A/N: Ouch. And I thought my last oneshot was mean. Wellllll, you'll like this if you're sadistic. *shudder*
Title: Rinse and Repeat
Author: liketolaugh
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Genre: Horror/Tragedy
Warnings: Absolutely the most GRAPHIC thing I've ever written.
Summary: Right before the final battle, Miranda's Innocence evolves.
Disclaimer: I only wish I owned D. Gray-man. Though looking at this, maybe that's a bad idea.
Allen and the Earl never paused for more than a moment during one of their fights, not anymore. But even so, those few, fractured seconds could scream volumes.
Take the Earl, for instance. His grin was even more painfully wide than normal, eyes glittering with vindictive mirth at the world's expense, his hand close to shaking as he gripped his huge, broad sword a little too tight.
Then, across from him, Allen's breath came in harsh pants, heavy and labored, and the silver mask over his eyes couldn't quite hide their desperate, panicked gleam. His hand, too, shook, almost imperceptibly.
Then the broken moment passed, an unspoken agreement filtering through the air. The Earl lunged forward, sword outstretched, a mad gleam in his eyes, and Allen, expecting it, pushed back off the ground, flying backward into the air.
The Earl didn't miss a beat, turning, and Allen touched down, let his knees half-fold under him, propelling him forward under the Earl's swinging sword, and-
It had been early in the morning, when they started. With clear dawn light spilling onto the city as akuma fought exorcist battled Noah. Now starlight gleamed off Crown Clown's thick blade as the Earl stilled, blood bubbling from his lips as he coughed harshly, pain filtering into golden eyes.
Molten gold, Allen thought dimly as the Earl looked over his shoulder to stare blankly at Allen, grin stretching ever wider. Not soft, like the light of dawn, but hot and harsh.
Allen's jaw set, his head dropped slightly, eyes deeply unhappy but not regretful in the least as his wrist moved, his arm jerked, and the sword twisted in the Earl's body with a series of sickening cracks and an awful, awful squelch.
The Earl choked on the pain, gasping, sword clattering to the ground as his hands jerked to hover by the ghastly wound.
"Die," Allen whispered – not harsh, not malignant, but rather half plea and half prayer, a quiet cry to whatever sick-minded deity could stomach this mess.
Then he tugged hard, forcing the Earl's body to release his weapon with a horrible, wet sucking sound that didn't improve with repetition.
The Earl let out a soft, agonized noise, and his knees buckled under his huge form, sending him tumbling forward to hit the ground hard, and thick, hot blood pooled beneath him, his rasps painful to Allen's ears, more so as they slowed, and agonizing, deafening as they stopped.
Allen stared at the body with fearful silver eyes brimming with terrified tears and thought how different it had been the first time.
Flashback
"Have ya given up yet?" teased the Earl, twirling his sword a little with playful confidence, breathing only a little heavy. He swung, forcing Allen to duck under the blow or lose his head. Still, Allen smiled.
"Not on your life."
He jumped aside to avoid the follow-up blow, turned on his heel, and flinched as bloody splattered when his blade bit deep into the Earl's flesh.
A split second had him shutting his eyes and digging the blade deeper, rather than jerking it right back out as his mind screamed for him to.
By the time he couldn't take it anymore and withdrew the bloodsoaked weapon with another cringe at the sound it made, it was buried deep and long past the point of no return.
Golden eyes looked up at him with undisguised surprise, and now that he'd looked he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away, not until the huge chest stilled and molten metal cooled to a glassy shine.
Even then, another moment, two, three passed before it sank in, because the Earl…
The Millenium Earl was dead.
Cool relief swept over him and he backed up a little, sword dropping from his hand, and he let out a soft, almost disbelieving half-laugh, breathless and amazed.
The Millenium Earl was dead. Soon it would be over. All over.
Everything.
He held out his hand for his sword, which flew to his hand with echoes of glee, and turned, stepping away from the Earl's body, heading for the mayhem still made of the city.
Then a sharp, cold pain, swift and fierce, stabbed through his chest, back to front. Shock quickly buried the pain, and, puzzled, he looked down.
The tip of the Earl's sword stared back up at him.
The Earl was not dead.
Neither, after a few minutes, was Allen.
