This is my first DGM fanfic so please have mercy on me. Well anyway the story is based on what might have happened all those years ago. It's a birthday present for Allen, though it's quite depressing. Please read and review.

I do not own D. Grey Man.


Silence


Incessant rain splattered on the black cobblestones, making the ground slick with mud and water. Sounds of thunders and lightning echoed above, as if god himself was on a rampage. The cold night air pierced his drenched skin, sending unnatural chills radiating across his body, tingling his torpid senses. The dark haired man glanced up at the black heavens, obscure grey clouds loomed over him, and there was not a glimpse of clear night skies, no stars, and no moon. Everything was suffocated by the layers upon layers of tempestuous clouds, assaulting the world below as if desiring to drown it in bitter desolation.

He laughed, although he wasn't entirely sure why, the laughter which sprung from his throat sounded choked and half insane. It was a shame. He had wanted to die below a starry night sky at least, but it seemed that was too much to ask of fate.

Pain lanced through his body, sharp and distinct. The man winced, clenching his teeth as he forced his battered body to continue forward. Stumbling around like a broken puppet with its strings cut while leaving a trail of crimson dying his tracks only to be swept away by the rain. He couldn't help but question himself, why? He was no longer sure. He was no fool; there was no way, simply no way for him to escape this nightmare alive, even though at the beginning he had thought of it as nothing but one among the many more nightmares he would have to endure until he drew his last breath. It would appear that his last breath was approaching faster than expected. His luck had long since run dry, in fact, he was surprised that it lasted as long as it did.

A sudden series of coughing lead him to stop, the man dropped to his knees, sending a splash of filthy water to mix with his bloodied ragged coat. His large sword dropped with a deafening clang as it clashed with the cobblestones. Blood stifled him and he managed to retch it out with an effort. The dark substance stained his hands like oil. Curious, he rubbed his fingers together, feeling the sticky fluid cling to his skin only to be washed away by the rain. Blood had stained his hands many times, but now it was his own blood that drips from his fingertips. How ironic.

Another wave of pain penetrated through him setting his nerves on fire, along with it was as something that felt as if it was tearing him apart from the inside. So this was the consequence of betraying one's 'family'. He screamed, clawing at his chest. The worn cloth torn easy under his desperate strength, revealing skin tainted purplish black with garnet red swirls that appeared like tattoos sprawling over his chest, expanding as the swirls slithered over his scars and bruises as if a growing nest of snakes, until they should consume him completely. The man knew what was happening, he was rapidly turning into fallen one of their clan, one whom will be cursed for eternity for betraying their Noah.

Still, he wasn't particularly worried. Removing his left hand from his chest he placed it almost tenderly on his stomach, which was missing half of its flesh. Fingers came away dark, dark red with something like strands of pink tissue sliding down his palms. His body was assaulted with so much pain he had turned off most of his nerve receptors with what little power he had left, this was to save himself from spending his last moments in excoriating agony that would drive him insane. As the once most powerful among the Noah, hopefully it wasn't too much to ask to die with some dignity at least.

Slowly, ignoring the shrieks from his body the man tried to stand. He couldn't. His legs felt weak and he could barely feel them anyway. Failing that, he reached for his sword, gripping the handle, he began the tormenting process of dragging himself toward an alley corner that he had spotted to be closest to him. He didn't want to die on the middle of some street looking like a demented beggar. A dazed part of him wondered why there weren't any humans running about, even though it was the dead of night with a tempest seething outside, surely they would be curious to find a battered stranger carrying, dragging, a huge sword walking the streets. Then he suddenly realized and a slow, harsh chuckle escaped his parched, blood encrusted throat.

He couldn't understand what had brought him here. He couldn't understand why he hadn't noticed before. Perhaps the pain and digression into a fallen one affected him more than he previously thought. However, most of all, he couldn't understand what his sub-consciousness expected by bringing him here. Yet here he was, brought through by his own arc gate. The man reached for the rough brick wall in front of him, fingers digging into one of the brick's edge and hauling himself upright. With more effort than he would like to admit, he managed to turn around all the while grimacing in pain and disgust until with a sigh he leaned his back against the jagged brick wall of the alley.

