Title: Exhaling
Author: Pup-Ashbless
Fandom: D Gray Man
Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray Man. Those right belong to Hoshino.
Pairing: I don't really care anymore. This was supposed to be a friendship fic, but if people really want to see the LenAllen pairing then go right ahead. Sink my general down with your ship! (I'm joking, really.)
Summary: Sequel to Smoking: Character is what you are in the dark, so they say.
Warnings: Character death(s).
So (finally) ends the story. This will follow the Allen now as he goes from living through the war… to surviving the cost of life and consequences with happiness.
The war was still going, but their fight was over…
Allen always dreamed, he never remembered them when he was awake, but he could recall them all when asleep.
This was the first one.
"I think I know a similarity between the two you and the members of the Order."
"Oh." She looks like she is not ever paying attention, his screams are gone so is her lust.
"You actually know what you are doing is bad, don't you?"
Road eyed him quickly before acting as though the gleam on her nails was most fascinating to watch.
"Bad? No, I feel no shame in my actions. Evil, I could give you that." She gave him her attention again with indifferent content.
"I don't think the Order, people like the Thirds and Inspector Leverire know that they are doing is both bad and evil."
"How do you define evil and good, is not the quote, There is no good or evil but thinking makes it so, a favored saying by one of the more highly acclaimed humans?"
"I don't believe that, not to that extent! If what your saying is true, than why is there such a never ending cycle of fighting and peace that comes after! People can't just decide on what is good or evil like they are judges with authority."
"Oh, oh really." She almost looks bore again after his outburst but still smiles as though she were purring. "What can we judge?"
"Ourselves."
Allen took a breath, though it really wasn't needed he guessed, "Whether it's carnal, circumstances or just bad paths taken, no one has the right to decide what is right and wrong. They just exist and I believe we all, deep down know this, but we refuse to take the responsibility for our lives."
"Gray…" She almost purred.
"Right and Wrong have already been decided by God. Whether people want to believe or follow those teachings is their choice. I've seen too much and done too little to deserve to think I can make any laws that govern a person's heart or destiny. We all are our own makers of destiny."
"The destroyer of Time…" Her voice sounded slightly different, he wondered why?
"Ironic, everyone thought the time I would destroy was this worlds or the Earl…but… in reality it was my own. I did it without even realizing so for so long…."
"Perhaps you could end it, let the Brother of Adam and Auguste lull you to sleep from this life of broken time."
"I refuse; I will never let anyone take responsibility of control over my life! This life I've been given is mine alone, who I want to share it with and why along with what actions I take is mine alone. I will never again refuse responsibility over controlling my past, present, and future. I will walk and create my own path."
"What if you forget…?"
"Even if my memories disintegrate, one by one, I will never forget these feelings I have."
"Why is that?"
"Because…love is not an emotion, it is an act of will. Once you truly, really, love someone, you can never stop."
Don't stop Allen…
"I won't…I won't for my sake."
Yeah, keep telling yourself that…
Allen's too tired to shrug away Road who clings to him with an almost motherly embrace. She's a ghost, they both are. Half the time he doesn't really know if she's even there. He lets her cling to him because he is one of the few things he recognizes throughout all ages.
"Why do you care?"
"About myself?" He dully noted just how little she did.
"Humanity." She smiled in a way that reminded him of what a Mother would give to a bad child who had to learn lessons all on his own.
"I don't know."
"Liar." She softly laughed, not mad, even though she could be. Anger and compassion seemed to be all the same to her.
Allen shrugs, not really caring since he knows she's much more honest than he is - most people are.
"Honestly, if loving humanity was just that, it would be impossible for me."
She hums, knowingly, a soft sound that could tickle his ears if he thought she was even real.
"I don't really respect or like people, easily, anyway."
"To like, and to love, are very separate things." Road replies, as simple as the fact was.
"Loving them, is so much easier than liking or even respecting them…." War, oblivion, greed, selfishness, fear…Lord, why could he relate and understand it too well, it almost disturbed him, if he could be any different.
"Perhaps you wonder why you keep going, if not for them, than for yourself."
Had his efforts been for himself? Allen thought curiously upon that. The loop of sacrifice and reward was twisted as it was pure. Maybe distinguishing between selfish ness and selfless ness was just too much for humans to comprehend; the thought alone relieved him.
Oh well, honestly he didn't think why it could be such an issue if the end results were good.
"I'll tell you something I've never told another." If only because she was his only memory that bothered to be a living figment for his eyes; he missed talking freely, Tim, or Cross or Mana were no where he could see.
She didn't look very interested, he wasn't struggling, but she relented, because he could be family, and sometimes interesting.
"I can do these things, love humanity, like this, because I value myself more."
It was a very simple, Mana had taught him that, he wasn't exactly sure how or why, or even if he had realized it until long after Mana had left him. But Allen knew the foundations at least had started from there.
"Happiness, sadness, people can't give you eternity. I learned through people I can not depend on them, like that, because they hurt me as much as I hurt them. I must value my own beliefs first, the type of person I want to be. When I am sad, it will be because I am allowing myself to be sad, when I am happy, it will be because I am choosing to be happy. If I allowed myself to depend on the opinions and emotions of people, then I wouldn't know where the direction my feet could take me."
He expected a reply, one of any kind, but he found silence was the only passive observer nearby.
He knew he would not depend on people, or the figments of his imagination, but he allowed a small ache of loneliness to pass through his heart.
It didn't make him feel better, but it did make him feel stronger.
When Allen was asked, "What it felt like to be more than human?" He would smile and respond he did not know what they were implying.
(Even though he probably did.)
"Walker," Link was strict as he was humbled. Humbled in that he saw demons with souls faces and targets with eyes wide open instead of the closed, lifeless, ones he always saw in the humans who had washed away the blood of Christ in favor of lustful items that would burn away long before their lives would. "Don't answer; your answers are too much for them."
"What about you?" Allen was mean enough to ask, but not cruel enough to force an answer, they were alone after all.
Link would not sigh, even though Allen could tell he wanted to. The Inspector actually gave a dare to stare straight into Allen's eyes, something Allen was unable to see anyone else besides Leverirre do, and say "My silence of the matter is answer enough." And left it at that, because Link is good at leaving things hanging in ways others are not without being oblivious or heartless about it.
Allen would shrug, not caring, not minding, and all the while thinking how nice Link's baking was (though Allen wished Link would cook more).
