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Part 2
Lyon fled the moment Gray had that Sabertooth bastard down on the ground for good. His guild parted and leaned back to let him pass. He'd been too worked up to properly acknowledge their concern throughout the spectacle, but he could reassure them later. Right now, he had only one goal in mind.
He flew through the stands, squeezing through crowded aisles and shouldering aside anyone who didn't move fast enough on the stairs. When he reached the main exit of the arena, he pushed past the Fairy Tail mages already gathered there.
"Gray!" he said. "Are you alright?"
Gray had already made it to them, and Lyon felt no qualms about pushing everyone aside to get to him. He caught only a glimpse of Gray's stone-cold expression before flinging his arms around him and holding him tight.
"I'm fine," Gray said.
Lyon supposed a stupid question deserved a stupid answer. Gray was not alright. He was not fine. How could he be?
If Lyon's shame at his past mistakes burned so hot and his rekindled grief for Ur and themselves blazed so bright, he could only imagine how shaken Gray must be after facing it all down directly. Lyon had never come close to forgetting the tragedies of the past, but seeing it all laid out, playing back like a video recording, was different. It felt more tangible and real and overwhelming.
A few details were different—he supposed it made sense that Gray didn't remember everything exactly the same way he did—and the biggest difference was Ur's final moments. Lyon hadn't witnessed them himself before, being unconscious at the time, and this was the first he knew anything concrete about them. It was the first time he had heard Gray beg and wail like his heart was being torn from his chest, and now he couldn't unhear it. It was hard to hear anything else.
Everything else might as well have been ripped straight from Lyon's memories as much as Gray's.
"What do you want?" Natsu growled, and Lyon looked over to see Rufus approaching them.
All his anger and pain and worry solidified suddenly, aimed at the man who had dug them up. He had half a mind to give Rufus a black eye, sportsmanship and competition rules be damned, but Gray held him back with a hand resting on his forearm.
Lyon fumed quietly through the exchange. As far as he was concerned, Rufus deserved worse than a loss or disqualification. How could anyone be so cruel? Weaponizing someone's memories and traumas took a special kind of sadism.
Gray took it stoically, though, and remained calm. Too calm, maybe. Lyon knew him well enough to have read the naked pain on his face in the arena, even when he wasn't begging for it to stop, but now his expression was cold and hard and shuttered, like he had shut down entirely. Which Lyon supposed he should have expected. Gray's favored line of defense when anger and sheer stubbornness failed was shutting everyone out and keeping his emotions under wraps. It was awfully hard to gauge someone's true feelings and comfort them when they stubbornly insisted nothing was wrong at all, and Lyon hated Rufus all the more for pushing Gray there. It would make his job that much harder.
When Gray finally dismissed Rufus, Lyon glared at the bastard one last time and hurried after his friend.
"Gray–"
"I said I'm fine," Gray said without looking at him.
"Yes, but…"
Gray did stop in his tracks and turn to Lyon then, examining him appraisingly. "Are you?"
"Am I?" Lyon repeated, taken aback.
"Are you okay? I imagine it wasn't very pleasant for you either."
He shook his head in disbelief. "It was terrible, but you were the one facing them. You're the one who was hurt."
Gray looked away again. "They belong to you as much as they do to me."
Maybe so, but Lyon highly doubted their experiences had been equivalent. He was more concerned about the violation of Gray's mind and the Pandora's Box it had opened.
"Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Erza asked from behind them.
"No, I'm fine." Gray peered out at the crowds still gossiping excitedly. He was blocked from their view while he lingered in the staging area where competitors readied themselves to enter the arena, but he would become the subject of their scrutiny and whispers the second he stepped out. Apprehension crossed his face like a shadow before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"You should go," Erza said more firmly. "You deserve a rest after that horrible man's display. We'll come with you."
"The other events–"
"You don't have to watch them all. The rest of the guild will still be here to cheer everyone on."
Gray's lips pressed into a tight, mulish line. "You should be here. I can go on my own."
Erza sighed. "We're not going to–"
"I'll go with him," Lyon volunteered. His cheeks heated as everyone stared at him, but he didn't back down. "I could use a break from the arena too."
Gray frowned. "Your guild–"
"Will be fine without me for a few hours. I don't have another event today."
"You sure that's a good idea?" Natsu asked, crossing his arms and looking Lyon up and down.
And here Lyon had thought Natsu didn't mind him so much anymore. Maybe the reminders of Galuna had rekindled old mistrust and suspicion.
