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Chapter 6

(In which Gray's annoyingness finally comes in handy and Lyon incurs a debt.)

"Lyon? Hey, Lyon. Wake up."

Lyon squinted groggily, his vision blurred and smeared with red. His head pounded with splitting pain and something heavy pressed down on him, pinning him to the ground even if he had felt capable of moving. Gray's ghostly face swam slowly in and out of focus directly in front of him, and he groaned.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Gray waved a hand in front of Lyon's face.

If Lyon didn't know any better, he'd say Gray looked worried, but that would be an easy thing to imagine while drifting in and out of consciousness. The weight on his back drove the air out of his lungs, and he couldn't even think of speaking between his shallow breaths. He managed to nod ever so slightly.

"Good, that's good. Lyon, I need you to listen to me. You've already been out for a few minutes, and no one seems to have heard the commotion down here. They can't hear me, and I can't get you out since I can't touch anything. If we want to attract someone's attention, it has to be you. Can you speak at all? Call for help?"

Lyon blinked at him uncomprehendingly, slowly piecing together the words through the viselike throbbing in his head. It took painfully long to parse out the meaning, and he wasn't awake enough to worry about the implications. He closed his eyes.

"Hey!" Gray said loudly. "Don't you dare go to sleep. Open your eyes right now."

Lyon did not take orders from Gray, but he'd do anything to quiet the noise stabbing through his skull like an ice pick behind his eyeballs. He forced his eyes open again and tried to summon up a glower. Gray didn't look particularly cowed, so it probably didn't look like much of one.

"Stay awake. You hit your head pretty hard. It can be dangerous to sleep right after getting a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up? You can blink the number."

Lyon stared vacantly at the pale fingers wavering in front of his eyes. It looked alarmingly like six. His best guess was that Gray was holding up three fingers and he just couldn't tell they were doubled because all of them were a bit see-through already. He blinked three times.

It must have been the right answer, because Gray let out a breath and rocked back on his heels. "Okay, then. If you can move a little or speak, now would be a good time to try making some noise. Try, Lyon. Otherwise it might be morning before someone finds you."

Lyon made a halfhearted attempt, but his limbs were too heavy to move more than a few centimeters and his cry was little more than a wheezy breath that ended in a groan. His eyelids fluttered.

"Stay awake!"

He wished Gray would shut up and let him sleep.

"Okay, if you can't get out of this right now… I guess the next best thing is to stay awake until someone finds you. Just listen to me, okay? Don't close your eyes."

The next length of time could best be described as hell, and seemed to stretch on forever. Lyon drifted in and out of awareness. Sometimes things came into sharper focus, other times they were blurry and he could hardly make out Gray's features or understand his words, and occasionally he slipped into blissful unconsciousness for a few seconds until Gray's caterwauling dragged him back.

Gray, meanwhile, never shut up. He rambled on about anything and everything, although half the time it was too much effort to decipher what he was actually saying and Lyon's ears felt full of cotton wool. But his voice was always there, keeping Lyon grounded. Sometimes he even started asking questions, badgering Lyon until he shook his head or nodded or blinked to his satisfaction. Lyon hated those most of all, because even the smallest movements were painful and forced him to rouse himself a little more.

Gray had always been annoying, but he truly outdid himself this time, face suffused with hard-edged determination as he rambled on and demanded answers and yelled Lyon awake if he ever drifted. Occasionally, in the sleepy space between awareness and unconsciousness, Lyon held on to his voice like a lifeline, reassured that there was someone there. Most of the time, it was incredibly annoying. If Gray sensed his displeasure, it didn't deter him from carrying on.

Then, finally, Gray paused for just a moment, cocking his head to the side. "Do you hear that?" he asked. Lyon didn't bother shaking his head. All he could hear was Gray's incessant prattling, and half the time even that sounded like white noise. "Someone's coming. Or is going to pass by."

