New story for you guys - a sad one of GrayLu, one of my all time favorite ships.

Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail.

~~~~~~~~COME WAKE ME UP~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 1

My heels clicked on the sidewalk as the night closed in around me, people around me scurrying off to their homes, mothers sweeping their little ones through doorways with a smile, husbands ushering their wives inside with a gentle hand. The hour was growing late, the street completely deserted, save for my lone figure.

Lone. It was a term I'd become quite familiar with over the last 3 months. It was a word that described me so well now, my life perfectly representing the definition. 3 months...that's how long he'd been gone, 90 days, more than 2,000 hours since I had laid eyes on him.

A ragged sigh made its way from deep inside me, as I pushed through the front door of my house. All was quiet, just like it was every night when I got home from work, no lights on anywhere, no voice calling out from the bedroom in welcome. The silence was so stifling, so oppressing as I stepped inside and shut the door.

Once upon a time, I'd had everything I could have ever wanted, a life any woman would be happy to have. It was just too bad I'd ruined it all. I couldn't say that I blamed him for leaving; that would be a lie, and I had made it a rule long ago to never lie to myself or anyone else. No, I wasn't a liar. I was just stupid.

I made my way to the kitchen, going straight for the little cabinet beside the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of whiskey. It had become a habit after the first week of no Gray. I'd come in, pour myself a tumbler of the smooth brown liquid, and flip on the TV. I couldn't take the quiet anymore. It was no longer peaceful or comforting. No, now it was achingly loud, pushing against me from all around.

I leaned against the counter and lifted the glass to my lips as the first memory hit me.

We sat there at the table, both of us still in the clothes we'd slept in, his hair mussed from sleeping. His eyes were bright, having woken up long ago, unlike myself, who'd rolled out of bed long after the sun rose, and only with the promise of pancakes. I'd made a cup of coffee on my way to the table, and I watched as his hand inched over and scooped up the warm mug.

"Hey!" I called, giving him a mock dirty look.

His answer was a comical smirk as he lifted it to his lips, taking a long drink, before handing it back to me. I pouted at him as I looked into the now half-empty cup, "Why can't you just fix yourself a cup instead of always stealing mine?"

"Yours tastes better," he suggested and then laughed as I rolled my eyes.

He had started that almost from the very beginning - stealing my drink, no matter what it was, and then offering the same sad excuse. I'd of course scold him for his thievery, pretending I was angry at him as I worked to hide my grin. Somehow it had become a habit, a funny little joke between the two of us.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I lifted my glass again, letting the liquor burn its way down my throat. I straightened myself, leaving the room behind, as well as the bittersweet memory, as I walked into the den and settled onto the couch. I snatched up the remote and switched on the TV, needing the noise to kill off the sound of emptiness that filled the room.

I looked down to set the remote on the couch, and almost immediately, I was hit with another flashback.

Gray had stretched himself out on the sofa, his eyes intently focused on the TV as I walked into the room. He turned his dark eyes to me, his lips lifting in a smile as he beckoned, "Come watch the movie with me."

"And where would you like me to sit?" I asked with a laugh, as I pointed out that he was taking up the entire couch.

He slid his body back, lying on his side to make space, and said, "Here, lay with me."

"There's no way I'm going to fit there," I disagreed, shaking my head at his suggestion.

"Sure you will. Come on," he repeated, reaching out to tug me down into the spot in front of him.

I laid down with him, but feeling my body right on the edge, I moved to get up, saying, "Gray, I'm going to fall."

"No, you won't baby," he denied, wrapping a strong arm around me, as he assured, "I've got you."

I sat there in the place where he had held me so close and cried, his voice so loud in my head, I could almost swear he was in the room with me. The memory hit me like a fiery punch to the gut, burning up my insides, and I gasped at the pain. I looked down at the glass in my hand, and cursed.

It was going to be one of those nights, the ones that got me when I was too tired to fight. I could usually drink thoughts of him away, push the pictures of him out of my mind, at least for a while, but sometimes, they refused to leave, denying me even a small moment of peace. Those nights, I couldn't forget him at all, his smile, his voice.

Nights like this, he would haunt me, his specter taunting me with memories of his arms surrounding me. God, he made me feel so safe. I'd never felt that way before, absolutely sure that everything would be okay, but with one hug from him, all my fears and worries would disappear.

I reached for the remote once again, pressing my finger to the volume button, turning the sound up even louder, and prayed it could drown out his voice. The nights I could hear him were both a blessing and a curse for me, as I prayed for his voice to never quit, while simultaneously wishing for it to stop. It was heart breaking to make his beautiful baritone disappear, but it was just too hard.

Standing to my feet, I left the room in a hurry, my steps propelling me towards the bathroom, as I drained the last of the whiskey in my glass. I turned on the shower, and pulled my clothes off, tossing them into the laundry basket that Gray had never managed to make use of. I shook my head, frowning at the errant thought, and stepped under the hot spray with a tired sigh.