"I think it's a great idea," Erza said with considerably more enthusiasm. "I'm sure you two have plenty to talk about."
Gray looked far less enthused. His eyes had taken on the hunted look of an animal about to gnaw off its own leg to escape a trap.
"Seriously, I'm–"
"You will go back to the hotel," Erza said firmly. "You need to rest after your fight, and there's no need to deal with all the nosy people around here right now. And you will not go alone. Personally, I think Lyon is a great choice, but we could always come instead if you prefer."
Gray stared at her, but no one could stare down Erza Scarlet. His gaze slid between Lyon and his team as he waged a silent debate. Then, evidently deciding this wasn't the greenest hill to die on, he nodded.
"Fine," he said. "If you insist. Lyon can come if he really wants to, and you guys can stay here."
Erza and Natsu exchanged a look before nodding.
"We'll be by later, then," Erza said. "But let us know if you need anything."
Gray lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of their meager cover. Lyon hurried after him, having no doubt he'd be left behind if he couldn't keep up.
The whispers started immediately. Spectators stared unabashedly and put their heads together to speculate in low voices.
Gray held his head high and looked straight ahead, expression carefully blank and unchanging. He didn't acknowledge the blatant attention at all. His display of cool nonchalance was so convincing that Lyon sensed exactly how badly they were getting under his skin.
Lyon did his best to ignore the gawkers. They itched at his skin too, until it felt hot and scratchy all over. As soon as anyone recognized him from the memories Rufus had tossed so carelessly about the arena, the whispered speculation grew tenfold. Lyon had not been the hero of those memories, and he had not come out looking well. At the time, he'd had his reasons for hating Gray and making the foolhardy plans he did, but they had ultimately led him astray. He couldn't help but cringe the whole time his actions were on display. It wasn't something he wanted shoved back in his face, or in the faces of everyone watching from the stands.
He kept his mouth clamped shut and stuck close to Gray's side as they maneuvered through the crowds and out of the stadium. There was no point trying to engage Gray in front of nosy bystanders, and he didn't know what to say anyway.
He breathed a sigh of relief as they slipped outside into the less crowded streets. People still whispered behind their hands here, but there were far fewer of them. Gray kept his chin up and gaze straight ahead even after they'd exited the main thoroughfare and entered the warren of near-deserted side streets, maintaining the same clipped stride.
Lyon paused and looked back towards the arena. Maybe he should have told his team where he was going. They must have guessed that he would be spending the rest of the afternoon with Gray, though. There wasn't much he could do about it now. If he went back, Gray would jump on the opportunity to slink away and sulk on his own.
Lyon shook his head and turned away, and yelped in surprise as he ran straight into a tall, bulky man wrapped in a cloak.
"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back.
The man narrowed his eyes and cast an appraising glance over Lyon, but said nothing as he walked on. Lyon spotted Gray halfway down the street, still walking at the same quick pace. If he had noticed Lyon fall behind, he hadn't bothered to wait.
"Gray!" Lyon called, picking up the pace to something just shy of a jog as he hurried after his friend. "Wait up."
He half expected Gray to ignore him and keep right on his way, but he paused in his tracks and looked back.
"Or how about you keep up," he said, raising an eyebrow. It was about the biggest change of expression Lyon had seen from him since the arena.
Lyon rolled his eyes and cast a look over his shoulder. The man he'd run into had paused in the mouth of the street, partly concealed by the shadow of the building next to him, and seemed to be watching them. One more gawker who had seen the spectacle in the arena and decided it was his business.
"Stop glaring at people," Gray said, tapping one foot against the cobblestones as he waited for Lyon to catch up. He himself showed no interest in the man and hardly even glanced at him. "You'll just make them gossip more."
Lyon huffed and let the man be. "I don't know how you can just ignore them all like that and not get worked up."
Gray shrugged, seeming to pick up on his real concern. "He was dragging up memories and digging through them when they were close to the surface. I can't say exactly how his magic works, but it definitely seemed like he was pulling from the memories each new one brought to mind and looking for the emotionally charged ones. Seemed easiest to starve him out by thinking and feeling nothing at all."
Lyon slowed as he approached and eyed Gray warily. He supposed it made sense and was a clever strategy against a mage intent on trawling your mind, but he much preferred emotional Gray to blank Gray. Blank Gray was impossible to read.
"Well, you've won," he said. "You're not in the arena anymore."
Gray's gaze slid past Lyon, to where the man lingered, and flicked away again just as fast. "It seems easier, for now. Come on."
