The week leading up to the hearing passed in a blur of work meetings, conference calls, and way too many cups of coffee. Tempête's new game was being released in less than a month, and the extra work kept Gray from thinking too much about the photo of Lyon on his bedside table, or the letter he carried in his pocket.
On Thursday afternoon, just as Gray was about to make his fourth cup of coffee, Natsu appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Hey, Snowflake," he said, reaching out and gently taking the mug from Gray's hands. "C'mere." He wrapped both arms around Gray's waist and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head. "You're working too hard. Come take a break."
Gray made a muffled sound and pressed his forehead to Natsu's shoulder. "I gotta finish stuff."
"You're hiding," Natsu insisted, pulling back from the embrace and giving Gray a serious look. "I know you need space when you're stressed, but I'm worried about you."
Gray sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. "My stomach hurts and I always have a headache," he admitted. "It just makes it easier when I'm doing something else."
"I know," Natsu said gently. "You need to get out of the office though. Come to the beach with me?" Gray hesitated and Natsu added, "Ryos asked if we wanted to come, they're having a playdate with Freed's nieces. You don't have to socialize with anyone if you don't want to, I promise."
Gray's immediate reaction was to shake his head and pull away, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was to be around other people right now – for them to see the cracks in the armor he was so desperately trying to hold together. But if Natsu had taught him anything, it was that letting other people in was okay, so he nodded instead. The smile that lit up Natsu's face made the anxiety worth it.
"C'mon," Natsu said, kissing Gray's cheek and nodding toward the door. "Let's go."
Everyone was already at the beach by the time they arrived. Sting and Ryos sat on a blanket together near the driftwood piles, watching Noah play a card game with Bix – Freed and Laxus' roommate. Bix's service dog Clara rested beside him, and Chewy had curled up next to her, happy for another dog's company.
"He's ridiculous," Natsu said to Gray as they got out of the car, pointing down to the surf. "Nobody needs biceps that big." Laxus stood in the water with Amelia and Rebecca – one girl hanging from each arm as he lifted them over the waves.
"You're just jealous," Gray teased, hoping it came out playful and not as somber as he felt. Natsu gave him a soft smile, taking his hand and kissing his cheek before pulling him toward the group.
"It's Natsu," he said, touching Bix's shoulder and settling down next to him. "Who's winning?"
"Noah's won the last three games," Bix admitted, running his fingers over the braille on the edge of the Uno card. "I think he might take my title as reigning champion."
"Like the colors," Noah said brightly, smiling at Natsu. "Hi."
"Hey, bud." Natsu reached out his leg and bumped Noah's foot with his. "Missed you."
You too, Noah signed one-handed as he handed Bix a 'pick up four' card to feel.
"I'm gonna go see Freed," Gray said, crouching down and kissing Natsu's cheek before gesturing over to the pile of driftwood where Freed was sitting. Natsu nodded absently, already engrossed in the game.
Gray made his way to Freed slowly, taking his time to feel the sand on his bare feet as he watched the sun sparkle off the waves. The sky was bright blue, interrupted by the occasional wisp of clouds, and it reminded Gray of his wedding.
"Ça va?" Freed asked as Gray plopped down beside them, peeking over their shoulder at the sketchbook propped up on their knees. It was a rough sketch of Laxus, playing with the girls in the waves.
"Mm." Gray tipped his head onto Freed's shoulder. They hummed sympathetically, closing the sketchbook and wrapping their arm around Gray's shoulders. The two of them sat like that for a while, watching Amelia splash in the water as Laxus dove in after her, grabbing her by the ankles and dunking her while she squealed in delight. Rebecca clambered onto Laxus' back and giggled when he spun her in circles.
It ached, in a strange way.
"I found this," Gray said eventually, digging into the pocket of his shorts and tugging out a folded photograph. He smoothed it out on his leg, feeling the familiar nostalgia that surfaced each time he looked at it. His heart ached – he felt homesick, suddenly, for a place he hadn't lived in years.
"Is that Lyon?" Freed asked, taking the picture. Gray nodded. It was the two of them, about eight years old, building a sandcastle at the beach in Montréal. Lyon's hair was long, and he was laughing at something Gray had said as he dumped sand between them. Freed studied the picture for a minute, then looked at Gray. "Did you finish your statement?"
"Yeah." That piece of paper was folded up in his pocket too, but he left it there, small and secret. Until tomorrow.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Gray shook his head. He took the picture back, running his fingers over the creases as he studied the smile on Lyon's face.
"Okay," Freed said. They took Gray's hand as they settled back against the driftwood, squeezing it gently as they spent the afternoon in a gentle silence.
Gray was calmer than he'd expected on the drive to the courthouse the next day.
