When Laxus opened his eyes, the last thing he expected to see was one of the weaklings – er, to see one of the Fairy Tail members who hadn't been on Tenrou island to be staring down at him.

The mage's name was what, Alzack? Or something? He'd never particularly paid attention to them, especially not in recent years, having written them all off as miserable little flies who buzzed around his guild like they owned the place.

(Even though he now knew the opposite was true; Laxus was the fly, and he didn't own the place. It had taken him until the excommunication to realize that fact.)

Alzack stared back, and only when he turned to call for someone did Laxus realize just how much his ears were ringing. He could hardly hear the mage, let alone move to speak, to tell him to shut the hell up because his head was pounding away at his eardrums. Half of his body was covered in dirt, holding his limbs down like a weighted blanket, his head was propped painfully against a rock, and he was still beat up from Grimoire Heart's guildmaster.

And then it occurred to him that they shouldn't even be alive.

… Maybe his aching body wasn't all that bad.

Fighting Master Hades had been tough, but not impossible. Laxus had taken quite a beating in the end, going so far as to give the remainder of his magic power to Natsu to finish off the fight – afterwards, though, had been the hard part.

Acnologia was a monster. Hades was a sick bastard, but the apocalypse dragon had been in a different class entirely. It was unlike anything Laxus had ever sensed before, and even with his enhanced dragon slayer senses, it hadn't even seemed possible that something could be so strong.

That was what Gildarts went head to head with? The man was lucky to even be alive.

Laxus's head soon cleared, and he managed to drag himself up from the dirt into a more respectable standing position. The dust sticking didn't come off easily, but a few rough pats managed to shake most of it loose back where it belonged – on the island.

What exactly had happened?

The last thing he remembered was channeling what was left of his magic through the specter of the guild's founder to activate Fairy Sphere. Since Laxus was still alive, and the dragon was nowhere to be seen, that probably meant it was a success – but that didn't explain why Alzack was here. Everything had been so fast that there wouldn't have been time for the news to get back to the guild.

In fact, his own arrival had only been incredibly fast as a result of using his normal electricity magic to turn into lightning and travel across the continent at very high speeds, and even he had barely made it in time.

Many of the scattered guildmates around him were in similar positions as he – Mira was flicking clumps off of her, Elfman, and Lisanna's clothing (wasn't Lisanna dead?), and Natsu was entirely buried in the ground the point where only that ugly scarf of his was visible.

Several other less familiar Fairy Tail members were trying their best to get the fire dragon slayer up, but he was buried deep. It took three of them to even pull his arm out. If Laxus wasn't so confused, he'd laugh.

"The hell's going on?" The iron one – Laxus couldn't remember his name, only that he'd beaten the guy up at one point – shouted, giving voice to the lightning dragon slayer's own thoughts.

Alzack turned to the Fairy Tail guildmaster, ignoring the iron dragon slayer entirely.

Gramps had never looked so tired before. His face was pale, losing what little tint it had in favor of an unhealthy looking pallor, his eyes slightly sunken. The furrowed brow on his face deepened as his eyes landed on Alzack, clearly going through the same thought process as Laxus had.

Why did Alzack look goddamn so old?

Even some of the guys from – what was that guild of handsome men called? Blue something? – were loitering around Fairy Tail's scared island, looking relieved. A look of relief that shouldn't come after a mere week or two away.

Gajeel had put it perfectly: What the hell had happened?

.

.

.

Tenrou island had disappeared for over seven years.

Alzack and Bisca's explanation echoed in Laxus's head on the return journey, because it just wasn't possible. There was no way that the island had ceased to exist for nearly a decade, leaving those on it untouched by time and those left behind victims to the dragging passage.

His former guildmates chattered awkwardly amongst themselves as they soared over the vast expanse of ocean. Even Fried, Bixlow, and Evergreen appeared to be at a loss. They surrounded him, talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers as Laxus leaned over the ship's railing.

"I wonder if anything's changed," Fried murmured aimlessly. It was a dumb statement, if what they'd heard was to be believed. Seven years was a long time – hell, even the span of a year could take one by surprise if they weren't expecting it to pass quickly.

And this passed in less than the blink of an eye.

Laxus wondered if Mercury was okay. That guy looked fragile, but was surprisingly sturdy, what with that insane regenerative ability of his. He would be fine.

("I've apparently got Chronic Magic Deficiency Syndrome.")

He was fine. He had to be.

When they arrived at the guild, any doubts about whether they'd actually 'traveled through time' were dispelled.

