Disclaimer: I don't own D Gray Man. And I'm really nervous about this, since this is my first fic in this verse, so…

Allen Walker was a very hard person to catch.

Chaoji knew it was probably due to him traveling with that swine Marian Cross, but still, his ability to remain hidden was astonishing. The fourteenth Noah was like a ghost; there would be words of a shadow that had appeared, a small white-haired child who had the appearance of an angel and the presence of the devil, but whenever Chaoji acted on these rumors, the mysterious figure had disappeared, already moved on to the next town. Allen was easier to find whenever Chaoji had help; for some reason, Lavi, Lenalee, and Kanda all seemed to have an innate sense of where the little guy was going to be, and why. Not that they like helping him –no, usually whenever they joined him it was because of chance. None of the trio liked Chaoji very much…Lavi didn't like his stubborn narrow-mindedness (his ability to see the world in shades of gray), Lenalee hated him because of his opinion of Allen (whenever he so much as breathed 'Allen' and 'traitor' in the same sentence, she would fix him with a heated glare and would then cry in her room for a long time), and Kanda, well…Kanda didn't really like anyone. So that was a given.

With the trio's help, though, Chaoji had actually met Allen Walker, face to face. Their confrontations were short and hurried; if Allen could not escape, he would beg him to reconsider, saying that he did not want to hurt Chaoji, and the exorcist, in return, would coldly respond, 'It was traitors like you who killed Anita-sama. I won't be satisfied until every one of you is dead!'

Allen—no, the fourteenth—would slowly close his eyes, almost regretfully, before he would turn and run away. The little coward. And then, as usual, Chaoji would chase after him, screaming curses while Kanda or Lavi or Lenalee would just stand there.

It was a little strange that the fourteenth wouldn't want to hurt him, but Chaoji had no doubt that this was part of his scheming plan; perhaps Allen needed him alive for something? Whatever it was, Chaoji was not going to let himself be used by that bastard.

Strangely enough, lately Allen had become easier to find. It was still difficult, but Chaoji was picking up clues on his own these days, without the help of Kanda, Lenalee, or Lavi. The phantom was no longer just a ghost; it was a reality. He was getting closer every day; for some reason, Allen was getting slower and sloppier. He's probably getting cocky, Chaoji smirked. After all, he's evaded me for so long. He'll regret this mistake!

So Chaoji pursued him. He chased him across Europe, rushing through Germany, sending him fleeing through Poland, and finally catching up to him in Russia.

There was a lot of snow. Thick, deep snow, which chilled Chaoji to the bone as he trudged through it. Allen's tracks were almost invisible in the blizzard, and they were disappearing quickly, but they seemed to lead to an indistinct shape in the distance. As he grew closer, he saw it appeared to be a one-story house—more a shack than a house, actually. Now what could Allen want here? He thought, and stared up at the house/shack thing. But then he shivered, and realized that he'd have to go in there anyway. The blizzard was too strong; he'd die, no doubt, if he didn't take shelter. Our final confrontation, he smirked.

He didn't see anything as he entered the room; it was too dark. But he noticed that there was a light bulb on the ceiling, and started fumbling for the switch—but froze when he heard a strange noise.

A wet, wracking, cough.

What?

Chaoji found the light switch, and flicked it on.

The first thing he noted was that this shack had obviously been used before. It was well insulated, and wasn't actually that cold. There was only a thin layer of dust; probably just a month old—and honestly, someone had had to install that light bulb. There was also a big bookshelf in the corner, though it was mostly devoid of books.

The second thing he noticed was Timcampy buzzing around in the air; Cross's little golden golemn was twitching nervously, and had let out a tiny keening noise when the lights had turned on. Now he was growling and shrieking angrily, but still hadn't come near Chaoji.

The third thing he noticed was the shivering body lying on the cot in the corner.

"Finally caught you, Noah."

Allen let out another loud cough, which sounded deep and painful, and racked his frail, thin body dangerously. His face was red with fever, eyes glazed over. But still, he smiled; a small, beautiful smile painted with blood. "Chaoji? So you have."

I've been chasing this? Chaoji lowered his fists slightly in surprise. It can't be. Why's he so sick?

"What…?"

"I've been sick for a while, Chaoji. As much as I'd like to say you were getting better at tracking—" His words were cut off by another cough, much deeper and louder; he didn't stop for several minutes. When he did, he lay back and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

"You're lying. You're lying! I'll kill you! How dare you lie to me!" Chaoji invocated his innocence, fists held up in preparation to kill Allen.

"No!" Allen gasped, nearly sitting up. This effort took more effort than he'd intended; he coughed loudly again, and fell back. "Let me die. I only have hours. At the most." He broke off again, breath rattling ominously in his chest. "Just let me die on my own time."

"You're just recuperating." Chaoji snarled, and began to advance. "As soon as those hours pass, you're going to come at me with your full strength. I won't be fooled. Not this time."

