Gray stumbled on through the maze, plodding forward. His fingers were numb from holding them out, following the bushy wall with fierce determination crackling in his eyes. His legs dragged wearily from all the running earlier. He was not worried about time anymore. He just knew he had to keep going, one step at a time, continuing forward to the end. Each step brought him closer to the end of this nightmarish ordeal.

Suddenly, Gray stumbled and fell to his knees. He coughed harshly, and blood sprayed out of his mouth. He realized that the poison was really starting to take hold. He knew the effects of bloodberries, having grown up around here and hearing horror stories about them. He was not sure how long he had, it was different for every person, but he guessed he did not have much more than a few hours left. If he was going to find Lucy, he needed to keep going, keep pushing himself, until his very last breath.

"Lucy," he groaned. Thinking of her gave him strength. He grabbed hold of the bushes and forcefully pulled himself up, tearing the skin on his hands as he yanked himself to his feet again. He plodded onward. His vision blurred. Everything was spinning, swaying, tumbling with moments of darkness. He was hardly even sure if he was following the correct wall anymore. It felt like he was walking upside-down sometimes. Still, he kept one hand to the wall and followed it, no matter what his senses told him.

He had not felt the bitterness of losing in a long time, and now that shame was increased by failing Lucy's faith in him. He felt like frosting over this entire damn maze and watching it shatter into snow. Although he lost to this sadistic maze game, he was not about to give up entirely. One way or another, he would get back Lucy, even if he had to fight Willie Whitehall all by himself...

...in his weakened state ... half-starved ... slowly dying from poison.

It didn't matter!

At last, he saw a massive gateway of crystal and silver. Just beyond that arch was a snow-covered hill gleaming in the moonlight, and on top of the hill was a cabin with smoke rising from a chimney. Someone lived there. He stopped holding onto the wall now. Gray ran, not as fast as before, but his legs moved as quickly as he could go, just to get out of this damn maze.

When he finally stepped out, it was almost too good to be true. No more passages, no more walls, just a wide open landscape. He was unsure if it was simply part of the magic, but the air smelled fresher here, as if the entire maze had been under some enchantment and now he was in the free, open air. He realized there was much more snow around, too. Probably, the end of the maze had no snow to prevent himself from seeing his own tracks. It was a devious trick from Whitehall.

"Lucy," he shouted. Despite his weariness, Gray ran up the hill. "Lucy!"

Suddenly, he tripped and landed face-first into the snow. Gray cursed. He almost ignored the obstacle so he could run to the cabin, but when he looked back to see what had tripped him...

He saw ... legs.

Frozen legs.

The snowfall had partly covered the lump of ice. He scampered over and brushed the flakes aside, exposing a short blue and white skirt. He brushed off more, flinging fresh snow left and right, until he unburied what appeared like a coffin of ice with Lucy frozen solid inside. Her body was rigidly straight, her hands folded over her chest, her eyes still gazing blankly ahead, wide open and unmoving. Her face was a captured moment in time, an odd expression on her lips, something like a sad smile that pained her whole face, as if right at the very end she realized she was not going to make it, yet still forgave him.

"Lucy," Gray screamed. He pounded on the ice. "Lucy! Dammit." He touched the clear barrier. It was cold, definitely ice, although it was so perfectly clear it could have been glass. "Hang in there."

He tried to force magic into the ice. This was his specialty, after all. He could manipulate anything frozen. So long as it was made of water, even blood could be frozen and shaped by Ice-Make magic.

Almost anything. He remembered an ice he couldn't directly manipulate.

Now again, although Gray could tell this was truly ice, something about it would not let him change the shape. He remembered in Sun Village, home of the giants, he had been able to at least use the unmeltable ice, flow its magic through his body. Not this time. For some reason, this ice was very different. Gray grunted and forced more magic into his attempt. If he could at least free her face...

He tried everything. He tried flowing the cold out, shifting the crystallization fractals, cracking it, condensing it, everything he could think of to manipulate this ice, if only a small part of it. Warm it up, freeze it more, shatter it, anything! Nothing worked. The ice did not even chip.