When they were not asked for daily meetings of check ups, fast missions with other Crows or Thirds (only the ones who hadn't been selected by God's Innocence were safe with a Noah), then they were walking in an almost trance like state of daily work; work that had not so much to do with paper or pen, but self and mind for Allen Walker, and Link as well.
Link and Allen shared a room again. Oddly enough for the Inspector he would find the Noah was clinging to him enough to force his way into the same bed, holding Link close, but not enough to embrace. Mumbling over faces and pasts memories he couldn't distinguish from fact or hope less, wonderful, enticing, fiction.
Nights were spent with Link prodding Allen into wake full ness as the teen of reality of asking "why here, why here?" to which Link would answer with a powerful spell to bind his wrists tighter "The present Walker, you have are bound to the present."
Not that Allen did not know that, he may have forgotten many things, but never his vows to the present; his questions were founded by the people he was sure were real despite never seeing them.
"There is a girl… who cries when she smiles…There is a boy… with black hair who never smiles or cries for anyone but himself… there is an older guy… two guys actually, with glasses, both are very different from each other but share things in common…"
"People, Walker." Link answers truthfully, "People who won't let you go…." the older man never says their names even if he knew what names the people belonged to. If Allen never asked, Link would never tell.
"I know them… and I forget them at the same time. It's like I can see there faces through kaleidoscope that shows pictures that either are too blurry or too clear. When they talk I either hear nothing or whispers of words that are too much at once."
"Is it painful?"
"…No. I don't regret it. It's something that is only mine. Not his. It's never his…"
"Walker," and Link tightened the binds even more, though not with an unkind expression. "Don't be so mesmerized by the past that you bind it to your present. Your future is tied to more than just yourself, Walker"
Link says his name a lot, Walker, Allen likes finds that amusing on some level he wonders he should be worried about.
"Why do you remember your name, Mana's, Timcanpy's, and Cross Marian's and yet no one else's, is it because that is what you value most?" Link asked once.
"…I've thought about it, it's probably because those are names that are significant to both Uncle and I…"
"Why do you call the 14th Uncle now?"
"…It pisses him off."
"The 14th?"
"No… Tim."
Tim bit Allen hard for that.
Allen thought it was worth it. It wasn't everyday you got one over Timcanpy.
"Significant… It's something precious to the both of you…" Link left off softly, ignoring the sulking golem and the careless bleeding Noah.
Link never did express his thoughts about Allen's past again. The Inspector slept with his back to Allen as the young Innocent bound Noah soaked his tears into his shirt for the rest of the nights.
Link wondered if Allen cried for himself, then dashed those thoughts away. Walker became incapable of crying for himself when he decided to live only for others.
Link was the only one who played the oblivious card since by now such a turn was impossible for the white ash haired man.
This was the second dream, but it was a different dream.
Time was stopped. It was never cold, never hot, never windy, and never warm.
There was a man, who cried whenever he smiled. He had the power to burn the world and help call the earth into submission when it came to giving back what it stole.
The man had too much, but never enough to give. In the end he tried to sort out the lies, but only could see the truth. He needed to get away but couldn't find the answer.
Maybe he didn't want it.
When it came time for the man to shine, it was almost against his will.
But the man had a strong will and a stronger desire.
He knew the truth, but he would not stand by it.
Allen watched the man struggle and grew with power, gaining fame and hatred as he made life unbearable for the world.
All the while the man's face spilled with laughter as much as tears.
Allen didn't understand why the man cried. But he did know the man wanted to save what he could by destroying what he knew.
Days and years passed. All the while the man face stayed hidden from Allen even when he could see.
Who are you? Allen would ask but never received a reply. Why do you have to do this to yourself? He yelled with agitation he couldn't convey to the man. What do you wish to accomplish by this? But the man never told him.
When Allen decided enough was enough, he was mad enough he could do anything or know what was happening; he reached out and touched the man's face.
The face shifted and changed so fast Allen caught his breath before the memory faded and he awoke with nothing to believe in.
Allen's presence was a subtle one, when one didn't pay attention. He glided without making a step, whispered meanings into his words few were smart enough catch, and he gave everyone whatever they wanted to see without compromising anything from himself.
Honestly he couldn't bring himself to care for the why's people held regarding him, but all the same he still paid attention. He promised himself he would not go back to oblivion as a sanctuary. For the sanctuary he sought before has been revealed to be a place thick with seductive poison, eating away at him until he found he was no longer Allen Walker.
Beast, the beast had returned!
Tool, he's a tool of the all mighty God…
Are we not judging infidel?
Allen would grimace, but would let the tides of insults from fearful hearts roll over him instead of fighting back to feel their impact.
Being the victim, under any circumstances, would be a tasteless solution – and if there is one thing Allen can't stand, its bad or bland taste.
Victims are stagnant things; they don't go anywhere because they are fearful of losing the pain that belongs to only them. Pain becomes their whole world to the point even when the pain is not alive anymore they still cling to the illusion of it. Illusion of pain that eclipses the heart that can no longer form the words anyone should hear.
Allen's had enough of such living conditions. He's never been one to play the victim whether he realizes it or not, though he does know he's been charged guilty for pretending the truth inside his heart was a lie. He can't afford to go back to acting like a brat, not when the pieces of his self of identity are on the line. He nods and accepts the things that are there and real and moves on as one who can't be bothered by the opinions of others that have nothing to do with his path.
After all where can a person go in life if they let every insult, true or not, suffocate them into still ness?
There's a faint sense of angry pity for the people who judge him without even noticing how little they even judge themselves, but he can't deal with them. Save those feelings for the people in front of him, not behind him with a knife and closed ears as well as hearts.
It's a hard lesson to learn, dealing with himself, not the noticing of others. Because He's been bad at both things before, in certain, vital, ways but he pays attention to everything without compromising himself. Not because he has to, but because he can.
And thinking 'he can' rather than 'he has to' is a much more content, powerful way to think.
And Allen Walker likes power as much as he likes to be in control of himself.
Something Allen prides himself on when the day comes where the echoes of screams vibrate through the air like radio waves buzzing like bees and Allen, with the resolve of heaven, knows it's time to break the shackles that bind him to this part of humanity.
He cuts through the attacks of akuma in a unknown frenzy thinking - something bad, something bad, too late- when he stumbles upon the bloody carcass that Tim, who is still always faster, is hovering over.
