I was going to post this chapter yesterday as a kind of Christmas gift for you all, but sadly the site was hating on me. Thankfully, the site seems to be fixed, and you can now have your present...though I'm not sure it's very merry...

Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail.

~~~~~COME WAKE ME UP~~~~~

CHAPTER 3

I walked to the door and looked down at my keys. It took me only a moment to find the house key. It was still so familiar to me. Somehow, I hadn't been able to throw it out, as if some part of me had known I would need it again some day. But the question was - would it still work? For some reason, the thought that Lucy may have changed the locks after I left caused a knot in my stomach. If she had, would that signify that she was trying to move on? Would that mean that I had lost my chance?

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my key into the lock and nearly sagged in relief when it turned with no problem. I let myself in, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia as I moved down the hallway. Almost nothing had changed since I'd been gone. It was like I'd just taken a short trip, everything here just waiting for me to return.

It still felt like our place, still felt like the home we had built together. It was almost unbelievable to find it all the same. I'd been gone for 3 months, long enough for Lucy to have decided to give up on me, but she hadn't. Her hope was there in the pictures that still littered the walls, every moment of our time together, every happy memory still displayed throughout the house.

It was like walking the story of our lives together, and suddenly, I felt like such a fool. How could I have thought I could live without this? Without her? I had left it all behind like her one mistake could erase all the happiness she'd given me.

How could I have been so blind? She was everything I'd ever wanted, everything I'd ever dreamed of finding, and the fact that I had left her without a second thought pierced my heart. She'd lost so many people in her life, had spent so much of that time feeling lonely, and I'd promised her she'd never have to worry about that with me. I'd told her I would always be there.

Turns out I'd lied to her, made her believe in me...in us. Then the moment she'd messed up, I'd bailed. I'd left her just as surely as the others in her life had. Though in my case, it was worse because I'd chosen to go. At least she'd known that her parents hadn't wanted to abandon her. Death doesn't leave us any choices, so even though she had felt the pain of that loss, she knew they'd have stayed with her if they could.

God, how would she feel seeing me? After everything that had happened, could I really expect her to welcome me back with open arms? Fear flashed through me at that. When I'd spoken with her earlier on the phone, she'd sounded resigned. What if it really was too late? Could I have waited too long?

I didn't think I could accept it if she decided she was done, didn't think I could walk away a second time. Now that I was back here, there was no way I could let her go again. I was almost sure it would kill me.

Warily, I turned into the kitchen, finding it empty of the woman I was looking for. Still, the room wasn't empty of things to see. A half-empty bottle of amber sat on the counter, a tumbler tipped over just next to it. I stared at the set sadly, knowing this was what Lucy had been doing when she'd called me.

Was she trying to drink her pain away, numbing herself in the only way she could think of? My eyes filled with tears at the thought that my leaving had brought her to this. It wasn't her, and the blame could be laid squarely at my feet.

I needed to see her, had to know she was okay. Turning, I left the evidence of her drinking behind and made my way up the stairs. It was the only place she could be, and as I pushed through the doorway and caught sight of her all huddled up on my side of the bed, I felt my heart clench.

She was clutching at my pillow, her head tucked into it like she used to do on my chest. Only half of her face was visible from my position beside her, but that was all the evidence I needed to know that she'd been crying. My eyes watered at the sight of her puffy eyes, the dried tear tracks across her cheeks.

She looked so vulnerable, so profoundly sad lying there in the t-shirt I hadn't been able to find for months. That she'd kept my favorite shirt gave me hope that she'd find a way to forgive me for leaving. Looking down at her, I knew...she was what made this place home to me. She was my sanctuary, and no matter where I went, I'd never find anyone better than her. She was everything to me, and I would spend the rest of my life making her believe it again.

Reaching out, I brushed my fingers along her brow, and whispered, "I'm sorry Lucy. I never should have let you go."

I stood there, gazing down at the only woman who had ever mattered to me, unshed tears clogging my throat at the thought of never being able to touch her again, never being able to hold her in my arms. I would be lost without her, just like I'd been the last three months. She was my air, and I'd been living like a fish out of water without her. Now, here she was, so close and yet still so far away from me.

