...And I Went Into A Dream
Disclaimer: I don't own D. Gray-Man. I just like to play around in its world and toy with the characters
Warning: regurgiation, sex and just plain weirdness. Those under 21 should avert their eyes from the sex scene. You have been warned.
After just thirty-seven months as an exorcist, Allen Walker's appetite for gastronomic excess was now legendary. Jerry,the head chef had ceased long ago to even raise a well-groomed eyebrow at the amount of food the boy ordered - or how fast he could stuff it down. The other exorcists, the finders and the eggheads in the science department took the "Great Wall of Walker", as the enormous pile of emptied bowls and plates was dubbed, in stride now.
Except for this day, forever after known as "The Morning Allen Didn't Finish His Breakfast."
Along with fellow exorcists Yu Kanda and Lavi, Allen had returned from a long and difficult mission late last night, after the kitchen was closed. All three slept later than usual, but made it to the dining hall in time for Kanda enjoyed his customary hot soba noodles and tea, while Lavi ate pancakes, bacon and several slices of wheat toast spread with grape jam. Allen was ripping along in his usual manner, haphazardly piling the dishes as he went, the faithful golem, Timcanpy nestled in his gray hair, when he just suddenly - stopped eating.
All conversation in the dining hall ceased and several dozen pairs of eyes turned to the suddenly quiet boy excorcist. He sat there with wide eyes, his chopsticks loaded with noodles halfway to his mouth. He chewed the mouthful he already had with evident difficulty, and then swallowed. Allen opened his mouth to eat the next serving, but no sooner had the chopsticks resumed their upward motion when they halted again. Allen closed his mouth and swallowed hard before he suddenly dropped the noodles and chopsticks back into the bowl. He shot up from his seat and stood like a statue, breathing hard and sweating profously.
A greenish tinge began to blossom on his pale cheeks and Allen's eyes widened even more before he clapped both hands over his mouth and bolted from the dining hall. Shaken loose from his perch, Timcanpy fluttered spastically in mid-air before he oriented himself and sped off after his young master. Johnny Gill heard the sounds of distress Allen was making and he instinctively leaned away in case Allen were to toss his cookies right then and there.
Allen disappeared underneath the arch, his receding footsteps echoed in the hall before he made an abrupt left turn and opened the great wooden door leading to the men's washroom. Those walking past in the hallway paused briefly at the loud retching noises, while they silently pitied whoever it was. The late comers who entered the dining hall were shocked to discover the sufferer was Allen Walker of the previously iron stomach.
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"ungh..." Allen pulled the toilet chain and watched the water suck his regurgitated breakfast down into the cathedral's sewage system. He hawked and spat a few times into the receding water in an attempt to get the foul taste out of his mouth. His over exerted stomach muscles throbbed with pain and his throat felt raw and scratchy from stress of vomiting. From behind, he heard a frantic knocking on the door muffled by the thick wood. Timcanpy wanted in and the golem was beating hard with his chubby fists, but Allen didn't feel up to standing just yet.
His head was whirling and the boy laid his heated cheek on the cool, flat rim of the porcelain altar, closed his eyes and breathed cautously through his mouth. His guts had hurt on and off for almost a week now, although this was the first time he'd actually thrown up. He was glad he'd done it at the place he considered "home", rather than an inn in the hinterlands of France. He gritted his teeth and groaned when the pain spiked hard enough to steal his breath. These surges of pain had come more and more frequently in the last three days. He'd hardly gotten any sleep the last two nights, he mostly tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. The finder assigned to their group repeatedly urged him to seek medical attention the minute they returned to headquarters, but Allen just assured the man "it's only a little stomach bug, I'll get over it."
The pain receded again and Allen gratefully drew several quicks breaths in harsh gasps. The finder was right, as soon as he could stand up, he would go see the Black Order medical staff. I can't take much more of this pain. He put his hands, palms down on the toilet rim and tried to push himself up, his legs obeyed although they trembled like trees shaking in a high wind. Allen was almost standing straight when gorge raced up this throat at high speed and he fell to his knees on the marble floor. Allen stuck his face into the toilet bowl just in time as his stomach gave its all, his hands trembling on the rim. It had to be empty by now. Something landed with a loud thud on the cover of the toilet tank, and once the spasm ended. Allen flicked his gaze upward to see Timcanpy, his wings fluttering in agitation. Even without a face, the golem managed to look concerned.
"Timcanpy, how did y - ungh!" Allen's abdominal muscles contracted so hard, a harsh cry of pain was wrenched from his throat. His mouth opened wide, but only a little trickle of darkish liquid dripped into the murky toilet water while he gagged. Allen sank back onto his haunches, his sweating forehead resting upon the rim, his breath came in painful rasps while his heart hammered between his ribs.
