Note: This is an AU because the Noah and Earl don't know about Allen and the 14th. Everything else should be the same. Enjoy!

xXx

Swish!

Allen ground his teeth as he felt the candles go flying by, jamming themselves thankfully into the wall behind him. That had been too close, just like most of this stupid fight had been.

His group of exorsists had been exploring some old ruins that were rumored to be haunted, searching for innocence when they'd been ambushed by Rhode and a hoard of Akuma. Most of the Akuma hadn't been so much of a problem, well, not until the Level four had shown up. Then Allen had already gone after Rhode, separating himself from the rest of the group.

Setting his jaw, Allen turned, facing the young woman sitting on the floating (and complaining) umbrella. He paused for only a moment before launching himself up at her, sword in hand. Unfortunately, that pause was all she needed to launch another attack herself and dance out of range of his offence, forcing him to take up defensive yet again.

"Ku," he almost coughed out, frustration doing its part to hinder his movements, adding to the stress of the fight.

Vaguely he could hear the other battle, with most of those who had come with him (Linalee, Miranda and Lavi), against the level four. Allen desperately wanted to finish here and go to help them, but something other than just the frustration tainted every attack.

He knew what, too. How could he attack, with good conscience, someone who may very well call him "family", no matter how evil they were. As much as he loathed to admit it, he knew he may very well end up all too much like her.

Rhode studied him intently as he turned to attack her again, once again swinging his sword effortlessly…and yet not fast enough.

"You're different today," she pointed out as he once again missed her, and the umbrella (who freaked out very loudly, although this did nothing to earn the attention of either of the other two in the room).

A lump formed at the back of Allen's throat. He wasn't sure if there was some sort of feeling she'd get from the Fourteenth's memories that had started to awaken, or if she had picked up (consciously or subconsciously) on his barely perceptible hesitations. Either way, the last thing he wanted to do was let her know about the Fourteenth and how much said personality bothered him. All he could really do was his best to keep her from figuring that out…that was, if they didn't know already.

He shuddered inwardly at that thought. What would they say? What would they think? How would they act towards him? He didn't really want to know, and dwelling on it only helped to make him sick.

So in response, he merely jumped at her again, but again his thoughts had caused a hesitation.

"Why?" she asked, mirth dancing in her cruel eyes. "What is on your mind to distract you so, Allen-kun?"

The knot in his throat quickly moved to his stomach. 'Don't call me that,' he thought, but didn't trust himself to speak at the moment. Gripping his sword more tightly, he turned to attack her, this time without hesitation.

She barely dodged the swing, having to throw her body and the umbrella towards the side of the room, brining her toys up as a blockade as he followed her. Still, she couldn't help but smirk as she quickly regained her composure.

"Hit a nerve, Allen-kun?"

Allen only grit his teeth tighter. He saw confusion in her eyes, but that only scared him more. If she was confused, that meant she saw something that didn't add up completely. That meant she could figure it out, and he could not let that happen. If the Earl knew…

The Fourteenth had been a traitor, or at least was considered one as far as he knew. Maybe they'd just come after him with a new vengeance. He could handle that. He could even handle the invitations to join their side or die (he knew which one he'd choose in a heartbeat). It was the thought that they might treat him differently that seemed uproot the fear inside of his heart. The thought that they might keep him alive while torturing his friends and companions or that they could somehow fully awaken the Noah side of him if they knew…he forced his mind away from such thoughts, trying desperately to concentrate on the battle Just in time to dodge another candle attack from Rhode.

Why did she like those candles so much? Why couldn't it be something that at least sounded more threatening, like knives or…something? How could she make something as pleasant as candles so utterly sadistic.

What made all of them certifiable? Why did any Noah want to kill those around them? Why did they join the side against humanity? Humanity could be horrible, true, but it could also be amazing, awe-inspiring and incredible. Was there something innately born inside the Noah…inside him?

Suddenly, his mind seemed to overflow with questions, all of them desperately needing an answer, but he knew he had no source to turn to; not since his master either died or disappeared. Would he actually transform? Would his skin turn gray? His hair black (he'd look awfully strange)? Would he even be in control, or would it be the fourteenth's personality? Would it hurt? Would he suddenly change, or would it be gradual? Was it even something he could fight at all? Even if it wasn't, he was going to try, but that didn't answer the question. The urge to finally find an answer directly from the source before him came so strongly, that he almost blurted out every single question racing round in his mind right then and there, but he kept himself in check, eying Rhode suddenly.

She saw him stop, and for some odd reason (probably morbid curiosity) stopped herself.