Gray turned back to Lyon, new urgency written across his face. "Lyon, listen. This is it. You need to get their attention, okay? It doesn't have to be much since they're so close. Just call out or try shifting some of the debris to make a noise. Anything. Come on, you can do it. Don't miss this chance."

Somewhere in the back of Lyon's mind, something jolted awake. The urgency—and was that barely concealed panic?—in Gray's voice reminded Lyon that it was vitally important to get help. If he missed this chance and whoever was outside passed by without coming in, how long might it take someone to find him? Could he last that long? He had no idea how long it had been, but he knew it was getting harder and harder to keep himself from slipping away.

He still couldn't get enough of a breath to make more than the smallest of sounds, but he gathered what little remained of his strength and kicked his leg out. It didn't go far, but it managed to dislodge some bit of rubble that fell to the floor.

"Good, that's good," Gray said. He was talking fast, words quick and clipped and tripping over each other. "Good job, Lyon. Can you try again?"

Lyon was spent, but he shifted his other leg just an inch or two, and something else clattered to the ground.

Gray's face lit up with relief. "They heard you," he said. "They're coming."

The sound of footsteps and someone else's raised voice smeared together in Lyon's ears just as his vision went black again.

Lyon's return to consciousness was slow and leisurely. It took a few moments for the world to stop wavering and click into place. He was in his room, tucked into his bed like any normal morning, except that he felt like he'd been hit by a train. Something shifted beside him, and he turned his head to look. Pain exploded behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut again with a sharp gasp.

"You're awake!" Toby said. "How are you feeling? I wouldn't move too much. You got hit pretty hard."

Prying his eyes back open, Lyon squinted at Toby and Yuka, who had risen from the chairs positioned at his bedside and crowded around him.

"What…?"

"Do you remember what happened?" Yuka asked. "Part of the scaffolding collapsed on you. It was a section we hadn't replaced yet, so… I guess it's a good thing we're rebuilding. I think we're just going to take down the rest of the temporary scaffolding since it's obviously not as stable as we'd hoped. It might take a little longer, but we don't want it collapsing on anyone else."

"I found you," Toby volunteered. "We don't know how long you were trapped there, though. Sherry isn't back yet, or she'd be here too. Are you okay? We were worried."

It began coming back to Lyon in bits and pieces: the argument with Gray, the collapse of the supports, the hours spent weaving drunkenly in and out of consciousness with only Gray's panicked voice tethering him to reality.

He groaned. "Oh. Right. I'm fine, I think. How bad does it look?"

Yuka and Toby exchanged uncertain looks.

"Unfortunately, we don't really have a healer here," Yuka said. "We weren't sure you would want to bring one to the island and your condition didn't seem dire, so we just bandaged you up and kept an eye on you. You can go see a healer in town now that you're awake, or we can bring one here if you want. We just didn't want to go that far unless things got worse."

"That's good," Lyon said through gritted teeth. His head felt like it might split open at any second. "Don't bring anyone here. I'll see a healer if necessary, but hopefully everything will heal on its own."

"There was a lot of blood, but the injuries themselves didn't look too serious. I think you've definitely got a concussion, and your back and ribs seem to have taken the worst of it. You'll be sore for a while, but I don't think anything is actually broken. Luckily, most of the debris missed you. You took more of a glancing blow to the head and there was a heavy beam across your back, but the rest wasn't as bad."

"We're sorry we didn't find you sooner," Toby said, contrite. "You must have been down there for a while. It must have been awful, being trapped there alone."

Lyon started at the reminder. He had not been alone at all, and Gray had not let him forget it. The whole incident with Gray itched at him, a problem that needed to be solved, and he suddenly wanted to get rid of his friends so that he could address the elephant in the room.

He turned his head, trying to move as little as possible, and spotted Gray across the room. The ghost sat perched on the windowsill, staring out the window and ignoring the conversation. Lyon could glean nothing from the set of Gray's shoulders or profile of his face.

"You did everything right," Lyon said. "Thanks for taking care of me. I think I'm just going to rest for a while. Feel free to go work on the construction. I'm fine now."