He leaned his head back, watching the grey sky rolling above him, hearing the roars of thunder and screeches of lightning, feeling the freezing rain slap down at him, smelling his own blood and sweat mixed with the aroma of earth, tasting the cold night air that tasted of… Nothingness. He was so tired. So, so tired. All he ever wanted was to sleep, to sleep for an eternity. To forget everything, to blend into the oblivion of silence and void… Yet… He couldn't. He still haven't finished what he started, instead he had failed, quite terribly too. Still, what did it matter, it wasn't as if he was seeking salvation in the first place, was he? The man tried to smile but found himself unable to lift the corners of his lips. His eyes were sad and desolate.

I am sorry Mana. I am so terribly sorry for my selfishness, but it seems I can't keep my promise to you. This is the end for me. But, live on. Live for the joys, the sorrows, the pain, and the pleasures of life no matter how ephemeral they may seem… My brother.

Neah Walker closed his amber eyes as unconsciousness swept him into a dark embrace.


A young man raced through the deserted streets of the abandoned city he knew so well. He couldn't have been more than eighteen at most and was of slender build, clad in a black trench coat, now drenched into a darker shade by the rain. The young man possessed exquisite yet almost delicate features that made him prominently conspicuous, his skin was a translucent ivory, his wide eyes gleamed like melting silver, and his dark copper hair was pulled back in a ponytail by a red-stripped ribbon. As he ran he scanned his surroundings with wary meticulous glances, and although he appeared to be distraught, his movements were graceful and lithe, showing hints of a fighter.

Gasping, the man stopped to catch his breath. He had been running for quite a while, searching through every passage, street and abandoned building without wasting as much time as he absolutely needed to. He knew he was short on time, he had to find him soon or it would be too late, the consequences of his failure would not be pleasant to dwell upon. Wiping away sweat and rain from his eyes, he turned, ready to continue his search, then stopped. The man glanced back at the narrow slit of an alley, it was shadowy and the rush of rain had washed away most traces of any tracks that would otherwise have been visible but there, towards the edges of alleyway were faint traces of blood, quickly disappearing.

The young man grinned and without another moment to waste slipped into the alley way like a flicker of shadow, determined to follow the traces of spilled blood no matter where it lead him, failure or death, or perhaps both…


Neah was woken by the sound of his name and the pain that nearly crushed him the moment the doors of consciousness were drawn open. The agony itself terrified him, threatening to consume his sanity along with everything else, a snarling beast slowly tearing him apart from the inside out. His body screamed with so much hurt that he could barely focus, yet at the same time the pain had almost became intimately familiar to the point he could no longer imagine a time where he was free from its clutches.

Curses spilled forth from his cracked lips, half of which was nonsense.

In his dying moments was it simply too much to ask for that so-called-god to at least take pity on him and let him die in a peaceful sleep? Neah wondered which bastard disturbed his last moments. It was bad enough that he had to die on a stormy day without ever seeing the stars again but obviously a death that doesn't involve someone slicing him up would be too easy. So, was it the Earl who had come chasing after him shouting bloody murder? Was it exorcists? Was it akuma? Or was it the numerous of other archenemies he had managed to gather in his short lifespan? Since right now, Neah is pretty sure he's holding the notorious position of public enemy number one.

"Neah…"

A soft voice, gentle, wretched, yet determined.

The man flickered open his exhausted eyes to glance lifelessly at the one who called him back to the world he had badly wanted to leave.

"Allen…" Neah whispered, causing blood to start streaming from his mouth. Lovely.

He closed his eyes briefly; when he opened them again the younger man was crouching beside him, displaying a worried expression tainted with fear.

"Neah, you are-"

"I know. I am turning, I don't have much time."