End Flashback
Allen wasn't sure how long they'd been fighting. How much blood flooded the ground, or would, were it not for the thing that kept them alive, which returned their blood to their newly uncut veins. Miranda's Time Recovery kept the exorcists alive, he knew that much, but it didn't extend to the Noah, so there… there was something else. He wasn't sure what. Wasn't sure how many times he'd died that day, wasn't sure how he was still standing, when his body was always healed but never his mind.
The smell of blood was making Allen's head spin. He coughed. Coughed again. Backed away. Tried to gulp at the air, but tasted copper at the back of his throat and gagged.
The Earl's blood was in the air. Allen's, too. Lavi's, Lenalee's, Kanda's…
Blood in the air. In through Allen's mouth, coating his tongue. Down his throat, to fill his lungs. He coughed again, gasping slightly. Coughed. He couldn't breathe.
Dripping, spilling. Lenalee's eyes, wide with pain. Lavi, caught by surprise. Kanda's arm ripped away. The Earl's sword in his belly. His, digging into the space between Road's neck and shoulder. Kanda's, slicing Lulubell's belly clean open. Zokalo's guts strewn across the ground. Red. Red. Red.
There was no blood on the ground, but it filled the air, and Allen was drowning in it, coughing, gasping, choking. Tears in his eyes. Blood in his mouth. Blood everywhere. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe.
"Fire Seal!"
A column of fire blazed around the Earl's body, closing in on it rapidly and consuming it hungrily. The flickering light cleared Allen's mind and he shook his head harshly, breathing heavily, forcing himself to straighten up and focus on reality.
Never stop. Always keep walking.
He breathed deeply through the stench of burning flesh, feeling the heat of the fire wash over him, and looked up with too-wide silver eyes to meet a single crazed green, as wide as his or wider.
Allen was shaking. He tried to make himself hold still. Nothing happened. A tiny, desperate sound escaped his throat.
"Stay strong, beansprout," Lavi muttered to him, voice low – too low to crack, to break – and clasping Allen's shoulder with a hand they both pretended wasn't shaking.
Allen took a deep breath. Shut his eyes. Nodded. Gradually, his shaking slowed, then stopped. When he was sure he could hold steady, he looked up and flashed Lavi a shaky smile, just to prove he still could. I'm fine.
Lavi grinned. A meaningless stretch of his lips. Allen's smile steadied. I'm fine.
"That's the spirit," Lavi told the eighteen-year-old. Grinning. One hand reached up to ruffle Allen's white hair, tinted with red. Not for long. "Marie moved Miranda. She couldn't take seeing everyone, well… going mad."
Allen nodded. He understood. "Thanks for letting me know," he said quietly.
Lavi smiled. Smiled. Eye wide and manic with forced cheer. "No problem, beansprout," he said. Cheerful. He turned, then paused, throwing over his shoulder, because he had to joke about it, "I bet mine's worse than yours."
Ripping. Tearing. Blood and teeth and screaming. Allen smiled self-deprecatingly. "I doubt it."
"Mikk pulled out my intestines and strangled me with them." Grin. Grin. Blood in the air. Allen coughed. "Aren't you dying enough without choking on air?"
Allen smiled. Allen smiled, because if he didn't smile, he was going to scream, and if he screamed, he might not be able to stop. "Lulubell ate me."
Lavi blinked. Coughed. Then he laughed, with a distinctly brittle edge Allen didn't mention. "Damn, Allen. What'd you do to her?"
Allen laughed, too, rocking back and forth on the edge of hysteria. "I think she thought that maybe if she ate me, I would stay dead." Smile. Smile. Blood in the air. Thick and hot, running unseen on the ground. Teeth and tearing and hot desperate breath. I'm fine. I'm fine. "I haven't seen her do it since, so I think she figured out that it won't work." Terror and despair, thick in the air, suffocating. Allen smiled. Allen smiled.
Mana had smiled, too. Did he ever feel it? The stench of terror, cloying despair, blood, thick on the ground, in the air? Allen thought not. Hoped not.
Either way, Allen was very well aware that he was going the way of his foster father.
Never stop. Always keep walking.
"That's good," Lavi said, with forced cheer. "I thought she looked a little more together when I saw her. Has to get worse before it gets better, right?" Smile. Smile. Smile or scream.
"Right," Allen agreed unconvincingly. Ripping, tearing.
There was no blood in his hair.
They moved. Neither wanted to be around when the Earl woke up, and neither wanted to see the other die again, so Lavi nodded to Allen with an ironic salute and took off.