She wasn't mine anymore. I had thrown her love away, discarding it like it meant nothing. I didn't deserve to come back this way, just assuming I could have her again. It was wrong of me to presume that everything could go back to the way it was before. I had burned those bridges, destroyed them just as surely as I'd destroyed our lives by walking away from her.

I'd treated her like she didn't matter, like my pride was more important. How could I just come here and expect everything to miraculously be fine after what I'd done?

I sighed, a tear slipping out unbidden. I shouldn't have come here like this, in the dead of the night while she slept. She had the right to tell me no, to slam the door in my face like I'd slammed the door on our relationship. I had no right letting myself into this house - it wasn't my home anymore.

But I couldn't leave. I couldn't make myself walk away again, even for the few hours it would be until she woke up. She was right there, and I had ached for her for so long. I didn't deserve it, but I had to be with her right now. I needed to have her in my arms, at least one more time. If tomorrow she would tell me goodbye, I needed tonight.

It was a blasphemous irony for sure. I had given her no reprieve, no chance to say goodbye, but I was going to give myself one. It was shameful and selfish, but I wasn't strong enough to step away. I had to have this time with her.

I pulled my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor as I slid into the bed beside her. I edged closer, pressing my body against the back of her, and simply breathed her in. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in until there wasn't space between us.

We fit together perfectly, just as we always had, though now that I was touching her, I could feel that she had lost weight. I closed my eyes as bitterness crowded my throat again. It was another reminder of my thoughtless treatment of her, and it cut me to the quick.

I pressed my lips to the back of her head and let the emotions wash over me. I had earned it, this awful weight of guilt. I shouldn't have acted so rashly. I should have listened. I should have forgiven her. But I did none of those things, and now I had to live with whatever she decided to do.

As if she could feel the tension in my body, she shifted, whimpering in her sleep. I stilled, my heart coming to a stop in my chest. Could our confrontation have already arrived? My name slipped from her lips, the sound slight and broken as she spun around.

She clung to my body tightly, nuzzling into my chest, before sighing and settling against me. Looking down at her, I found her eyes still shut, her breathing finally deep and even. I hugged her closer, enjoying the sensation of her breath puffing out across my skin.

I lied there for long minutes, savoring the feel of her in my arms again, the smell of her. It was so perfectly familiar. I had missed it so much, this deep-seated feeling of home, of love. It felt like it had been ages since I felt so relaxed, since I'd gotten any sleep, and as I laid there, I felt myself getting drowsy.

The night pressed in around me, and my eyes drooped, fluttering a few times before slamming shut.

I woke up, feeling wonderfully cool with no idea why. It reminded me so much of Gray, and I sighed wearily. Would I never stop punishing myself with thoughts of him? Briefly, I debated with myself about the wisdom of opening my eyes and facing the day. It was the weekend, so there was nowhere to be, no one to visit. So, what reason was there to hurry from my bed?

I nuzzled into Gray's pillow again, cringing a bit when it didn't give at all. It felt nothing like it usually did. Grumbling to myself, I opened my eyes and promptly gasped.

My eyes filled with tears as I realized I was wrapped tightly around the man I'd been pining for during the last three months, the man I thought I'd never see again. A sob slipped out of my mouth, and I wondered if I had finally lost my mind. He couldn't actually be here, could he?

Shaking my head, I pulled away, dragging myself out of the shelter of his arms. No, he wouldn't have come back. He didn't love me anymore. He'd moved on with someone else.

I sniffed as the pain welled up again, and before I knew it, hot tears were streaming down my face. I should have gotten used to it. It wasn't like it was new, but now, there was an added layer of hopelessness. He had found someone else, someone who hadn't betrayed him like I had, and it hurt. God, it hurt so much.

"Lucy?"

My head whipped up at the groggy voice. He was still there, still there beside me, in my bed, looking and smelling just like the man I loved. My eyes widened in shock. Was he real? Could he really be here? "Gray?" I asked softly, uncertain yet whether I could believe what I was seeing. I'd had an awful lot of liquor the night before. Could that be causing me to see things that weren't there?