Allen paused for a moment, staring at him with anguished silvery eyes before nodding. Neah sighed, or perhaps coughed, glad that his friend understood the situation without extensive explanation on his part. Then again, they had always been very close, second only to the bond between him and Mana.

Affectionately, Allen raised a pale hand and swept away Neah's blood soaked bangs. It hurt him too much to see his old friend like this, it tormented him even more knowing that he might had in one way or another contributed to the outcome that now faced him in a pair of diminishing amber eyes. It was part of the reason for what he was about to do next, but there was also something else, repentance and guilt for all those who suffered while he pretended to be in ignorant bliss.

Allen had tried to run, he had tried to hide, but nothing could let himself escape from himself. He despised the war, yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn't but to be swept into this hurricane of bloodshed.

There wasn't much time left.

"Neah, take my body. I will protect your memories until you awaken again."

Neah stared at him, and then gave a grimacing smile. "Sure."

Allen couldn't conceal his expression of surprise at his friend's relative easy acceptance.

Neah half wheezed and half chuckled, spraying droplets of blood Allen that slipped down his snow-white cheeks leaving trails of red. "Were you expecting me to… deny? Why did you think… I came here… Allen? You know, even given the reasons for what I've done, not just anyone could kill as I had… without a shred of remorse. Allen, I am a monster." He paused staring intensely into the copper head's eyes. "And I am not… afraid to consume anyone to satisfy my hunger."

"Even if they are your best friend?"

"Yes… Monsters don't have friends."

"Good. That's what I was counting on." Allen gave him a smile, a true smile.

Neah wasn't sure what to say. Not that he would have the strength to say any words either way. However, he was sure he didn't deserve this. He was sure that Allen doesn't deserve what he had just signed himself up for. He was sure none of them did. Yet, were they not all mad puppets manipulated at the malicious clutches of sadistic fate anyway, so what does it all matter? Had god ever been fair to those whom he so-called blessed? Or perhaps cursed would have been a better word.

" You… do have… a… idea… of what… you are offering… right?" Damn. The last of his strength was leaving fast.

"Yes. I understand." Then to prove that he really did understood, Allen held up his left hand for him to see. It was covered in black scales, and in the center of the back of his hand was a cross shape scar burning with quivering green light.

Neah's eyes widened slightly. "I… see. The ring… you… took it off."

Allen glanced away, as the droplets of rain streamed down his face it almost seemed as if he was crying.

A tinge of guilt and pity slipped through Neah's defenses, he quickly locked it away.

Slowly, the younger man grasped Neah's grey hands in his own white ones. Startling silver eyes met a pair of molten golden. Both burned with resolve.

"Are you ready?" Allen asked, his own voice trembling, if only a bit.

Neah scoffed, or tried to. "As ready… as I'll… ever be."

The young man started to chant in an ancient language that had been long forgotten, his voice soft, melodious. The chant rose and fell until it melded into a song, a melody sung by a voice resembling an angel. The notes danced with the words, spinning, spiraling in the dark night, and silencing the even reverberations of the tempest. Within that evanescent tranquility, two souls combined into one.


Then the boy fell asleep
and one or two embers in the fading ashes of the fire
flared up in the shape of a beloved face…

She sang lightly to herself as she walked down the empty street. Her polished black shoes tapping on the cobblestones in rhythm with the splashing of falling rain. Her black hair was soaked, plastering to her petite face with slick strands dripping clear droplets of water down her neck and back. She spun around in a circle twirling a small pink umbrella, half faltering, stumbling. The girl giggled quietly.

Dreaming many thousands of dreams
spreading across the land
Your silver gray eyes shine their light
like stars falling down from the night sky…

Her clothes were torn and filthy, what remained of a frilly white dress clung desperately to her small frame, it's frills dripping with blood. She stumbled into an alleyway as if she knows exactly where she's going. Her voice continued to sing; delicately, yet beneath, it was woven thick with coiling wrath.

