His room was dim. The light of a glowing lacrima nightlight cast little yellow shadows on his walls. He remembered… vaguely… through his fogginess… His grandfather tucking him in underneath the thick quilt his grandmother had made. "Goodnight, Gramps," he had giggled, still wide awake. Now, hours later, something had woken him. Just barely. He couldn't shake away that last bit of sleepiness. It felt almost like he was dreaming.

"Laxus…" The voice sounded so familiar, as if he had heard it in his dreams before. He was too far into sleep to respond. Someone sat on the edge of his bed, and a gentle, warm hand reached up and brush the hair away from his eyes, resting on his forehead for just a moment. So familiar… Then she began to sing as he drifted in and out of sleep. He knew the melody, as if it had always been a part of him.

"Sleep, my darling, sleep

Naught will ever harm you.

Mama's here to hold you.

Mama's heart is always true."

He felt her lift him gently into her arms, cradling him close. Yes, he'd had this dream before. He was sure of it now. But this time it was clearer than before… he knew he would remember…

"Sleep, my darling, close your eyes,

Let me hold you close.

Set aside your troubles

'till tomorrow's sun has rose."

He could see her, barely through his eyelashes. Tears hanging from her chin, glistening in the light of the lacrima nightlight, blonde hair in a long braid hanging over her shoulder… but he couldn't see her eyes…

"Sleep, my darling, sleep

Naught will ever harm you.

Mama's here to hold you.

Mama will protect you…"

She trailed off, choking on a sob. He knew she was trying not to wake him. Her shoulders were shaking. "Always… always…" she whispered. She was laying him back down in bed, tucking the thick quilt around him, pulling it up to his chin. Wake up! He begged himself to shake away the sleep that was preventing him from holding her. Don't let her go! Tell her… you need her! Wake… up!

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, voice shaky, "I love you. I love you more than anything…"

Wake up, Laxus! She was leaving! She was—Wake up!

⁂

He woke up shaking, trying to catch his breath. What the hell was that?! He remembered the details vividly. The lullaby, the sound of her voice, the light on his bedroom walls. Where am I?! He sat up, struggling to clear away the dreariness of sleep. White walls, an old cigar box on his dresser, his window, facing the back alley of a restaurant. Safe. It was his apartment. For a moment, he wondered if he was back home… No, this is home. He traced his hands over the sheets, missing the feel of his grandmother's quilt.

"What the hell was that?" He grumbled, pulling himself out of bed, stretching with a groan, and grabbing a t-shirt to pull on over his broad shoulders before exiting his bedroom. Coffee, and then maybe I'll feel better. He ran his fingers through his staticky hair, taking in a deep breath of cold air. The heat was clearly broken again. Laxus rolled his eyes, pulled on his coat, and shoes, downed his coffee and slipped out of his crappy apartment.

He wasn't sure where he was going until he found himself on the path back to his grandfather's little house. Gramps won't be home. The old man probably even slept at the guild now. The guild, for so long, was everything Makarov had, after he lost Ivan, and then his wife, and then… even Laxus for a little while.

Guilt bit deep in Laxus's heart, like thorns twisted around his ribs and reaching for his heart. He had promised himself, long ago, that he would make it up to his grandfather. For all the shit I've done… to you… to our family… and you only ever loved me. He knew he would be repaying that debt for the rest of his life. He gritted his teeth. "Always thinking about sad things, huh?" He huffed. His dream resurfaced in his mind. "I love you… I love you more than anything."

My mother. It had to be, right? It seemed less and less like a dream, and more and more like a memory. His mother. Would she love me ever now? After everything I've done? He gritted his teeth. Dammit! She had abandoned him! Hadn't she?! In truth, he had never asked his grandfather or his father about his mother.

But this morning, that was a tiny desire in his heart—something urging him on… a tiny, tiny whisper. I want… to find her. He had never thought something like that before. And it filled him with anxiety. He could easily find her! He was a mage from Fairy Tail, after all! But… what happened if he did? He hesitated, standing outside his grandfather's little home on the edge of Magnolia—the place he grew up. Would she hate me? Despise me? He balled his hands into fists. Or… the melody of that lullaby…

The door to his childhood home suddenly swung open, and Laxus took a step back, blinking down at his grandfather.

"Laxus?!" Makarov said, eyes wide. "What are you doing here?" Had it really been that long since he'd visited his childhood home?

"I…" Laxus let out a deep sigh, "I need to talk to you about something."

⁂

"Well, this is a surprise," Makarov said, setting the tea pot aside. And letting out a deep sigh. "You haven't come to visit me like this in sometime."

"I see you every day at the guild," Laxus said.

"Still," Makarov said, offering his grandson a smile, "This is where you grew up, Laxus! Don't you miss it at all?"

Laxus remembered his lacrima nightlight, the warm quilt is grandmother made, the smell of hot chocolate… his grandfather's laugh…

"I came here for a reason," he said, avoiding the question. Makarov frowned, his expression steady, serious.

"What's wrong?"

"I…" he hesitated again, gripping his knee with one hand so tight his knuckles turned white. "I want to know… about my mother."

Makarov's eyes widened, but then he nodded as if he had been completely expecting the question. "Your mother…"

"Yes."

"Well, to be honest, Laxus, there's not much I know." Makarov murmured.

"Tell me what you do," Laxus said, orange eyes wide, "Please."

"Alright, well… it was a long time ago." Makarov said, scratching his chin. "But I remember a young woman came to this house, your mother… She had you, you were only a few days old." He smiled a little, "I remember… how small you were."

"Gramps," Laxus groaned.

"Your mother seemed troubled…"

"What did she look like?" Laxus asked, "Did she say her name?"

"No, she didn't give us her name," Makarov said. "I remember, she had blonde hair, like you… I'm sorry, Laxus, you know I'm not good at remembering things like this."

"What did she say?" Laxus asked.

"She told us… that she was with Ivan, and that you were his son—her son. Laxus. She named you." He smiled a little. "She told us, she trusted us, she knew that I was leader of the guild Fairy Tail, and that as long as you were a part of that guild you would be protected. She brought you to us, to keep you as far away from Ivan as she could…" Makarov sighed. "At that time, you know, your father was a wanderer. So your grandmother and I pledged to raise you with Fairy Tail as your family." He sighed, "I didn't want to believe what your mother said, about Ivan… I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt… but… because I did so many people got hurt. You got hurt—"

"Gramps…" Laxus sighed, "You believed in family. What Ivan did—it isn't your fault." So, his mother had wanted to protect him from his father. But if that were the case, why didn't she return for him? Didn't she hear Ivan was coming back to Fairy Tail? Maybe she had had too much trust in the wizards of the guild. There were still too many questions. Who are you? Where are you? "I want to find her," he said.

"I'm sorry, for your sake, that I never got her name," Makarov said. "Your father would know, of course…"

"Even if that old man was alive I wouldn't go to him," Laxus growled, hands balling into fists. "But there must be another way."

Makarov's eyes suddenly lit up. "She did mention where she had come from!"

"…Like where she lived?" Laxus asked.

"I don't think so, but it must have been the town you were born in. You were only a few days old when she came to us… I would check with the hospital there."

"What did she say exactly?" Laxus frowned.

"She said she had what felt like a long journey, all the way from Oshibana Town."

"Oshibana." Laxus mused. "Then I'll go there."

"There's a fairly large hospital in that town. I'm sure they'll have records dating years and years ago. They'll have something from that day," Makarov nodded.

"Thanks, Gramps." Laxus stood to go, but Makarov called out after him.

"Laxus!"

The lightning dragon slayer turned to face his grandfather. "Yeah?"

"Good luck."