Commissioned by @summylise! Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy it <3
Works count: 7.5K
PS: If you want to feel like I felt, when you get to the fifth scene, start playing “Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles!
Natsu stares through the glass, throat tight as he drinks in the sight of her, mapping every new curve and freckle on her skin. She’s still as beautiful as he remembers, even after all these years, but that’s not what matters to him. No, she’s alive, and that’s more than he could have hoped for. Lucy’s alive and here and he can see her chest moving with every breath she takes, her lips pursed in defiance as she stares down Detective Clive, her gaze bright and as intelligent and shrewd as he remembers. She looks absolutely fierce and he chokes up at the sight, releasing a shaky exhale and wiping at his eyes when Gray isn’t looking.
He just wishes that she wasn’t sitting on the opposite side of the interrogation room’s glass.
“It’s really her,” Natsu murmurs, voice low and gruff, more strained than he’s ever heard it. His palm presses against the glass, throat tightening with emotion when Lucy glances around the room, brushing her long hair away from her eyes. She looks at the glass—to her, a mirror—and, though unknowingly, her gaze locks with his, honey eyes softening just the slightest, as if she knows he’s staring back at her. “She’s alive,” he continues, more to himself than anything.
The look Gray sends him is sympathetic and Natsu hates it, but he keeps his mouth shut, knowing he won’t be let in if he picks a fight with Gray over nothing. God, he’s missed her, and she’s right here in front of him, and he can’t do anything. He barely hears Gray’s affirmative, turning to look at his partner quickly, the question slipping from his lips without him meaning to ask. “Can I talk to her?” he asks, voice cracking.
He knows his chances aren’t good. She’s gotten into something deep, something dangerous, but he’ll be damned before he lets her disappear again. He needs to talk to her—needs to touch her and make sure this isn’t just a dream. He’s had them before. He knows how real they can be, but in his head she always disappears before he can hold her, before he can tell her that he—
“That’s why we called you in,” Gray tells him, clapping him on the back and sending him a small, strained smile. He knows. Gray’s been with him since their academy days, so he knows: about Lucy, about the night she disappeared, about the six years Natsu spent trying to find her, hoping to whatever gods might be up there that she’d come home.
He simply nods, not trusting himself to speak. Gray reaches out, tapping on the glass three times in rapid succession. Gildarts glances up, looking towards the door. He murmurs something to Lucy, who frowns, expression twisting into one of confusion. She watches Gildarts stand, his back to her as he leaves the room.
The door clicks open, Gildarts slipping through. He gives Natsu a brief nod before turning to Gray, dismissing him, and Natsu takes the chance to slip through the door without another word.
She doesn’t notice him at first, her gaze directed at the table. It’s not until he walks up to the table, coming around to stand on her side and ignoring the offered chair, that she looks up, gaze hard and icy. She recognizes him a moment later, the ferocity leaving her expression as she stares up at him. Lucy’s mouth drops open, lips parting just the slightest when she sees him. She mouths his name, eyes never leaving his as she twists around to face him.
Natsu just stands there, drinking her in, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but knowing that he can’t—shouldn’t. She’s in here because she’s been arrested, and he knows that things aren’t the same as they were six years ago. They aren’t about to curl up together on his couch, watching movies until the A.M. and stealing kisses between scenes. God, but he wishes they were. Six years he’s spent missing her, six years he’s spent wondering if she was even alive, now here she is, and Natsu can’t even touch her.
She leans back in her chair, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her eyes glisten when she sees him, and he almost reaches out to wipe away her tears, catching himself at the last moment. Her gaze drifts to the scar on his throat, something new, and he sees her cringe, something horrified creeping into her eyes. “Natsu Dragneel,” she breathes, voice quivering as she tastes his name on her tongue.
He wonders if she repeats it to herself at night like he does, whispering her name in the darkness, lest he forget how it sounds.
“So you do remember me,” he jokes, voice cracking. There’s no humor to it. Neither laugh at his pathetic attempt, but he does see a familiar light reach her eyes, brightening them. Her lips quirk at the edges, not quite a smile, but as close as he thinks he’ll get. He wets his lips, hand pressed against the tabletop to ground himself—to keep him from pulling her into his arms and never letting go.
He never wants to let go.