"Can I do anything to make it easier?" Natsu asked. They were stopped at a red light and Gray watched the crossing hand count down the seconds. 13…12…11…10… "Snowflake?" 9…8…7…6… "Gray?" 5…4…3…2… "Hey." There was a gentle touch on his knee as the hand turned solid and the light changed to green.
"I'm not sure how I feel," he admitted quietly, looking down at Natsu's hand on his thigh and then slipping their fingers together. The tag on the collar of his suit jacket scraped against his skin as he shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
"I know," Natsu said. He ran his thumb across Gray's knuckles and Gray stared at the deep blue polish on his nails. Gray swallowed, reaching up and touching the pocket of his jacket where he'd tucked the letter he'd written. Part of him wanted to read it again, and another part of him wanted to tear it to pieces and throw it away.
"You know I love you no matter what, right?" Natsu's voice was soft and it took Gray back over a decade, to a snowy Christmas Eve where the two of them had sat in the park while Gray told Natsu what had happened.
Lyon shot me.
Lyon blamed me for mom's death. Probably still does.
My uncle murdered her.
He disappeared. It was like he died. It was easier to pretend I didn't have a brother.
He was high and he shot me.
It was my fault.
I hate him.
The anger in the memory was muted, even though at the time, it had felt like it was tearing him apart. A quiet, aching sorrow colored everything instead. It was the same sadness from his wedding, when he'd stood next to the ocean and thought about how Lyon was supposed to have been his best man. It was the sense of emptiness when he visited their mom's grave and he brought two bouquets of flowers – one of him, and one for the brother and son they'd lost. It was the soft flicker of nostalgia when he looked at the photograph of two little boys before everything had broken.
He looked back out the window again as they drove past the beach. The old pier wasn't there anymore – it had been torn down years ago, along with the old, rusted boats where Natsu had slept before he'd come into Gray's life and changed everything.
"No matter what?" Gray asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Natsu nodded, bringing Gray's hand to his lips and kissing his fingers. "No matter what."
Finding parking and getting through security took forever, and by the time they got into the courtroom, Gray felt exhausted. Then he looked up and saw Lyon, and he wanted to turn and run.
"I'm here," Natsu murmured, keeping a hand on Gray's elbow as Gray tensed and took a step back. Lyon looked so different. His hair was shorter than Gray remembered, and he'd gained back the weight he'd lost, leaving his cheeks full and pink. A light trail of stubble ran down his cheeks, highlighting the tense line of his jaw. He sat at the defendant's table next to his lawyer, head bowed, eyes focused on his hands.
"He's..." Gray reached down and took Natsu's hand in his trembling one. "He's so different." The last time Gray had seen him had been fourteen years ago, as his vision was fading while he bled out on the floor of his apartment.
Gray closed his eyes, giving himself permission to feel scared and angry before he pulled himself back to the present.
"I can do this," he said, not sure if he was convincing Natsu or himself. Natsu squeezed his hand in agreement, then nudged Gray forward, following the officer who had escorted them in toward the benches. Sylvie and Ultear were already there, and Ultear's steely gaze was trained on Lyon. Sylvie stood up as soon as she saw Gray, pulling him into a tight hug.
"I love you, Uncle Gray," she said, kissing his cheek when she pulled back and shifted over for him to sit down.
"Love you too," he said, giving Sylvie an uncertain smile while avoiding the hostile expression on Ultear's face.
"Good morning, everyone." The judge's voice filled the room. "This is a Parole Suitability hearing for Lyon Vastia-Tremblay, British Columbia Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, Number W-98245."
Gray let go of Natsu's hand for long enough to reach into his pocket and pull out his notes. Natsu's other hand settled onto Gray's back and Gray let out the breath he'd been holding, focusing on the soft weight of Natsu against him.
"Are you Lyon Vastia-Tremblay?"
There was a pause before a quiet, familiar voice answered, "Yes, sir."
Gray looked up at Lyon again, who was still staring at his hands as he answered the question.
"You are before us today as an initial applicant for parole release. You're presently serving twenty-one years for…"
Gray's attention drifted from the judge's words – he already knew Lyon's charges by heart. That wasn't why he was here. Instead he studied Lyon, searching for pieces of the boy he remembered. Everything about him was unfamiliar – the cut of his hair, the dejected slump of his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw.
"Now we are going to invite to the stand Grayson Dubois-Tremblay."
Gray blinked, looking back up at the judge. A tight, tense fear coiled in his stomach as he stood, then stepped around Sylvie and Ultear toward the front of the courtroom. The paper in his hands trembled as he stepped into the witness stand, heart pounding in his chest. The words on the sheet were a blur, and there was a brief, terrifying moment where Gray was convinced he was going to faint.
"Could you please state your name for the record, and then proceed with your statement."