Allen's breathing quickened, as if his lungs had become restricted. His master had said that he'd either want to or need to kill someone. Not just anyone, but someone he loved. Had that been the case with all the Noahs?

"Is there something wrong, Allen-kun?" Rhode's sickeningly sweet voice reminded him of the situation, and he took a deep breath. He had to ask. He'd regret it if he didn't, he knew. He could feel it.

"Who did you kill?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Rhode blinked in surprise. Kill? She'd killed a lot of people, and he knew that. Why would he ask--?

"The first one, I mean," he clarified, although he hadn't turned around, keeping his back (rather foolishly in her opinion) to him.

The confused expression lightened slightly. "Is that what's been on your mind?" she giggled. "Why do you ask?"

He swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had returned to the back of his throat. "My…my master told me that all Noahs had to kill someone they loved." Finally he turned to look up at her over his shoulder.

Rhode found herself even more surprised at what she saw in his eyes than she had been at his question. He seemed to have a need to know, but it wasn't his normal "please-tell-me" kind of look, but a desperation that she had only seen once before, when she'd taken the dark-haired exorcist, and the time innocence that with the compatible user.

What made him suddenly so desperate?

"Do you really hate fighting me that much?" she asked, leaning her head on the back of her intertwined hands, her normal sadistic smile returning.

At that, Allen turned away. She'd hit too close to home that time. Allen almost kicked himself. He should have acted like normal, and just kept his mouth shut. He gripped his sword more tightly, and was just about to turn and start another offensive again, when he heard her speak.

"My mother," she said softly, but her voice held nothing gentle in it. Allen couldn't figure out why, but it seemed to be filled with a loathing that belied the quiet tone.

"Did you hate her?" he asked.

"My own mother?" Rhode stood on Relo and looked up, stretching her arms out behind her back, to anyone else, she would probably appear as nonchalant as normal, but Allen had fought her often enough to know that something about her movements felt forced.

She didn't look back down at him, looking up as if seeing the memories above her. "Mother did everything for me. I don't remember my father. He died just after I'd been born; at least that's what Mother told me." She looked down, balancing on the silent (for once) umbrella, sticking her foot off to the side for a few moments, and then putting it in back or in front of the one that kept her firmly rooted and balanced on Relo, almost as if she were doing a routine on a balance beam.

"The time I was born in…wasn't kind on single mothers," Rhode's voice took on a note of hurt and hate that Allen hadn't heard from her before. "But somehow, we managed. To this day, I don't know what she had to go through to keep me alive, but it could not have been pleasant. I knew that even back then, although I couldn't truly comprehend it."

Allen felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He did not like where this story was headed.

"Then the change started," Rhode stopped playing with her feet and looked back at the ceiling. "Even now, I have never experienced anything so painful. That's how it is with all Noah." Allen cringed. Great, did he have that to look forward to as well? "Mother practically killed herself with worry. I don't remember a moment during that time when she wasn't there."

Allen felt his stomach turn again, but couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the floating girl.

"When the pain finally left, I remember waking up, and she wasn't there. It was dark, so she couldn't have gone to town for supplies (not that she would have left my side anyway). So of course, I jumped out of bed, ignored what was left of that pain, and ran out the door of the little shamble that we dared to call a hut."

Suddenly, the smile returned to her lips. Allen started to concentrate on keeping down what he'd eaten for lunch only a few hours earlier (which hadn't been a small meal either).

"At first I didn't remember--part of the disorientation after recovering. She wasn't dead when I found her lying there, with a candle in her hand. She'd gone out to get fresh water for me. I saw her as soon as I'd left the hut, just lying on the ground, stabbed…" she faded off, looking almost thoughtful.

"Stabbed?" Allen managed to choke out. He had to know what to expect…but that did not mean he looked forward to the ending of this particular story.

"My father had been a farmer," Rhode shrugged, and turned to look at him, her eyes glinting maliciously. "Mother had sold most of the land, but there were still some very pleasant looking tools around there, old and rusty…" she let the sentence fade, and the exorcist didn't ask her to finish.

"My first instinct was to try and help her, make her more comfortable," the smile disappeared for a moment. "I ran up to her, grabbed her hand, told her to hold on," then the sadistic grin returned in full force. "Do you know what she did, Allen-kun?" Allen didn't answer, concentrating too hard on keeping his stomach from feeling like an out-of-control train running in circles around his stomach.

"I remember the expression on her face. So much pain, so much fear…" Allen closed his eyes, willing the images that came to mind away. "She was hurt, you know, but not just physically. Her own daughter, the only person she'd sacrificed everything for, had killed her.