He looked devastated. No doubt he was angry Chaoji had called him out on his bluff. "No," He whispered, "Please. I beg of you. Just let me die. Do you think I could fake this?" Allen coughed again, body curling in on itself, voice no more than a whisper. "I don't want to be to be murdered, Chaoji. I just want to die. Please. Give me two hours. If I'm not dead by then, you can kill me. But please," He couldn't say anymore; his desperate pleas faded into heavy coughs and the shaking rattle of Allen's bones. Timcampy let out a pathetic whimper and buried himself into Allen's overheated, sweaty hair.

Chaoji slowly lowered his hands, astonished. You couldn't just fake that sort of sickness, no matter how devious you were.

But…he didn't know. Should he honor the request of a dying man, or should he ruthlessly kill a dying Noah?

The answer came to Chaoji almost instantly. This teen had once been a soldier right alongside him; Allen had saved his life, once upon a time, and in the end he hadn't really hurt any of his friends. So he supposed he could grant Allen's last request, even though his mind was telling him it was a very bad idea.

"Alright," Chaoji growled finally, and sat down in the chair near the desk. "I'm not doing this because I like you, or respect you, by the way."

Allen murmured something intelligible, and tightened his grip on Timcampy, who'd somehow found his way into the sick boy's hands. And though Chaoji hadn't quite heard him, he could've sworn he'd said, "Thank you."

And so began the longest two hours of Chaoji's existence.

The first thirty minutes were spent in absolute silence, the only noise Allen's heavy breathing and deep, throaty coughing. And even though he was several feet away, Chaoji could tell that Allen was steadily getting worse; he could almost feel the fever in the air, and the smell of sick was unavoidable.

"How did you get so sick?" The question popped out, unexpected.

"The Innocence and the Noah are warring for dominance." He spoke, coldly and matter-of-factly, about the problem. "My body is rejecting both of them."

Chaoji stared. That made more sense; the Innocence in Allen's arm was trying to eject the Noah, and the Noah was trying to kill the Innocence. But why doesn't he just chop the Innocence off? Chaoji wondered, though he didn't dare voice his question.

After about 45 minutes, Allen finally spoke, voice hoarse and soft from coughing. "Talk. Please, just say something."

He didn't know why he did. Perhaps because Allen sounded so pathetic. "I hate you, Noah." Hey, Allen never said he had to say something nice.

At first, Allen didn't say anything. Then, he choked out a laugh, and said, "Thank you."

Anger reared its head in his chest. "Don't say thank you! I just insulted you! You should be furious! Stop—" He broke off, grinding his teeth together furiously.

"But I asked you to say something," Allen said in his whispery-soft voice. "And besides, I understand."

"No you don't!" Chaoji rose abruptly to his feet, not quite understanding why he was so angry. "You never did! You're just a fucking Noah! You don't understand anything! Stop pretending like you do!" He really wanted to hit Allen—he wanted to hit this pathetic, dying thing that had once been his proud, strong enemy.

"I was a soldier too, Chaoji." Allen murmured. "Long before you ever were. You believe I'm the enemy. My kind killed Anita. My kind killed your crew. In your head, it's my fault. It's always my fault. And I know it is, but not like that. If I'd been there—if I'd been there to help you guys…" His breath hitched, and he coughed again, but he still continued. "But not like that. I didn't want anyone to die."

Chaoji stared, feeling the anger drain right out of him. He's…He sat down. How did he know? He's just a Noah, he could never understand. But here was the living proof, sitting here, dying. Dying right in front of me. He didn't quite know how to react.

So instead, he remained silent.

Another fifteen minutes past. Allen was delirious with fever.

"I'm sorry…Lenalee, I never told you. I'm so sorry. I love you."

Chaoji felt his chest tighten. She'll never know. But he didn't feel sympathy, because Noah's couldn't feel like regular humans. But what if he is a human? For some reason, he didn't want to know. I don't want to know that whatever I've been fighting is a lie. "Shut up, idiot."

"Kanda…" Oh shit. "I don't really hate you. I respect you so much. You're so…I'm so jealous. You get to this war, and you're trusted by everyone. I hate it." His voice was slowly rising in pitch, eyes glazed with a dreamy daze. "I hate that no one trusts me. They all hate me. I'm fighting the war, except I'm on the wrong side."

"Stop it." Chaoji felt fear rising in his chest. "Just shut up. Stop it." I don't want to know that this monster I've been chasing is really human.

"I died for them. They punched a hole in my heart. And even when they hate me and tell me I'm not one of them, I still fight for them. I never say anything against them. But…"

Dimly, Chaoji realized Allen was sobbing. Timcampy was sitting quietly next to him, nuzzling his sweaty hair. But he realized, realized exactly what was going on. Someone who he'd believed was completely evil, someone who he'd hunted like a ruthless predator across the continent was actually an ally. An ally he and everyone else had been pushing away. You've seen him fight, He thought numbly. You've seen his loyalty to the Innocence. Why did you doubt him? But this could still be a trap…this could be an elaborate ruse to get him sympathetic to the Noah!