Gray licked his lips, setting the paper down on the stand and placing his hands flat on the wood. He tried to take a deep breath, but it stuck in his chest, and he could feel his face flush hot and red.
"M-my name is, uh, Gray. Grayson Jean-Yves Dubois-Tremblay." There. He'd said his name. He could do this. "I'm here because I... Lyon..."
Gray looked up. He'd meant to look over at Natsu for reassurance, but instead his eyes tracked across the room to his brother.
Lyon was looking at him. Gray froze, fingers digging into the wood as he stared. However different Lyon looked, however much he had changed after fourteen years, his eyes were still the same.
"I miss my brother," Gray said. It wasn't what was written on the paper, but he couldn't say anything else when Lyon was looking at him like that. Looking at Gray like he was sorry, like he hated himself. Looking like the brother Gray loved.
"I'm here because..." Gray swallowed, unable to look away from Lyon. The words were stuck in his throat, hidden somewhere behind the sudden wave of grief and affection that washed over him.
"Take your time, son." The judge's voice was gentle, and it pulled Gray back to himself, nudging him out of the intensity of Lyon's gaze. Gray looked back down at the paper in front of him, taking a deep breath and slowly starting to read.
"It's been, um, fourteen years," Gray said, "since Lyon tried to... since Lyon shot me." He wanted to look over at Natsu, but he was sure that if he made eye contact, he wouldn't be able to keep going. "It was Christmas. We hadn't talked in a while, and he... I thought he was reaching out. Instead he almost killed me."
Gray's chest tightened and for a moment, he couldn't breathe, but he forced himself to keep going.
"I was in the hospital for a long time. I had three surgeries on my shoulder and ended up with complicated nerve damage that left me in severe pain for over a year after the incident."
Gray almost reached up to touch the scar on his shoulder, but he dug his nails into his palm instead, focusing on the paper in front of him.
"In additional to the physical injuries, I suffered from severe PTSD." Gray's voice wavered. "For the first year after the incident, I was, um... really angry and depressed. Sometimes I wished that... that I had died, that they had been too late."
Gray felt tears on his cheeks, and he rubbed at his eyes. There was more written on the paper, but he couldn't see it – it was just a confusing mess of black and white.
"I lost everyone," Gray said, voice breaking. "My parents, and my mom, and we came here, and I was scared, and... I loved my brother. We were – he was my friend. My best friend. We'd been through so much, and I trusted him. And then he changed. He disappeared."
Gray tried his best to keep in a sob, but it broke out anyway, and he felt so young and stupid. He wasn't thirty-three, he was fifteen and scared and holding his brother's hand as they sat in the police station after their mom died. He was sixteen and calling the cops while Lyon screamed at him. He was nineteen and dying. He was twenty and wishing he'd died.
Gray looked up at Lyon again. Lyon was crying too, hands clasped tightly in his lap, and Gray could see him, could see his brother, the boy he'd grown up with in the face of this stranger.
"What Lyon did was awful," Gray said slowly, keeping eye contact with his brother. This was the part he hadn't written down, hadn't told anyone, even Natsu. He hadn't even been sure he'd be able to say it once he was here. "But he was hurting too."
Lyon's eyes widened as he stared at Gray, who took a deep breath and kept going.
"We both lost everything, and we both made bad choices. The choices Lyon made hurt a lot of people, including me, but... I understand." Gray could feel Natsu's gaze on him, but he couldn't look away from the expression of disbelief on Lyon's face. He wasn't talking to the court anymore; he was talking to his brother.
"I sent you a letter ten years ago, and I said I that forgave you for what you did. I thought I knew what it meant – that it was a way to get you out of my life so I could stop thinking about you. But I never did. I missed you at my wedding. I missed you every holiday. I still miss you when I go out and visit mom's grave."
Gray wiped at the tears spilling down his cheeks but more kept coming. It didn't hurt, though. The anger and fear and bitterness that he'd held on to was tempered by their years apart, by the lines on Lyon's face, by the grief in Lyon's eyes.
"So now, here... I forgive you." The courtroom was silent save for the reporter's fingers flying across the keys. Lyon had his hand over his mouth now and was crying harder than Gray, never looking away from him. "I'm sorry that you were hurting so badly that you thought this path was your only option. I'm sorry that I didn't try to get you the help you needed. I'm sorry that we lost each other."
Gray reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded envelope, creased from folding and refolding, and pulled out the letter inside. It was the first one Lyon had ever written to him, and Gray looked away from Lyon to stare down at the words he knew by heart.
"You sent me this a long time ago," Gray said quietly. "I've read it hundreds of times. And it took me too long to realize that you needed to hear these things, too." He ran his fingers over the first lines of the letter, then looked up at Lyon again.
"I love you," Gray said softly, a small smile making its way across his face as he forgave his brother. "I'm sorry. And mom's death wasn't your fault."