The hall was in rough shape. Paint was peeling from the exterior walls, the roof appeared to be broken in some parts, likely leaking, and the whole thing looked like it had seen better days. It all just seemed so poor, so ghetto. Was this what the guild had been reduced to while they'd been gone? Who the hell had been taking care of it?

At least the flowerbeds out front were still ripe with life. Even if most of said life was just weeds.

Inside was much the same. Worn down walls, the faint smell of dust and mold – even the bar seemed like it had seen better days, and the shelves behind it that normally displayed whatever expensive brand of alcohol Cana had purchased were now nearly empty, save for a few light colored bottles.

Cheers erupted as soon as they entered, though Laxus knew none were for him. He couldn't smell the salty ocean, meaning that Mercury wasn't there.

He tried to ignore the tightening knot in his stomach. Mercury was fine – he just didn't like loud spaces all that much. Sometimes. He liked the chaos of them, reveled in creating it, but not the noise. His ears were too sensitive, or something like that.

Laxus tried to take stock of what exactly had changed within the guild to distract himself from growing discontent. He'd only been gone for a couple of months, but to them, it had been those months plus seven whole years.

Macao was now the guildmaster. It felt weird to see anyone other than Gramps hold the mantle, though the blue-haired man was not the worst they could have picked. He was at least old and mature enough to not completely destroy the guild, a mission that he'd achieved if the guild hall remaining standing was anything to go by.

His mustache was stupid, though.

The other old fart who often accompanied the new guildmaster was much the same. He was just a bit older, lines weaved into his skin a bit more tightly as he took a drawl from his pipe at the sight in front of him. Wakaba didn't join in, but he did watch the reunion intently at Macao's side.

Those weaklings – former guildmates, Laxus corrected himself again with a grimace – who had been the trigger for the Phantom Lord incident swarmed Levy the moment she entered. The lightning dragon slayer hardly recognized them. It was only the earthy scent wafting off of one of them that reminded him that they even existed. Droy, was it? The one who used plant magic, which made the other one Jet. It was almost gross how fat the former had become. Even while he embraced Levy, a thick stick of chicken was clutched over her shoulder.

The man who Laxus saw upon waking, Alzack, was now married to Bisca with a child. He almost couldn't believe it – they'd been gone so long that children had sprung up in their place, and this one appeared to be around five years old. The same age Romeo, that annoying boy, had been when they'd left.

And now Romeo was nearly fourteen, and the look on his face upon seeing his guildmates walk through the door was so ecstatic that it almost carried over to Laxus. Almost.

God, Laxus thought again, seeing just how much seven years could change things. He had no other words to describe what he was feeling.

The guild partied like they were making up for lost time – seven years worth of it. Laxus had seen them rowdy before, but never like this.

Barrels of alcohol were brought from the basement and subsequently emptied. All of their finest spirits, painstakingly collected since the time of Mavis Vermillion (at least, what hadn't been sold to pay for the guild's maintenance), were carefully dragged up to the main floor to the sound of deafening cheers and split between those who could drink. Someone went on a run to get sparkling juice for the kids and came back with more people, more wine, and more craziness – Laxus wasn't even entirely sure that these people were part of the guild, but they'd been accepted by the crowd the moment they revealed even more alcohol carried under their clothes.

It was a long night.

Laxus allowed himself to take the reprieve. It was a little awkward at first. No one approached him, or even really tried to get close until they were sufficiently drunk enough to forget the whole Battle of Fairy Tail fiasco entirely. That was fine. Laxus knew he deserved it.

Fried got exceptionally drunk after just a few offered shots. He was a lightweight, but Laxus and Bixlow weren't, and Evergreen was good at pretending to drink what was offered to her, so it fell on all three of them to make sure the green haired man didn't choke to death on his own vomit.

It was a relief, really, to be able to come back like this.

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Missed the Thunder God Tribe, missed the guild, missed his grandfather.

How much he missed Mercury.

The omnipresent man should have been there, making fun of Fried for being such a pushover when it came to alcohol, for not rejecting anything given to him. He should be harassing Natsu and Gajeel for not becoming S-Class like they had promised.

There were a lot of things he should be doing right now, but the water mage was nowhere to be seen.

It had only been a few months for Laxus, but it had been seven years for Mercury. He had to be alright – Laxus couldn't imagine him dying that easily, and seven years really wasn't anything in Mercury's long lifespan – but that didn't relieve the building pressure in his chest as the man did not show up in the hall.

Mercury would not miss a party. He wouldn't miss the chance to goad drunk people into dropping their wallets on silly bets. There must be some reason for his absence. Sickness, maybe? He'd stayed up too late the night before and was now sleeping it off?

The more Laxus thought about it, the more his stomach twisted into knots. He could not think of anything that seemed reasonable.

