A little angst here, a fair amount of humor there, and a woman's eye for aesthetics. Welcome home?

The sun was beginning to set when their train arrived in Magnolia Station. Gray was already up, leaning against the bank of windows in the corridor outside the cabins, waiting for the team to gather everything. Happy sat on the window sill beside him, keeping him company, since Gray seemed pretty comfortable around him compared to the others. He was about to start on another tangent about the superior qualities of cod over halibut, when he suddenly felt Gray's hand absentmindedly petting his fur. He stopped talking, purring in contentment at the pleasant feeling. He didn't get why Gray seemed to really enjoy the feeling of his fur lately, but he wasn't going to complain.

Gray seemed lost in thought, and Happy wasn't sure if he even realized he was petting him. But if it made him feel better...

The girls came out first, having little else to carry but their own bags. The boys were having to gather all of Gray's things, but they soon joined the rest of them out in the corridor. Everyone was on edge, unsure if they should offer Gray a hand in getting off the train, or let him try to navigate on his own. To their surprise, he spoke up first.

"I'm sorry," he gestured.

With sighs of relief, the tension was broken.

"It's okay. We understand. We should have noticed your discomfort, and shouldn't have pushed. We're sorry, too," offered Lucy.

He just nodded and asked to carry one of his bags, tired of feeling like they had to do everything for him. Instead of insisting they could handle it, Natsu dropped the satchel of artwork into his outstretched hand, saying with a cheeky grin, "Here, you can carry all your fan mail."

That actually made him crack a smile, and everything seemed even lighter now.

"Whatever you say, Sparky."

All who could understand his gestures stifled their laughter at Gray's nickname for Natsu. The poor dragon slayer wasn't even aware that he had one, simply assuming that everyone's given name had its own unique gesture. They'd all decided to wait on letting him in on the joke. Over the past month, Gray had given personal name gestures, nicknames, to all of his friends.

For simplicity's sake, Lyon, or whoever else was translating, would still say the actual name of the person Gray was referring to. Everyone had already learned each other's personal name gesture. Lucy became "Princess" due to Loke's suggestion. She wasn't amused, but it stuck. Erza's was "Red Knight", in reference to her magic. Gray liked keeping to the theme, as well. Makarov was simply "Master" or "Grandpa". Wendy was bashfully pleased when she'd learned that her nickname was "Little Sister." Happy's was obvious. Lyon had retained his personal gesture from childhood. Gray simply placed his hand, gesturing the letter "L", over his heart whenever he was trying to say his name. Ur had created that gesture, and Lyon was quite happy with the keepsake.

Happy helped guide him off the train and onto the platform, calling out each step and curb. Almost as if rehearsed, each member of their group took a position around him, acting as a barrier to ward off any unwanted contact. Lyon was sure if Gray knew what they were doing, he'd be equal parts touched at their consideration and annoyed at their worry. It was a good thing he was too busy trying to keep his grip on Lyon's arm as they made their way through the crowd.

Per Master's orders, there was no big welcome party waiting to greet them at the station, much to Gray's relief. Turning towards the direction of his home, Lyon led slowly at first, but picked up the pace when Gray showed more confidence in his movements. So he was curious when Gray started slowing down, taking almost exaggerated steps, tilting his head as if listening, with a slight upturn of his lips. Lyon and the others smiled when they realized he was just enjoying the sounds the leaves were making as he stepped on them. It was late autumn now. It was hard to believe so much time had passed already. It was nice to see he was still able to enjoy such simple pleasures like this.

Anticipating each turn before they were called out to him, Gray already knew he had reached his home before he stepped onto his stone pathway. The sound of trickling water was the first thing that greeted him. He let go of Lyon's arm and carefully made his way to his water garden, using the sound as his guide. To their astonishment and amusement, he dipped his hand first into the flowing water, then into the little pond itself. He waited mere seconds before a bright red and white fish came up to his hand and nibbled at it. He chuckled happily.

"I missed you too, Flo."

"Who the hell names a stinking gold fish!" exclaimed Natsu, still not believing that was a thing.

Erza shushed him as Lucy asked, "How'd you know that one's Flo?"

