would probably bruise – but he felt... stable. The buzzing was gone, and he just wanted to sleep. "Everything just feels so..."

"Mmm," Sting agreed, combing his fingers through Gray's damp hair and kissing his forehead. "But what other choice do we have?"

Gray sighed, reaching down and tugging the threadbare blanket over them both, tucking an arm under his head and closing his eyes. I might see Natsu soon, he thought, and the flicker of hope in his chest ached. What if he doesn't love me anymore?

"Go to sleep," Sting said softly, reaching over and turning off the light. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

~

One Year Ago

"You're alive?" Rogue stepped forward, gaping at Gray, who stood behind Erza in the doorway of their stack. His head was shaved and his clothes hung loosely off his frame, and his face was decorated with bruises and scars. The shoulder of his jacket was stained red. "What the..."

"I'd keep my distance if I were you," Erza cautioned, putting out an arm to stop Rogue from getting too close to Gray. Rogue looked up, puzzled, then took an alarmed step backwards when Gray growled at him. It wasn't a human growl – he sounded like some sort of beast and looked like one too, snarling at Rogue and baring his teeth.

"Gray, enough." Erza's voice was commanding and Gray immediately backed down, dropping his gaze back to the floor and scratching his wrist, whispering to himself. Erza sighed, rubbing a hand over her face and stepping into the stack. Rogue and Sting both backed up and Erza gestured to the kitchen chair. "Gray, go sit at the table." He glanced up at her, eyes vacant, then looked hesitantly at Sting and Rogue. "They're friends." Gray lifted his lip in a half-snarl again, arms wrapped protectively around his body. "Gray! Sit."

Erza's tone was sharp and Gray obeyed it immediately, slinking past Sting and Rogue and settling himself into the chair. He continued to scratch at the spot on his wrist but didn't make any further movements.

"What the..." Sting swallowed, frowning at Gray and then looking back to Erza.

"I don't know what they did to him," she said helplessly. "The scars... it's horrifying." Rogue made a sympathetic noise, desperately wanting to go over and comfort his friend. "You can't touch him." Erza held up her arm to show them a large bite mark, deep into the skin. "He... if he's difficult, we found... he listens to orders." She looked sick. "I can't take him back to the safe house. There's too many people..."

"We'll take care of him," Rogue said, placing a hand on Erza's shoulder.

"He's dangerous," she insisted, rubbing her face with both hands. "He will hurt you if he feels threatened. I just... we can't just lock him up. Not after..."

Rogue shook his head firmly, pushing his way past Erza until he was standing just out of arm's reach of Gray. Then he crouched down on the floor and tried to make eye contact.

"Gray? You in there?" The only response was a low growl, then a return to the whispering. Rogue could just barely make out what he was saying now – it's not real, it's not real, wake up, wake up, wake up. "Gray, this is real. We're your friends." Gray shook his head violently, eyes squeezed shut.

"They always say... real," he ground out, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "I didn't... take them. How? It's never like this. Too long. Why isn't he waking me up?" His hand returned to his wrist and Rogue realized that he was bleeding from the deep scratches.

"Gray, we're real," he said quietly, hands out as if calming a wild animal. "You're not dreaming."

"Liar," Gray replied, voice emotionless. "Not the first time. Too long now." He glanced upwards, as if someone was watching him from above. "Stop it? Please?"

"I haven't been able to convince him that he's not hallucinating," Erza said sadly, leaning against the door frame. "I thought I had, he seemed lucid for a bit, but..." She pushed her hair back over her shoulder. "He won't let us bandage his wrist. He has other open wounds... we can't get close enough." Her shoulders shook as she started to cry. "I was too late."

"Go home," Sting said gently, placing a hand on her elbow. "We'll take care of him. He'll be okay."

