===Chapter 9===

Identities

Levy hurried outside, followed by a gaggle of curious onlookers. Lily kept trying to check on her, but she shrugged him off. She was a bit traumatised, but she wasn't hurt. Jetson was already there, standing just outside of the pool of blood with Constable Macao.

The Slayer had made a grisly scene even in death. It was horrible, but Levy would not let anyone else do her duty. She gingerly stepped through the blood, squatting near the Slayer's head. Trembling hands reached out and unhooked the mask. She removed it.

It was Rogue.

Staring back at her with a vacant, slack, almost fish-like expression, but very definitely Rogue Cheney. Levy stared for a moment, not really sure what to do. This didn't answer anything as to his motives and methods. What had driven him to do this thing?

Levy sighed deeply. This was her goal, but it didn't feel like she wanted it. This was a bright young man with a promising future. Why had he thrown it away?

But…Gajeel was innocent! Levy clung on to that fact. Perhaps something good had come out of this mess.

===][===

A week had passed. There had been disappointingly little closure of events. Rogue's family, his friends and associates had no insight into the events that had happened. Perhaps they'd never know, and perhaps that was a good thing. Understanding the mind of a madman was not a pleasant occupation.

Now Levy was tackling her most difficult task: Mira dressing her up. Levy was not used to acting feminine, but Mira was more than happy to do anything to aid young love. Now that Levy thought about it, Gajeel had never seen her in a dress, and she was embarrassed.

Walking down the high street towards his shop she passed a florist. Should she buy some flowers for him? No! Boys bought flowers for girls, not the other way around! Levy rubbed her forehead in annoyance. She was so bad at being a girl!

In the end, she bought a single rose and tucked it through her headband. She thought that it looked cute and hoped that Gajeel would agree. Her face went bright pink as she stood in front of the blacksmith. Had she always been this shy? No, it was him making her like this.

She opened the front door in a frantic panic, eager to just get this over and done with. Gajeel was hammering away at his anvil, sure as ever. He looked at her, and to Levy's amazement, he blushed before looking back at his work.

"You look…nice this evening," he said tonelessly.

"Thank you," she replied with a big smile, not put off by his demeanour. "I suppose the correct response is that you look rugged and manly."

"Tch, stop being so wordy and clever, Shorty."

"I have told you my name," Levy replied, frowning slightly.

"I prefer Shorty." Gajeel chuckled as he put down his tools and removed his apron. He went over to stand next to Levy, looking down. "It suits you more!"

"I…I have never met a more trying man," Levy admitted, trying to hold her temper in check. "But I always knew that you were no gentleman."

"No, I'm a wild man, and you love it, right?" Gajeel grinned and suddenly slipped an arm around Levy's waist, drawing her close. She stammered and went bright red. Gajeel reached down and kissed her, making her embarrassment ten times worse, but it was a wonderful experience.

"Come upstairs with me," Gajeel said, leading her by her hand.

"I am a lady!" Levy protested.

"No, you're a clever little brawler, you're no lady. Now, stop panicking. I'm not asking for anything improper. Just come upstairs." Gajeel led her up from his store front to his small apartment to his bedroom. It seemed so normal.

"Admit it; you were expecting murderer stuff in here, weren't you?" Gajeel asked with a crooked grin.

"Not at all. No murderer could have lacy pillows!" Levy giggled.

"They are not lacy," Gajeel murmured, unable to not respond to the insult to his male pride. "They were my grandmother's that's all."

"Your secret's safe with me!"

"My secret, eh?" Gajeel asked, reaching down to kiss her again. Levy closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment. As she felt him separate, she opened her eyes to gaze into his face and everything in her world changed. Gone was the Gajeel she knew to be replaced with a cruel, leering expression.

She just knew. She didn't have to wait to be told.

Gajeel's fist slammed into her head and she went over onto the wooden floor with a muffled squeak of pain. She curled up into the foetal position, unable to move over the tremendous pain in her head. Gajeel walked over and squatted, smiling triumphantly.

"Why, Gajeel?" She whimpered.

"No, sorry love. Gajeel's not home. You're talking to the Slayer now."