Allen stands still, somehow the chaos all around them blurs and hushes, then walks over so deathly that any akuma or even noah nearby would dare to give him a pause.
"Save…. him." The words quietly settled into Allen's veins and the carcass whose name still feels like stale water on his mind finally goes cold.
Allen had not been given the chance to say goodbye, but he carried the blonde's body with delicate ease until he could find the flames that would devour the flesh until it was no more.
He felt uneasy leaving any sign of the young man behind.
He heard more screams.
Allen did not pause - he can only pause for the dead that still linger - and runs with only his instincts online with claw sweeping and slashing until he happens upon a sight that recalls a thump in his heart.
He leaps, corners, and finally blows the pitiful creature and without warning grabs his rescued target, dragging the older man along.
"W-Walker! What-"The older man pants with adrenaline lacing his voice before forcing himself to gain composure despite the gaping hole in his side.
The man certainly knew how to take control; one certainly had to give him that much credit.
"You are my Boss, more or less, so it should be mandatory. But really, it was for the sake of a friend I did what I could." Allen stated rather casually, ignoring the world of human perfection and sin as it crumbled in front of the man who helped mold it with regrets as thin as liquid wine.
Oddly enough he can be respected for that, disliked, but respected.
Leveirre was nudged along by the insistent – not – exorcist (Allen had yet to wrap his mind around that fact he was actually considered an exorcist anymore. Mostly because he thought it was the most idiotic thing he had ever been told).
(The second being he wasn't a savior- or wait - was that the first?)
(Bah, curse these memory problems. If there was any way to actually meet face to face Allen would punch the 14th's lights out so hard he wouldn't know where or how to screw in a new light bulb).
The halls were crumbling dangerously; it was no good staying in one place, especially since there was no Ark exit posts nearby. Allen had to grit his teeth and get the two of them away as best as he could.
Dang it, he could feel the pain of humanity all around him like electricity causing static reactions against the back of his neck and it was making him sick for reasons he could even completely fathom.
And the older man, Allen hadn't noticed the extent of the wound. He needed a Doctor, dang it. He couldn't do anything but this right now and he had to focus on what was in front of him and what was in front of him was a wounded man who was holding himself up a lot better than most could or would.
The building offered little safety with all the mayhem and destruction, oddly enough this made Allen feel more comfortable than scared.
Leveirre, having enough of the pushing, took hold of Allen by the shoulder and guided them down a path Allen would not have taken due to the way the ceiling crumbled and fell in patchy blocks. (Death by ceiling was not a dignified way to go…. And one people could actually picture happening to the unlucky exorcist if it were to anyone.) Not too long though it became apparent just how little chance of Leveirre's guiding them to safety in a quick and easy fashion would happen.
Allen nudged (and quite easily ignored the intake of breath and sharp glare he received) and easily got Leveirre to sag his weight against him.
They managed to get pass by only sheer luck as quick reflexes were absent. After not so long Allen had managed to find a door he thought he should know, but didn't. Now that getting away from the danger of falling rock and akuma were put behind them for the moment, Allen felt a switch turning his entire attention to the wounded elder. Allen leaned the Inspector against the wall as he awkwardly tried to put the, panting and pale, man into a comfortable position on the floor.
Hold on, keep holding on… He didn't dare say it out loud, but the chants all the same kept beating like drums louder all the same like echoes across the halls. I was asked to protect… By who, he had already forgotten. The face was there, but the image that made up of who was being blurred.
Leveirre turned to Allen with a measuring look, one Allen wasn't sure he was returning himself. His mind felt suddenly numb, like it was slowly being forced to pass through thick gel and resisting all the way despite knowing it was inevitable.
Timcanpy was resting on Allen's shoulder, silent and giving the presence of a griffin statue guarding a duty it was made for.
"Your eyes…. are ones I could never fully trust. The way they move as if passing one life to another, all without your acknowledgement….. By now… I know what your true motives, or what you want me to think what your motives are, and such ideologies will be a knife that will cut through the heart in the worst imaginable way." The man's breathing sounded hoarser. "I kept you, even knowing the risk you were. Because I thought it would be foolish to waste your potential, even if your own selfishness ruined me. I have always refused to give in to sentiments that would ruin any chance of striking blows, that was how I have carried all who served me this far."
Allen refused to say perhaps Leveirre was being wise, because obviously the foolish were the only ones who could judge themselves in an honest light.
If that was humanity's current definition of the two words anyway.
"I believe," Allen stated peering so intently into the older man's eyes he couldn't see anything else. Not the wound that he couldn't stop, why couldn't he stop it. "I will and have caused much pain by my own beliefs."
Keep talking…
"But," he continued leading them into the world that was void of everything and anything, and the world only had room for the two humans who were more alone than the loneliest of Gods still walking the Earth. "These beliefs are mine, I've lost everything before and they were still here within my heart. They are as permanent as my life. I want to protect them as they have protected me and anyone else that have inspired them to keep living inside of me."
"So…" Allen couldn't remember the man's name, much less barely his history with him – he was a boss, right? "I will turn my feeling into a dagger, but I will only live to cut down what tries to stop what I love."
"Love and tragedy…" Leveirre kept up without missing a beat as if to make up for all the missing blood. Allen had to lean closer to hear the whispers at this point"Are the same things that birth the Akuma." Somehow it felt the air exhaled from the Inspector's breath was the only air Allen was offered to breathe. "Are you sure such love you feel will not possible birth a tragedy worse than the monstrosities that attempt to engulf the world with their selfish desires? After all…. if one clings to love too strongly than their will be no room for another to be produced and grow."
The doors shake.
No one paid any mind to it.
"You," The Inspector pushes. "Walker, are a selfish being."
"You," Allen does not back down. "Are not selfish enough."
Leveirre raises a brow at that, or would have if he had not given a shudder and closed his eyes.
Allen kept talking, hoping the man could and would still hear him.
"I wish you were a selfish man, maybe people wouldn't have progressed as fast technology wise against the Earl, but at least humanity wouldn't have diminished as fast."
"Fool…" The rest was unsaid, but Allen knew a hundred times over what he would have said. Leveirre coughed, grimaced before he carried on in a different direction with his words. "There will be plenty of chances for the next generation to have humanity, so long as they are able to be born, than sacrifices should be made." The Inspector is calm, cold, and confident despite the losses. He had to be in order to get this far.