Smiling, he said, "She's always been a big flirt." Grazing his hand through the water a little longer, he felt each fish come up to him curiously before darting away.

"Who the hell pets his fish?!" Natsu cried as he pushed Erza's hand off his mouth.

"Happy, thank you for feeding them."

"Aye, sir!" he cried cheerfully.

Wiping his hand on his pants, he carefully climbed the steps as he heard Master open the door.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was surprisingly fresh and pleasant, not the staleness he was expecting. He walked in, getting a feel of the place. So far, nothing seemed amiss. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and the humming of the condenser in the refrigerator turning on.

It was as he was stepping into his living room that the attack hit him.

The stranger appeared from his bedroom, a diminutive man looking to be in his late seventies. His eyes were cold and sunken in, and liver spots covered his bald scalp.

He stopped suddenly, Natsu almost bumping into him.

"I very much want to see your eyes clouded over with pain, as your life pours out of your body..."

"Oy! What gives?"

The momentary guilt he felt over using deadly force evaporated before he had a chance to acknowledge it. The creature, no longer a human in his eyes, still stood before him. He chanced a glance at the old man, who hadn't moved from the bedroom doorway. He just stood there, smiling that gleeful smirk...

"Gray?" asked Lucy.

It didn't matter how many times he cut it. It felt no pain. It felt nothing. But he felt everything. Every impact of its large fists against his sides and back would come back to punish him later...

He dropped his satchel, the drawings and cards scattering on the floor. His hands were trembling, and his breathing was quick and shallow. Lyon moved forward to get a closer look at his face. His jaw was locked tight, his brow breaking out in a cold sweat.

To his horror, it pulled the unfrozen parts of its legs apart from the frozen ones, and proceeded to fall to its hands and stubby knees. No blood flowed, just more of that strange dust. Unhindered by pain, the creature raced on all fours with surprising speed and leaped towards him...

He gasped all of a sudden, Lyon catching him as he fell to his knees, and didn't move. His breathing calmed, and his face relaxed. It was just like on the train. He didn't fall over, just kind of paused where he landed, not moving, like he was in a trance.

Makarov stood before him, staring at his face, trying to gauge what was happening. Deciding he needed more, he reached for the bandages wrapped around Gray's eyes and quickly removed them. He stared listlessly, unfocused, rarely blinking. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't quite awake either. Was he drifting again? If he was, it was to a lesser degree. Whatever he had just experienced, it forced him to shut down, but not completely. Motioning the others to get him off the floor, Natsu and Lyon guided him to his feet, assisting him as he stumbled to an upholstered armchair and sat down.

Knowing there was nothing they could do but to wait him out, Erza volunteered to heat up some food while everyone else set about putting his things away. Natsu rewrapped fresh gauze around his eyes, more out of consideration for Gray's sensitivity towards the scars than for any need to keep them clean and sterile. About twenty minutes later, he started to come around.

He knew he was sitting, but he didn't recognize the chair. He was still in his house, right? The mantle clock was still ticking away. Before he could start panicking again, Happy hopped into his lap, knowing he was the lone exception to Gray's "no touch" rule. Gray relaxed as soon as he started petting him, offering a small apology for worrying his friends.

"You have no reason to apologize. We're just happy you're back with us," assured Makarov.

"...Where did I go?"

"We think you drifted, but not so deeply. Do you remember what happened?"

Makarov gave him time to think, hoping he hadn't made a mistake in asking him to recall a bad memory. He had an idea what Gray had "seen," but waited for him to talk about it first.

"...The necromancer was here, with his creatures. They ambushed me when I came home. I couldn't hurt them. They didn't feel pain. One of them... broke my ribs. The other tore its freakin legs off and leaped at me. I stabbed one in the damned heart, but it still kept beating me. I didn't want to kill. I killed it over and over. It wouldn't die! I couldn't kill it. I wanted to kill. I wanted—"

He broke off when Lyon stilled his hands, whispering that it was alright to stop. They were gone now. He wasn't a killer.

