Reflection

FT: A -Man fanfic. Cross-centric. It's my first doing this about him, so be gentle, okay?

It was hard to think that the Walker –Campbell, he reminded himself firmly- brothers were gone. Mana had been the kinder of the two, a gentle smile always ready to greet anybody who happened to lock eyes with him. Nea… Nea could be a nasty little bastard when he wanted to be.

When Allen appeared out of nowhere –literally, he had no idea where the kid had even sprung from- Mana seemed to be a little better.

But of course, fate seemed determined to kick him in the face.

Mana had done something seemingly unforgivable, planting the fragments of Nea's soul into Allen's head just before the younger died. Turning a true innocent –maybe, that kid seemed a little vicious- into a ticking time bomb.

He kept a careful distance, sending Timcampy to hone in on several occasions, but even then, remaining a stone's throw away. He couldn't tell when Allen started his downward spiral, only that when it was clear that Nea was too close to the surface, it was too late to save Allen.

Or maybe it wasn't.

If his fellow followers hadn't completely abandoned them to the malicious tempers of Central, and the deadly indifference of the Pope, there might be a way.

Cross contemplated his near empty wineglass.

He didn't try to hide the passing of his cigar to Timcampy; all it carried on it was his –possibly last- voice recording to Allen.

A rueful smile tugged at one side of his mouth.

Despite everything he had put Allen through, and his former pupil's utter defiance, he had become genuinely fond of him.

And for some reason, the knowledge that he might not live to see the end of this war, coupled with Allen's rapid disappearance into Nea made it all the more pertinent that he finish whatever business he had left.

He glanced out the window.

Off to the side, innocuous to the wandering eye, there was a light.

Cross smiled.

"He's growing defiant." He said aloud, more to himself than to any possible listening ears.

"I guess coming here wasn't so bad for him."

There was a knock as at the door.

For a small span of time, no longer than half a heartbeat, he thought of something said to him years ago.

'Reflection is the only time when man is truly honest with himself.'

Cross pulled back the hammer on Judgment.

"Indeed it is."

"Wake up lazy. We have lots of work to get done before the night is out."

Cross opened his eyes.

Maria stood before him. Alive and well.

"You heard me. Let's get moving."