"No, I don't want this generation to have to wait, I want it know, I want this generation to have what we hopefully want the next generation to keep." Allen's words are hurried while his voice is also cold, but also full of yearning.
"….What… do you plan to do?" The man is tired, pale, and weak looking. It's actually dissatisfying seeing the man so weak looking after everything.
"Confront the Earl. Save the akuma. Take back humanity's world." And Allen's eyes must have giving off sparks because even Leveirre is taken aback as he cracks his eyes open slightly.
I don't want to have to sacrifice anything of humanity for humanity.
The door opens and Allen is shown a room that lingers with familiarity. Did he open them?
"You are my - our - last human weapon."
Oh wait, Allen didn't open them, he made them.
"Go, I give you a command."
Allen gets up and took a step forward.
"Be as a knife to divide the world of these vile creatures and take down the one you chase after so much."
Allen lifts his hand to call forth a power that is his and not his but is all the same in the end.
"Destroy what tempts you so."
It takes Allen a second to realize it was not the Inspector, but he himself who said those words.
"I- what about you?" He asked. The thought slipped passed the yearning and nervous hunger for the command.
"I'll sentence you to death if you disobey me now." The blood was pooling and Allen almost looked away in thought. But then turned back and flashed a smile that was mirrored by Timcanpy and left for the white Ark was a sight for sore eyes.
The man would live, somehow he knew it.
Allen exhaled as Leveirre took a breath.
He was in the Ark. But it was different now. Dark and full of white snow, the buildings were crumbled in a way that caused Allen to shake his head in confused memory.
You're here?
"Yeah…" Allen didn't bother to look, he wouldn't find anyone.
I was worried…
"About me…? Don't be, I'm never upset about fighting."
That's what I like best about you; so useful.
"It's only fair." Tools and friends, when worked with correctly, are not too different.
The mirror boy laughs and a shimmer of silver fish swim around Allen's eyes. The mirror boy sounds like Innocence personified. It makes Allen's lust for his mirrors presence even more astounding when mirror boy's darkness greets his eyes to provide coolness.
Does his mirror want to be pleased? Well, okay! Allen lives to please because he's too afraid to know what it's like to live for him self.
The dark void he was wrapped around in dissipated into the light as he confronted the truth.
He walked and walked until he found the man of the hour, clapping like a critic upon his arrival.
What was said was a blur, twin swords were birthed and both leapt at each other as if to give into an eternal embrace – then eyes locked for a passage of time and metallic energy clashed with one another with a sound that ricocheted across the end of time.
I know you
"You don't know me! You only know what you think you can see!" Allen answered the Earl with the added bonus of a slash to the heart.
Blood spewed from the mouth, but Allen was the one who clutched his chest in pain.
The snow fell and even despite the darkness the world inside the Ark seemed so bright that the flakes appeared to be stars.
What's happening? The weary thought came about as he saw the Earl's skin break away like a cocoon around a moth.
When Allen saw the Earl, he saw a human.
Oh… Allen sighed, I get it now…
The dreams of a man who has learned a truth he couldn't accept and so fought till he lost and gained and lost.
That man was a true savior who destroyed.
While Allen was destroyer who saved.
In the end, the line between could be thee same.
"I hated you," Allen licked his dry lips. His arms felt heavy. "But I grew tired of you ruling over me like that. Ever since the first time I saw you, I've always been chasing you. Tell me; tell me the truth you believe in."
The Earl told, maybe because he was looking at Allen and briefly saw another.
"I saw a truth, a truth that told me something I could not be. Because of that and the way things were, I decided to confront it and destroy it before the world suffered more."
Allen tight lipped, allowed the Earl to continue as he remembered his dreams.
"The world was dying, would die, these humans are cursed, we all are. I would do with all the power I could to save what I wanted and so I held on to my power and have held it for this long. Waiting and waiting for the Innocence and Dark Matter to come to an end."
Allen was silent; the Earl's words were so soothing he felt his eyes almost close.
The Earl did not say it all, but he didn't need to. Allen saw it and now he grasped it.
"Now I see you for what you really are."
"What is that?" The Earl is on his knees, yet there isn't a lick of hatred radiating from his body, just fear and resentment for what was never his.
"Human…a man who can not turn a blind eye. We're actually a lot alike in that way…" Both never did completely learn to turn a blind eye to what was in front of them.
Earl straightens his back as if that would help lock Allen's face into his own, his eyes are gone, leaving holes of darkness that Allen thought was appropriate, but disappointing. At the very moment the wish of the Earl seeing everything fallen and broken around him was burning hatefully inside Allen. Another feeling burned inside him as well, one that desired the Earl to see reality and embrace it for his own sake. But he ignored it, such feelings were useless now, he had to focus one what could be done.
"You... are not similar…to him….at all…" Earl struggled that one piece of sentence out. It must still be hard to relate Allen and his Brother together.
"No, honestly as much as I've come to understand him, I still don't think I can relate, at least not the present me, not like with you."
And a light dawns on Allen as he finally pieces the puzzle together.
"I need to tell you something Earl, My own truth, I've just realized it.
It comes to Allen, the Earl his is mentor, nearly everything he has learned has been directly or in directly because of the man before him. The Earl was a man, and now, for the first time, standing before his rival, Allen realized so was he now.
So he told, he told the Earl everything he believed in.
Cross…When did I become so big I passed by everyone?
"Will you destroy the millennium I have denoted?"
"No."
"Oh?" The Earl sung along. Or tried to, it seemed his temper was still active, trying to annoy Allen despite the malice being calmer, like a wave deciding how tall it wants to rise against the world.
"I never want to destroy another's time, not like the 14th- Uncle tried to do with mine. I will not take away your time."
"What will you do?"
"I can't forget or forgive all that you have done, but letting your existence disappear now would be too much. It can't end like this. I will give you… something eternal. Something eternal that does not belong in this world."
The Earl is quiet, a deadly calm overtakes both of them, The Earl's bloody lips are cracked and bleeding and it's amazing he can talk as well as he can,
"I have lived for so long, I never planned on dying. You shouldn't handle the end. You can't believe in them."
"Who knows, life is a cycle that seems to only get worse while only a few get better. But Earl, you need to go, make room for the next generation. Don't let fear stop you. I will not let your fear, as understandable it is, to use people any more."
