My first deathfic for the pairing. One-shot. I hope you like it!

She was laying on the ground. The cold, hard ground. She felt like she was on cobblestones, or just on a stone path. Mirajane didn't know where she was, nor did she care. Did she remember how she got to this point…?

…No. Not really.

The white-haired takeover mage did, however, know full well that she was dying. The dull, throbbing ache in her chest and the stickiness over that whole area made it a sure thing. She remembered getting pierced there, but that's about when her memory of that fight cut out. The face of her opponent couldn't even be brought to mind. But here was a normally cheerful woman, the beloved barmaid of Fairy Tail, laying in the streets somewhere, cold and dying, with no one there to make the passing even just a little easier.

It hurt.

Sure, the dying part was scary. What would happen to Elfman and Lisanna once she was gone? How would they cope with losing her? Elfman especially, since he had practically lost Lisanna once already. The manly man would probably be utterly crushed, and devastated, and Mirajane didn't want him to be. All she ever wanted for her brother was his happiness, and now that he was happily married to Evergreen, with a child on the way, and she had expected that things would all be okay. But here was the oldest aunt to the unborn child, wasting away in the streets.

She wouldn't even get to say a few last words to them.

Mira couldn't even cry.

Fairy Tail…what would they do without her? How would they cope? They were like an extended family to her, all seeming like younger siblings, even if Macau and Wakaba were older than she was. She didn't want to leave them all alone.

But then again, they wouldn't be alone. The only one who was alone was Mirajane; dying alone, with no one to carry a few words to her siblings, or to him. And it hurt, the idea that she'd be dying alone. If she was going to die in a fight on Fairy Tail's behalf, Mira had always expected to be surrounded by all of that 'family' as she faded away. This end was immensely different from that end, and it left a hollow, empty hole in her heart that was unrelated to the hole in her chest.

It then struck her that she should try to get up. Maybe she had enough strength to go to them, or at least make her way to an inhabited area so that someone could take a message to the guild. And so the white-haired woman tried to push herself up.

Her weak arms lifted her three inches off the ground, before a shooting pain from her chest racked her entire body and she collapsed, limply, back to the street.

If Mirajane had not been aware of her condition and had not believe that she was about to die, this helplessness and inability to move would have solidified it. She would have understood completely. As it was, she'd already known and even if she had not embraced the fact, she had reluctantly accepted it. There was nothing she could do but that, and then she had to lie there helplessly as the last seconds of her life ticked away. No matter how her breath rattled, it still persisted. Her heart had not slowed to a stop, and the useless final minutes of her life dragged on, painfully slowly yet all too fast.

She had not opened her eyes. Was it night, or day, or somewhere in between? If it was day, she was in a shaded place, for no sun beat down upon her pale figure. Or if it did, she was just so numb that she didn't feel it.

Mirajane didn't hear the footsteps come around the corner until they faltered, then turned into running steps. Feet slapped the stone street and a muffled thump sounded. She felt the impact of the person, whoever they were, dropping to his or her knees right beside her. She didn't know who, or what, it was, but she figured it was a person. As if through water, she heard shaky breathing that wasn't her own.

Hands that were trembling violently reached down to cup Mira's face, and she let herself groan, weakly, whilst prying her eyes open. In front of her was nothing but a blur of colors; green, a flesh tone, and a deep red that reminded her of the blood she was spilling. There was a person here with her, then; she actually wouldn't have to die alone, like she'd been fearing. She wouldn't have to suffer through her last moments with no human contact, and maybe now she could force her voice to come out. She could pass on a message.

"Mirajane…?"

Oh, lord. It was him. Of all people, it had to be him. In some ways, the dying woman had so desperately wanted it to be her lover, but in a hundred others she had vainly hoped that it would be someone else. But, she reasoned with herself, she'd like it if his voice was the last thing that she ever heard; his face the last thing she saw; his touch the last thing she felt on this green earth. And so she was glad for the company and blinked in an attempt to clear her vision. After four or five flutters, her eyelids lifted with a struggle and she could see him, clearly. Hovering over her, his eyes already filling with tears, was the man she loved: Fried Justine.

"F…Fried…" she managed. It was more a croak than a voice, but he reacted to her voice by stroking her blood-streaked hair.

"God…Mira…" he choked out, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers. His reaction let her know that she had been right; she was much too far gone to be saved. His breath came in shaky bursts, his eyes glazed with the tears he had yet to release. "I…I've been looking all over…since they attacked. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, Mira…"

He was blaming himself. She didn't want that.

"Not…your fault," she told him, and with a valiant effort, she managed to drag her hand up and place it on his on her cheek. "At least…you're here…now."

He knew what she was saying. She'd expressed her fear of dying alone to him before, and she knew he'd not leave her. When she was gone, he'd probably even take her into his own arms and carry her back to their 'family'. Everyone would get to say final farewells. They would all know that she was dead and why she had died. Her fears of dying alone and unknown were completely abated when she knew it was not to be.

"Mira…" he whispered. Her breaths had finally started to sound of a death rattle; her end was near. "I love you, Mira," he choked out. She was glad to hear him say it once more.

"I…love you, too…" she managed, a painful cough making her numb. "And…Lisanna…and Elfman…and Ever…and the baby…" she listed those closest to her, and with a wistful smile up at the green-haired man, her husband, she said, "…and tell the twins…that Mommy will be…watching over them…okay?"

"I will, Mira," he said, taking one of her hands in both of his own. Then he placed a hand back on her cheek while still holding the other and pressed a final, loving kiss to his dying wife's lips. "I promise you."

Mirajane smiled one final time and had the breath enough to say, "Thank you…Fried…" before her eyes slid closed, her hand went limp and her head lolled to one side.

Even in death, the white-haired woman was the epitome of beauty. Fried sent up a silent prayer that their one-year-old daughter would grow up just as beautiful as her mother, although she had his hair. And he prayed that her twin brother would grow up with the same gentleness that his mother had possessed, just as he had the same white hair. And as the loving father and husband that he was, Fried promised that he would never let her sacrifice be forgotten. The angel of his life would now be his guardian angel, he knew, and although he'd rather she was by his side, he knew she was always with him in spirit.

It would have to suffice, though it would never be enough.

MiFri deathfic 1; completed.

I don't know why I decided to write a Mira/Fried deathfic. Or why I gave them kids. I just did; that's the only answer I have. But I'm kind of proud of this, even if it seems a little weird. But whatever.

Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, please tell!