It wasn't until the next day that he found the courage to actually seek out an answer.

His head throbbed a little bit, and upon exiting the guild hall, the brightness nearly took him out for a couple of seconds, but he made his way towards Mercury's house despite the hangover. If the water mage wasn't at the guild, he was there. If he wasn't there, he was fucking around in the town. If he wasn't in the town, Laxus had no idea where he'd be.

Fried, Bixlow, and Evergreen were left behind, nursing hangovers of their own and still mostly asleep. He'd come back with Mercury in tow, and then all five of them would celebrate their return once again.

Laxus couldn't wait to see the look on Mercury's face.

(His apprehension much outweighed any excitement at the prospect, but he kept on putting one foot in front of the other, following the path he'd walked so many times before.)

The house was just as he remembered it: shitty. He never understood why the water mage chose to live in a place as worn down as this, the other residents giving Laxus glares as he stalked between the houses as though he was going to do something to them.

Laxus glared right back. He was here for a reason, thank you very much.

He tried the door with an unusually hesitant fist, almost scared to see what was – or wasn't – inside. It was locked.

At least it appeared Mercury had some sense in that empty brain of his.

When Laxus was met with resistance at the door, he looked around the aging building a bit more. Mercury had, at one point, given him a key to use if he ever really needed it – just as Laxus had given one to Mercury in return – but the item itself had been lost during the years after their big fight. In fact, Laxus had likely intentionally destroyed it.

And it was coming back to bite him now.

The uneasy feeling did not abate, not now that Laxus was here, so he decided to do the thing any sane person would do in his place: kick down the door. It wasn't very sturdy. The hinges were rusted from disuse, so they broke apart easily at the first sign of resistance. The door fell inwards with a heavy thud, sending a heavy cloud of dust up into the air in its wake.

Breaking off with a coughing fit, Laxus had to pause, closing his eyes so that the debris wouldn't irritate them anymore than it already had. Even that was a losing battle, the filth already leaking through the open doorway. Laxus forced the grime from his lungs as violently as possible, forced to double over when the coughs briefly overtook his own ability to breathe.

Clearly, no one had lived here for a long time, and that was a bad sign.

When coughing the fit ended, Laxus peered inside the door. It was dark, so he fumbled with the light switch to the left of the entrance, flicking it upwards with thick fingers coated in dust. They flickered on, albeit shakily, revealing the room inside.

Mercury's house had always looked bad. Even Laxus, who didn't really care about cleanliness, had been able to tell that the water mage never really cared about it. It was clean, everything in the right space, but something had always looked distinctly unlived in. He had no furniture save for a mattress and dresser, even in his kitchen-slash-living space, so the building had always been empty. Nothing more than a house, and certainly not a home.

It was the same now, except covered in an extremely thick layer of dust on every surface. Laxus couldn't hazard a guess as to how long it had been like that. Every step sent up more flurries of the filth on the ground, burning away at his eyes.

This house was Mercury's, but it was empty. It didn't even have the scent of the water mage, instead filled with the intense stench of dirt, mold, and stale air, further pointing to the fact that he hadn't been here in quite some time.

Laxus didn't want to think about it any further than that.

Taking a step further inside the house was a disorienting experience. He half expected to see Mercury sitting on the floor, intently tucked away into some book, only to look up and realize that he had visitors. Then, he'd stand up, say something snarky about knocking, or perhaps scold Laxus for breaking down the door, before welcoming him in.

But, as he'd initially seen, the living area was entirely empty. The bathroom, too, was devoid of anything living other than the line of black mold slowly creeping its way down from the half-cracked window. A crusty towel lay on the side of the dry bathtub, long forgotten.

Laxus looked into the bedroom. It was just as he remembered from the few times he'd been here: a mattress on the floor with no bed frame, a bundle of messy blankets, and a wardrobe that was much too elaborate to be the water mage's choice. It was cracked open, allowing Laxus easy access without kicking up more dust, though the contents were mostly the same as he remembered. Several variations of the same outfit, picked out by Evergreen, lay in the drawers, and a single jacket hung on the rack inside.

It was about as many pairs of clothes as he remembered Evergreen forcing them to haul in, meaning it was likely that these were all he had – if Mercury had intentionally left them behind, he would have had to purchase a whole set of new ones.

Turning once more to the messy bed on the floor, Laxus found himself almost kicking over a sword that had been propped against the base of the wardrobe.

He hadn't known that Mercury was trying to use one. It was likely due to the Magic Deficiency that the mage had described on the night of the Fantasia parade, though Laxus couldn't quite imagine the wiry man waving one around as a weapon; he was never one for close combat unless the situation absolutely required it.