"Thank you Earl… Thank you for making me strong enough to come this far; it's possible you were the one who became my everything when all was lost. You can go now; I'm here to stay until it's over."
"…Say my name…"
Allen did, whispering the forbidden name like he was drinking the Duke's blood to the very last drop as the ex-ruler of the world crossed from one world to the next.
"I will… never let you become just a faded memory Duke… maybe for this world…but not for me…. Never me… "
Allen's tired now, his lower body feels numb, there is a sighing that he is sure is not his and he realizes he is on the ground long before his mind goes blank.
Somehow, I think I'm only halfway there…
It was a profound experience, waking up without being able to get up.
Then Allen's vision cleared enough to make out the blur of red above him.
"Hey there," A small waving action was made. "Sleepy head. You've been having a long dream haven't you?"
Allen had grunted, and annoyed, pushed the face away from his. Squinting, his eyes caught sight of red hair and narrowed his eyes in confused recognition.
"You… Are somewhat familiar." He couldn't remember the name, but the feeling was there.
The young man perked a little though his face was passively calm. "Hmm, I've done roles here and there around ya." The man didn't seem to care if Allen knew more or not.
"How did you get in here? Why are you here?" What Allen was feeling for the other at the moment wasn't unpleasant, but he wasn't exactly happy over where they were meeting.
"Inside the Ark, in the special piano room? Well to answer your first question, let's just say you have a habit of attracting informative red heads. Number two, well turns out you are still part of my job description."
Allen sighed, yeah; well he guessed he wouldn't be too alone at least.
After all, he could not leave this place, not with all the power he held.
I have to be different, stick to what I believe in.
"I don't need a pair of legs to keep moving forward…" He said out loud and the red head averted his eye at that.
I will not make the same mistake, learn from history don't use it as an excuse. The Earl tried and failed. I will not be arrogant enough to believe I can do better.
Tim, from his snuggled position between his Master's shoulder and neck, nodded like a sage in his own way.
"I need to be away from people…" He murmured to Tim. Tim did not nuzzle Allen or agree with his normally expressive visual presentations. The golem just silently met his Master's gaze with his own as though every word was law.
People…physical worlds…if he didn't get away…then he would surely- surely not make the same mistakes as the Earl had.
So Allen did not leave the Ark, he stayed in his room. Allen had all the power of the Earl and more and knew what he had to do.
"Hey," Allen was talking to the red head now, "With my Innocence I'm going to create a dark future. A future so dark, I hope only hope can shine enough for them."
"…Call me Bookman." He says it without his words stumbling, though Allen does wonder if he means it as a title or a name as the unsaid words, if you want, couldn't help but ring in his ears.
Allen had a lot to do. He had to call all the akuma and set them free, before he could do what he had to.
He looked down at his legs and couldn't help the grimaced and sigh.
This would take awhile.
But he wasn't on a time limit; he had a long enough time on his hands now.
"What should I call you?" The Bookman asked, only slightly resistant, though it wasn't forced, it did seem let out on purpose. Allen was – or could be – more than human now that he was heir to the Duke.
"Allen, just Allen… always Allen…." Yeah, that's right; even now he would be Allen, a name to separate him from another. Separate him from things he had but could not use as he worked to do what he must.
In the mean time, he could still dream.
Allen had dreams like this. Dreams where he would peak into another's, not that he chose who he saw, it was just something that happened.
Right now he was seeing…Kanda…yeah Kanda. A man now whom he had ties to earlier from another life. A life that was so distant and frail and yet stubborn in it's resolve to not be completely forgotten.
When one first met Kanda Yu, one could think Kanda was like ice, too much slick ness he thought he would fall right past or too cold the touch would burn and gnaw away any heat he would try to offer. Now – when one doesn't let their temper say or think such whiplash emotions – one can know Kanda is more like the snow. Cold and subtle, not always loud, despite having the potential to be, but carried the potential to bite without flinching. It was soft though, not in a warm, fluffy – here Allen would chortle - way, just a natural feeling that would sweep across you like a storm that would leave you wondering if you were spared or gifted.
"Get a cup to drool in Beansprout."
He's a bastard though, all in all, Allen decided.
Allen hoped he had bugged Kanda a lot back before the whole Noah memory screw up mess happened.
Actually that was less important than how much he could bug the older man know.
Kanda was still looking for someone. Sometimes Allen entered his dreams, not intentionally always, but sometimes fragments would drift like a tide back into his thoughts and would connect them to the Asian if both were asleep at the same time.
After a few insults, Allen would ask "Are you still killing Akuma?"
Kanda would "Tch" but confirm whenever saw one. He was still an exorcist in first nature while human in another. It was habit to kill whenever he should.
'You really should contact Bookman since he does have Intel that may help'. But Allen would say this knowing it would bother Kanda more, and so quit after awhile. The older man may be dislikable, but Allen didn't wish him harm; as long as Kanda had something to look for, than the idiot would keep moving and living.
He was too stupid to do anything else.
Running, running, chasing, waiting – Kanda was always the one searching for his person, never did he think she would do the same for him. He would never give up.
Kanda's mind was probably filled with nothing but pissed-drama crazy ness full of stubborn energy to never let go of a dream until it becomes a reality.
(….Too bad Allen's capable of being a hypocrite when he doesn't realize it.)
"You'll find her."
Think the worst thing while speaking only of the best was Walker creed.
Kanda would glare, calculating if Allen was being reassuring, something he didn't need, but didn't say anymore. Kanda was older now, unlike Allen who seemed frozen.
Unlike Allen's body – full of scars and loss of flesh – Kanda's body is more or less flawless.
No scars anywhere could be found and any that dared sneak their way there were dismissed by the flesh faster than the mind would allow.
No, the only scars that Kanda carried were the ones in his heart, eyes, and perhaps dreams.
Some days Allen could wonder which one of them had it worse while everyday he finds he already knows the answer but decides his best gift would be his most silent, absent, one to Kanda whether it was appreciated (Allen was sure it wasn't – Kanda didn't really appreciate the present too much) or not.
"Why do you never visit her in person?" Kanda's casual question shocked more than Allen's heart as it struck with precise aim.
Her, it's always her when someone says her to Allen. He can't remember her name, well no, he can, but it was like drinking water. It was nourishing, but there was no flavor to remember or describe it by. If someone asked, Allen would not be able to say anything in regards to the meaning of what that name, whatever it was, held.