~

It hurt. Everything always hurt, here. Gray looked down at the dirty bandage wrapped around his arm and wondered idly if they were going to clean the wound this time. Revik had peeled his skin away yesterday, like slicing the outside from vegetables. There had been so much blood, but Gray hadn't talked. He couldn't talk.

The cell door rattled, and a metal plate was shoved through the barred slot, containing the same lumpy, tasteless processed soy that it did every day. Gray waited a few minutes, huddled in the corner of the room, before moving forward hesitantly and grabbing the tray. He was starving – Revik hadn't fed him yesterday as punishment for... something. Gray couldn't remember what. He tried to pace himself, but the food disappeared far too quickly.

Revik usually came at the same time, if he came at all, and when that time passed Gray breathed a soft sigh of relief. He stood up, stretching out his aching limbs and wincing at the bandage. His back still stung from being whipped last week, but it wasn't the worst pain he'd felt.

"Gray?" His head snapped up as a very, very familiar voice whispered his name. He peered curiously at the cell door. The voice was coming from the food slot, and Gray crouched down, frowning at it. "Gray, are you there? We're here to take you home."

"...N-natsu?" Gray whispered. The world felt hazy, suddenly. His head was light and his limbs were too heavy and he backed against the wall, shaking his head in confusion. "How can you—"

"Stand back from the door."

Gray obeyed, crossing his arms over his stomach and wincing at the loud clank from outside. Then the door swung open and...

It was Natsu. Pink hair and arms wrapped around Gray, even before he could flinch away from the touch. Rogue was behind him, gun in his hands, looking up and down the corridor.

"I thought you were dead," Natsu whispered, and Gray let his hands drift around Natsu's waist. This was... how did they find him? His voice wasn't working, he couldn't get anything out past the lump in his throat. "Frak, I'm so happy you're alive. We have to go."

"How... Revik..." Gray stuttered as Natsu pulled back from him, running the back of his fingers over Gray's cheek.

"I'll explain once we're out of here," Natsu said hurriedly, pulling a pistol from its holster and handing it to Gray. The weight of the weapon felt unfamiliar in his hands after so many... weeks? Months?

"How long have I been in here?" Gray asked as they stepped into the hallway. The lights were too bright, and he winced.

"Six months," Natsu replied sadly, grabbing Gray's hand and pulling him down the hallway. Rogue covered for them, using some sort of tech to override the code on the door and get them out of the lab. "I'm sorry, darling."

Gray frowned. Natsu had never called him that before.

"Wait, you... your arm..." Gray frowned at Natsu, glancing down at his two whole and very functioning arms. No mark from the purging stone. How...

"Gray, it's not important right now," Natsu insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the cell. Gray tugged back, feeling a sick sense of unease.

"Your arm, it... I saw it..." Gray brought his hands up to his head as something dark flashed through his mind. Black and red and teeth.

"Gray, let's go." Natsu's tone was angry now and he'd never spoken like that, even before they were together, back when they shouted insults at each other for fun. Something wasn't right about his eyes. They looked...

"This isn't real," Gray whispered, disappointment and anger and defeat crashing in his chest. He dropped the gun and backed against the wall, bringing his hands to his face. "This isn't real. You're not real."

"Of course I'm not real," Natsu said, his voice transforming to Revik's as he grinned. His teeth grew sharp and he reached out for Gray who cried out and buried his head in his arms. "Nobody is coming for you."

"Please," Gray begged, running his hands over his head and crying. "Stop it. Stop it, this isn't real, you aren't real, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming..."

"Wake up."

Gray blinked. The room was dark, but there was a bed under him instead of the cell floor. He sat up, scurrying backward until his head hit the wall. A soft light began to emanate from the other side of the room, and somebody moved towards him.

"No," Gray pleaded, staring around in confusion. Was this real? Had it been a dream? Where was Revik? "Please, I don't..."

