DISCLAIMER: I don't own D. Gray-man. Woe.
A/N: Well, here goes my first D. Gray-man fic. It's based in London, where I've never been, so if Wikipedia lies to me and I say something about the city that's completely wrong tell me and I'll fix it up. I debated making this Yullen but I don't know how I'd incorporate that… so there'll be no romance. Please review, and try give me some constructive criticism too because I feel that I could write much better : ]
The building creaked strangely, tiny showers of white plaster raining down on him from the ceiling as the near-destroyed place strained under their feet. The wooden walls of the hallway they were slinking through were water-stained and smelled of damp and mould, the greyish-white ceiling split by spidery fault lines. Scanning the wooden floor in front of him for any holes, he followed the golden golem that was scouting the way, leading them through the building using the safest route possible.
His stomach rumbled again, and he grimaced as the sensation actually caused him physical pain. He couldn't remember the last time he ate – more than a week ago, definitely. He knew he could go for longer but his arm was throbbing with every beat of his heart, the innocence demanding the food that would fuel it. If any akuma attacked him right now, he would most probably die. Every akuma was flying solo now – it was hard to get orders from a dead master, and as such they were even more dangerous than before purely due to the fact that it was hard to know what they were thinking.
This lack of leadership meant something different to each individual akuma – some were deciding that they rather enjoyed not killing people, and others had become even more violent than before. Then there were the weaker ones, the level ones, all of which were completely lost without orders, unsure who they should attack or if they should even do any attacking at all.
"Allen, are you alright?" He looked to his left and managed to produce a smile for the young girl walking beside him. She was wearing the simple blue dress of a peasant, the fabric ripped and burnt, the whole skirt of it stained dark with blood. Hopefully there would be some clothes along with the food that Timcanpy said was in the once beautiful mansion-like house they were walking through. Even if she wasn't really a person, Allen felt as though he was letting her down somehow by allowing her to dress in such a garment.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a little hungry." She rolled her eyes at his answer, giving him a light slap on the arm as half-hearted punishment for his obvious lie. "Okay, maybe more than a little."
"I know that. Everyone in a five kilometre radius with ears knows it." His stomach was poked lightly, and the girl smiled cheekily, wide hazel eyes shining. Ever since Allen had found her and named her, she'd been ecstatic, saying that she was so happy because she had been given a purpose again, a new master and friend. She was a level two akuma who had spent the last five months wandering around the ruins of London, unsure what to do (much like Allen himself, who'd been trapped in the place for nearly a year.) Allen had found her sitting on the sidewalk, staring across the deeply potholed road with unfocused eyes. The soul attached to her hadn't actually looked as tortured as he'd expected, seeming almost relaxed as it sat in much the same position as the akuma it was trapped in. It was the case of many of the souls he saw nowadays, now that the Earl's influence was gone. Taking pity on her (and also feeling rather lonely after spending almost a year with only a golem for company), he had approached her and asked if she'd like to accompany him on a trip to a nearby hospital to get some first aid supplies. She had said yes and hadn't left his side since.
There was a tug on his sleeve and Allen looked down at Rebecca, who was pointing to the left, where Timcanpy hovered in front of a partially open door. "There's food in there?" In answer Tim flew inside, Allen and Rebecca trailing along after the golem and emerging into a large kitchen. Allen wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell of expired food, which didn't have one place of origin but seemed to seep from the very walls. There was a large fruit bowl on a nearby counter, and Allen watched in mortified fascination as Rebecca stroked the thick furry mound of mould that had made the place home, the akuma unaffected by the stench in the room. There were pots and pans on the stove, filled with unidentifiable mush that Allen supposed had once been food but was now a bacteria farm, and the glass door of the oven had been made completely opaque by the white algae-like mould growing inside the contraption. He definitely didn't want to open that door.