"It was that look that brought it all back. When she'd left, I'd followed. It's an exhilarating feeling, you know; the tension of stalking your pray, the satisfaction when she turned around and realized who was following her and why, and the rush when I took the hay-fork and—"

"Stop!" Allen cried out suddenly, unable to take anymore.

Rhode looked down, her face almost innocent. "You don't like me telling you how much I actually enjoyed killing her?"

"Was that really you?" Allen asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The dark-haired girl blinked. "Of course it was."

"Then why didn't you remember?" Allen asked, feeling as if her were reaching out desperately, grasping at straws. "Right after you woke up, why did you care again?"

Rhode shrugged, but again her movements seemed forced. "I told you, it was part of recovery."

"That doesn't make sense," Allen said, half to himself.

"Of course it does!" Rhode ground out harshly, any amusement in her voice suddenly gone. "If you were a Noah, you'd understand."

Allen's breath caught in his throat, and his fingers clenched shut even tighter, squeezing the hilt of his sword.

"Never," he whispered.

"What?" the Noah's glare sharpened.

"I'll NEVER understand!" Allen yelled out, and before he really knew what he was doing, he launched his sword up at the floating girl. "Never!" he gasped out. His hands shook with rage, and his legs could barely keep him upright he felt so angry. How dare she even suggest…? That one had hit directly on the mark. At this point he didn't know if she found out, and he almost found himself not caring.

That's when he heard the loud shriek behind him, and turned to see the level four Akuma take a rather harsh hit from Linalee with the new form of her boots while Lavi recovered under Miranda's little time-bubble.

Allen paused at that, as he watched the Akuma for a few moments. He tried not to look at the overwhelming soul the level four had chained to it, crying out in pain and anguish. Slowly, he felt the anger melt away and he turned back to Rhode. She glared down at him, her candles before her and ready to shoot down at him the minute he moved to get his sword (which had hit the wall and bounced off again, and lay at the base of the wall)…or did anything else for that matter.

She's just like them, he suddenly realized. If his theory was true, then her own consciousness was tied to her Noah, just like an Akuma had a soul tied to them, acting as only fuel for the body that held bloodlust and programming to follow the urge and the Earl. He couldn't see her soul, and maybe she was human…but she was still tied. Tied to her Noah instincts.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Rhode continued to glare down at him. "For what?"

"Being so angry," he turned and smiled up at her, throwing her completely off guard. "I'll save everyone I can. With Noah, I'll just have to use both hands."

"We don't need saving," Rhode eyed him carefully, but allowed him to proceed. "But thank you for thinking of me, Allen-kun." Her voice once again turned sickeningly sweet. "Shall we continue?"

With that she threw her candles down. Allen launched himself at the sword, grabbing it and holding it up as a shield while he dodged the candles.

The Akuma shrieked again from the other room, and Allen could see the soul released just one second before the whole thing exploded. That's how it always happened. His eyes widened, and he threw himself to the side, against the wall for some protection from the blast.

In moments, it was over, dust settling everywhere. Allen looked up, amazed the cavern he'd been in had held up against the blast. The other room had no such luck and had begun to fall in on itself.

"Rhode?" he asked, suddenly looking around for the Noah, but nothing came into view. She'd undoubtedly escaped through one of her doors.

Then he heard a strangled cry from the other room, and any thought of the girl flew out of his head. "Linalee! Miranda! Lavi!" he called out to his companions, and ran through the doorway.

xXx

They'd gotten away unscathed, thanks to Miranda's time lapse. She stopped time in a small space and quite literally walked every single one of them out of the cavern while it had tried to collapse on top of them.

The worst part about the whole thing, was the fact that they'd found no innocence. Mr. Link had been waiting outside for them, as always, and now Allen sat in his bed while the other man slept on the other side of the room, in a cot, his breathing slow and even.

Link really wasn't that bad of a guy, Allen had convinced himself. He'd just gotten mixed up in this whole thing, and there wasn't really anything either one could do about it.

His thoughts turned from the lump in the corner to the Noah he'd fought earlier that day. Sighing, he looked down at his hands: One for the Akuma, one for the humans, both for the Noah.

So what about an Exorsist Noah? Was that covered? Rhode had answered many of his questions, but at the same time raised even more it seemed, or at least made the remaining questions seem so much more daunting.

He caught his reflection in the window and winced at the figure floating behind him in the reflection. Then he balled his hands into fists and got up off of his bed quietly. He approached the window softly, but firmly, his eyes fixed on the reflection of the Fourteenth.

"I'll never understand you," he whispered harshly to the figure in the background. "And I'll never be one of you."

Satisfied, Allen walked back to his bed and lay down, pulling his covers up and over his shoulder.

The figure in the window only watched and smiled.