Lyon smiled a little sadly and ruffled Gray's hair. "You did good. It was an impressive win."
Gray scowled and ducked away, eyes dropping to the ground. "I don't need your approval," he said as he started walking again.
"Whatever you say, baby brother," Lyon said indulgently, falling back into step beside him.
Gray made a displeased scoffing sound in the back of his throat but kept his thoughts to himself. The pause stretched on for several seconds before he said, in a low voice, "It doesn't really feel like a win."
Lyon's smile faded. "No, I suppose it wouldn't."
Gray's hands fidgeted restlessly at his sides as they crossed another street and were met by a gaggle of teenagers across the way who smirked and laughed behind their hands.
"Maybe we should go back," he muttered. "It looks like I'm running away."
"Screw that," Lyon said vehemently. "You wouldn't have won if you ran away. It doesn't matter what they think. What matters is what's best for you, and that's not to be stuck dealing with everyone's stares for the rest of the day. You deserve a break. At the very least, you can recover from your fight in peace."
"I guess."
"Also, Erza said so and she's scary."
Gray cracked a half-smile, although his amusement was thin and faded quickly. "I wouldn't dare argue with Erza."
"Who would?"
Lyon followed Gray across the street and into the lobby of the hotel.
"Good afternoon," the girl behind the desk said absently. Then her head whipped back and her eyes went wide. "Oh! You're the one who just won against Rufus! Not bad for being dead for seven years." She frowned at Lyon. "And you're–"
"Yes," Lyon said shortly. "Good day to you as well."
He hurriedly shepherded Gray into the stairwell and didn't relax until they were safely inside the room with the door shut tight behind them.
"You're awfully jumpy," Gray muttered.
"Yes, well, I'm the villain of the hour here. At least I shouldn't be as memorable, I guess. Unless everyone starts connecting me to that horrid little show."
"I think Rufus is the villain of the hour."
"Maybe, but I sure looked like an asshole."
Gray hesitated, but then said, "You are an asshole."
"Hey…"
Gray flopped onto the bed with a sigh, burying his face in the pillows. "At least half of Fiore didn't watch you kill your master live-action."
Lyon hovered helplessly near the door. He should have seen that coming, but it was still a knife twisting in his chest. Rufus's display was more than the heart-pounding terror of Deliora and helplessness of being a child. It was also the grief of murdered parents and the hurt of lost brothers and the guilt of dead masters.
"You didn't kill her," Lyon said with a sigh, perching on the edge of the bed. "We were children, and we made mistakes."
"Semantics," Gray muttered into the pillow.
"No, it's not. You didn't know what would happen. None of us did. The only one who killed Ur was Deliora. Anyway, iced shell doesn't actually kill the caster, right? So really–"
"You don't believe that," Gray interrupted. "You never have."
Lyon looked up at the ceiling. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, searching for the best way to handle this. He had never been good with words, and Gray was a moody brat.
The truth was, he didn't believe it. As far as he was aware, ice wasn't alive and neither was water. The remnants of Ur might still exist in some form or another, but pretending she was alive seemed disingenuous. But everyone needed to believe in something, and he didn't think this was such a bad thing to believe in.
"No, but you do," he said gently.
Gray huffed out a laugh like a sigh, and Lyon stared holes into the back of his head, wishing he could see his face. He couldn't tell if Gray was still holding himself together with an iron fist or was starting to relax his grip and go to pieces. It could go either way. If Gray was upset enough, he might crumble now that he was away from the crowds of bystanders. But he wouldn't want to fall apart in front of Lyon, so he might try to keep it together until he was well and truly alone. Gray preferred to break in solitude and pull himself back together before facing the world again. And Lyon did think it would all catch up to him sooner or later.
"Does it matter?" Gray mumbled. "Ice doesn't exactly have a full life. Neither does water. The end result is pretty much the same."
"Maybe," Lyon said, hesitantly reaching out to touch Gray's shoulder. "But I think she'd prefer if you believed she was still alive out there somehow, watching over us."
Gray trembled under Lyon's hand, just a little, like his entire body was tensed up with the effort of not falling apart. His breath hitched in a strange way too, but he muffled it in the pillow.
When he didn't respond, Lyon bit his lip. He didn't know how to comfort Gray at the best of times, much less when he was so closed off.
"It's okay to be upset," he said. "I am too. Having it all dragged up again… It hurts."