"Um, when I said food I meant edible food, Tim." In response the golem bit his right arm before flying over to one of the many cupboards, this one open a crack. Cautiously Allen reached over and slowly opened it fully, eyes lighting up when a wealth of large jars full of preserved fruit seemingly materialized from the darkness of the back of the cupboard. Stomach letting off its loudest rumble yet, his arm was near twitching with impatience as he took a few seconds to simply marvel at what he'd found. "Tim… I love you…" this was said distractedly as Allen reached into the cupboard and removed a jar of peach slices with something close to reverence, tears of joy sparkling in the corners of his eyes as he just stared in wonder at the sweet, fleshy, orange slices, his mouth watering in anticipation.
"Oh good, you found some food." Allen nodded as he held the jar in a tight hug, sighing in pleasure as he looked at the array of jars before him. There had to be around twenty of them. The cook in house must have been an absolute genius. If only Jerry was here… "Well are you just gonna stare at it all day or eat it?"
"I'll eat it!" Allen said quickly, sweeping three jars into his arms. "I'll eat it ALL!" Blinking at the manic look in her friends' eye, Rebecca took a slow step back, sensing danger if she went any closer to the cupboard full of jars.
"Er, okay, you do that then. It's not like I need to eat anyway."
"And I have never been more thankful for that fact…" After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Allen blushed, seeming to come to his senses, and smiled sheepishly at the akuma. "Um, right. Timcanpy, are there any clothes we can change into around here?" In response the golem bobbed up and down, its version of a nod. "Great, then lead the way please."
Two minutes later Allen sat cross-legged on a king sized bed, pouring the whole jar of peaches straight into his mouth all at once as Rebecca rummaged through the walk-in wardrobe. The room was large and airy, decorated in deep purples and soft pinks, clearly the room of a young girl. The fine clothing in wardrobe was a giveaway to how well off the former owner of the room had been. Allen wasn't really paying attention though, pouring a jar of pear halves into his mouth before he slowed down and ate a jar of plums at a near-normal pace, eating slow enough to actually taste the flavour of the food. By the time he was finished he didn't feel near full, but he was used to that now. Food had become a luxury, and it took a lot of self-control but Allen managed to survive and still have fuel for his innocence even though he only ate about a tenth of what he used to each day (that is, if he actually had any food each day.)
"Okay, I'm done!" Allen turned with a proper smile on his face, able to think clearly with some food in his stomach, but the smile shook as he tried not to laugh. Rebecca was wearing a high necked and long sleeved green dress liberally embroidered with blue flowers, along with a pair of delicate black leather boots. She had also found a fur ruff in the wardrobe and obviously decided that it would work well if worn as a hat, but it failed to stay vertical and ended up flopping to the side, making her look, well, stupid. Far be it from Allen to laugh at a young girl though, so he just nodded and turned to Tim, who seemed to understand why his master couldn't speak and floated out the door to lead them to their next destination.
In the room three doors down the hall was a cupboard full of men's clothes, and as such most of it was too big for Allen. In the end he had to settle for making some haphazard alterations, ending up with a pair of tightly belted black pants, the shorn hems reaching down to cover his worn boots and hover barely an inch from the ground, and a baggy white button up shirt that completely covered both of his hands. The ensemble was completed by the ever-present red bow (which was somehow still pristine) and covered up by a black hooded trench coat which ended at the same point the trouser hems did. It reminded him of the old style exorcist coats, and he smiled with a hint of nostalgia. If only the other exorcists were here to share the memories with…
"Ooh, Allen, look at this!" A manically grinning Rebecca struck a pose with the black top hat that she had obviously found in the wardrobe Allen was looking through. The ruff lay abandoned on the bed, and Allen spared a moment of sympathy for the thing before smiling at Rebecca's happiness, trying not to be reminded of the Earl and the top hat that he (once) wore.
"You look, um, pretty?"
A laugh. "Of course I don't, I'm an akuma. Don't feel the need to compliment me."