"Gray, it's Rogue." A soft voice broke through the darkness and Gray peered at the figure crouched down in front of him. It was Rogue. But he looked different from the... dream? Memory? Hallucination? His hair was longer and his ears were pierced and... was he... "Gray, this is real, you're with Sting and me, in Undertown. Remember?"

Undertown. Revik had never talked about that. And this Rogue didn't look... fake. Revik could only make what he thought was real.

"Real?" Gray asked shakily. Rogue moved closer and Gray growled, deep in his throat. Don't touch, he thought, snarling and pulling in on himself. Don't touch, touch only hurts. Rogue raised his hands and backed away again, settling onto the floor.

"Real," Rogue said again, running his hands through his hair. It was longer than it had been... before. "Erza got you out. You're not dreaming. Well, you were, but you're awake now. Are you hungry?"

"No!" Gray shouted sharply. That's where the drugs were. Food was dangerous – if he didn't eat, he couldn't be drugged. And he hadn't eaten. So then this wasn't... but what if it was? He groaned and grabbed his head, dropping it between his knees.

"Okay, we don't have to eat," Rogue said, hands out in a placating gesture. Rogue had always been gentle. "Will you let me look at your wrist?"

Gray glanced down at his arm and realized that he'd rubbed the skin raw – it was a dark, bloody scab. The rest of his arm was covered in dirty bandages, and he could feel the ache in his shoulder where he'd been shot... how long ago? He wasn't sure.

"No touch," Gray said gruffly, holding his wrist to his chest. "Can't hurt."

"I'm worried it's going to get infected," Rogue explained calmly. "What if I put the bandages on the bed and you do it? Is that okay? I can explain what to do?"

Gray dropped his head back down and whined – a low, sad, frustrated sound. It would hurt. It always hurt. Everything hurt.

"Gray, plea—"

"No." Gray pushed himself further into the corner and hugged his knees to his chest. "Leave me alone."

~

"We can't just drug him," Rogue hissed under his breath, glancing over at Gray. He was sitting against the wall, eyes vacant as he picked at the now-infected wound on his wrist.

"He's going to die of sepsis if we don't clean those wounds," Sting argued. "He's already got a fever, and he needs a shower. It's been a week – we have to do something." He sighed. "A guy I work with got me those sleep patches. It'll knock him out for a few hours. Long enough to wash him up and bandage those wounds."

Rogue exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sting was right, of course, but he didn't want to betray Gray's trust. Gray still wouldn't let either of them anywhere near him, and he refused to eat for fear of being drugged. He barely slept, and when he did it was filled with nightmares.

"You distract him and I'll grab him, okay?" Sting squeezed Rogue's arm gently. "It's for his own good."

Rogue sighed, grabbing a plate with some hard biscuits on it and making his way over to Gray. Gray didn't respond, just kept mumbling to himself. Rogue forced himself not to make a face – Gray smelled awful, and the wound on his wrist and on his arm were both bright red and weeping.

"Hungry?" Rogue asked gently, trying to get Gray's attention. Sting approached from the other side, 'derm in hand. "C'mon, love, you haven't eaten in almost a week."

"Not hungry," Gray replied, eyes slightly glassy. He glanced up at Rogue and Sting took the opportunity to lunge in from the side, wrapping an arm around Gray's throat and slapping the patch to the side of his neck.

"Shhhh, go to sleep," Sting whispered as Gray flailed in his arms, eyes wide and teeth bared.

"OFF!" Gray screamed, scrabbling at Sting's arm around his neck. Rogue stepped forward and grabbed Gray's hands, holding them firmly against his chest. "Off! Let go! Don't touch!" Gray's eyes were quickly filling with tears and Rogue's heart started to break. "Please. Don't touch. P-ple... se..." Gray's voice trailed off and within seconds he was sound asleep in Sting's arms.

The scrub room was tiny, making washing up difficult, but Rogue managed to bring the unconscious Gray in with him, settling him on the floor against the wall while Rogue cleaned him. The various scars revealed by peeling off Gray's dirty clothes made Rogue sick, and he made sure to clean the still-healing wounds as gently as possible.