His voice wavered at the end, and he cleared his throat. His worry for Gray had eclipsed some of his own feelings on the matter, but seeing Deliora rampage about like it had just stepped out of the past and been reborn had been terrifying, memory or not. And watching their old trials and sins and heartbreaks… Well, it had all hit him like a punch to the gut.
Gray shifted and peeked out at Lyon, as if sensing something in his voice. Then he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes shone dark and glossy, and tears streaked his face. Lyon hadn't realized he'd been crying into the pillow, and he knew better than to acknowledge it if he wanted to get anywhere.
"Yeah," Gray muttered. "It sucks."
Lyon couldn't disagree with that. Swinging his feet up onto the bed, he stretched out beside Gray and stared up sightlessly at the ceiling as well.
"It was a pretty shitty trick," he agreed.
"Yeah." Gray let out a shuddering breath. "It was… It wasn't like watching a recording. It was like reliving it, like it dug up all the old emotions too. I felt like a child again, small and stupid and…helpless, I guess. Scared." He flung an arm over his eyes. "I don't know. Stupid to get so caught up in the past."
Lyon listened to Gray's uneven breathing for a minute before saying, "Do you want me to go beat him up for you? I totally would."
"I'm capable of beating him up myself, thanks."
"I suppose. You did knock him out quite neatly, although it seemed to me that you let him off awfully light."
Gray sighed. "Honestly, I wanted to beat him into the ground until his brain was as scrambled as mine. But that wouldn't really make me any better than Sabertooth, would it? I already let anger and resentment get the better of me before. Revenge sounds satisfying in theory, but it always seems to destroy something along with it. I don't want to go that route again, no matter how much of an asshole he was."
Lyon swallowed down the lump in his throat and shifted ever so slightly so that their shoulders just barely brushed against each other. He was seven years older and wiser than he'd been when he'd interacted with Gray before Tenrou, and that difference had struck him the first time they'd reunited. Gray was exactly the same as he'd been seven years ago, and he hadn't had the chance to grow and mature the same way Lyon had. But, Lyon realized, that didn't mean Gray hadn't come a long, long way all on his own.
"You're not a kid anymore," he said quietly. "You've grown up a lot. And as justified as it would have been if you'd hurt him more, that you didn't proves how far you've come. You're not that kid, Gray. You've come a long way since then. We both have."
Gray didn't reply, and Lyon let it go. They lay side by side in silence, watching the ceiling while Lyon pretended not to hear Gray trying to get his breathing back under control.
"Sorry I made you look like an asshole," Gray muttered after a few minutes.
Lyon felt his eyebrow tick upwards at the unexpected detour, but all he said was, "I don't think you made me look like anything. Rufus did. And I did it to myself, I guess."
Gray hummed noncommittally to himself. "They didn't see the rest, though," he mumbled.
"The rest of what?"
Gray hesitated, narrowing his eyes at the ceiling. "They didn't see how you came back for me afterwards," he said finally. "Even after everything. They didn't see the kindnesses you showed me or the second chances you gave me. But I did."
Lyon stared at him very hard, but Gray stared resolutely upwards, mouth pressed into a tight line. The knot in Lyon's chest constricted painfully and then loosened, and he smiled just a little. There had been a lot of forgiveness on both sides of the equation, and many kindnesses couched in banter and bickering. Lyon had looked out for Gray as he should have, and Gray had looked out for Lyon too. The truth was, Gray was the one who had offered the olive branch in the first place and extended Lyon a second chance on Galuna, cracking the door open just wide enough for Lyon to wedge his foot in if he chose to. And Lyon had not once regretted taking him up on the silent offer and chasing after him like he should have done so many years ago.
"That's enough, then," Lyon said, because it was. No matter what anyone else thought of him, Gray's opinion was the one that mattered on this particular topic. He cared more about what Gray thought of him than about the opinions of every person in the stands combined. When Gray only squirmed and glared at the ceiling, Lyon huffed out a small laugh and obligingly changed the subject. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "Before your friends get here."
Gray groaned. "Absolutely nothing. Mentally prepare myself."
"For what? They aren't going to think any less of you."
"Maybe not, but I never wanted them to see that. I didn't even want to tell them about it. I spent so long hiding my past, and now they've seen it and half of Fiore has seen it, and I can't say anything to brush it off or make it sound better because they watched it happening. What am I supposed to do?"
Gray's breathing went quick and short and sharp again, with an edge of panic. Lyon could imagine how overwhelming it would seem, to have his privacy ripped away all at once and still have to face the world. It would have been bad enough if he wasn't still riddled with guilt and ashamed of his mistakes and afraid of having them exposed.