Allen half-listened as Lavi's footsteps pounded away, but they quickly faded out of hearing. With Lavi gone, Allen's smile dropped away, and he shuddered once before forcing himself along.
He moved. He moved, and he kept walking, and the battle wasn't where he'd left it, because all he found was crumbled rubble and no blood. No blood on the ground.
He took a breath and moved on. Don't think. Just move.
Don't think.
In the quiet, everything was too loud. Allen's feet on the pavement, screams and yells in the distance (just around the corner), his breaths, panting and harsh, the thud of his heart, beating too fast.
When had Allen started to run?
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Was that Allen's feet on the ground or his heart in his ears?
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Breath harsh and rasping.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Broken buildings blurring by.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
He tripped.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-THUMP.
The air rushed from Allen's lungs as he hit the ground hard, wincing as the rubble dug into him. He lay there for a moment, struggling to inhale, to force his lungs to inflate. It was harder than it should be.
Air wouldn't come. The taste of coppery blood filled his mouth. Jagged rocks dug into his palms, his elbows, his wrists.
He didn't want to…
It wouldn't… He couldn't…
Never stop.
A rush of air filled his lungs with a great gasp.
Allen got up and kept running.
Eventually, Allen found Lenalee, masks long worn away, leaving behind only raw emotion and wild eyes set above a mouth fixed in a firm line. Fists tight, shoulders set. Angry and hurt, lashing out with everything she had and everything she didn't.
Road was the current victim of her desperate rage, floating in the air, smiling, crying, smiling. Laughing. Hysteria in her eyes. Tears and disbelief. Laughing. Crying. Laughing.
"Allen!" crooned Road, turning upside down to smile at him in midair, too wide and too warm. Giggling. Tears in her eyes. "Good to see you!" She tipped her head to one side, exposing pale, unmarked flesh where he had sunk his blade the last time he'd seen her. "I missed you!" She pouted. "You just left me all alone."
Blood in the air. Not a single mark left. Nothing on the ground. "I knew you'd be alright." Like they were on the same side.
She giggled. Laughing. Crying. "Alright? You really thought so?" Too wide and too warm and too wet.
Lenalee glanced at Allen. She didn't say a word; she hadn't for some time now. Lost her voice to the chaos and the pain and the screaming in her mind. Instead, she gripped his arm hard, grasp nearly bruising.
She gave him a searching look, which he answered with a quick smile and a nod. She smiled back, all instinct and no feeling, and both of them looked back to the front, where Road was still smiling, tears trickling down her face.
"I'd tell you to prepare to die," she said. Sob in her throat and laugh on her lips. Smile. Smile. "But I think we all know that won't happen." Giggle.
Allen smiled. Never stop. It would… "It's an old line anyway." Voice light and offhanded. "It's too overdone for you." Head light and airy. Dizzy. He felt dizzy. He was fine.
He was fine.
She laughed, even though it wasn't actually that funny. She laughed as candles – wicked, flaming, pointed – faded in around her, she laughed as she sent them flying for Lenalee, and when Allen took the blow, she was still laughing.
She was still laughing as pain set Allen's nerves on fire, as his vision grayed out, she was still laughing as Lenalee let out a furious scream and launched herself at Road.
They wanted to die.
They didn't want to die.
Allen… Allen wasn't quite sure. But they didn't want to live. Allen knew that much.
By the time grey fell to black, the laughter had turned to crying, and then the crying to screams.
Then Allen woke up (never stop) and by then, Lenalee and Road had gone.
Blood hung in the air.
He'd scarcely had time to take in half a breath before some instinct made him throw himself to one side, barely in time; the Earl's sword grazed his arm, and blood leaked from the new wound like an old, tired stream that just flowed doggedly on.
"Aw." He could hear the pout in the Earl's voice. "I didn't realize you'd woken."
Allen opened his eyes and tipped his head back to look at the Earl, eyes rainstorm grey. "I hadn't."
The Earl chuckled. Allen didn't think it was funny.
Never stop.
They fought.
Allen didn't know how long they'd been fighting. It had been a long time; the moon had flown through the sky, the sun over their heads, with dawn and dusk on the horizon, but he wasn't sure how many times.
He wasn't sure it mattered.
His mind had stopped screaming. Instead, it had gone quiet. Just quiet. But he still felt it, the scream, nestled deep in his chest, trapped. He wasn't sure he could let it out if he tried.
Hints of dawn danced on the horizon. Maybe it had only been a day and a night. It felt like longer.
