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Lately, Greige had been trying to walk.
It was a long time overdue, too, Juvia had already worried if there was something wrong with the child. There was nothing inherently wrong with him taking his time, but when they looked around at the kids his age he just seemed as if he was lacking behind a little.
Eventually, after a while of watching other kids around the guildhall walk about this way or another Greige also started his own attempt. It was as if he had wanted to make sure first before trying himself. As if he had to make sure that the exhaustion that came with getting up was really worth the payoff and had decided that it was.
Gray didn’t let the boy out of his sight of course and followed him through the house whenever he pushed himself up to walk. There was no way he was going to let anything harm the boy, not even his own clumsiness.
He knew he was being a little too overprotective, and that kids hurting themselves and learning was part of the childhood process. But Greige was shy, he was quiet and needed support and Gray hated nothing more than to hear him cry, even if it was just a cry for food, out of exhaustion or because he was especially moody.
So the boy learned to walk under constant supervision by his father who hovered over him like a hawk, always ready to strike in case it was necessary to catch him from falling. If the boy had been older and maybe more of a conscious he might have been able to be annoyed at this behaviour but like this he was just glad his father spent so much time with him.
Of course, Greige fell. Controlled by his fathers arms he would sometimes tumble over himself and fall. Everytime this happens Gray would pick the boy up, hold him in his arms and ask “Where does it hurt?” Greige would wiggle his little legs and point to this spot or another that was apparently in pain and to make it better Gray would give it a little kiss. “It’s magic you see,” he’d say. “It’s already healed now.” That would always make the boy smile.
It was something he still remembered from when he was a child. The incident had erased a lot of his memories from before his parents died, but he still remembered that his mother had held him just like this. Her soft hands, her smile, the way it always made him feel better was etched into his soul. He wanted his son to have the same early memories.
You shouldn’t lie to your children maybe, but if it was a white lie like this it was alright. If it stopped a little child from crying it was definitely alright.
Greige started walking longer distances and Gray followed him, one hand always in grabbable distance to the boy. Though he had waited a while to even stand on two feet, he now seemed to pick up walking quite quickly. Kids his age still walked at a parents hand, but he could basically do it on his own.
And everytime he did fall and cry, Gray would use his “magic” to make it disappear. In other cases, maybe when something was swollen, Gray would use his actual magic for it, but that happened seldomly.
“My dearest really is soft with the boy ” Juvia chirped one night as they went to bed. “It makes Juvia so happy to see. Though it makes her worry about disciplining in the future.”
Gray turned from his back to the side so they could face each other: “I just don’t want him to injure himself.”
“Greige is a strong boy,” Juvia said. “Dearest needn’t worry.”
But he did. Gray worried all the time. He accompanied the boy everywhere he could. When he was out on missions he trusted Juvia to take care of him, but he still worried. What if he would fall over and cry? Could the boy even stop without Gray there? What a ridiculous thought. The child always had his mother.
Soon the boy started to talk. Just a little, a ramble here and there and on top of that, to Gray’s dismay, the child seemed to have inherited his mother’s half water body. “It just makes sense to teach Greige water magic,” Juvia said and she sounded apologetically though Gray knew she was elated over the possibility.y “Since Greige already shows promise.”
Gray pouted a little. “Guess we need another kid,” he said with a frown. “So I get to at least be a teacher in some way.” Juvia dropped the pan she had been holding. “ Dear !”
Well, so it was decided that once he was a little older Juvia would take over the primary education preceding school. Deep down Gray allowed himself to be a little bitter about that, but it also pushed him forward to spending more time with his son.
One day there were out in the city of Magnolia, strolling along the booths of the market. Greige had been sitting in the carrier on Gray’s back, but was now walking around freely. Such were kids, first they didn’t want to walk and then they walked everywhere, even places that they shouldn’t be.
They ran into Levy who was running errands for her school starting twins. Gray was halfway into a talk with her about how hard it was to keep them from eating the structure of their house and how Gajeel wasn’t helping when he realised that Greige had let go of his hand.