In truth, most people would eventually forget what they'd seen here today, or it would just become another 'fun fact' they associated with Gray's face the way some people collected stats on well-known mages. But it would be overwhelming until that point. The stands had been abuzz during and after the match: fear of the demon's image, shock at the turn things had taken, distaste for Rufus's tactics, pity for Gray. Lyon wasn't stupid enough to think Gray wanted the world's pity either, even if it seemed preferable to hatred or disgust or blame.
Fairy Tail would not forget, though. Gray was one of them, and they cared for their own. Lyon didn't doubt they were rattled even if they had already known the bare bones, and he couldn't control how they reacted to it. Hopefully, they knew Gray well enough not to make too big of a fuss.
"Nothing Rufus showed painted you in a bad light," Lyon said. "All anyone saw was a child who had his parents and master ripped away, who was grieving and upset and made a mistake. A boy who begged his master not to die and took the blame for her death anyway and nearly died himself trying to put things right." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know you don't want them to see that either, you don't want their pity, but of course they're going to be worried. There was only one monster rampaging around that arena, and it wasn't you."
Gray turned his head to the side and buried his face in Lyon's shoulder. Lyon eyed him sidelong as his tears seeped through his shirt and waited for Gray's body to stop trembling with tension and silent tears. He looked back up at the ceiling and closed his eyes and waited patiently.
Eventually Gray calmed and settled, but he didn't move and neither did Lyon. There was only so much words could do, and Lyon had said his. If all Gray needed was for him to be here right now, he could do that.
They lay there for a long time, until the doorknob jiggled and low voices drifted in from the hallway. Gray sat up as if burned and settled cross-legged on the bed to eye the door as it opened and Erza peered inside. Lyon sat up as well.
"How are you doing?" Erza asked, looking between Gray and Lyon. "Can we come in?"
"It's your room too," Gray said gruffly, looking away. "We're fine."
Erza eyed Lyon, who shrugged. She stepped into the room, followed by Natsu and Lucy, who was looking a bit more like herself again.
"I heard what happened," Lucy said, ducking around the other side of the bed to fuss at Gray. "I'm so sorry, Gray. That was a horrible thing for him to do."
Gray mumbled something unintelligible, and Lyon stood up and moved away from the bed. He would only be in the way now. He supposed he'd done his part and now it was Fairy Tail's turn.
"How has he been?" Erza asked in a low voice, sidling up beside him.
"He was pretty upset earlier, but he's calmed down some. You understand he is…not happy that everyone saw that."
Erza winced. "Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about that."
"Except beat up Sabertooth," Natsu muttered.
Erza did not disagree or warn him off. "Thanks for looking after him," she said to Lyon. "I was hoping you could talk him down since you shared a lot of that with him. It wasn't something he really wanted to share with us."
At least they were self-aware enough to realize it.
"Well, I tried," he said. "He probably just needs a little time to come to terms with it."
Erza flashed him a sad smile. "Take care of yourself too."
She and Natsu joined Lucy around the bed, while Gray studiously avoided their gazes and insisted he was fine.
"Everyone's pretty pissed at Rufus for that stunt," Natsu volunteered. "Sabertooth isn't making a lot of friends. Everyone's saying your win was really impressive."
Gray hunched his shoulders and stared down at the bedspread and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Lucy asked, perplexed. "None of it was your fault."
Whatever he said next was so quiet that even Lyon couldn't hear it from near the door.
"Gray Fullbuster," Erza said firmly, bracing her hands on her hips and fixing him with a hard look, "we are not ashamed of you. The only one who embarrassed himself and his guild today was Rufus, and no one is going to say otherwise. You did everything right. You were strong. And we don't think any less of you."
Gray darted a look up and met her eyes for half a second before looking away and clearing his throat. "What did I miss?" he asked, subdued.
Erza blew out a breath and rolled her eyes at the unsubtle change of subject. Natsu, on the other hand, was all too eager to seize on it.
"Oh, there were some pretty cool fights!" he said. "So there was this one guy from…"
Lyon took that as his cue to leave. He could find out what he'd missed from his own guild, and it seemed like Gray was in good hands now. He would check back in tomorrow, but for now he edged towards the door and cracked it open quietly, not keen on disturbing the little get-together.
As he slipped out the door and reached back to close it, he caught Gray watching him.
Thank you, Gray mouthed as Natsu chattered away happily.
Lyon smiled back and closed the door behind him.