"W…what?" Levy asked. The Slayer reached down and yanked her head back by the hair to stare into her face. With his other hand he reached into his hair, pulling it back to reveal the scar running down the right side of his skull.

"They say that birth is painful. I can attest to that. My birth was excruciating."

"You…you mean…," Levy gasped.

"Head trauma. Impaired motor function. Loss of memory, unable to read. That's a discharge from the military. Ungrateful bastards. Poor Gajeel gave his life for them, and they toss him aside like so much trash."

"You talk in the third person."

"Wooo, Gajeel's right, you are a clever one. Yes, little girl, I am not Gajeel. I just rent the apartment in his head." The Slayer slammed Levy's head into the flooring and stood. He went over to a side table and poured himself a glass of scotch, calm as anything. "Don't hate him. He has no idea that I exist. Hell, I only recently became cogent enough to understand my unusual existence."

"Multiple personality disorder…," Levy mumbled, trying to lift herself on trembling arms.

"There you go with those big words again," the Slayer chuckled.

"Why!?" Levy shouted. "Why have you killed all of these people?"

"Oh, that? That's quite simple. You see; I am completely insane. Sometimes I need to torture, other times I just want to see blood. Sometimes I need things and people get in my way. I've been growing more and more lucid of late and it's quite a fascinating thing to observe from within." He took a shot of his drink and pursed his lips as he swallowed. "I think I'll be the dominant one soon."

"You can read…," Levy hissed, understanding flowing. "Gajeel can't write, but you can."

"Very good. I never lost that ability for some reason. The human mind is an interesting thing." The Slayer laughed, high pitched and frightening. He frowned. "But then I realised that someone was hunting me. Me!? Can you fucking believe that!? I had to take action."

"The man called Bixlow, the one you targeted."

"Yep. That was a learning experience. I learnt that the people I had killed had connections. A powerful mob boss wanted me dead and had sent men after me. Heh! Right about now, Mr Gildartz should be receiving a package. Mostly shrapnel, explosives and a trigger."

"The others are dead too, if you care," Levy said bitterly, still trying to pull herself upright. "Except Mr Justine. He's accepted a jail sentence."

"I'll get to him in time," the Slayer promised. "After all, I'm only one man!" He waited, but the girl didn't laugh at his humour. Maybe he was doing it wrong. He felt his anger rise. "But then I learnt some else was after me. This tiny, weakling wretch not only thought that she could best me, but humiliated me!"

"Heh, sorry that you have motion sickness," Levy said with a tiny smile of triumph. The Slayer struck like lightning, kicking her across the room like a football. She slammed into the wall with a horrific crack and slumped to the floor, mewling in pain.

"You bitch!" The Slayer snarled. "How dare you mock me? I am god!"

"No," Levy breathed, "You are an admitted figment of the imagination."

"You…," Gajeel's body snatched two objects from inside of a drawer and held them before Levy. One was a gun, the other a knife. "Go on, choose your mean of death."

"Why?"

"Because this day, it amuses me."

"But what about Rogue?" Levy insisted, desperate to stall for time.

"Ah, him? Gihi! You may think of me as a brute, but I staged all of this, just for this time with you. When I heard of Zeref, I realised that I could use him. And through Gajeel I met Rogue and saw his involvement. It was easy to coerce him. All I had to do was threaten to kill his entire family and frame him as me!"

"You monster," Levy spat. "You didn't need him dead!"

"Ah, but I did. To get the suspicion off of poor Gajeel. The Slayer you chased along the roof was him."

"But…but Rogue was injured! He couldn't have done it!"

The Slayer grinned. "Was he injured? How badly? Did you actually go into his room to check, or did he use his father to stall you?"

"I…I…," Levy stammered, seeing her fault.

"It was quite convenient that they both ended up dead. It saved me the bother! Gihihi!"

"Please stop!" Levy cried, reaching out to grab the Slayer's forearm. "Please give Gajeel back! Give him his life back!"

As if frustrated by the contact, the Slayer stood, backing away. He through the gun onto the bed and brandished the knife. "Come on girlie. If you're going to die, at least do it on your feet."

