.

Prayers

Lyon believed that somewhere, somehow, some way, Gray and the others had survived the dragon attack on Tenrou. He wished, he dreamed, he hoped, he prayed. He had to. He would get his answers one day.

Where do you go when your prayers are answered?

.

Lyon didn't believe it when he first heard. For one, there were no more dragons. Two, a whole island couldn't just disappear. And three, Fairy Tail mages didn't die.

"I'm sorry," Yuka said solemnly.

"For what?" Lyon asked. "Those guys are all too stubborn to die."

And because he believed that, he joined in on all the search parties and threw himself into following up on every lead he could find. They went out to Tenrou first, joining Blue Pegasus on their fancy ship to look for clues.

Lyon couldn't help but stare. Tenrou was gone. It was just a wide stretch of empty water, with no land in sight. An uncomfortable feeling squirmed in his stomach.

Please let us find him.

Where could they have gone, if there was no island left at all?

Please let him be okay.

They searched and searched and searched, but there was only so much they could do. In the end, they kept coming back to that nonexistent island. There was nothing they could do. They would turn back.

"We can't just leave," Lyon protested. "They have to be here somewhere."

People started exchanging looks, but he only scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry," Yuka said carefully. "I know how much you care about Gray, but there's nothing to find here."

"Who says it has anything to do with that little brat?" Lyon grumbled, looking away. "We have to find all of them. Even him, I suppose."

His team shared another look. They had been looking at him strangely lately, like he was glass and they were waiting for him to shatter. He wasn't going to shatter. Why would he?

But as evening bled into night and they headed for home, he found himself standing out by himself on deck, looking out blankly over the water. It had started raining, which explained the water on his face but not why it tasted salty. That must be from the sea spray.

Someone stepped up beside him, and he glanced over to see Sherry watching him with sad eyes.

"It's not too late," she said quietly. "Have faith."

That seemed unbearably difficult. Lyon knew—he knew—that Gray couldn't be dead, but somehow it seemed hard to have faith that things would work out. Seeing that empty water, that nothingness, that complete absence of everything, left a sour taste in his mouth. A hopeless sort of feeling.

Faith was hard, but he hoped and wished and prayed. He hoped that they'd find Gray and quickly, he wished that Gray would appear on his doorstep one day and laugh it all off as a joke, he prayed that Gray was alive and well.

Those prayers got him through a lot. Through seven years, in fact. He still prayed and held on to his secret little hopes long after most people had given up. He continued to keep an eye out for leads. Whenever any of the other guilds went out on their periodic halfhearted search missions, he often accompanied them.

He grew older. Seven years older, in fact, and the world grew colder around him. He wondered how Gray would have changed. He was unhappy that he'd gotten cheated out of watching his little brother grow up. He'd already missed all that time after Ur's death, and he wasn't supposed to have lost another seven years.

If there was one plus, it was that as he matured, he found it easier to hold on to a quiet, deep-seated faith. Even as things seemed more and more impossible, he was firm in that silent conviction that everything would work out. The world grew colder and colder anyway, threatening to freeze over his hopes and dreams like in those first months. After each failed mission, it seemed like life crashed over him like a wave, cold reality pressing in. But he held his head high and pressed on.

He moved on with his life, at least after those first few months when he'd been unable to function. He moved on, in a way, although the world had lost some undefinable spark that he knew was related to Gray. Nothing was quite as bright or happy or beautiful, not when Gray's fate remained shrouded in mystery.

Still, he went about his life and said his prayers quietly to himself when he stared up at the darkened ceiling late at night. Let me find him. Let him be okay. He has to be alive out there somewhere.

Sometimes, oftentimes when he'd been thinking of Gray too much and all those hopes and wishes and prayers had risen to a fever pitch, he'd dream of his missing brother. Usually there were just flashes of Gray that disappeared before he could grasp them. Sometimes they were actually pleasant dreams. And the nightmares, of course, which were too graphic and heartbreaking to lose their edge even in the brightest daylight.

The dreams hurt, because Lyon woke up and Gray was still missing. The nice dreams were the worst. There was always that lazy moment between wakefulness and sleep, just before his brain had fully awoken, where it seemed that Gray was right there. And then Lyon would blink the sleep out of his eyes and realize the truth, and his heart would plummet precipitously into his stomach. That was the absolute worst feeling.

But then he had the dream that changed everything.

Lyon was minding his own business when a snowball hit him in the back of the head so hard that he stumbled forward. He spun around and spotted Gray standing behind him in the snow, grinning widely as he tossed another snowball up and down, up and down in preparation. That achingly familiar smile and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes made Lyon's heart lift. There was such a pure, childlike joy about Gray as he bounced in the snow, something that he rarely ever let leak past his normal façade.