They should stop. None of them would get anywhere like this, trapped in an everliving hell. They should stop.
They should stop.
General Nyne was angry. General Nyne had been angry at everything, almost since they'd realized what was going on, angry at everything – at the Noah, at the other exorcists, at the buildings she hit, the ground under her feet.
One foot stomped on the ground, and she bared her teeth in a snarl as she sent Lau Jimin rampaging toward Tyki, screeching and foaming at the mouth, clumsy and graceless.
Tyki paid the rabid animal no mind, fixing bloodshot eyes on her stomach, an empty smirk curling his lips, tinted with maliciousness and echoing with hollow rage. Allen recalled – distantly, slowly – that Lavi had mentioned being strangled by his own intestines.
Even in this emptiness, Allen found it in himself to be endlessly, unbelievably relieved that General Cross was already dead. Wasn't here. The man was a bastard, but he didn't deserve this.
He didn't deserve this.
Tyki didn't manage to get to the desired organs in time. He darted once, twice, was right in front of her, her hands going for his throat, his fingers just starting to sink into her flesh – he froze – and then tipped to the side, fingers slipping uselessly back out of Nyne, leg cut out from under him.
Kanda stood over him, and Tyki's hand clutched hard at the stump of his leg. Still, he managed to give the glaring samurai a somewhat mad grin. "Guess you got me again, eh?"
Kanda didn't answer. Kanda had stopped talking not long after Lenalee had. Instead, he just bared his teeth and plunged Mugen into Tyki.
Well, he had always been threatening to stab people in the face.
Kanda growled lowly at the unmoving, bloody corpse, and Allen, ducking a blow from the akuma he was fighting, tried to come up with a quip about Kanda finally going feral, but he and Kanda spotted Nyne's headless corpse, skull crushed, at the same time, and suddenly he just didn't feel like it anymore.
He didn't feel anything anymore.
Within moments, the wildfire in Kanda's navy eyes blazed again, consuming everything in their path, including Kanda himself. A snarl twisted his features and he rounded on Sheryl, who smiled at him and snapped his fingers.
Kanda's ribcage exploded outward and there was red.
"I'm sorry, dearie, I just can't stand wild animals," Sheryl said lightly. Too wide and too warm.
Allen smiled. It was easy, now that he didn't have to hold back a scream, or a sob, or an awful, harsh laugh. His lips curved, falling naturally into the familiar expression, and his silver mask revealed nothing to the contrary.
His arm gave him away instead, coming up, sword clasped tight, and Sheryl winked at him with a sad smile just before his head fell from his shoulders.
Allen, the only one left in the alley now, smiled. He wasn't sure why, and he wasn't sure how, but he smiled.
If he could still smile, then he could still stand.
If he could still stand, then he could still fight.
And if he could still fight, that was enough. Just enough.
Allen smiled.
Blood in the air.
"Allen!"
Lavi's call, loud and frantic and ringing with half-mad realization, cut through the haze and made him look up, grey eyes locating the redhead's form, riding his hammer's handle like a broomstick.
Allen tipped his head inquisitively as Lavi tumbled gracelessly off his hammer and then stumbled toward him without so much as a pause for recovery, grabbing the younger male by the shoulders, eyes wide and manic.
"Allen, it's Miranda!"
Allen felt like crying. Allen couldn't cry. He laughed instead. "Lavi, it's everyone."
Lavi shook him, desperately, grip too hard. "No, Allen, it's Miranda! Miranda's doing this!"
Confusion began to break though stormcloud eyes. "Huh?"
Lavi shook him again. "Remember what she said before the battle? She said, 'I hope…"
"That no one dies today," Allen finished, confusion and hurt swirling together. Then his eyes widened. "But… last time… when she wished for no tomorrow…"
They stared at each other.
Then, at the same time, they turned and ran, that tiny little spark called hope starting to wake from its slumber.
"Oh, Walker."
Blood and teeth and screaming.
Allen didn't have time to brood. Lavi shoved him forward before he could even turn his head.
"Go!" Lavi snapped, eyes clearer and more focused than they had been for what felt like ages. He turned and stood his ground, teeth bared in challenge to Lulubell. "Get to Miranda!"
Allen kept running. Passing things he tried not to look at.