The lightning mage bent down, grabbing the sword. The metal felt brittle under his muscular grip, the sheathe tattered and well-used, but it had been taken care of fairly well. He'd hold onto it for the moment.

From the sword in front of him, Laxus's eyes trailed downwards to Mercury's pillow, where a white envelope rested. There was a brief hesitancy in his movements – was it alright for him to just take it? He would have to touch the bed to get to the letter, but it wasn't like Mercury was around to scold him.

The lightning dragon slayer's apprehension disappeared when he saw that it was his name on the envelope.

Rushing forward with delicate but hasty movements so as not to disturb the room more than he already had, Laxus put his knee down on the bed and skirted around the edge until he could grab the envelope. It definitely had his name on it. The straightforward, slightly scratchy script was something that Laxus had seen many times before, and even if it had now faded with time, he recognized it immediately as Mercury's.

The letter was written to him from Mercury. Somehow, that wasn't any more reassuring.

His usually deft hands trembled slightly as he thumbed open the flap, heading back to the entrance of the house with the sword in one hand and letter in the other until there was enough of the shaky light for him to actually see the contents. The writing within was, like the name on the envelope, pale and faded against the white paper it was written on, but he could make out the words just fine.

On the top left of the letter was a date – December twelfth of the year X784 – marking it as having been written before the disastrous S-Class trials had even begun.

The contents were somewhat rambling. Laxus could hardly even believe them; a parallel world? It sounded like fantasy, but he had no reason to think that this was just a creative writing exercise, especially considering that the water mage wasn't creative enough on his own to come up with anything as detailed as what he had laid out. No, this was much too descriptive.

A world where the people are the same as their own, yet different. An Erza who hated Fairy Tail. A Natsu who was a coward.

A Mercury who was likely dead.

Even his daughter had been there, apparently. Laxus could feel the angst coming from the writing on the paper, penmanship sometimes shaky and sometimes stable as though fighting through waves of emotions. He couldn't imagine that it hadn't been a shock to the water mage. After what Laxus had been told about the death of his wife and child, it seemed a miracle that Mercury had even been mentally okay after seeing a parallel version of a child he thought was dead.

There wasn't a lot written about her. About Marissa. But it seemed that Mercury was glad to have gotten to see what she would have looked like while all grown up. At least he'd been able to send her off with a smile.

The letter didn't end there, however, and it was the section that followed that had Laxus truly upset. His brow furrowed deeper as each new sentence registered within his brain – they were words that made sense, but not words that made sense.

A heart that didn't work, that would slowly spread to the rest of his body the more he used his magic until it just stopped working entirely. A body that fought to keep itself alive by substituting biological functions with magic, speeding up the process as it did so. A quietly crippling disease that Mercury had to learn about alone.

It's not imminent, but it is slowly approaching.

Dread immediately filled the pit of his already tense stomach.

There was just no way that he was already dead.

Thoughts swirled in his head, near unstoppable, and he had to force himself to look away from the letter, else he'd probably tear it from the way his hands were shaking. Him, shaking? Preposterous – shaking was what one did when they were scared, and Laxus was not scared.

He knew he wasn't scared. Knew it, somewhere in the back of his head, but his denial of the feeling only got weaker as he thought about it more.

"I figured you would be here," came a soft voice from the door, startling Laxus so much that he nearly dropped the letter entirely. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts that the man's approach hadn't even registered.

Laxus turned to see Fairy Tail's fourth guildmaster standing in front of him, staring at the ruined door frame. He looked pointedly at anywhere but the lightning dragon slayer, which did absolutely nothing to curb the rampant adrenaline that was coursing through his body.

"You could have used a key, you know?" Said Macao finally.

"Don't have one." Laxus could barely stop himself from snarling at the man, irritated immensely by his seemingly nonchalant attitude.

("You always get angry when you don't know what to feel." Mercury's words flashed through his mind, and for once, even the lightning dragon slayer could admit he was right.)

"I do, though," the fourth guildmaster said, then raised his hand to show what it contained – a small, metallic key that was almost identical to the one Laxus used to own. "I was going to give it to you later this afternoon."

Macao offered it to Laxus, who took it hesitantly. The metal was warm in his hands from the way Macao had been tightly grasping it as though it might disappear without warning at any moment.

"Why do you have it?" Laxus fought to keep his tone level.

"Mercury gave it to me a while ago so that I'd stop banging on his door whenever he didn't show up for a couple of days. He moved into a room at the guild eventually, so I've just been hanging onto it."

Thanks, Macao, that explained nothing. Was the man going to make Laxus ask him directly? Ask him if his best friend was actually dead?