"You're getting slow in your old age," he teased.

Lyon laughed. "Yeah right! There's no way you're going to beat me!"

The next snowball hit him directly in the face, flying too quickly for him to even see, much less dodge.

"Whatever you say." Gray seemed unimpressed. "I always was better at snowball fights."

Lyon opened his mouth to protest, but then that uncomfortable niggling feeling began nibbling at the back of his mind and he had a flash of clarity. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?" he asked, his good cheer vanishing abruptly.

"Huh?" Gray gave him a look that was both puzzled and impatient. "What makes you say that?"

"You're still with me sometimes when I sleep," Lyon said quietly.

Gray pulled a face. "That's weird. You're being weird. Do you wanna have a fight or not? I understand if you want to back out since I'm obviously going to kick your ass, but…"

Lyon hesitated. It wasn't real. And yet, could he really pass up the opportunity to hang out with his little brother one more time, even if it was just a dream? It would hurt in the morning, but he could take advantage of these few minutes.

So he pasted on a grin and lost himself in the moment. Gray won, of course. Even dream-Gray was an unparalleled master of snowball fights. As he gloated and pranced about gleefully, Lyon couldn't find it in his heart to get worked up over wounded pride for once. He just watched with a small smile that was tinged with sadness when he remembered that this wasn't real.

Gray paused in his triumphant teasing, and a suddenly somber look passed over his features as he studied Lyon with tired, melancholy eyes. "You're an idiot," he said. "And you're annoying and you drive me crazy. But I love you, you know. Don't forget that."

Lyon swallowed hard and his lips trembled. "I love you too," he whispered. "Even if you're the most frustrating little brother in existence. I'm going to find you one of these days, I promise."

"Yeah…" Gray stepped forward, hesitated, and slipped his arms around Lyon.

Lyon couldn't breathe. Gray's presence was so warm and solid and comforting. Usually he wasn't allowed to touch in dreams. If he tried, Gray would disappear. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Gray too, afraid that doing so would result in the other man immediately vanishing.

But Gray stayed and Lyon hugged him tighter in relief, crushing him to his chest. He let out a shuddering breath and felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Gray mumbled. "Take care of yourself."

"Huh? What–?"

Gray's form seemed to waver, and suddenly he wasn't solid anymore. Lyon's arms passed right through him, and the older mage caught one last glimpse of sad eyes before he vanished.

"Gray!"

Lyon spun around in a circle, looking about wildly. When he turned, he found himself standing at the end of a long, white-tiled hallway stretching on for as far as the eye could see. He spotted Gray at the other end, so far away that he looked small and insubstantial. Lyon called his name, but he continued walking away and didn't look back.

Lyon had to reach him. He knew—he knew—that he had to reach Gray before Gray reached the end of the hallway. Something bad would happen at the end. Lyon couldn't let it happen.

He took off running, his boots pounding loudly against the tile in time to the erratic beating of his heart. "Gray!" he called.

Gray just kept walking at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor dallying. He didn't respond.

Lyon ran, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps. No matter how fast he ran, the hallway continued to stretch and stretch and stretch so that he and Gray were always the same distance apart. He should be getting closer. It didn't feel like he was. The wind whistled in his ears, pushing him on. He had been chasing after Gray for so long that he no longer knew what else to do with his life, but today was the day he would finally catch him.

He stumbled over his own feet, and the wall next to him fell away abruptly to reveal a sheer cliff, craggy with rock and plummeting down to the center of the earth. The other wall collapsed as well, leaving him on a narrow, crumbling walkway suspended high in the air.

He ran, keeping his eyes straight ahead on Gray's back so that he didn't panic himself by looking down the deep chasms. Pieces of tile and stone flaked away under his feet and crumbled from the edges as he passed, and cracks shot across the path.

And he ran. He glanced back only once at a loud crash, to see that the path was collapsing behind him, slowly catching up. The ground shuddered like an earthquake and split in half right in front of him like a jagged fault line. He leapt over the gouge without a second thought, flying along the disintegrating walkway in a desperate attempt to reach Gray.

And then the rock beneath him gave way and he found himself plunging down, down, down. His cry was choked off as his throat tightened in fear.

Something grabbed his wrist, pulling him up short and nearly dislocating his shoulder with the force. He gasped and looked up, wanting to cry in relief.

Gray was on his knees at the edge of the precipice, leaning down to grasp him firmly. He began pulling Lyon up.