With the supplies Sting got from his friend they were able to disinfect and bandage the wounds on Gray's arm, wrist and shoulder, and he had even managed to swipe a couple weeks' worth of doxy to help with the infection, which were given via another 'derm on the side of Gray's neck. They decided to give him a second sleep patch, so he didn't wake again until the next day.

"Don't touch it," Rogue said firmly when Gray woke up and saw the bandages on his arm. Gray looked around, confused, and when he reached for them again, Rogue repeated, "Don't. Touch." He struggled to keep his voice authoritative and Gray withdrew his hand.

"Why?" Gray asked after a moment, voice almost petulant. "Said don't touch." Rogue had been expecting overt hostility when Gray woke up, so confused indignation was a step up from that.

"You were making yourself sick," Rogue explained, settling down close to the edge of the mattress. "We want to help you, but we can't watch you hurt yourself. And we didn't hurt you. Do you feel better?"

Gray's face twitched in irritation, but it seemed like he was in a more amicable mood than before. Maybe the sleep had helped.

"Some," he said begrudgingly. His stomach growled and he looked embarrassed.

"Come eat," Rogue said, standing up slowly. "I promise it's not drugged. You can watch me make it." Gray pushed himself to his feet and then staggered as a wave of dizziness hit him. He placed a hand on the wall, shying away from Rogue's outstretched hand. "You okay?"

Gray grunted in response, following Rogue out of the tiny bedroom and taking a seat at the kitchen table. Rogue pulled something toward him and began to slice it with a knife.

"Here, we managed to get some fruit someone smuggled in from Upper. Remember pears?"

"Not stupid," Gray grumbled, irritation clear on his face. Rogue placed the plate on the opposite side of the table and let Gray slide it cautiously over to himself. He sniffed the fruit suspiciously before taking a small bite.

"Good?" Rogue asked, and Gray nodded. "Can I sit with you?" Gray swallowed and glanced across the table – it was tiny, barely big enough for two people, which meant it put Rogue too close to him. Rogue could see the struggle on Gray's face, but he finally looked up and gave a small nod. "Thank you."

They sat in silence while they ate, and Rogue was extremely conscious of not touching Gray's legs under the table. After they finished eating, Rogue reached out for Gray's plate, sighing when he flinched.

"Gray," Rogue said gently. "I think you know that I'm not going to hurt you." Gray frowned, looking like he was going to growl at Rogue again. He'd backed his chair up against the far wall, which still didn't put him very far away, and his eyes were widened in fear. "Gray. I'm your friend. Not all touch hurts. Remember before?"

"Before..." Gray repeated, blinking and thinking back to Natsu – holding him, kissing him, twining their fingers together and... it hadn't hurt. He swallowed, trying not to let his hands tremble. "Natsu," he whispered.

"Yeah," Rogue said softly. "He's still alive." Gray looked up hopefully. "We saw him before we were taken. He lost his arm – most of it – but he's doing okay. He misses you." Gray reached up and touched the ring on its chain around his neck. His fingers were too thin to wear it now.

"Revik..." Gray began, his voice hoarse. "Hurt. All the time." His hands trembled and he blinked back tears. "I c-can't... I know... but I'm...scared." He shivered, then slowly reached out his hand across the table, wincing and looking away. "Please... don't hurt."

"I could never hurt you, love," Rogue said gently, reaching out and brushing his fingers across the back of Gray's outstretched hand. Gray flinched, ready to recoil, but the touch continued, soft and gentle. Rogue's fingers traced a pattern on his palm, then brushed the inside of his wrist. "See? I'll never hurt you."

Gray let the gentle touches continue for another few seconds, then withdrew his hand shakily, breathing heavily.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Too much."

"Hey, it's okay," Rogue murmured, moving to crouch down next to Gray without touching him. "We're gonna get through this, I promise."