"Goddammit!" he shouted as nothing he tried would make the ice budge. Tears came to his eyes. "Come on! I made it here. Dammit, let me at least save her."

His magic circle grew wider, encircling both him and the frozen coffin. He saw the glow of magic make the ice glitter blue and light up Lucy's immobilized face, but not even a crack appeared in the frozen block.

"Come on!" he bellowed in rage.

Gray slammed both fists into the ice, hoping that if magic did not work, he could at least shatter it through brute strength. He pounded again and again, gritting his teeth hard, until a bone in his hand cracked from the pounding. Skin split, and his blood dripped over the crystalline block. Still, the ice did not even chip. It was a perfect rectangle, with Lucy frozen inside.

He looked at the blood and the splashes of teardrops on the coffin. Wearily, he swirled his hand. The tears and blood rose, swirled in the air, frosted over, and took the shape of a heart, only to shatter and crumble to the snowy ground. He could still manipulate normal water, even blood, but not this enchanted ice.

"Come on," he sobbed quietly in grief. He gazed down helplessly at her face. "Lucy..."

He collapsed across the coffin, resting his head in his folded arms, hiding the sobs that shook his shoulders. Gray blamed himself. He truly had failed her, and now he could not even free her. She was right here in front of him, but he could not break her out of this barrier. It was ice, for God's sake! Yet he was powerless. He wasn't quick enough, and now...

Now...

Opening his eyes, he could look down at her unmoving chest. She was not breathing. He saw no twitches of a pulse on her porcelain skin. He closed his eyes and sensed deeper inside the ice barrier. He sensed the frozen blood in her veins, stopped, no pulse to push the blood through that body.

Lucy was dead.

"Lucy ... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I..."

He pulled himself out of despair. There was no time for that. She had just recently been frozen, probably no more than fifteen minutes. Even if she had no pulse, a brain could survive for up to an hour after the heart stopped if the body was thoroughly frozen. Gray wiped his tears, grabbed up the icy chunk, and dragged it into the cabin. It was warm inside, and the smell of food made his stomach twist. Still, he heaved the ice chunk and set it down carefully by the fireplace, then tossed in more logs. He fixed the fire until it was roaring.

"The one time in my life that I wish that damn flame-brain was around," Gray muttered.

Gray waited, staring at the block of ice, then at the fire. It wasn't enough! He ran around the cabin and gathered every blanket he could find, then threw them all over the ice chunk. He ran to the kitchen and put a pot on to boil. As soon as it was bubbling, he brought the kettle to the chunk of ice. He poured the piping water right over her face, hoping to melt away at least her mouth so she could breathe. However, despite pouring the whole kettle on, the ice did not melt. He put more logs into the fireplace and pulled the ice closer, then closer. Still, the ice was not liquefying.

"Dammit, melt!" he shouted, and threw the ice coffin right into the middle of the hearth. The flames were all around Lucy's body, making her hair glow orange and red, but still the ice did not even sweat a little.

He could not bear to watch her amidst flames, like a tortured soul in Hell. He pulled the encased body out. The ice coffin was not even hot to the touch, still icy despite being in the middle of the fire. He set Lucy's body on the warm bricks around the fireplace.

"What should I do?" he asked aloud, as if maybe the answer would magically appear.

How long after the timer ran out had he wandered the labyrinth? A quarter of an hour? Fifteen minutes! Just fifteen minutes, and he would have been in time.

"Dammit. Why wasn't I fast enough?" He glared down angrily. "And why did you try to leave the cabin? Couldn't you have waited for me? Didn't you trust that I'd make it in time? If you had just waited until morning, I would have been here. I'm not about to abandon you. You know me better than that, Lucy. So, why did you run out? Why did you break the rules? And why wasn't I just a little quicker?"

If he had not paused to rest his feet, or if he had slept a little less...

No use wallowing in guilt. If he had been in the maze for fifteen minutes, then Lucy had forty-five minutes before her brain completely shut down.

But what could he possibly do in that amount of time? He could not make it back out and get help. He was not going to leave her alone. He sat by her icy casket and gazed at her motionless face.