He failed.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Timothy, terrified and crying, spirit ripping through the akuma, explosions marking his path like a dotted line.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Road, laughing, screaming, ripping into Lenalee, silent and crying and still.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Chaoji, like a wild animal, trying fruitlessly to strangle an armored level three.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Krory, furious and feral, ripping through whole crowds of akuma.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Allen finally reached the very edge, past the worst of the blood and the screaming. Marie, tense and jumpy, whirled on him as his footsteps pounded near, but relaxed as soon as the boy called out, "Miranda!", falling into an exhausted half-slump.
"Allen," he greeted tiredly, voice strained, muscles tense.
"Marie," Allen returned breathlessly. Almost over. It was almost over. Stormcloud cleared to silver, and the sun peeked over the horizon, wondering if it was safe to come out yet.
"What's going on?" Marie questioned warily.
"We can stop it," Allen explained, feeling something perilously close to excitement. "Lavi figured out what was causing it."
Something rippled through Marie's frame, and he tipped his head toward Allen in a nod. "Whatever it takes," he said, voice low.
Allen nodded. Allen smiled. "I know."
Allen slipped past Marie and dropped to his knees in front of Miranda, who knelt, shivering, silent, head dropped to hide her face, a few feet behind him.
Allen let his Innocence melt back into his arm and gently put his left hand on her right. "Miranda," he said softly, urgently.
Slowly, hesitantly, Miranda lifted her head, brown eyes swimming with tears. A moment later, she threw herself at Allen, crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
"It's okay," Allen lied, holding her close and drawing as much comfort from the contact as she did. "It's okay."
Finally, Miranda recovered herself enough to pull away, wiping at her eyes. Eventually, she looked up, warm brown eyes confused. "Allen, what are you doing here?"
Allen smiled, because with what Miranda was about to hear, she needed it. "We figured out why no one is dying."
Her eyes widened, a hint of hope peeking through.
"Do you remember what you said?" he asked. Soft, gentle, so much so as to be nearly unbearable. "Before the battle."
"I said that I hoped that no one died," she said quietly. "But I don't understand."
Allen smiled. "We think that your Innocence must have evolved then," he explained. Soft. Gentle. Because Miranda needed it. "To grant your wish, like it did before."
He could see it in her eyes, on her face, the shock and horror and helpless confusion as the realization sank in. "But… Allen… I didn't mean…" Pleading. Tears in her eyes.
"I know." Simple.
"Then what…?" Shadows swept over Miranda's face, gloom and grief clouding her eyes even as she let the question trail off.
Allen waited, because Miranda already knew.
A gasp caught in her throat, a cut-off sob, a strangled whimper. Something, some small, helpless combination of the three, that was the sound Miranda made. "Allen, I can't."
Allen's mask cracked, just enough for the wildness, the desperation to return. "Miranda, please." Hoarse, almost too quiet to hear, "Please, just let us die."
She hesitated.
Marie, silent during the revelation and silent now, dropped to one knee beside Miranda, drawing her gaze to him, and just looked at her. And Miranda must have seen something in his expression, because her gaze was transfixed to him.
He tipped his head toward her. Confirmation. Acquiescence.
She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away, and, slowly, reached one hand toward her Innocence. Allen let out an unmistakable, relieved sob.
"Time Record," she whispered. "Deactivate."
Allen smiled. Miranda screamed. Pain exploded all over Allen's body, and the world went black.
Allen smiled, and the early dawn light bloomed over the city.
The battle had lasted for two days and two nights. On the afternoon of the third day, a team of finders ventured in and found Miranda, unconscious and covered in blood.
She was the only survivor.
Miranda was taken to the Black Order to recover and remained unconscious for three days. Upon her awakening, Miranda refused to speak, remaining silent and unresponsive.
All attempts to find out what had transpired failed; any mention of the battle only made the lone exorcist cry.
One month after the first day of the final battle, Miranda Lotto committed suicide, and the exorcists were no more.
I don't... *gestures meaninglessly* Know. What to do with this. Um. I'm not even sure what this is. *shrug* However! I tried out a LOAD of new tricks I've never done before, so if you could let me know what worked and what didn't, you know, what you liked, that would be great. Please review! Thanks!
Edit: First, a BAZILLION thanks to the three who have reviewed thus far, being That-Other-One, COFFIN SelleR, and Will of the Abyss - AllenxRoad. All three reviews MADE MY DAY. Anyway, I went through this and fixed the many typos. They disrupt the flow. *shudder* I did have to type the entire thing in two hours. Not fun. But. Again, please review! I'd love to hear anything you have to say.