A moment passed in which nothing happened. The Slayer cocked a brow as Levy's face went white and she looked down at her legs. She couldn't move them! She hadn't realised it, but the impact into the wall had damaged her spine, preventing all feelings of pain from her legs reaching her as well as rendering them useless.

"Ah well, at least you won't spend the rest of your life a cripple," the Slayer said quietly, bending back down with the knife before him. "You don't have long at all."

"Please, no!" Levy pleaded, tears in her eyes. "Please, Gajeel!"

The knife stopped, Gajeel's arm trembling. Gajeel's eyes had shifted again. He was startled, uncomprehending.

"Oi, Shorty! What's going on!? Why are you hurt?" He looked at the knife in his hands. "No."

"No, Gajeel! It's okay! We can just-"

"No. I thought I…I knew something was wrong…but this…no. NO!" He stood, discarding the knife. He took the gun from the bed.

"NO! GAJEEL!" Levy screamed.

"I have to." Gajeel raised the gun to the scar on his head and pulled the trigger.

===][===

1 Year later

Levy sat in her study. It was a wondrous room for her, lined with shelf after shelf of leather bound tomes. It was the best place in the entire world. It was cold now in late January. She had a shawl drawn over her narrow shoulders to ward off the cold. She should light the fire, but it made her feel bad. Lucy paid for everything since her incapacitation. She couldn't really work properly anymore, and needed help for everything.

Lily walked into the study, pushing a small wheelchair. He'd been her constant companion since the horrific case of the Slayer. He'd left the military and Lucy kept him on the payroll as butler, handyman and bodyguard all rolled into one.

"Thank you, Lily," she said as he gently lifted her tiny form into the chair. They departed from the room, going out into the cold evening air. Levy watched London roll by. It was as if nothing had ever happened. People were small after all, and London was vast. It swallowed all of their lives.

The entered the hospice and Lily effortlessly carried the entire chair and occupant up three flights of stairs to the psychiatric ward. He didn't enter the specific room and waited outside as Levy pushed herself inside.

Gajeel sat in the bed, his head no longer a swathe of bandages. He looked at her, his eyes distant and vague.

"Little. I know you, right?" He asked.

"That's right," Levy replied kindly, rolling next to him. "I'm Levy. I saw you last week, remember?"

"Yes," Gajeel lied. Levy knew it was a lie, but didn't correct him. "You can't walk. I think I know, but…can you remind me?"

Levy reached up to put a hand on his cheek. He didn't react, as if he'd become used to it despite his memory failure. "A bad man hurt me a long time ago. His name was Rogue and he hurt a lot of people. It's in those newspapers you have in the drawer. Remember, he hurt your head too. It's why you have difficulty remembering."

"A bad man?" Gajeel asked, brow furrowing.

"A very wicked man. But he's gone now. There's only kind men left now." Levy was crying as she spoke.

"Little people shouldn't be hurt," Gajeel declared confidently. "They should be looked after. That's what Captain Makarov always said."

Levy smiled thinly. He remembered Makarov this week. Little by little, he was getting better, and she'd never seen a shadow of the split personality since. She lied and let Rogue take the blame for being the Slayer. She'd called the injuring 'a tragic accident with a misfiring gun', which was a poor lie, but she was a detective and had no one to challenge her.

After all, Gajeel was no criminal.

"I'd like that. I have an hour; would you like to look after me?"

Gajeel nodded and reached into her chair, lifting her onto his lap. She rested her head on his chest and stayed happily in his arms without speaking. Sometimes, the wordy girl had learned, words weren't necessary. The way to mend a broken heart or indeed a broken mind was with love and caring. And she had that in spades.

This was not a happy ending, but it was enough for Levy.

Hi there! Obviously, this was a bitter sweet ending, but the original draft had them both dying, so don't complain! This story was always supposed to be a darker piece, and a 'happy ending' would have been wrong in my opinion.

I hope people enjoyed reading this, and were satisfied with the conclusion. I also hope my plots and twists were logical and consistent. Well…I suck with endings, so thanks for reading!