"Um… it's hideous?" For that he got a smack in the back of the head and a roll of the eyes. Bewildered, Allen decided it was time to change the subject. "Er, anyway, I was thinking that we should make this our, base of operations you could say. Until the food runs out."
"It won't be for very long then," Rebecca joked, surveying herself in the mirror, having apparently completely forgotten that she was annoyed with Allen. "Will we start hunting again now that you have a food supply?"
"Yes, I was thinking that we should go the Thames again, there always seems to be hoards of level ones hanging around the banks."
"Eh? Aren't we going to attack some higher levels? The Ones are so boring, I just have to stand there and watch while you do all the attacking." Even though Rebecca would willingly kill akuma alongside Allen he wouldn't let her, as only a weapon made of innocence could free the souls trapped in the akuma. As a result she only saw action when they tackled level twos or above (though thankfully, they had never run into any level fours); helping Allen weaken the akuma and then letting the exorcist have the final blow.
"Well, just think of it as a warm up. I haven't used my innocence for a while, and when that happens it may get a little… jittery, you could say. I don't want to be fighting to control my innocence whilst trying to attack a high level akuma."
"Oh, all right. Well hurry up then, I wanna see you in action!"
"Bloody hell, Allen. Sure you don't need any help?"
The exorcist in question chuckled nervously as he stared down at the River Thames from the factory he and Rebecca were standing on top of. You could hardly see the water for the akuma, and he took a second to gulp down the bile that rose in his throat at the sight of so many suffering souls. And they were suffering; this large group of level ones appeared to have dealt with the sudden upheaval of having only their own orders to follow by going insane. As Allen watched with disgust and Rebecca with fascination a large group suddenly started attacking each other, the souls attached to them curled in the foetal position, hands grasping, futile, at their empty skulls.
"Innocence, invocate!" For a few seconds Allen allowed himself to smile as the comforting mantle of Clown Crown surrounded him, flexing his claw-like hand before turning it into his oversized broadsword with a quiet command. Usually he wouldn't use his sword for mere level ones, but it was useful to have a weapon with a long reach when destroying such a large number at one time. Removing Timcanpy from its perch on his head, he placed the golem on top of Rebecca's hat before smiling at the akuma and jumping off the building, right into the middle of the fighting level ones.
Not giving himself any time to be overwhelmed by the feeling of being surrounded by so many suffering souls (as though he was trapped in hell), he did a swift three hundred and sixty degree pirouette, his sword slicing through what must have been twenty akuma at once, clearing all the ground around him in a two metre radius before he took another jump into the air, repeating the process again and again. After ten of these manoeuvres he paused on top of a nearby house for a few seconds rest, slightly out of breath, and surveyed his progress. The phalanx of akuma had been thinned considerably, and most of the ones left were still too confused by the sudden and unexpected deaths of their fellows to pose much danger to him when he went back among them. There appeared to be around fifty left, half of what there had been before. Nodding to himself, he readied for another jump onto the battlegrounds, innocence pulsing merrily through his blood.
He lost himself in the battle, moving instinctually and just enjoying the familiar dance that was combat, smiling at the freed souls that smiled or bowed their thanks to him, waving at one beaming young boy whilst in the middle of a somersault. It was so nice to have easy opponents when rusty; tomorrow he and Rebecca would tackle the more powerful akuma lurking in the city. Reminded of his charge, he took a quick glance in her direction after disposing of another akuma with a quick stab, seeing her watching in fascination as Tim hovered near the edge of the roof, obviously recording Allen's antics. Rebecca was quite enamoured with Allen's fighting style, the quick dodges and complicated acrobatics a new thing to a heavy-handed akuma that relied on brute strength instead of dexterity.