"If you think that's best…" Yuka did not sound thrilled at the dismissal, but he didn't argue. "We scrounged up some painkillers, and they're on your table here if you need them. They might make you drowsy, though. You really shouldn't sleep right after a concussion, but… You've been out for a few hours and seem to have woken up okay, so maybe it's fine now. I'm not really sure. We'll leave someone just outside so that you can shout if you need anything."

Lyon thanked him and tried not to look too impatient as his friends shuffled out of the room.

"Why did you save me?" he demanded as soon as the door shut behind them.

Gray didn't even look at him. "I didn't do anything at all. And it's not like you were going to die. It looked worse than it was. Head wounds bleed a lot."

"You didn't know that," Lyon accused. "You were worried and kept trying to keep me awake. Why?"

Gray shrugged. "If you die, I expect I'll go along with you. That didn't sound fun."

That answer did not satisfy Lyon at all.

"You're already dying, remember? I said I wouldn't help you get back to your body. I don't see why you wouldn't rather take me down with you. And thwart my plans while you're at it. I told you that the only reason everyone agreed to melt the ice is because they think I can defeat Deliora. Without me, they'll stop the ritual, at least until they find someone to take my place. You've seemed very intent on stopping what we're doing here, and you had what looked like the perfect opportunity. Why not take it?"

Gray stared out the window silently for a long time, leaving Lyon to seethe. "We were friends once," he said finally, sounding more tired than anything. "You might drive me crazy, but I don't want you to die."

Lyon stared at him, his annoyance and resentment slowly draining away. After everything he had done and said and threatened, he truly did not deserve even that much consideration from Gray. He couldn't imagine trying so hard to save someone's life while they were trying to kill him. So maybe he would have been fine even without Gray's intervention and the situation had just seemed more dire than it was, but neither of them had known that at the time.

And however annoying that intervention might have been, Gray had been there through it all and done his best to help. For a few woozy hours, Gray had been the only one Lyon could rely on. And although Gray had had time to pull himself together since then, Lyon still had hazy memories of his urgency bordering on panic. He had been genuinely concerned, despite everything.

He was still responsible for what had happened to Ur and Lyon still had a hard time swallowing that, but at least it had just been a stupid mistake by a stupid kid rather than malice. It had never made much of a difference to Lyon before, but he had to admit that deliberately waiting for someone to die instead of offering help was just as bad, if not worse. If he couldn't forgive Gray for Ur's death, how could Gray forgive Lyon for doing his best to kill him, or at least watch him die?

The boy Lyon had known might have been too eaten up by bitterness and anger and the fierce need for revenge to offer a helping hand to the one hurting him. But Lyon supposed it had been a decade, and maybe Gray had grown up a little since then.

He wished Gray had stood back and done nothing. It would have made things easier, without the unexpected kindness itching at his conscience. He preferred when things were black and white.

Gray stared resolutely out the window, apparently content to sweep this incident under the rug. Lyon let out a breath.

"Right, then," he said. "It seems like I'm going to be stuck here with nothing to do for now, so I suppose it will be your job to entertain me."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"You love nothing more than talking, don't you? Like you said, we have a lot to catch up on. You might as well tell me what you've been up to, since I have nothing better to do."

Gray finally looked over, eyes glassy with surprise and an edge of wariness. Lyon looked away.

Gray didn't say anything for a long time, and Lyon began to think they had long since passed the point of having a friendly chat. Then something flickered at the edge of his vision, and Gray perched hesitantly at the end of the bed. He still eyed Lyon like he was waiting for a trap to spring shut, but there was something soft and almost vulnerable in his face too.

Lyon didn't like it. It was easier to hate Gray when he was standoffish and sarcastic and infuriatingly self-righteous.

"Okay?" Gray said softly, his voice lilting upwards like a question. "Well… I wandered around for a bit. I didn't really have anywhere to go, so I just roamed around looking for…" He trailed off, suddenly looking very sorry that he'd opened his mouth at all.