"How long has your stomach been hurting, Allen?" He raised his head slightly and a cool, dry hand molded itself against his sweaty temple. It felt soothing and Allen butted his head against it like a cat. Only Bookman could enter a room so quietly, Timcanpy must have snuck in behind him.
Bookman began to rub Allen's temple, using just his finger tips in a gentle circular motion. The boy felt his body relax and the muscles go slack as the pain seemed to recede into the background. He suddenly felt very sleepy and heavy eyelids slid shut over his blue eyes. Yes, he would sleep for a while and he'd feel better when he woke up. That's right, I'm just over tired from not enough sleep and...
The pain came roaring back like an express train, dragging Allen back into consciousness along with it. He frantically grabbed at Bookman's shirt, seized a fistful of material in each hand and dug his fingers in with such force his knuckles paled. A scream was also racing up his throat and he closed his teeth on the fabric, howling into his improvised gag. His back bowed as his abdominal muscles contracted again, Allen gagged but nothing came up.
Once the spasm was over, Allen unclenched his hands and crouched, slack-jawed and sweating on the floor. Bookman patted the damp gray hair plastered to Allen;s skull. "Poor boy, you are suffering. But you have an idea what is wrong, don't you?"
"Maybe he has morning sickness!" Allen looked up in sudden horror to see Lavi and half the science department - even the women - had crowded into the men's room to see what was going on. He blushed, the color rising from the collar of his shirt up to his hairline. Lavi suddenly yelped in pain, "Hey! Why'd you hit me, Gramps?"
"Not another word from you, pup!" Bookman growled like an irritated tiger, but he didn't hit Lavi again. First he would make sure Allen was cared for before he gave his idiot apprentice a good thrashing. Lavi rubbed the back of his head and wondered how the tiny old man had managed to reach up high enough to slap him there.
"What's going on here? I heard Allen didn't finish his breakfast, is that true? One side, everyone! Make way!" Allen groaned in resignation. Komui Lee, head officer of the Black Order's Science Department was pushing people out of his way. He swore the man took a special pleasure in torturing him, just so he could use the "toys" he'd invented. Like Komlin. Allen would never forget the monster robot that went on a rampage after it accidentally drank Komui's coffee. Determined to operate upon exorcists, the machine had dragged Allen to its built in surgery room before Lenalee invoked her Innocence and turned Komlin into a huge pile of scrap metal. Allen still had the occasional nightmare about it...
Sharp black eyes behind rimless spectacles pinned Allen down like an insect specimen to a cork board. "Allen," Komui was an excitable type of person given to theatrical gestures. In that way, he was much like Bak Chan, director of the Black Order's Asia Branch. That man tended to break out into hives when he got excited, fortunately, Komui didn't go quite that far. He had his softer side which he reserved only for those he loved and cared about. Komui showed it now in the gentle way he knelt down and scooped an unresisting Allen up into his arms. "You don't have to endure the pain."
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The gentleness didn't last long. "Reever!" Komui bellowed in a voice that carried from one end of the cathedral to the other. "Call Dr. Kildare! Get operating room one ready while I prepare Allen for surgery!" Timcanpy fluttered just above Allen, he was trying to land on Komui's shoulder, but the man was moving too quickly for the golem. Reever stuck his head out from the communications room. He was a tall man with spiky blond hair which stuck out at all angles because he was always running his fingers through it in frustration. It gave him a look of perpetual astonishment, even when he was calm. Which didn't happen very often.
He'd been munching a piece of toast spread with strawberry jam and he could only mumble noncommittally because his mouth was full. But he grabbed his headphones once he'd swallowed and relayed Komui's message to the surgical staff. Then he got up from his chair and went to the examination room. Komui had unceremoniously dumped Allen on an adjustable table and begun unbuttoning the boy's shirt. "Ah! Reever! Get Allen's shirt off while I prepare the sleep medication." Reever shrugged and slipped a few buttons out, then stiffened when Allen grabbed his arm tightly.
"Ungh!" The boy gritted his teeth and his back bowed off the table when another spasm of pain hit. He tried very hard not to scream. Reever was also trying not to scream because Allen had seized him with his deformed left arm, the one which contained the Innocence named "Crowned Clown". The spam passed after a few seconds and Allen relaxed, his pale face dotted with sweat. He let go of Reever's arm and the communications chief looked anxiously at the deep finger marks pressed into the skin. Fortunately nothing seemed broken.
He patted the rumpled red skin affectionately, "It's gonna be O.K. Allen. Try to relax now and y-III!"
The door crashed open and even Allen lept a few inches off the table. "We're going to have a spot of cutting today, eh? wot!? WOT!?"
Reever groaned, but he resisted the urge to smack his forehead with one hand. "Reever?! WHO is that!?" Allen raised his head and he looked at the apparition with a mixture of surprise and horror.