I washed quickly, hoping to avoid any memories of the two of us in there. I didn't think I could handle anymore tonight. I already felt so raw. I stepped from the shower, feeling hopeful that the walk down memory lane was over, but as the large garden tub came into view, my mind stirred, remembering again.

Bubbles floated atop the water, clinging to my body, my skin already turning pink from the warm temperature. I smiled lightly as I turned the page on a book, my mind totally immersed in one of my favorite scenes, when I heard a noise. I looked up as the door opened, revealing a mop of messy black hair.

"You planning on living in there?" Gray joked, his lips tipping up in amusement.

"My book was just getting good," I answered excitedly.

He stepped fully into the room, and said, "So, I take it you'll be in there until you wrinkle."

I giggled and nodded, before suggesting, "Why don't you get in here with me?"

"Okay," he responded quickly, before divesting himself of his clothing, once again leaving them in the middle of the floor, and climbed in across from me.

I wiped my face with my towel and moved to my bedroom, trying to escape. God I missed him so much. I couldn't forget him. I still loved him as much now as I did before, more so now because I knew what I missing out on. He was like an ache that would never leave me, a wound that could never heal. I was broken, and I knew it wasn't going to get better.

My friends all offered the same advice, give it time and things would get easier. It was a nice sentiment, but it was a lie. I couldn't let him go. I still wanted him so badly, still needed him. The pain of losing him wasn't getting better. It still felt just as real and sharp as it did the day he left. Time had done nothing to dull it; if anything, it had gotten worse the longer he was gone.

I slipped on my panties and a big t-shirt, one of the few I had managed to hide from Gray when he'd moved out. It was pathetic, I knew, but I hadn't been able to stop myself, needing this small reminder that he'd been here.

I pulled the covers back and sank into the spot that had been his, and pulled the blankets over me. I took in a deep breath and swore I could almost smell him on the pillow. Damn, but it hurt so much. I lay there and sobbed, the agony stabbing through me again.

He was out there somewhere, probably happily living his life, facing each day with a smile. I was certain he had moved on from us, not thinking twice about me, and why shouldn't he? He deserved to be happy. Gray deserved to have everything he'd ever wanted.

I knew I needed to let go, to give up on him ever returning. It would probably be healthier to do so, but I couldn't seem to stop hoping. I kept wishing for a miracle, that somehow, he'd realize he still loved me, that he'd forgive me and come home. It was a foolish thing; I knew it, but I couldn't stop loving him. I just couldn't.

The night lay ahead of me empty and long, just like the one before. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep; I never did when Gray preyed on my mind this much. He probably had no trouble sleeping, his every night most likely full of blissful dreams, while I spent my evenings in this bed, hoping he'd come back to me. It was no more than I deserved. I should be the one in pain, the one plagued with these memories.

I climbed into the bed, flipping my pillow onto the cool side, before settling myself beneath the heavy quilt. No more than a minute later, Gray walked in the room, switching off the light and climbing in beside me. He drew the covers up, then began kicking his legs, making the covers fly up into the air.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, giggling at his bizarre actions.

"The covers were tucked under the mattress. I hate that, makes my feet feel like they're trapped," he replied matter-of-factly.

I laughed aloud, before feeling a chill and I squealed, "Hey, cut it out! You're pulling the covers off my feet."

He laughed a bit, doing it once more before rolling over, moving over my body, his arms on either side of me to brace himself, and asked teasingly, "Wanna have some fun?"

My eyes welled with tears as my feelings overwhelmed me. I'd always found it so hard to believe that such an incredible man wanted me, cared about me. It had been shocking to me, and my heart always swelled with love for him. He was amazing, and I couldn't fathom how he had ever become mine.

I clutched the pillow to me tightly, pretending for the moment that it was him, that he was there beside me. I fought for the illusion, but it denied me, instead reminding me again of how I'd messed everything up, repeating the words Gray had said that last day before he walked out of my life.

My mind refused to forget what I'd done or the look in his eyes. He was so hurt, his face a mask of pain as he told me how betrayed he felt. I'd begged, pleaded with him to give me another chance, to forgive me for my indiscretion. But I had revealed something so personal, something he'd trusted only me with, and he just couldn't trust me anymore.

I remembered trying to explain that I hadn't meant to harm him, but it didn't make a difference. Regardless of my reason, I'd hurt him, and destroyed the bond we'd shared. He'd given me a final look before he walked out the door, a look so full of devastation and disappointment. That was the moment I had finally gotten it, I finally understood what I'd done, but it was too late. The damage was done, and I couldn't take it back.

I sobbed again, burying my face into the fabric as I screamed out my anguish into the silence. Oh how I wished he was here to save me from this unbearable night, from this endlessly lonely life. I wanted Gray beside me, lying just behind me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as he whispered, "Goodnight."

I reached for my phone on the table beside the bed, dialing up my voicemail, and played the saved recording. I squeezed my eyes shut as the sound of his deep voice filled my ear, and prayed this was all a dream, some horrible nightmare I couldn't escape.

My tears poured down my face, soaking my pillow as Gray kept talking, and my mind pleaded like it always did at night, wishing for the impossible.

Please let me be dreaming...Gray, come wake me up.