"Looking for what?" Lyon asked, narrowing his eyes.

Gray wavered a moment longer, but then relented with a sigh. "I was looking for a mage strong enough to undo iced shell," he said wearily. Lyon chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hadn't expected to have this part of his story in common. Gray eyed him sidelong as if expecting recriminations, but Lyon held his peace. "I didn't find one, obviously, and I didn't get as far as whatever magic you're doing here." Defensiveness crept into his voice as he added, "But I did look."

"And then what?" Lyon asked neutrally. He wasn't going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

Gray relaxed slightly. "I got into a lot of trouble, mostly. That's just how I was. And then I ended up joining a guild." He paused again, visibly considering his next words. Lyon waited patiently, knowing he had been leery of sharing which guild. Evidently deciding he had little left to lose, Gray shrugged and said, "Fairy Tail."

"Fairy Tail?" One of Lyon's brows ticked upwards. Fairy Tail was notorious for being one of the most powerful but chaotic guilds in Fiore. It wouldn't have been his first guess. "And did you…make a lot of friends there?"

Gray shrugged again, self-consciously this time. "I mean, not at first. You know how I was, and I was probably even worse after… They're stubborn, though. They were kind to me and taught me a lot. I've even joined a team recently… It's still pretty new, so we'll see how it goes."

"You don't sound terribly excited about it."

"It's not that. They're great. I've known them for a long time, aside from the new girl. I'm just used to working alone, I guess. I don't know how well I'll do on a team."

Lyon sniffed. "Well, you would have been terrible at it when you were a kid, that's for sure. It's been a long time since then, though. You don't seem as neurotic. If you get along with them, I don't see why it wouldn't work."

Gray frowned, and his disquiet must have been profound to let the 'neurotic' comment slip by unchallenged. "They're great," he said again, sounding unconvinced.

"Then what's the problem?"

"What problem?" he asked defensively. "There's no problem. You're the one who's acting like there must be a problem."

Lyon's eyebrows climbed so far up his forehead that he was surprised they didn't fly right off. There was a lot Gray wasn't saying here. A lot he didn't want to say. If Lyon was a better person or liked him more, he might have let it go. As it was, he didn't see any reason not to pry.

"If they aren't the problem, then it's you," he surmised. "If they're great, then you're… What, not good enough?"

Gray flinched back as if Lyon had slapped him. For a second, Lyon thought he'd shut down the conversation for good, but then Gray frowned down at his hands.

"I guess? It's more like… They're all very genuinely nice people. I mean, frustrating and annoying and a real pain in the neck sometimes, but they're so goodhearted and selfless and…"

"And you're not," Lyon finished quietly. He had not meant to dig up Gray's insecurities, but he supposed that was what he got for pushing the issue.

Gray shrugged one shoulder. "Not the same way they are. I keep thinking they're going to realize that one day. They'll realize that I'm holding them back or…"

"Don't deserve their kindness."

Gray pulled a face. "I didn't realize you wanted to play therapist."

"I don't." Lyon looked away. "Maybe you're being too hard on yourself. I can't say much since I haven't seen you in a decade, but you did try to save me even though I'm killing you. That doesn't seem so cold-hearted."

Gray laughed tiredly. "Ah, you're right. It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?"

That wasn't what Lyon had meant at all, but there was nothing he could say to that. Gray would be dead in a few days, so what did it matter whether he was good enough for the team he'd never see again?

"Tell me about them," he said instead.

Gray perked up a little. "Well, Lucy is the new girl. Natsu brought her back to the guild a few weeks ago, and she fit right in. Honestly, it took me years to fit in half as well as she does already. She's a little silly sometimes, but she's really nice and everyone loves her. Natsu is a fire dragon slayer. He was actually raised by a dragon, believe it or not. Yeah, I see that look. I used to think he was crazy, but he really means it. We used to fight and bicker a ton as kids. Still do, I guess, but… I don't know.