Ten minutes later, Allen wiped his forehead with the back of hand as he disposed of the last akuma with a quick horizontal slash, nodding at the stern-looking man that bowed stiffly to him in thanks. Letting out a long breath, he activated his cursed eye, whose radius covered most of the central city with ease. It had developed quickly in the last year as he came to rely on it more, his survival instinct pushing both his innocence and the curse further than he had before. As a result the curse had a bigger radius and gave him completely accurate readings of the level and number of the akuma in the area, and his innocence managed to be just as powerful as before without needing near as much fuel. There were more level ones scattered around the banks further up the river, either stationary or moving slowly. To the north east there was quite a large concentration of level twos, around fifty, and there were five level threes among their number also. Luckily that seemed to be the biggest threat, the rest of the akuma in his radius rouges ranging from levels one to two and a couple of threes.
Closing his eyes, he rid himself of the monocle-like contraption that was the more developed stage of his curse before spinning around, sword poised against the akuma behind him. "Oh, Rebecca, sorry." He took a second to study the soul attached to the akuma. It looked just as relaxed as usual, and with a silent sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to kill his only friend that could talk, he deactivated his innocence and patted Timcanpy, who had once again settled itself on Allen's head.
"Jitters all worked out?" Rebecca asked with a grin, tucking in the escaped red ribbon hanging outside of his trench coat and patting his chest in a disconcertingly maternal fashion.
"It all went surprisingly smooth, actually. Crown Clown must be getting used to being in stasis so often."
"Mm, yeah, I'll just pretend I know what you're talking about." A pause, and then a sickly-sweet grin. "Soo, when will I get to work out my jitters? It's been too long, really."
"There's a large group of Twos and Threes not too far off, we can tackle those tomorrow." They started strolling slowly through the streets, heading back to the mansion. Allen grinned to himself when he thought of the wealth of food awaiting him there. He would indulge today for old time's sake, and allow himself to have another jar of fruit. He had seen a delicious looking jar of apricot halves…
"Yay! I can't wait!" Rebecca laughed merrily, twirling the top hat whilst it was balanced on one finger as she skipped along beside him, her matted mass of dark brown hair bouncing. Frowning, Allen fingered his own hair, which was more grey than white, and resolved to find out if the mansion had running water. He smelt worse than Lavi did after a Saturday night spent in the dusty back rooms of the Order library, bent over musty old books with his nose near touching the pages.
The sound of splashing water and small chuckles reached Allen's ears as he sat outside the bathroom door, waiting his turn as he leant back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest and Timcanpy coiled up on top of them. As he stared unseeingly at the other wall of the corridor, thinking of nothing, he reached into the jar beside him and drew out another apricot half, slowly eating the fruit before blinking out of his reverie and sighing tiredly.
Outside the window the sun was setting, the sky painted in splashes of blood red and deep purple. Looking down at Tim, he tapped the golem lightly on the head, and it looked expectantly up at him. "Check to see if the golems are back online please Tim." After the final battle, Allen had gotten quite a shock when Tim had fallen silent in the middle of a call to Komui. Ever since then Allen had asked Tim every night to try and connect with another golem, any of them, and every night the little golden golem had been unsuccessful. Not for the first time he silently thanked Cross for modifying Tim, making him separate from the main golem network and able to work completely on his own.
Nodding, Tim pushed himself more upright, tail straight up in the air like an antenna, wings spread.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Watching Tim with half-lidded eyes, Allen dipped his hand into the jar and very slowly ate another apricot.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The sunset had changed, the purple fading to navy and the red now more maroon.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The jar was empty now, his hand meeting cold glass when he reached down into it again. Tim fell silent, wings and tail drooping as he kept staring up at Allen, familiar with this nightly ritual by now.
"Tim, show me a video please."
Tim opened his mouth and the hologram appeared, the screen showing him the time that he first went to the Dark Order. Allen wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head in them, hair hanging in front his face like a shield as he listened to Kanda's yells and Linalee's scolding, smiling faintly at the stuttering voice of the frightened Gatekeeper, slowly falling into a doze as he listened to the cadence of the familiar voices.
If only he knew where they were.