"…I'm afraid if I visit her, I would never leave her…." Just an instinct, an instinct that told him there were more important things, like to be more than human. What being more than human meant, Allen didn't know, nor did he think it was pleasant.
But he had his reasons, his reasons that were his, his and forever his alone.
"I want to see her…" He drew out carefully, talking more to himself than to the Japanese man who suddenly seemed genuinely more interested in sharpening a blade of a knife than hearing what the British male had to say. "But there are things; more important that needs to be done first…"
Kanda understood, his silence was more gratifying than Allen would ever (actually never) admit. "You'll never stop being a fool."
That made Allen stop, yes; he was the white clown playing the role of the auguste.
"Yes, I am. But so are you." He bit the words out, more from instinctive habit than anything.
(Neither would admit it, but both were living for reasons both beyond and for themselves.)
Then he would wake up and wonder if that man would ever remember his dreams if he ever were stop and think he had any, just like him.
"Keep dreaming… Bastard…"
Don't give me more reason to dislike you if you ever stop.
Time was long as it was short. Allen didn't have much to do, what with the loss of being able to walk, what with what happened to his legs.
Dreaming and dreaming of people he had met and couldn't remember entirely.
But he didn't just dream. He called and called to all the souls whom he could hear and feel as if they were an extension of his being.
Bookman was there, not as someone supportive, but someone watchful – watchful and imprinting the passage of this time in history deep within his mind. Occasionally Allen would see the red head rub his one covered eye which caused Allen to gain an impression of an old beast from ancient lore. Allen called him a draconta - which meant to watch in some fashion - more than once for this and the red head took it with annoyed grace of a professional; being his eyes flickered in a tempted light before he smoothed the annoyance down by either showing a no nonsense frown or a feral grin.
Time didn't really matter to Allen inside the Ark. He would control the Ark, Tim was always by his side, and Bookman came and left as he pleased. Allen never asked more about how he was able to come inside the Ark uninvited (though he still needed invitation for the special room) the way he did. He had a deep feeling he didn't want to know. Or maybe he was just lonely for a human to be right there.
It would be a lie to say Allen never felt temptation to get away from this life and abandon his call. But that would be too risky, he couldn't risk it. If he left the Ark and embraced the world the way he was, then no doubt he would truly die. He always wanted power, always asked for it for one reason or another, he got what he deserved. He wouldn't take it back. So he dreamed, not to escape his reality, but to confirm it.
For he was human, just human and Allen needed to always confront the reasons for why he did what he did whether or not they made any sense.
He remembers one dream, a dream where he needed to resolve something. He needed to make sure she was okay, always okay.
Allen blinked as though there was dust in his eyes before responding "Lenalee…I've learned something. It's not God's fault. It's only ours."
She didn't answer.
Allen went on as if she did.
"I already decided my every decision would not be depended on just one person. Living in this world is not about blaming others for life's unfair ness. I am the only one who can choose my actions. Whether it's war, God, a thief in the night… How I control and act to what is happening and not let it control me is my choice and mine alone. I have decided I will never again allow others to take away the knowledge that I can control my own life. I will never blame my actions or how I act on my feelings on others. I will only ever credit myself because that is the responsibility I was born with."
Allen couldn't see her face; he only knew she wasn't crying.
"Lenalee, is the reason you hated God so much… because you never wanted to blame someone else?"
"…You know what…I wasn't really sure back then….it just seemed so easy…The one easy thing besides loving Brother…and sometimes even then…"
He touched her shoulder, lightly, without too much pressure yet.
She may have stiffened a bit, but does not shrug his hand off.
"…I wanted to hate the whole world…Hate God for making it….for not destroying it again like he did for Noah…"
"It sounds funny when you say it like that…considering our previous profession." The way Allen says it is almost impossible to take it as a joke so she does not get irritated or put off.
"Yeah…" She actually favored him with a small quirk of the corner of her lips. "Hey…My world was made up of people…I hated…I did…for what they forced my Brother and me into…just to be together….for there own purposes. I hated the world of the Order for doing what it did for us…I think…I couldn't stop the feeling, I had to direct it somewhere. God for creating people instead of people themselves just seemed to be for the best. I couldn't see God but I could see people. As much as people did against me, I could at least see them and touch them however brief they could be. I never saw God; I hated the one who was supposed to be on my side but never came to me. I hated a lot of things about that…"
Allen makes his grip tighter, but he does not hold her. Now is not the time to encourage her to surrender. She is a soldier in more ways than he was.
"It was my decision to re evaluate my destiny, I made that choice myself. I hated God even then, but I chose to serve him, because even I wanted to believe…I could be with my Brother after the very end."
"Hey Allen." Her eyes look clearer without a hint of tears, "What is eternity like?"
Allen smiles as like the sun suddenly melting away the darkness clouding during the day.
"Not as long as I once thought."
Things shifted and he was somewhere else. In another dream, another time.
Allen placed his hand on the cold, bumpy, stone. Lenalee pushed a handkerchief against the side of his face. He didn't understand why even when she pulled back to reveal the salt soaked cloth before offering it to him, to which he refused, so she placed back into her pocket.
"We loved her… she loved you, very much. Even if she didn't always know how to show it always, but she tried, so my Brother says. He misses talking to her."
He doesn't say anything, can't say anything.
"When she died, my Brother, he was calm, like he was always. But when we were alone, he broke down. It was the first time I've ever seen him so… it was unlike him. It was scary seeing him so…."
"Weak…?"
"Human…" She responds quickly. "It's not like I never thought of him as one. But, he was so strong, so strong that I took relief in the times where he pretended to act hopeless because it made me feel good to see that he needed me and made me look like I was the strong one to everyone else, just to hide the fact that in truth it was the opposite."
It's quiet; Allen doesn't touch her just yet.
"So when I saw him like that, I almost didn't know what to do. I just held him, held him for so long, his tears spilling onto me was the same as the ocean. He couldn't protect Hevlaska, so I tried to protect him."
"How is he?"
"Fine, fine… He has a lot of hobbies; he's doing work at a college. We still live together."
"What about you?"
She kicks the ground a little. "Jerry's working on building a restaurant here, asked me to join him; I could work under him as an apprentice, and learn how to make pastries…"
"You've always liked cooking."
"Hm, unlike Brother I've never had many hobbies, besides training, cooking in the kitchen were really the only other thing I did in my free time. It's probably the only other thing I know how to do besides be a soldier."
