Title: Broken Remains
Summary: Allen's alone. And he's finally cracked.
Pairings: Implied AxL
Disclaimer: Oh. If D. Gray-man was mine, you would never have even heard about it. And Lavi/Tyki would be mine. XD
A/N: Well, I wrote this for a Christmas contest. It didn't end up very Christmas-y. XD It's angsty, very, very angsty. So...enjoy!
No one else, it seemed, would understand. Because there would never be anyone else. No one would bother to help the young boy, standing alone in the freezing cold as the snow began to fall. No one would bother to ask why he was shaking, or why he was grinning like a madman. No. They'd all just walk on by.
"It's done...I'm free!" he kept repeating. Everyone would look at him like he was crazy, like there was something wrong with him. Well, there already was.
The boy, probably not even older than sixteen, would dance around in the streets, too elated to notice the weird stares he received, or even the carriages threatening to flatten him.
"You see?! You see that?!" he would scream to the skies, as if expecting them to answer. "You thought you would win?! You did, didn't you! But now, I'm the winner! I won the war!" Everyone would stare at the boy who was making a spectacle of himself.
They all watched him, his starch, white hair, almost blending in with the snow that was falling, and his bright blue eyes, staring at people that weren't there. They'd see the red star above his left eye, and then follow the line down to his left hand, the black, twisted left hand. That's when everyone would leave, leave the strange boy alone. They would leave him with his memories and a hollow victory.
"Lenalee! D-did you see?" he'd say. Everyone would look at him, and then around. There was no one named Lenalee that they knew. And then his face would fall.
"B-but, you saw, didn't you, Lavi?" he'd say, trying to keep his grin. There would be no answer. There was never going to be an answer to that name ever again. Nor to the first one, or any of the other names he began to call out.
"Kanda! Krory! Miranda!" he'd shout, looking around. "Reever! Komui!" In his desperation, he wouldn't see the police rushing in to grab him, wouldn't see the one man he despised with all his heart, floating right above the city with his sick, pink umbrella, and a young girl, with ash gray skin and blue, spiky hair.
"Looks like it wasn't worth it," the girl would say, but the boy on the ground wouldn't hear her. No one would hear her except for the fat man and his umbrella.
"No! No!" She'd hear the boy, though, and his screams, trying to pull away from the policemen that were trying to grab him. He turn around and pull out his arm, and everyone would be amazed, or frightened, as it turned into a sword.
"No, Road. It wasn't worth it," the fat man would say, laughing his sick, little giggle. And then the boy would look up, see the fat man, the girl, and the umbrella.
"I killed you!" he'd scream up at them. "I know I did! I watched you die!" He'd start slashing at everyone, watching them all collapse onto the ground as he'd try to reach the trio who were already floating away. As he jumped onto the buildings, hopping from one roof to the other, he'd practically demolish them. The decorations that were strewn across them would fall to the ground, the pretty, little tinsel and wreaths would fall to the ground.
"Did you, dear boy? Did you?" the fat man would say, his voice already fading. "I'll see you soon, Allen! And I hope we'll play again soon!" The boy screamed, throwing himself at the man, and he'd just miss, landing on a roof top. He'd dig the sword into the roof, slashing blindly at the air.
And then it'd come.
The boy would be too distracted by yelling at the man with the umbrella, and wouldn't see it. Instead, he'd just fall to his knees, his voice escaping him as he arched his back, collapsing in the gathering snow on the rooftop. His sword would disappear, and his arm would return, and no one would hear him grieve as red snow finally made its dreaded appearance.
He'd watch a blue-haired swordsman dance in front of him, watch the machines close in around him. The swordsman wouldn't scream, he wouldn't shout for help. No. He was too proud for that. He would never accept any help, especially from the boy watching his plight. No matter. He'd try to rescue the swordsman anyway, even after all the times he'd done the boy wrong, hoping with some insane, impossible hope that the swordsman would live. And when he'd reach the swordsman, after destroying all the machines around him, he'd be gone. The swordsman would be reduced to ashes.
He'd see a fiery, young red-head grab his hammer in rage and attempt to attack the fat man with the umbrella. The fat man would chuckle, giggle that sick laugh of his as he shoved the red-head to the side. The boy's mouth would open in a silent scream as... it was too horrible to remember. Silent sobs would wrack the small, white-haired boy's face as his face would contort into a look of pain, irreplaceble loss.
And the last thing he'd see was a teal-haired girl wrap a hand around his cheek, smiling sadly, before the spiky, blue-haired girl grabbed the umbrella and... and... the boy shuddered, his dull, blue eyes finally shutting just as the teal-haired girl withdrew her hand and was stabbed straight through the heart by the umbrella.
The young, sixteen-year old boy wouldn't be accounted for until the next day. He would be covered in a fine layer of snow by the time anyone even found him, and a layer of red snow beneath him. They wouldn't know his name until the day after he collapsed on the roof.
After all, no one wanted to work on Christmas Eve.
XowariX