"Gray!" Lyon gasped.

Gray smiled, but his eyes were solemn. Lyon fell to the ground in relief, trembling and gasping for breath. He was safe. And he had caught Gray. Or, rather, Gray had caught him.

"Gray, you–"

Gray shook his head silently and stepped back, his dark eyes never leaving Lyon's face. The ground beneath him gave way and he vanished as silently as he had come, falling down into the gorge below.

"Gray!" Lyon screamed in panic, stumbling to his feet and lunging for the side. It was too late. Gray was gone, and Lyon was left alone on an island in the sky with nothing but air and dangerous cliff faces around him.

"No," he mumbled. "No, no, no."

He woke with a gasp, flailing about frantically. Gray. Gray was gone. Gray had fallen.

Please let me find him. Please let him be okay.

This dream meant something. Lyon could feel it. It left him jittery and on edge.

And when he heard that Blue Pegasus was taking their fancy ship out again in one of their periodic sweeps of the waters where Tenrou had once been, he immediately volunteered to go despite his team's gentle cautionary words and worried looks.

This was it, the day they would find Gray and the others. He could feel it.

He was vindicated when a glowing yellow sphere rose from beneath the waves and a golden-haired girl appeared for a moment standing on the water. He had no idea what to make of that, but the sphere fell away to reveal an unharmed island and his heart lifted in sudden, wild hope.

He has to be there. He has to be okay. Please.

The Fairy Tail mages weren't hard to find, although they were dazed and confused and hadn't aged a day in seven years. Lyon was glad they were alive, but he didn't pay them much mind. There was one person in particular that he needed to find and needed to find now.

He looked around desperately, and a sudden spike of elation stabbed through his body as he spotted a familiar shock of black hair. There was Gray still sprawled across the ground, his eyes closed in the sleep he hadn't yet woken from. Lyon darted forward and slammed to his knees in the dirt, grabbing Gray by the shoulders and drinking in the face he hadn't seen anywhere but in his dreams for seven years.

"Gray!"

Why wasn't he moving? The other mages were getting up and walking around and asking confused questions. Why was Gray so still?

"Hey! Gray, wake up!"

Lyon shook him gently and got no response, so shook him more forcefully. He placed trembling fingers on the inside of his wrist, on his neck. The world fell out from underneath his feet.

"Hey, droopy eyes," Natsu said, strolling over. "Quit sleeping, already. Lazy bones. They tell me we haven't fought for seven years, and that's unacceptable. Come on, let's go!"

Seven years and a lifetime of prayers. And now where was he supposed to go from here?

Lyon folded over Gray's limp body, the tears breaking loose and tracking down his cheeks as he shook and shook and shook.

"You all are alive," he whispered in a trembling voice. "So why isn't he?"

.

Where do you go when your prayers are answered

but the answer is no?

Note: Lol I don't have an explanation. I just thought it was wonderfully tragic to have Gray somehow be the lone non-survivor, especially if Lyon came along to find him. And yes, it's a song fic. *Gasp!* I normally hate those things, but this is the only kind I can really stand, without huge chunks of copyrighted lyrics. Where Do We Go by Lindsey Stirling and Carah Faye. Beautiful violin instrumentals and beautiful vocals and lyrics. I incorporated a lot of the lyric visuals in here.

emmahoshi: Sole non-survivor is a tragic plot too X) And yeah, I was not impressed how there were basically zero real consequences or development in canon after seven years lol It's not a song fic because it's AU lol It's both. Listen to the song or Google the lyrics, and you'll see why it's a song fic. It's also AU, depending on how you define AU. I sort of split that category into alternate timeline AU and alternate universe AU—the former being more like this where we keep the canon world but change canon events (also included would be the "Because" verse because it specifically altered everything with Memento Mori and the aftermath), and the latter being where we change the canon universe (e.g., the dreaded high school AU; also included would be "Living Legend"). And then there's a sort of weird in-between category like "DoR" and "Recon", which have some elements of both but which I mostly count as the former. But I kind of just call them all "AU". Personally, I won't read anything with OCs in main non-villain roles. Not interesting to me. I only use them as villains and supporting characters when I need a charrie but the canon ones won't work. They're never going to be major players, though. (EDIT: Same. I have a few more alternate universe AUs I actually really want to do now, but I can't stand them at all if they don't incorporate enough canon elements lol Although I've been branching out a little because I want some stories where I can file off identifying information and give them to people if they want to see my writing but I don't want them to know I write fanfic lol Thanks lol I can't find anything to read these days around here :( There's very little I can stand to read in the FT corner of the site these days.)