"Is it difficult?"
"…Yeah," She sounds like she was considering lying until she met his eyes. "I…sometimes I lay awake at night and think… Is this real? I dream about the days of war and fighting and dying and I feel more awake in there than I do when I'm walking among people, thinking I shouldn't be so soft."
Lenalee hates human crowds, all exorcists do, Allen can't count the number of times he's forgotten the sheer magnitude of their paranoia because he only had to face it once.
"What will you do?"
"I don't know, I would like to take Jerry's offer, but it would mean moving away from Brother. I don't know if I'm, we're, ready to be a part again."
He nods, he can somewhat understand their attachment even if he never had siblings.
"What are you afraid of?"
"Distance. Distance from myself, from what made me, me."
"Its jus growing up, we all do it. Just because we move away from each other doesn't mean we are abandoning anyone. We're all just trying to find our own way of life. If you don't want to leave, than you don't have to, but even if you both get a little lonely, you won't ever stop caring about wanting to see the other."
"It's hard." She does not pity herself; she's just stating a fact. Her soft features become relaxed as if hearing those words were what set her free.
"My Brother said the same thing to me. The day the Order was disbanded and we all went our own way. The greatest victory for humanity, it was the saddest day of my life."
The feelings of loss and grief bubbled inside Allen, not knowing why he still accepted it instead of ignoring or lying to it.
"Love is something that grows; it's the only thing that always has room for more. You may be apart, from our friends or you're Brother, but your feelings will never go away. You'll probably meet new people and experiences to cherish just like before. You were the one who help taught me that."
"…I don't remember ever saying that to you though, are you sure?" She asks hesitantly, knowing his memory wasn't what it used to be.
"Hmm, you sure? I could have sworn I felt that I learned it from you. Oh well." He shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave without a word.
"Allen! Honestly you used to be such a gentleman." Her voice sounded angry, but there was no malice, either way he gave her a serious face.
"Goodbye until next time."
"Yeah, don't forget."
"Oh, hey-"
He wondered if she ever missed the way he, probably, used to say her name.
"Thanks."
He wondered a lot of things about her, mostly revolving around himself.
"Thanks for letting my walk in your dreams."
But in his eyes, she always looked so happy, as happy as he could imagine her.
"Because it's-"
The vision ends and Allen is awake on the couch, he puts his arm across his face and cracks his stiff shoulders.
He woke up, thinking. Good, oh good she's doing okay….I can still see her alright.
Then he would forgot and move on to thoughts of full wakefulness.
The golem sleepily like a cat yawned itself awake from the nest in its Master's lap.
It was coming to an end, this very long beginning that had been going for over a millennium.
Allen gripped the edge of the couch and pushed forward, only having his arms to support his upper body from falling.
"I want to play."
Allen felt the pulsing of power shifting and moving like something alive swimming against the flow of blood in his veins. It wasn't a bad feeling at all. All the power in the world to could be influence by him. In fact if he had any temptations to use it he would. But because he was in such a distant world, one with lone trees and snow that always fell but never covered the ground. Instead Allen would lie on the ground and try to catch Tim, who purposelessly hovered just slightly over head, with his hands. It was a game they had played during Allen's first time as Cross's pupil with Tim pestering Allen to abandon his still shell shocked eyes and least pretend to have a good time.
Sometimes, when the red head – Allen never called him Bookman – was there he would watch Allen. As if he were printing the footsteps Allen took along with the flapping of Tim's wings in some journal to read back for later or put away on the shelf to gather dust.
Things like hunger and desires for anything and everything besides what he was doing was distant as gone. Allen always operated on what was in front of him and right now what was in front of him was Tim's teasing nips while inside him the warm feeling of the akuma's souls attached to him caressed him pleasurably.
The exorcists were still doing there job. Killing them one by one, all Allen needed to do was direct the akuma to them. All of them.
Things were coming to an end now. He felt it.
He fell into another dream, one different from the rest.
He was confused at first.
His first reaction was to be that of a child. But he wasn't a child, not anymore. He had put away childish things. So he shook it of and stood tall because he wanted the one who had finally come to see him for who he was now….and be proud, hopefully -pleasebeproud.
The man had a passive stance, not a weak one to be sure. The man carried himself as though anything would simply slip pass instead of impale him. It was like even if the man never won a fight it was still impossible for him to lose.
"I know you…enough to know that I love you, more than anyone. Mana." For Allen, saying those words were the easiest and most liberating ones he ever could say.
Mana gave a soft smile, "Well, I'm not surprised. You've finally allowed me to see the full person you've become instead of regressing back into the little boy whom you remember me seeing. I knew you would get there someday, I'm glad you kept going…so that you could see it for yourself."
"Mana!" And Allen couldn't hold it back. He held Mana tightly and cried out his name into his shoulder. Allen never had hugged Mana, Mana had always hugged him though and it had burned Allen as he grew that not once had he carried out his thoughts. He never knew why, Mana probably didn't need hugs, and Allen never really cared to give them unless to comfort others, but it some irrational part of him thought it was always wrong he never had.
"Allen, I came to ask you some thing." Here Allen lifted his gaze to watch Mana's. He noticed the clown makeup that usually covered him was melting away.
Mana's actions were not hurried. The man was strange like that, one moment he could be the perfect picture of slow but sure gestures while the next he suddenly could become a torrent of unpredictable energy that it even seemed Mana didn't know how to contain it all the time.
"Come on Allen. Let's walk" Mana did not take his hand, he just clapped Allen's shoulder with firm familiarity as both took off side by side on an endless road with a night so impossibly black while the full moon was so white it was incredible it never gave off any light.
They walked and talked, so much Allen didn't think either of them would be able to know where to begin if asked to repeat what subjects they covered.
It was like a dream; actually it was a dream so he could accept anything.
Suddenly the moon became larger, or it appeared larger, as if it held the power to take anything that did not already belong to it.
"Allen." Mana said his name a lot. It was comforting. "What was it that made you decided to do what you did." Mana's voice was soft, but strong. There was no accusation in his neutral tone. The way Mana asked his questions was the same as asking why the calm wind blew the way it did.
Allen looked down a little; they were sitting on the tall grass they had been stomping down on in order to make a path to walk on. It made him marvel a little how strong and whole his legs were in dreams.