Excuses, Chaoji. You're looking to justify your actions. You don't like the thought of hunting an innocent man—

Teen.

—across the continent.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Kanda."

Chaoji started, and stared at Allen.

"Run, run from everyone. Hide, smile, pretend nothing's happening. Pretend you don't hear them talk about you. Smile, even though you want to cry. No, no, I don't care that you've got me under armed guard. I might be even more scared than you about this, but what do you care? I'm just another fallen soldier." He sounded hysterical. "I want to go home. I want…I want…" Timcampy let out a loud keen. Allen's sobs got louder. Chaoji almost didn't catch it; the rest of the sentence was sobbed breathlessly. "I want Mana."

"Talk. Please, just say something."

He wouldn't honor the demand of a dying Noah. He would honor the request of a desperate, dying teen.

"Who's Mana?" Chaoji asked, leaning in. He would talk. For Allen.

"My arm."

He named his Innocence?

"When I was little, I lived in an orphanage." Allen was being unusually clear; the last fifteen minutes he'd been speaking with a dazed, feverish, erratic quality. Now he sounded sad, nostalgic, and much too lonely. "The woman who ran it was a Catholic nun. She hated me. They used to try and beat the devil out of me. Out of my arm. But one day, he came." His eyes were so distant, much too old for his age. "He took me from the orphanage, and put me in the circus. He came back. He took me with him, and didn't care at all about what my arm looked like. Mana was a second father to me. But…"

Chaoji sat, enraptured in Allen's lonely childhood; he'd never really wondered what Allen's life was like; he was a Noah, therefore an enemy, and nothing else mattered. Now he was regretting it.

"Then I learned about Neah. Maybe he never loved me. Maybe he just loved the image of Neah in me. I don't know. I don't care. To me, he always cared." Allen fell silent, and only seconds later he began coughing again. Whatever bit of strength and health he'd gathered to get the story out, it now vanished. Not much later Allen became delirious again.

An hour and thirty minutes. Allen was in very, very bad shape. Now Chaoji knew that what Allen had said was true; the teen was dying, quickly. He had only seconds before he passed unconscious. And Chaoji was going to sit here and let him think that he was dying with an enemy, not a single friend at his bedside.

Chaoji couldn't let that happen.

He slowly got up from the chair, and stretched his sore muscles; he hadn't moved from the chair since the beginning of those two long hours. Slowly Chaoji crossed the short distance between them, cringing at his haggard appearance. Now that he could see Allen better, he noticed how pale the boy was, and that a ring of fresh and dried blood surrounded his mouth. He had no more strength left to cough.

Slowly, Chaoji reached out and grabbed Allen's pale, clammy hand, as gently as he could. One of Allen's feverish eyes opened ever so slightly.

"Listen, I'm…" Chaoji stared, nibbling his lip. "I'm sorry."

The eye widened almost imperceptibly in surprise.

"I…hunted you. Like an animal. And you didn't deserve it. I hunted…" He swallowed, hard. "I hunted an innocent. I know, now, why you didn't get rid of your Innocence. It's because you didn't want to give in to the Noah, isn't it? And here I was, believing you to be the enemy. We all thought you were the enemy. I don't know if you can ever forgive us. And now it's too late." That was a bit harder than I expected, Chaoji thought, and closed his eyes. It was only now he realized how harsh he'd been, how cruel. There were no excuses. He didn't even deserve Allen's forgiveness.

Allen chuckled.

It was soft, breathy, and more like a dry cough than a declaration of humor, but it was there. Chaoji's head snapped up. Perhaps he truly had been duped?

Only for his breath to hitch in shock when he noticed the tears streaming down Allen's face.

"It's okay." He breathed softly, eye ever so slowly closing. "I forgive you."

Thirty minutes later, Allen Walker breathed his last breath.

(Line)

"…I forgive you."

Chaoji shut his eyes as the recording ended, the rest of the room silent in shock, except for Lenalee, who was sobbing loudly. He slowly reached up and plucked Timcampy from the air, fixing the rest of the room with a harsh glare. "Allen Walker was a hero, and a good man. He wasn't even a man; he was a teen, a mere child. He…"

He couldn't even finish that sentence. Chaoji gathered up his composure.

"Allen was a better man than me, without even trying. I am ashamed of myself. You should be too. I hope you know that a child, a little guy who'd been fighting so long and so hard for your approval, just died, when becoming a Noah could've saved his life."

And with that, he left the room.

I'd love to hate Chaoji, I really would. But I can't. Because he's a soldier, and Allen is the enemy; he's just doing his job. I actually kind of admire him for doing his job so damn well.

But that doesn't mean I don't hate how much he hates Allen. I think he's a jerk. I dislike him strongly, and think he's kinda dumb. I think he needs a serious personality transplant. Really.

Ugh, finished this at 10:00, and my brain shuts down on me at about 9:30, so the end is probably really crappy. But I don't really care, as long as I get this out. If any of my info is wrong, tell me. It would be embarrassing to have something like that up for a long time.

IceEckos12