~

Six Months Later

"You okay?"

Sting looked up as Gray slipped into the stack quietly, kicking off his boots and then standing there, awkwardly. His hair was growing back – choppy and uneven, but better than before. His eyes were still haunted and his skin was still scarred, but at least he was sort of functioning.

"Too many people," Gray explained shortly, crossing his arms over his stomach. Sting reached out for him and he hesitated, then took the hand and let Sting pull him into the bedroom.

"You did good," Sting praised, settling on the bed and crossing his legs. He gestured for Gray to sit next to him, running gentle fingers up and down his arm the whole time. He and Rogue had figured out that if touch was used in conjunction with praise, it was better received. Gray still refused to let anyone else touch him and had the occasional panic attack in crowded places, but in the privacy of the stack he was much more willing.

"Stupid," Gray muttered under his breath. Sting was concerned that he still seemed to speak in fragments – very rarely did he utter full sentences. It was as if each word cost him something. It probably had, Sting supposed. "Should... before, was okay."

"But it's not before," Sting said, running his hand up to Gray's shoulder. Gray tensed – that wound had taken a long time to heal and it still bothered him sometimes – but eventually he let Sting brush his fingers against the side of his neck.

"Miss him." Gray looked down at the floor, reaching up and rubbing his fingers over the ring under his shirt. "But..."

"But what, love?" Rogue appeared in the doorway, shaking out his long hair. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the second mattress, which largely went unused now. Gray had appeared at the side of their bed one night, eyes full of tears, and Rogue had pulled him down between them. Since then it had been an unspoken agreement that they slept in the same bed.

"Just..." Gray made a frustrated sound, tipping his head toward Sting's hand. Sting ran a thumb over his cheek gently and Gray sighed. "Like this. Like you." His face flushed as Rogue crouched down beside him, smiling gently.

"We like you too," he said, running a hand up Gray's thigh. Gray shivered, closing his eyes and exhaling softly. He reached out tentatively and ran a hand through Rogue's hair.

"Like... your touch. Not others, just you." He flicked his eyes to Sting. "Both of you." Sting hummed and leaned in slowly, touching their foreheads together. Gray took a shaky breath, feeling a hot spike of panic run through him. What was this going to cost him?

"Nothing," Rogue said, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "It's only if you want it, love."

"Want it," Gray insisted, chest trembling. Rogue's hand drifted up his thigh again, caressing his hip and then splaying across his stomach. This was something that Revik had never taken. All the beating and the flaying and the drowning and the drugs had never led to this being taken away from him.

"Can I?" Sting whispered, nudging Gray's nose with his own. Gray let out a soft breath and nodded, and then Sting's lips were on his, pressing insistently, soft and hot and gentle. Gray moaned into Sting's mouth, feeling Rogue's hand on his other hip, shifting between Gray's legs.

"You're doing so good," Rogue murmured, pressing a hand against Gray's stomach and encouraging him to lie back. Sting followed him, keeping his lips on Gray's and one hand in his hair. "Let us take care of you."

Sting's tongue coaxed Gray's lips open and he whimpered, reaching up and fisting a hand in Sting's hair. Sting hummed, biting down gently on Gray's lip and then tipping his head to the side, trailing soft kisses down the side of Gray's neck.

"Please," Gray whispered, feeling Rogue tug up his shirt and begin to kiss his stomach, ignoring the scars as he dragged his lips over the uneven skin. Gray squirmed – his pants were too tight; he was so, so hard and he couldn't breathe.

"Okay?" Rogue asked, fingers flicking over the button of Gray's pants.

"Yes, yes, yes," Gray gasped, bucking up into Rogue's palm as Sting's teeth sank gently into his neck. "Harder," he demanded, and Sting chuckled, pressing down and just barely breaking the skin. "Gnnnghh..."