"Hey, Lucy. I wonder if you can hear me. They say patients in a coma can hear the people around them. I wonder if it's the same for you, frozen like this. I wonder if you can still hear me through this ice. I hope you can."

He sighed, then smiled.

"You know, the first time you walked into the guild, I thought you were rather cute. When Erza made the team and I got to work with you, I was really happy. I didn't want to show it, of course, especially not with that flame-brain around, but working with you, getting to see you so much ... made me happy. I went from thinking you were a bit cute to thinking you really were lovely. Graceful." He gazed upon her frozen face. "Beautiful," he whispered, caressing the ice block right over where her cheek was.

He gave a heavy sigh, and blinked his eyes clear. Still, the tears spilled over, and he sniffled up his nose.

"I had fun," he said wistfully. "Being with you ... it was a lot of fun. I can't imagine not seeing your smile." He held the icy block. "I'm not going to let you go," he swore, then shouted angrily, "I just wish I knew what to do! How do I break you out of this?"

He looked at her body, trapped in an element he thought he had mastered, but not to this degree. It made him feel so impotent and useless.

"Are you still alive in there?" he asked softly. "Lucy..."

He pulled the chunk of ice up into his lap and stared down at her eyes, left open in their last moment.

"Lucy," he whispered, caressing the ice right over her face. "Come back to me, please. I—"

He stopped his words. He had no right to confess to her now, not when he failed her.

"I want you back with me," he sighed.

With anguish, Gray realized there was nothing he could do to break this magic. He stood and marched out the door. The moonlight glittered on the snow, with a few flakes still falling from clouds that scuttled by. Somewhere out there in the darkness was Willie Whitehall's mansion. He did not know where, though, and it was too dark to see. He felt like rushing out there and searching for him, but he did not want to leave Lucy alone, helpless as she was.

This game was over, so what happened now? He hoped Willie Whitehall himself would come to collect his prize. Gray would fight him. He was unsure how good he could fight in his condition, his vision blurring, his legs going numb, but he would still fight. He would battle that sick wizard with everything he had! He would stand right in front of Lucy's frozen tomb and defend it. If Whitehall wanted her, he would take the block of ice away with Gray's blood spilled over it.

He did not want to think about that, though. He truly was unsure if he had the strength to fight, but maybe if he fought the man who cast the spell and defeated him, Lucy would be set free. He just had to wait for Whitehall to show up.

For now, Gray needed his strength. If he was going to confront Whitehall, he had to be ready to fight, not dizzy, weak, and half-starved like he was right now. He went back inside the cabin and to the kitchen. He found it well-stocked with food and supplies. He grabbed a muffin baked the day before and gnawed into it, devouring it hungrily. There was orange juice, and he drank it straight from the carton, chugging it down, with juice dripping down his chin. Any food around, he crammed it into his mouth, eating voraciously. Then finally, sated a bit, he started up some coffee. There was even creamer and sugar. It was nice to know Lucy had spent the past few days living in peace.

He walked around the cabin, searching for clues, and just trying to stay awake despite it being 4:30 A.M. However, as he walked into the bedroom, Gray was hit with dizziness. His vision went blurry, and the world tipped to the side. He grabbed hold of the wall, trying to keep himself from falling. He began to pant and sweat, his stomach cramped up, and he felt ready to vomit.

"Oh God, I ... feel ... n-no!" He ran back to the main room, unable to see clearly or walk straight. He crashed into a lamp, sending it shattering to the ground. He grabbed the wall, clutching it and shaking his head as the room went spinning. His ears rang like a fire klaxon. Spots danced in his eyes. Gray stumbled and crashed on top of the block of ice.

His vision blurred, blackened, then focused for only a few seconds to see Lucy's golden hair, before blurring again.

"Lu- ... -cy," he whispered. "Won't ... leave you..."

He draped his body over the chunk of ice, hugging it, and clung on desperately as darkness swallowed up his consciousness.

Gray jolted awake with a gasp, as if he had not been breathing. He coughed, then suddenly he turned aside and vomited. Bile and blood heaved out of his mouth and splashed onto the embers of the fireplace.