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, Laxus attempting to force his tongue to form the words that burned his head, and Macao fighting to break the awkward tension to say what he wanted to say.

"Did you know that he thought he was dying?" Macao finally asked. He didn't miss the way that Laxus's face paled at the statement, then twisted into a look of disgust. Not at himself or at the water mage, of course, but at the situation as a whole.

His friend was dying of Magic Deficiency every minute of every hour of every day. Slowly. Agonizingly.

Laxus gave a quiet nod. An uncharacteristically quiet nod. He knew about the Magic Deficiency, obviously, since the man had told him, but the actual outcome of it, the very possibility that the end result could have been death hadn't ever actually occurred as an option. Even though the contents of the letter had said as much, hearing someone actually say it out loud was like a punch to the gut, sending his mind reeling once more.

"It's not that surprising that he told you," Macao surmised. "Even though it took over a year for him to tell us."

Bitterness spread across Laxus's chest. "Just spit it out already – is he dead?"

The fourth guildmaster said nothing for a moment, internal struggle evident on his face from the way his peaceful expression quickly morphed into a scowl and then back again.

"I'm not sure," Macao said, finally meeting Laxus with calm eyes. "He wasn't dead the last time I – we, that is – saw him, but he up and disappeared four years ago."

"What?"

"Boy, I'm the old one here. I'm sure you don't need me to repeat what I said."

Of course he didn't need Macao to repeat his words, but they were just as confusing as what was written in the damn letter.

"There's no way he left. He couldn't –"

"Leave Magnolia? Yes, we're aware. That's why we initially suspected foul play, but nothing turned up when we tried to investigate. It was as though he vanished into thin air."

'Foul play.'

The words echoed around in Laxus's head for a moment. How could a man who had hardly left the city of Magnolia be a part of 'foul play?' Who would he have even aggrieved enough to target him? Phantom Lord? The lightning mage had heard that Mercury had gone toe-to-toe with their guildmaster at some point, but the guild had effectively been stamped out, and its master was being watched intently by the Magic Council. Nothing came to mind from Mercury's time in the Thunder God Tribe, either. He hadn't even used his real name back then, and it had been over a decade now since they'd worked together.

Without realizing it, Laxus's hands had started to tingle with sparks – he was getting too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice the smell of paper beginning to burn or ozone from himself, only noticing when a small tinge of smoke curled upwards.

Hurriedly, he wrestled himself under control. It had been so long since he had unconsciously started using his magic; the sensation almost made him feel like he was a child, throwing him back to the days where he was still trying to get the magic that roared in his blood under control.

He never trusted it back then. Laxus had wanted to be strong, but all he'd done is hurt people with it – it was only Mercury that had guided him, allowing them to spar even though there was such a large chance of getting hurt because of the lightning mage's ineptitude.

"It was the first time in a long time that someone told me they wanted me to live. That you told me you wanted me to live."

Why were those words coming to him now?

Because Laxus desperately wanted Mercury to be alive, probably. Four years was an incredibly long time for a man to be missing, especially one who claimed to be terminal – but even the gods would be damned if they thought that was enough to stop Laxus from finding him.

"There was another guild we had an issue with, so Wakaba was convinced it was them, but I'm not so sure; Merc took 'em all down, you see, so I doubt he'd get one pulled over by them."

The fuck?

"Merc… took them down?"

"Yes. With that sword you've got in your hand, actually. Challenged 'em all at once," Macao explained. "I don't even think he broke a sweat."

"That's impossible. He's awful at using weapons. He's more likely to impale himself than to do any damage."

He'd done exactly that before, Laxus remembered.

"He worked hard, you know? Kept saying he wanted to be of some use even if he couldn't use magic, even though we told him he was doing enough."

The way that Macao was speaking as though Mercury was dead was putting a bad taste in Laxus's mouth.

It hadn't occurred to him that Mercury could change. No matter what happened, he had remained the same. His body never changed, and neither did his actions. For as long as Laxus had known the man, he'd been stagnant, remaining "himself" no matter what happened – not even in the face of danger or after their fight.

Laxus couldn't really comprehend that that man could change… but he wanted to see it.

"Tell me everything," the dragon slayer said, arms crossed. The trail on their fellow guild member had likely already gone cold, four years having passed in the blink of an eye, but if anyone was going to have a lead, it would have been Macao. It sounded like the two had been quite close.

No matter what happened, Laxus was going to figure out where his friend went. He wasn't going to let their last conversation to have been during Fantasia. He wasn't going to let that man simply leave.

Laxus wasn't going to let Mercury go that easily.

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