He sat up slowly, his expression suddenly wide awake, and then he reached out, bringing his hand up to my face. His touch was hesitant, and I closed my eyes, unconsciously leaning in to his calloused hand. It was just like I remembered it, and that just couldn't be.

Gray had left me, and he wasn't coming back. I knew that. After the conversation last night, I'd finally realized the truth, so why was I tormenting myself like this? Why was my brain teasing me with everything I wanted but couldn't have?

Rubbing my head, I turned and climbed from the bed. "I've got to stop doing this. No more drinking so much," I muttered to myself. Without another look at my bed, I headed into the bathroom. This was by far the worst morning after I'd ever had to deal with, and it was entirely too real for my liking. I wasn't strong enough for something like this.

I finished up in the bathroom and came back into the room, only to find Gray still sitting on the bed, this time with a slightly confused expression on his face. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure I was imagining him. "Gray?"

He stood to his feet and moved toward me, his face full of intent. I stepped back, holding my hand up to stop him. I was struggling, my muddled brain trying to make sense of the situation I'd just found myself in. If this was real and not some horrible, wonderful vision I'd conjured, then why was he here? Why had I just woken up in his arms?

"Lucy..." he began, looking hurt that I'd moved away.

"Gray...you're..." I said, feeling completely overwhelmed. "What are you doing here?"

His face fell at my blunt question. "I just...needed to see you."

I blinked a few times before asking, "Why?" He hadn't spared a word for me in three months, and now he was here. Now, he was standing there, right next to the bed that had been ours. It didn't seem real.

"I miss you," he said simply.

Looking at his eyes, I could see he was serious. But still, why now? Why leave for so long, make me live such a lonely existence, and then decide that he...what? What was he trying to say? Was this just a visit? Was he saying he wanted to come home?

I stared at him from my position beside the bathroom door and couldn't decide what I felt. I should have been happy to see him. It was what I'd wanted so badly, what I'd ached for, but in spite of that, or maybe because of that, I was suspicious of it. So much of my life had been spent learning to be cautious, and these last few months had really hammered that notion home.

Before any of this had happened, I had no doubts about him. I had naïvely believed that nothing could ever take him from me, but I didn't trust so easily anymore. I couldn't just jump and hope that he'd catch me. I was afraid, because deep inside I knew I wouldn't survive another three months like the last.

In that moment, I understood why I was feeling so unnerved at seeing him. He represented all my hopes and dreams for the future, but also everything I'd lost. He was all of it wrapped up in one, and I wasn't sure what to do with him.

I couldn't pretend to be okay, couldn't make believe that the last three months hadn't happened. My heart wasn't whole anymore, and the man before me was everything I wanted and everything I feared believing in again. How could I possibly reconcile that?

Again, my mind circled back to the question at hand...why now? Had he been trying to punish me first? Had he just now started missing me? God, that would hurt so much, especially when I had missed him every single moment he'd been away. I just couldn't comprehend it all. "I don't understand. What's changed?"

His eyes flashed with pain at my reaction, but I couldn't help him. I was quite effectively lost at the moment. I just wanted to know what was going on.

Months...he'd been gone for months, and I'd sat day in and day out despising myself for my mistake, never finding a moment's peace. And then he waltzes in here out of the blue and suddenly, he misses me.

What was I supposed to do with that? Had he expected me to jump for joy, to fall on him with tears of happiness? I couldn't do that, not right now. I had missed him every second until I thought I would lose my mind. How could I hope when I was so afraid he would leave again?

I stood there staring at him, my heart heavy and my throat thick with tears. But I held it all inside. It was mine - my pain, my fear, my loneliness - and I had been carrying it on my own for too long to share it with him. What did that say for our future?

I just didn't know. In some strange way, I felt like I was mourning, like I was preparing myself for goodbye. Had I finally decided to let him go? Had it all just been too much?

Maybe my heart had finally had enough. Maybe it had closed itself off to keep from hurting anymore. I didn't know. I just knew I had to let my head take the lead. No more following my heart blindly. I had to be strong now. I had to protect myself, because there was no one else looking out for me anymore.