"Allen, this is Dr. Angus Kildare. He's going to - " but the man cut through Reever's gentle explanation like a chainsaw. A very loud chainsaw.
Dr. Angus Kildare stood barely five feet tall in his elevator shoes, but a giant was inside him and struggling to get out. At least that's why Reever guessed he possessed that outsize personality and booming voice to make up for his vertical handicap. Angus Kildare looked like an extremely animated garden gnome, what with his wild auburn hair and long handlebar mustache which defied all attempts at proper grooming. His massively bulbous nose and portruding square chin which entered a room five minutes before he did, didn't seem to match his petite frame. Kildare's fingers, for instance, were long and slender with manicured nails, they wielded scalpels with astonishing grace. But the man's bearing resembled that of a bellicose human-shaped bull in a china shop.
Rumor was he even scared Rouvellier, the hated Vatican inspector, so there was a small measure of respect for him. But only a small measure because his bedside manner was downright frightening. Dr. Kildare bellied right up to the examination table and his very blue eyes raked over the nervous Allen. "Hallo, lad," he said in a briefly softer voice. "Stomach gone a bit tricky-woo, has it?"
Allen nodded before he closed his eyes and grimaced. "Don't worry lad!" Kildare punched Allen's right shoulder and the boy gasped. Timcanpy, who'd been perched on the table by Allen's head took flight in sudden alarm, his sharp fangs bared. "We'll have you right as rain in no time, pip! pip! Tally ho and all that good stuff!"
Without so much as an 'excuse me', he unbuttoned and unzipped Allen's pants and yanked them halfway down his hips. He casually slapped away the boy's hands when he tried to pull them back up. Timcanpy unleashed a rumbling, ominous growl, but the golem squeaked and tried to hide behind Reever after Kildare threw a pointed look at him.
"Golems, heh! Give 'em an inch and they'll take the whole bloody nine yards if you get my meaning, young Walker." Kildare advised while he probed Allen's sore abdomen. "You've spoiled the little beast but a week spent locked in a small trunk would teach him some manners."
"Um, I -" Allen tried to speak, but he was distracted by Kildare's hands. They pressed down on the left side of his abdomen and he grimaced, his teeth grinding together. The fingers danced over the skin,pressing here and there, and making him very nervous. Then they hovered briefly over the right side before pressing down hard. White hot pain hit Allen's nervous system like a tidal wave and he uttered a high-pitched scream. Kildare's eyes widened briefly before he smiled. That was a frightening gesture which bared an extraordinary number of very large, very square and very white teeth.
"Appendicitis!" he shouted as if in triumph. "Are you ready with the syringe, Komui? Ah, good man! I'll leave you to it then while I knock up those layabouts in surgery! Ta-ta!" He walked purposefully out of the examination room, giving the wooden door a good slam which rattled its hinges.
Komui came to the table with a white enamel dish in one hand, which contained the filled syringe, a small brown bottle and a square of cotton. "He takes some getting used to, Allen," he said shakily, a fine sheen of sweat on his temple. "But he's really a very nice man, or so I've heard."
"You heard?!" Allen's query was rather sarcastic while Komui rubbed alcohol rubbed on the inside of his right elbow. He winced at the needles bite, but the sleep medication was very fast acting. He began to feel woozy after just a few seconds and barely noticed when his shoes and pants were removed and a sheet was thrown over him and pulled up to his neck. Komui unlocked the table wheels and he walked beside the semi-conscious Allen while Reever pushed it down the long corridor to the surgery suite. The head science officer rubbed Allen's right shoulder and babbled soothing nonsense to the boy until the anesthesialogist met him at the doors of operating room one. Reever patted Komui's back while he stood and watched wistfully as Allen was wheeled away through a pair of swinging metal doors.
"Allen looks so helpless, Reever."
"He'll be fine, Komui. For all his faults - and he has a lot - Kildare is a great surgeon."
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An extremely bright light stung his eyes and Allen tried to turn his head away, mumbling softly in protest.
"Shhh," a vioce which seemed very far away spoke from somewhere above and behind his head. Allen looked muzzily up at a figure gowned and masked in white. He furrowed his brows in concentration because all he could see of the figure was it's eyes. "Shh", it repeated in a very soft tone and Allen muzzily decided it was a woman.
She held a black hood in one hand,which emitted hissing sounds like a snake. To Allen's horror, she put it over his face and he tried to turn his head and shake it off but she held in in place.
"Breathe deeply, Lord Exorcist," she advised gently, and the voice sounded so nice, Allen did as she asked. The edges of his vision darkened, it narrowed with each breath until he saw just a tiny dot of brightness.
Even that light faded away as black shadows crowded Allen's mind and he spiraled down into darkness.