This was something all his own – something he didn't have to give up, or beg for, or be afraid of. Rogue and Sting cared for him and were gentle with him and kept him safe. And gods, he loved them. He loved Natsu, still, and the thought of his beautiful smile made Gray's chest ache, but he was gone, unreachable on the other side of the Wall. And he was so good, so pure, he couldn't love the filthy mess that Gray had become. But Rogue and Sting could, and they were making him feel so, so good.

Rogue slid Gray's pants down and slowly took Gray's cock into his mouth, holding his hips down so he couldn't buck up. Gray grabbed a handful of Rogue's hair and tugged – not rough, like some of his clients, but just enough to let him know that it felt good.

"Mmm," Sting hummed, nipping at Gray's earlobe. "Feels good, yeah? He's so good at that. I bet you are, too." Gray groaned, throwing his head back as Sting leaned down and tugged his shirt up higher, then closed his mouth around Gray's nipple and bit down, hard.

Gray's sounds were incoherent as Sting pinched his other nipple as he sucked, flicking his tongue gently over the one he'd bitten. "F-feels... ahh... "

"You'll have to remember this," Sting growled, moving his mouth to the other side of Gray's chest. "This is what Rogue likes. Next time you can do it to him." Gray groaned at the thought of pleasuring Rogue, pressing him down into the bed and toying with him until he came. "You like that, huh?" Sting's hand joined Gray's in Rogue's hair, brushing though it gently as Rogue bobbed up and down on Gray's cock. "And this is what I like," Sting continued. Gray felt the edges of Rogue's sharp teeth scraping against the side of his cock and he cried out, trying to push up his hips but unable to move against Rogue's strong grip. "So next time you can try sucking my cock, if you want."

"Yes," Gray gasped, feeling the warm sensation of release deep in his stomach. "C-can't... I'm g-gonna..."

"Let go," Sting whispered, moving back up to Gray's lips and kissing him hard enough to nick him with his teeth. "It's okay. You're safe. Let it feel good."

"Gnnghh... aaah!" Gray threw his head back as he came, shuddering and jerking into Rogue's mouth. Rogue continued sucking and licking until Gray whined from the over-sensitivity. Then Rogue leaned back and wiped his mouth, pressing a kiss to Gray's hip. Gray couldn't find words, just relaxed into the heavy sense of bliss that enveloped him.

"Looks like we'll have to take care of each other this time," Sting rumbled, pulling Rogue towards him and kissing him. His hand snaked down to wrap around Rogue's cock and Rogue groaned, deepening the kiss. "You wanna watch?" The question was directed to Gray, who let out an enthusiastic moan.

So he watched. Watched as Sting pressed Rogue onto his stomach and licked him until he was wet and writhing. Watched Sting finger Rogue open, then slide his cock into Rogue slowly, showing off for Gray. Watched him reach around and stroke Rogue as they rocked together, listened to their moans filling the small stack, gazed at their faces as they found their release in each other.

Afterward they all collapsed on the bed, Rogue nudging Gray until he was in between the two of them. Sting kissed him softly, brushing hair from his face, while Rogue wrapped an arm around his stomach and nuzzled the back of his neck.

"You with us?" Sting asked gently. They'd been asking that for months now, making sure Gray was here instead of there.

"Verda," Gray replied softly, and Sting smiled.

"We'll keep you safe, love," Rogue whispered, tightening his grip on Gray. "We'll care for you and make sure nothing hurts you again. Ni amas vin." Gray exhaled, covering Rogue's hand with his own.

"I love you two, too," Gray replied sleepily, feeling warm and safe between them. "Dankau pro savi mian vivon."

-----

Underspeak Translations

Maitea = sweetheart
Mi amas vin = I love you
Verda = I'm okay ('green')
Sankta sô = holy hell
Cesu = stop
Mia amo = my love
Vi estas mirinda = You're amazing
Ni amas vin = We love you
Dankon pro savi mian vivon = Thank you for saving my life