"Erza keeps messing with us, though. Says friends shouldn't fight or whatever, but how else are we supposed to entertain ourselves? But she's scary, so we just play nice when she's around. She's the most incredible requip mage out there. You should see her fight. She's honestly really amazing. Oh, and there's also Happy. He's, like…a flying cat? Not sure how that works. Natsu hatched him from an egg he found in the woods when we were kids. He's gotten Natsu out of a lot of jams, and he's good at keeping everyone's spirits up.

"They're a well-balanced team. I think they'll do really well."

Lyon regarded him with narrowed eyes. Gray's face lit up when he talked about his friends, and a distant sort of awe colored his voice at the edges. Like he genuinely liked these people but felt a little apart. Like they were all strong and kind and incredible, and he couldn't quite match up. Or maybe Lyon was reading too much into it based on what Gray had already admitted.

It wasn't his place to address that disconnect, even if he wanted to. Whatever rights he'd had on Gray's life, he'd forfeited long ago. And really, why should he care? That was Gray's problem, and not even one he'd have to solve anymore.

"They sound nice," Lyon offered, noncommittal.

"They are. And… What about you?" Gray twisted his hands in his lap and eyed Lyon uncertainly. "What have you been up to?"

Lyon didn't know how to answer that. He hadn't been here on Galuna for the entire past decade and he'd had his own adventures here and there beforehand, but that driving need to fix things had always run just beneath the surface, pushing him onward. The need to surpass Ur, get revenge, whatever it was. Perhaps something not unlike the driving need for revenge Gray had pursued as a child.

Lyon had no desire to reveal that, though. It seemed like Gray had grown up enough to put that more or less behind him, and Lyon would never admit to lagging behind. Anyway, Gray would just lecture him some more and go back to trying to convince him to abandon his plans.

"Oh, not much," he said. "I had a few adventures, I guess, but nothing terribly exciting. And I've been here on this island for the past few years. Sounds like you've had more excitement."

Gray pursed his lips, disappointment flickering across his face, but nodded.

Lyon hesitated. He did not want to continue this line of questioning, but he didn't want to close off the conversation entirely either, now that they were finally talking properly. It felt like there was still so much to say, and yet he had no idea what any of it might be or if he actually wanted to say it.

"Does it really hurt?" he blurted out, for lack of anything better to shift the topic to.

Gray gave him a funny look, but diplomatically refrained from pointing out that Lyon had already asked that. Or maybe he realized that this time it was a genuine inquiry, rather than a pointed barb meant to sting.

"Kind of?" he said. "I mean, it's mostly more like…numbness or fading, I guess. It felt weird from the start with how I can't interact with anything physical, and it really makes me feel…lightweight and insubstantial, I guess. The only thing tethering me here is that string around your wrist. Otherwise, I could just float away. That feeling has just been getting worse, like I could slip away if I let my concentration lapse for a second. I can't really sleep like this, but sometimes it's like being tired and fuzzy but knowing you'll disappear if you fall asleep. And sometimes it's kind of tingly or I'll get weird pains. Dunno how that's even possible without a body. I'm not sure if it's something soul-deep or if something is actually happening to my body and these are just aftershocks. There's really no way to tell."

Lyon shifted uncomfortably. Part of that description sounded eerily close to his own experience floating in and out of consciousness, trying to stay awake when it was so much easier to sleep. He found it hard to take pleasure in that discomfort, even if Gray might deserve some of it.

"Oh," he said. "Are you scared?"

"Of dying?" Gray shrugged. "Not exactly. Death always felt close by when I was a kid, and maybe I grew up in its shadow. It was always there, and I always figured it would catch me sooner rather than later. Like, it's not a lot of fun, but I'm honestly more concerned about you resurrecting a demon."

Lyon frowned at him. "Maybe you should worry more about yourself."

"Why? It seems a little too late for that, doesn't it?"

He was probably right, and Lyon was alarmed to find that he suddenly found that just the slightest bit sad.