Gray hadn't realized he was saying so much. His hands shook, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Then Erza came up, purposely making some noise as she walked, and calmly asked if he wanted some food. He nodded, glad to get off of the current subject, and Lyon helped him to the dining table.

He was confused. He had a small, round table that seated four. This was a larger, rectangular table that sat six comfortably, but could be expanded to seat eight if needed; and the chairs were cushioned instead of just wood. He also noticed how he was lead around other furnishings that shouldn't be there, or how he didn't walk right into the coffee table that should have been.

After he was seated before a plate of reheated pasta and baked chicken, he quirked an eyebrow and gestured, "What the hell did you do to my house?"

"We redecorated!" enthused Lucy, "We threw out all the old stuff and replaced it with brand new furniture and accessories. We even switched the rugs out. Everyone at the guild chipped in. Erza and Mira picked out the couch, since they figured they knew your tastes the best. I got you this beautiful, antique-style writing desk, with a teller's lamp made of stained glass. Oh, and the leather chair in the living room reclines!... Do you not like it?" she finished timidly.

He kinda felt bad for waiting so long to answer, knowing they probably thought he was angry. But he was actually pretty touched that they'd done all that for him. He could guess why they felt changing everything out was necessary, and was very grateful they had thought to do so, as he hadn't even thought of that. He kept his head facing her with his eyebrow quirked, and just when he was sure she was beginning to squirm under the scrutiny, he asked, "Would you like to borrow it?"

Lucy, whom Lyon didn't need to translate for, understood the words if not the question itself. "Borrow?"

"My antique-style writing desk. I hear it's lovely. The lighting should create a nice ambiance, and the atmosphere around here is pretty quiet and not too distracting," he finished with an actual smile.

And just like that, everyone was pleased. He wasn't upset about the new decor, and he even seemed willing to open his home to visitors. They were expecting him to be rather distant, as his recent behavior had been leaning more towards isolation as of late.

Lucy smiled back, saying, "I may have to accept your invitation sometime."

Now that everything was calm, they each settled around the table, except for Makarov. "Master, will you not be joining us? You're more than welcomed," said Erza.

"Thank you, but no. I wish to go to the guild and let everyone know we're back. They'll want to know that Gray's settling in and doing well." That was Makarov's round-about way of saying that Gray's meltdowns were his business alone, and wouldn't be mentioned outside this room. Gray really appreciated that.

Everyone gave their goodbyes as he left. The food and conversation were both good and simple. The chicken was tender enough to cut with a fork, sparing Gray the vexation of needing his food cut for him. Erza made note of that as she watched him eat, so she could keep that in mind in the future.

The rest of the evening was spent getting Gray used to the new surroundings. There were an awful lot of throw pillows. Seriously, on every chair? Was that something girls did? Apparently they matched the color scheme. Okay? Whatever the hell that was. He just hoped they hadn't painted the walls a different color. That reminded him. He'd have to place Reedus' painting on the mantle later on. And Asuka's pictures on the fridge. As soon as he could find them. It was going to take a while to get used to this new lay out. It's been so long, he was having trouble even remembering the old one.

"So what do you think? Do you like what we've done to the place?" asked Erza.

After considering the question, he was very frank with his opinion. "I like it. All the new things, the textures, the placement; it feels like it's not even my house."

That was a little confusing.

"But isn't that a bad thing? We want you to feel at home. If you don't like something, we can change it," offered Lucy.

Shaking his head, he replied, "No. This is better." He didn't elaborate, but they got the gists of it.

The thought never crossed their minds that he wouldn't want to stay in the place in which he was attacked.

There was also a bit of nervousness when he refused to go into the bedroom. Natsu had already told them how the necromancer had gained access to Gray's house through the bedroom window, so they said nothing, moving on to new topics instead. At some point, Gray started letting his attention wander again. It was when he started reaching his hand up to rub at his temple that Lyon put an end to the evening.

It was decided that Lyon would be Gray's primary caretaker. More to the point, he made the decision for them. Because let's face it, he was older than them all, by years now, and had the patience and maturity to handle the given situation better than any of them.