"I'm dying," he stated blandly. "Those berries, they're finally hitting me. Isn't that ironic, Lucy? Even if I free you, I'm gonna die. What a lame ending that'll make for the Ice-Make wizard of Fairy Tail."

He sat up and realized it was morning. Sunlight poured through the sheer curtains. Outside, the snow glistened with dawn. With a jolt, Gray searched around for the nearest clock.

Three hours had passed.

"No!" he screamed. He dropped to his knees beside the ice coffin. "Lucy! No ... oh God, no!"

After only one hour being frozen even under the most ideal conditions, brain death occurred. She had been like this for nearly four hours, not breathing, no heartbeat. Any hope he had of resuscitating her was now gone. As he stared down at her motionless face, the truth did not feel real.

Lucy was dead.

There was no way to bring her back.

Even if he freed her, she was truly gone.

His head rose to the ceiling, and Gray screamed in anger and self-hatred. Up until that moment, he had held on to hope; however, the coming dawn arrived, not with a streak of light to ease his darkness, but with a deeper shadow to cover everything in despair.

Lucy was truly dead.

"This can't be happening. It can't be. Please, let this all be a dream. Please."

He turned away from the frozen block. He could not look down at her face. He felt unworthy of even gazing upon her. He had not only failed to come to Lucy on time, but he ruined his one chance at saving her by, of all things, passing out in weakness.

He could not stand being beside her, seeing her frozen in death. He fled to the kitchen, sobbing and angrily hitting anything in his way. He wanted to tear the whole damn cabin apart in frosty rage. Instead, he collapsed against a refrigerator, still weak from the poison. He stood there, leaning against the cold door for support, wiping tears as they tumbled down his pale cheeks.

"This can't be real. Oh God, please let this be a hallucination. It's the poison, right? This is just a nightmare. I need to wake up. I need to wake myself before time really does run out."

He pinched his arm. It hurt, but he was still standing in the silent kitchen.

"Please, let me wake up. Let this just be a dream."

Gray slapped his own face as hard as he could, but still he was awake.

"Dammit! I need to wake up. Need ... to save her."

He slammed his head against the refrigerator hard enough to dent the door. Although it almost knocked himself out, he was still there, and the sun was still shining outside. He felt something wet dripping down his forehead, reached up, and saw blood on his fingers. He was definitely awake. He was not dreaming.

"Oh God, no," he whispered. "This can't—" He felt a wave a dizziness again. "Can't be happening. It can't be."

Then he saw that the coffee had brewed long ago and was now almost too strong to drink. Mindlessly, wrapped up in despair, Gray fixed himself a cup anyway. He was not about to fall asleep again.

He sipped the strong coffee and wandered around the cabin again. This was where Lucy had spent her last days. She also apparently had a caretaker. That was nice to know. She was not alone the whole time, and by the look of things, she had lived in comfort. That was reassuring to Gray. At least she had not suffered like he had.

He felt dizzy again and sat at the dining table. He noticed there was a monitor. It showed only the outside of the cabin now, lit up with early morning light. He realized Lucy must have been watching him the whole time. It made sense, a way to mentally torture her. That was why she was desperate enough to risk leaving the cabin and coming after him.

He saw that the screen had two counters. One was at zero, so that was the counter to show how much time he had to make it through the maze. The other had three more hours. Gray stared at that counter, wondering what that meant. Was that how soon Whitehall would come? Gray really wanted to kick that man's ass now.

Then in a shiver of realization, Gray figured it out. There was a little heart by the finished counter, and a tiny skull by the three-hour counter. Skull: the sign of death and poisons. That counter was for himself. As dizziness hit him again and his stomach cramped nauseously, he realized the counter was probably accurate. He had only a few hours before the poison killed him.

"Three hours and ten minutes, huh?" he muttered, staring at the counter. It suddenly clicked to nine minutes. "I should make the best of it."

He took his coffee and trudged wearily back to the hearth. He knelt by the block of ice, right by Lucy's head, and stared down at her motionless face.

"If I only have thee hours left, then I'll keep guarding you. I can't do much more than that at this point. Even if I couldn't save you, I'll protect you. I won't let your body fall to that madman. I'll make sure you make it back to Fairy Tail ... if