Panic got him immediately. Without saying anything to Levy he spun around and ran in the opposite direction, eyes open for the boy. It must have been father-senses or just good luck, because soon he could spot the child. His heart sunk in his pants. The boy was on the top of a ladder, clearly trying and failing to get back down.
“Greige,” he yelled and immediately regretted it, because the boy whipped his head around to his father and without concentrating on his feet, missed a step and slipped .
It wasn’t high. It was maybe half a metre up. Still, there was no way Gray would let him take that fall. No way.
Gray hurried up forward, pushing his hands together to create a cushion for the boy to fall into. Ice, however, was not the most comfortable of mattresses so he took another big leap to make it in time before the boy could even hit his own creation. He stretched one hand, caught Greige’s arm and then rolled over with the boy safely protected between him.
His head hurt and something on his leg was definitely bleeding, but the boy was safe in his arms. Gray shook himself and then slowly let him go. “You hurt, big guy?” Gray asked the boy and searched with his eyes all over the kid's body. It didn’t seem like he was injured.
Greige wasn’t crying, which in itself was already a big surprise. He must have gotten a scare when he slipped down the ladder, and under usual circumstances he would cry as a very natural reaction to being scared, but this time he just looked at his father with wide eyes.
“Papa,” he said and Gray hummed in reply. “Ouch.”
Gray blinked: “What, dear?”
“Papa ouch.” He repeated.
“Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? I can make it go away.” Gray looked at the boy again and once again couldn't find any harm on him.
“ Papa ouch,” Greige repeated and stomped with his feet as if he was frustrated with his father not listening to him.
Gray needed another second of a look in the pouting child’s face to understand what he was trying to say. “Oh me ?” he asked and then looked down to where his leg was hurting. His assumption before had been correct, he was absolutely bleeding. Well, nothing else was to be expected, he did roll over cobblestone with a child in his arms after all.
It was a small wound, but deep, like he had cut himself. Nothing that couldn’t be healed by Wendy in a matter of seconds or heal on its own in a week, but it didn’t look pretty, so he was sorry that Greige had to see it. “Ah, ah this? Don’t worry, big guy, Papa isn’t that ouch.”
Greige bent over and his little hands seemed like he was reaching for the wound. “Don’t touch it please, it is dirty” Gray told him, worried that he could dirty the wound before it was properly sterilised.
The boy, however, didn’t stop. He held on to Gray’s knees just above the wound and murmured something about “Wa-er” which was his word for water and at the same time his way of naming any kind of magic that people used around him. He did mainly know his mother’s magic after all.
Gray wondered what he meant with magic or water until the boy leaned forward and gave Gray a very wet kiss onto the knee.
And though spit ran from the chin of the child right into his wound and stung him, Gray didn’t feel the pain. Inside of his body a festival of emotions was going off. His boy had just tried to “heal him” just like Gray had always done for Greige.
“No…” Greige said when he looked again at the wound as it was still there. “No?” He asked his father and when Gray didn’t reply immediately Greige pressed another wet kiss to his knee.
Gray wanted to cry and only a very strong willpower stopped him from doing it. He wanted to pull Greige in and kiss him 50 times on his head and tell him that he was the kindest human being on this planet.
“No!” Greige exclaimed and sounded desperate now, after all, the magic he’d been taught to heal wounds wasn’t healing any wounds.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. This is a grown up pain, so it needs grown-up magic.” Gray bit his lower lip. If he now would start crying in front of his son the child would maybe think it was his fault, and that was the last thing Gray wanted. “Papa will have big sister Wendy ask for help. She has grown-up magic.”
The boy frowned. “Wa-er” he said with a pout. He seemed disappointed that he wasn’t grown-up enough yet to heal wounds.
This time Gray gave in to his impulse. He pulled to him and lifted him up into his arms. “You know,” he told him, “I already feel much better. So thank you for healing me.”
The boy laughed and there wasn’t much in the world that was as beautiful as that.
There would be times where Greige would not want to be supervised by his father at every turn. Where he would want to climb higher walls or trees and would fall and injure himself more than just a scratched knee. Gray didn’t like thinking about these times and of course wished that they would never come, but even if they did, at least he could always help him back on his feet again. Healing magic or not.