They all made quick work of cleaning up and leaving, making plans to meet at the guild tomorrow. The sound of too many locks engaging drew Gray's attention. They even added more locks? How...thoughtful? Lyon went to the kitchen, filling a glass with water before returning to the living room, placing it on a tray on top of a large, round storage ottoman that took up the middle of the sitting area. Gray heard him rummage around his bag, and recognized the distinct rattle of several pill bottles. Sighing in resignation, he felt around for the glass, and held out his hand, accepting the plethora of pain meds, anti inflammatories, beta blockers, and sleep aids, swallowing them all at once as he downed the glass.

Lyon helped him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up. While he waited, he gathered everything necessary to redress the grafts. This was a methodical process, and Porlyusica took great pains in making sure he and Loke learned how to do it properly. For whatever reason, Natsu was adamantly opposed to learning as well, and Master, knowing his child enough to know he had his reasons, didn't force the issue.

Gray came out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of shorts. He waved Lyon down when he heard him starting to rise, and found his way with little effort. Erza was wise to keep a path clear to the bathroom and kitchen.

Lyon had him sit on the ottoman, and carefully unwound the old bandages. He asked if the medicines were kicking in yet, to which Gray gave a brief nod. He only had a short time to finish, then. At least the discomfort would be minimized. His skin was still wet from the simple sponge bath he was allowed, so Lyon helped him dry off, before donning a pair of nitrile gloves and applying a balm over the grafts. Lyon noted some small, dark spots in a few places, which he would inform Porlyusica about tomorrow. It's likely those spots were dead grafts, which was a common occurrence and not something to worry about. He wrapped the grafts snuggly, first the arms, then the shoulders, back and chest.

He next checked his legs. These were the skin donor sites. Very thin layers of skin were harvested in order to grow the grafts. The donor sites were scattered all over his legs. His abdomen would have been a better choice, but for obvious reasons, was rejected. As for his legs, there remained only large patches of scabbed over abrasions now. No signs of redness or swelling. Good. They wouldn't need redressing anymore. Finally, he gave the rest of Gray a once over. The ligature marks around his wrists and ankles weren't as prominent as before, but still very visible. The myriad scars that still made a patchwork of the rest of his skin were fading still, leaving odd white lines everywhere. All except for the tally marks. Those were made far deeper for whatever reason. All in all, everything looked as to be expected.

He could tell Gray was fading fast, so he asked him if he was ready to go to his room. He jerked up, shaking his head, once more refusing to go in there. "I'll sleep on the couch," he gestured. Lyon relented. It really was a comfortable couch. He gathered some fresh sheets from the closet and laid them over the couch, before helping him stand. Gray was given some pretty powerful sleep aids at night, and there was no doubt to their effectiveness when he shakily walked that short distance and sat down. He gingerly turned onto his stomach, propping his head on one of those fancy throw pillows Lucy was gushing about earlier. He was out before Lyon had even pulled a sheet over his body.

After cleaning everything up, he decided to take the bedroom for himself. Leaving the door open in case Gray needed anything, he dressed in his night clothes and went to the closet to hang his coat. Glancing around as one tended to do in someone else's closet, his eyes spied something unexpected. Hidden away on the top shelf was a violin case. 'Huh. I never knew you played,' he thought to himself as he closed the door.

Laying down on the bed, Lyon thought back on the day's events. So much had happened today, it was a wonder there was enough time to get it all done. Tomorrow they'd be going to the guild. Everyone thought Gray would have been exited about that, and he was, but there were also signs of wariness. How would he react to everyone there? How would they react to him? There's no denying that he's changed in some ways. Would they be able to adapt? Master Makarov surely took the time to brief everyone to keep things calm and orderly. What was there to worry about?

These thoughts were the last in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

It occurs to me that, as established by the Sun Village arc, Gray's prone to flashbacks. It's a shame this isn't explored all that much in canon. So many different aspects of the human condition just aren't that well represented in the more popular animes, such as physical and mental disabilities. There's more to those that live with such things than just those labels. I hope I can do a decent job in featuring these things in this story.

I name my fish, too. Live life to the fullest, Gray!

Next Chapter: Return to Guild life. Asuka is adorable. Also, Natsu vs Lyon!? Finally, some action!