A/N: Hey! *grin* It's been a little while since I made a Conflict of Interest entry, hasn't it? I got the idea for this one from hurryup, and damn I'm pleased with how it came out. It's a good transition, I think.

Title: Ties That Bind

Author: liketolaugh

Rating: T

Pairings: Allen/Link

Genre: Romance/Angst

Warnings: None

Summary: Allen sees Link's new scar for the first time.

Disclaimer: Like hell I own D. Gray-man.

If Link was completely honest with himself, the prospect of sharing a room with Allen Walker again was making him somewhat uncomfortable.

It was absurd. They'd been sharing a room for months, and toward the beginning of that they had been worse than strangers. Toward the end, they'd shared a bed almost as often as not, so sleeping in the same room should be of no consequence at all.

But that had been then.

Link exhaled quietly, facing away from Allen as he frowned at the wall, fingers working rapidly down the buttons of his shirt.

Now, the idea of sleeping in a room with him, alone – something Kanda refused to tolerate for the first week Link travelled with them, the cause of a few petty arguments – carried… connotations of feelings and wishes that had become inappropriate. Divorcing those connotations from the activity itself, which was a mere practicality, was... difficult.

He stole a glance over his shoulder. Allen, of course, wasn't so shy as to face the wall himself, but he wasn't looking at Link, either – he wasn't looking at anything, gaze unfocused and distant. With a thought, Link assessed his expression and held back a sigh – Allen was thinking about Mana again, and not in a good way.

Or Neah, perhaps. The expressions were oddly similar now. Link hadn't asked why, but he knew Kanda knew, and that he disapproved but hadn't objected. Link doubted that Allen would lie if he asked, and he might even tell him, but frankly Link didn't want to know.

Almost involuntarily, Link dropped his gaze from Allen's face to his shirtless chest. Allen had stalled in the middle of undressing, and his shirt was bunched in his hands, his shoulders shifted back slightly in subconscious thought.

Lower, there was the stab wound in his stomach, staunched by the strange Innocence feathers. It was smaller than it had been a few months ago, and against all odds, it didn't look infected. With that in mind, when Link twitched with the urge to get up and look, he stomped the urge down and looked away again.

His lingering look must have drawn Allen's attention, though, because Allen blinked and then flicked his eyes to meet Link's, questioning. Link held his gaze with a measure of effort and shook his head, turning away to shrug his shirt off.

I could heal it with Atuuda, he thought, not for the first time, brow furrowed pensively. It would unquestionably be beneficial- after all, it probably hurts the Fourteenth even more than it does Allen-

The back of Link's neck pricked, and without thinking, he swung his head around, and then started. Allen had stood up, and was making his way over, eyes wide and startled. Uncharacteristically, he didn't even attempt to make eye contact – he was looking at Link's chest.

Confused, Link looked down as well. It took a moment, an embarrassingly long moment, for him to realize what had caught Allen's attention, but then it clicked.

Allen hadn't seen him with his shirt off since the Noah had come to the dungeon.

"What happened?" Allen asked quietly, a very real note of worry straining his voice. Link swallowed against the sudden tightness in his chest, one half-clenched fist coming up as if to either hide it from sight or defend against Allen's words.

"Don't worry about it," he said without thinking, tight and brusque. He met Allen's gaze evenly, feeling his heart beat too fast and too hard in his chest. "It's healed."

Allen didn't look convinced – if anything, he looked more worried. "It can't be that old," he muttered, frowning. He moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed a foot from Link, and Link didn't move away. "I haven't seen-" His eyes widened, and Link still didn't look away. "Was that…?"

Before he could even think to deny it, Link nodded, and Allen inhaled sharply, a silent anguish entering his eyes that nearly made Link break his gaze.

"After you left," Link offered shortly. He may not remember it, but it must have been, if Allen hadn't seen it.

"Is that through and through?" Allen asked, voice going a little higher. His silver eyes were wide with horror as he shifted closer so he could brush his fingers lightly over the still-pink scar, all of his attention on Link without another thought in the world.

Link's chest tightened until he felt like he couldn't breathe. His clenched hand loosened reflexively and went to cover Allen's, both of them on top of Link's chest, half-intertwined for the briefest of moments. Allen's hand, human and ungloved, was warm and rough, with his fingers pressed lightly to Link's until Link took a slow, careful breath and pushed his hand away.

"Please don't," Link said. His throat was too tight to say anything more, but he didn't need to – Allen winced and pulled away quickly, gaze flicking uncomfortably away.

He saw Allen open his mouth and close it – just the edge of a sincere apology, Link recognized, and wished that he hadn't spent so long memorizing Allen's expressions.

"Does it hurt?" Allen asked, without looking back at him.

Link hesitated for a long moment, and then said, "Yes."

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The silence was bulky and uncomfortable, and Link took the time to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and then let it out, forcibly centering himself as efficiently as he could in the space of a second.

One life was not worth the world. It was one of the first lessons a CROW learned, and one Link had always had trouble with. It had never been so blatant as it was now, though.

If Leverrier hadn't asked him to, he thought, he wouldn't have had the strength to do this. Link had never had Leverrier's pragmatic mind.

But he could try.

Link took a deep breath and, knowing that he could never say it if he was looking at Allen, knowing that it was probably hopeless – Allen was an idealist down to the marrow of every bone in his body – he spoke, with his eyes on a crack in the wall.

"You shouldn't worry about me," he said to the crack. "We aren't on the same side anymore, Allen Walker. It won't do you any good, or me. It's just going to make your task and mine both more difficult. It would be easier if-"

Allen hissed, a near-silent, most likely involuntary sound of pain. Link stopped talking.

There was a lump in his throat.

"I don't care," Allen said, and it was fierce and uncompromising and exactly as Link had thought it would be. What had Link done to earn that sort of loyalty? (Worse than nothing.) "I don't care if it'll make it harder, Link. I won't stop caring about you. You deserve better than that."

I deserve better?

Link took a breath, sharp and shallow, and felt his eyes sting.

A moment later, he realized his cheeks were wet.

Then god damn it, Allen… Stop making this so hard!

"Go to bed, Allen," he said, voice scraped raw. He felt Allen hesitate beside him, and without looking, could see him stop himself from reaching out, get up, and cross the room back to his own bed. Before he could stop himself, he added, "I love you."

He was such a hypocrite, but Allen's relief was almost palpable.

"Thank you," Allen said with aching sincerity. "I love you too."

It hurt more than Link thought it would, and he thought to himself that it would be much, much kinder if Allen didn't.

But it wasn't Link's choice. Not this, and not his orders.

He crossed himself and thought, I won't fail. No matter what, I will not fail.

Still, his sins crawled on his back.

There! *rueful smile* Yeah, they're not having a real easy time of it right now... Either of them. And it's only going to get harder from here, tbh... Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review!