"Mana… I decided I was ordinary. I'm ordinary." He repeated like a charm. "The Innocence granted me divine power and the power of the Duke gave me power to change the world. I could have changed the world, made it into anything without any one even realizing it was by my hand."
"But I am not so special that I can't do things differently than others before me. The Earl tried to save this world from falling into corruption due to human sins by locking the Dark Matter and Innocence into an endless battle so humanity would not destroy themselves before the Earl had created a third race of man to replace us. The 14th, Uncle, tried to stop the Earl, thinking he could do better his own way. But in the end he couldn't and the Earl wouldn't. "
Allen spread his arms out to the absent sky above as he leaned back on the ground. "I had to do what neither of them couldn't; I had to take power and than let it go."
"That was hard for you, I know you." Mana casually replied without any hint of pity or pride. "Living life can be the same as performing as a juggler. You have to know when and where to grab and let go of each ball or less your entire act will be ruined and you'll have to start over. People may think they can ignore the basics and do something different that will not work and then repeat or and over thinking they can do better. But in reality the basics and principles that already work are the ones that will keep the balls moving."
Mana turned to Allen, his mask was nearly halfway off. "Juggling was the hardest thing you had to learn. I'm glad for you, that even when you've lost the memory of juggling, you never forgot the basics."
Allen nodded, paying almost closer to the moon than Mana's face. "Everyone should have the right to learn the basics. That's what I decided I wanted for everyone."
"What about you now?" Mana's voice carried a wistful smile. "Now that you have done what you've set out to do and are almost ready to fully let go of your given power, what plans for yourself?"
Allen had laid his arms down upon the ground, absentmindedly picking at the grass and suddenly filled with thought of wondering if Tim would be okay.
"First it was for you, than the akuma, than my friends, than the akuma again, and than for both akuma and humanity. I've never really learned how to live for myself. I've always lived for others. I liked that because…"
Mana placed a hand on Allen's forehead, "I know, my boy, I know why only too well you felt how you did. I lived for my Brother, than I lived for you. But now I'm alive for myself. No it's alright you'll understand soon enough"
The world began to ripple, and then moon was leering in all its fresh snow white magnificence.
Mana stood, and with a tip of his hat began to stomp down more grass as he began to make a new path.
"Mana!"
When the man turned to face Allen, Allen leaned forward and quickly took to his feet. Sighed, closed his eyes for one thought, than said in the most serious of voice Mana or anyone had ever heard him speak in.
"I still dislike clowns. Terribly."
Mana paused and gave a laugh. With that his clownish paint melted completely away to reveal a face Allen had not seen in so long.
Keep walking…
The world became dark and then shifted into brightness.
Allen was on the couch, Tim was by his side. Shuddering but still emitting a calm effect as though the golem had been prepared for this day.
"Do you think you choose the right path?"
The red head was by his side writing in a book with no cover. His one shamrock eye completely studying the fast moving hand covered in ink as it guiding the words he wanted to print down on the paper.
"All I know is is that I want everyone to be able to walk their own path and not just one someone else set before them. I don't want to take another's time away from them. People are the only ones who can control what their destiny will be. It's no other human's responsibility… I really want that… it would be really nice if everyone could think that way."
"So I don't know, I don't know if what I choose was good or evil for everyone, but, I believe it was the right thing… for humanity to make its own mistakes and fame."
The red head stopped his writing. "It's possible, that humanity will die someday. Looking at it throughout all history it seems humanity's faults just keep getting worse and worse as it continues to grow in knowledge. At least with the Earl's direction a form of humanity would still linger one while the faulty one would die. But now, who will they blame when there isn't a villain to see and embody all their problems?" His voice sounded mechanical, like he had been practicing. "You still glad you fought?"
"War is horrible… I am sad for the pain it caused… but I'm happy. Happy I was able to fight, to participate. I fought for what I believed in, found comrades, and experienced acceptance as much as loss. I took pride in being a soldier; it's up there with being Mana's companion as one of the things I treasure most about myself."
"Soldier…"
"Soldier… I was a soldier, I will never think of that as a negative thing. I was always willing to fight for what I believed in no matter what came my way. No matter how dark things became, I always wanted to find a reason to believe in myself to be able to carry on."
"Character is what you are in the dark, so they say." The redhead smiled and pointed to him self as if acknowledging every conversation directed at another would still be about him.
"Who says?"
"People…some people."
Allen didn't question the red head on why the phrase seem to make him sit up straighter, as if a scene was being reflected back into him and making him experience the meaning behind his words all over again.
We were all soldiers, everyone.
"Hey…Soldiers need their rest too, don't they?" The red head tells Allen through barely parted lips, it's almost like he's mumbling.
"Yeah… they never stop fighting, never stop having a reason, but life can become a little less exciting. But that's okay; I don't think I'll mind not having to do something for awhile."
Allen looks to the red head and notices something off about him. His body looks worn out, even if he doesn't look tired. Wasn't his hair brighter? How long had it been since Allen had come here?
"Hey, you need your rest." The red head's voice was a factual observation.
Allen didn't reply, he just held onto Tim's body, which suddenly seemed more fragile than before, and closed his eyes.
The power pulsing through his body came to a slowing halt.
He felt something release.
Felt the cries of akuma finally dim for good.
Felt a sigh in the back of his mind.
Felt a feeling of happiness.
Felt an exhale leave his body.
Felt this life no more.
The Bookman closed his book with a resounding thud.
He gently lifted himself up, his bones weren't as quick as they used to be even by bookman standards, and walked off knowing full well that the golem would know what it wanted to do.
He too had a lot to do, things to reflect on, and much to categorize concerning his records.
But first, he had to settle matters about a bet once made a long time ago.
Lenalee had lived; she had lived a long time. It was a good life. She decided.
She was by a grave, caressing it as though she were holding someone's hand.
Time seemed to have stopped for a second, but it moved, even without her. She was fine. She did not mind having to move on so the ones belonging to a new future could learn to live.
She felt a hand take hers; it was warm and smelled of cinnamon and sweat. She smiled and looked at the other, he was sixteen and she was seventeen again. The grave stone in front of them disappeared like a mirage and replaced by lotuses of her favorite color.
Took a while, didn't it?
Here now, so it's okay.
Neither one of them were good at leaving the other for good.
Now they didn't have to.
Notes*
Thank you all for following this story and watching these characters live (sort of) through the crap I've flung at them.
Now I'm off to black out in relief that I've finally finished this blasted story.