Even though countless of years
turn so many prayers back to earth…

Mauve eyes shimmered in the dim light. The girl watched silently at the two shadowed figures crouched beside the alley. One was leaning back against the brick wall, his features obscured by shadows, while the second had his back to her, yet she could distinguish his dark coppery hair well enough. She waited, watching them, herself concealed by casted darkness. Various facades of emotions flicked across her face. Sadness. Yearning. Anger. Detestation. Betrayal… Betrayal…

I will keep praying
somehow, love for this child please
kissing the joined hands…

It was a song she loved and was all too familiar with, after all she was the one of lyric writers. Every time she heard it, peaceful calmness settled over her, it was as if she could remember everything back then. The wide prairie skies… The singular notes of a piano… Laughter ringing in the wind… It was funny really, how despite the joy and passion it had sprung from, the last time it would be sung would be in the middle of an in a forsaken, bleak city whispering unspoken regrets.

All that she had hoped for had turned into ashes slipping through her fingers.

It was too late.

The girl stepped lightly out of the shadows and walked towards the two men she once loved and had came to kill.


Allen collapsed onto the wet ground, feeling coldness seep into his bones. He was gasping, clenching his fists against the pain incising through his skull. A groan escaped his lips; already his memories were becoming distorted, intertwining madly into one with Neah's. Reality shifted and danced before his eyes, time slowed, stopped, and then sprinted beyond grasp. He closed his silver eyes, wiling himself to focus. There was no time to lose, before the rest of the spell took effect he must escape to a safe place, somewhere where neither the Noah nor the Black Order could look for him. Nothing should be more important now than keeping his promise, Neah's memories will be safeguarded no matter what happens.

The young man propelled himself into sitting position, then with some effort stood up. His entire trembled in fatigue, the spell had drained him of most of his strength, and Allen couldn't help but doubt if he could even activate his innocence in such an abject physical state. He glanced at Neah, his friend, leaning despondently against the brick wall. From the barely visible rise and fall of Neah's chest, he was still alive, but barely. A dozen more minutes at most. After that the full force of Neah's memories would erode his own and the rest of the spell would come into effect, completely erasing the existence of 'Allen' from this world.

"What… are you still… waiting for? Get going!" Neah hissed, his rough voice barely audible.

"Goodbye." Allen gave a woeful smile; there was no going back now. He was sorry to leave his friend here, but there was no way to save him either way but his memories alone.

"Go where? Surely you can't just leave poor Neah here while you run off by yourself. That's not like you at all Allen…"

They froze. That voice. Impossible.

Neah had promised him that she wouldn't be here.

He had told him that she was… Eliminated with the others…

So how… Why is she-

"A simple hello would do, or were you guys not expecting to see me quite so soon?" Mockery and bitter sarcasm were laced into her words.

Allen sighed. Slowly he turned away from Neah and towards her. Lightning flashed, illuminating the petite girl standing in the center of the alley with sharp distinctiveness. From her glistening violet eyes to the bittersweet smile stretched across her lips. She hasn't changed at all since he last saw her. Concern flickered across his features at the sight of her blood-drenched dress but diminished, as he saw no wounds on her unblemished light grey skin. Allen's face twisted beneath his mask of frozen composure as he realized she was crying, despite the droplets of rain slipping down her face, he could tell from her expression, the look within her eyes and the acerbic smile, that the girl was weeping inside.

It hurt him, but he couldn't afford to show it.

"Good evening, Road." He greeted her politely.

Road stared at him, unblinking. "It's been a long time… Allen."

"Yes… I am sorry."

"No, don't be. It was my fault for not realizing sooner." Her delicate features distorted in bitterness, "I should instead apologize for my own delusions."

Road's purple eyes traced over Allen's half shrouded figure, when her eyes landed on his left hand she stiffened.

Wrenching laughter split through the air, "How disappointing… It was sweet, while it lasted." With that the girl reached towards her right hand where a white-gold ring encircled one of her slender fingers. The ring slid off with a twist and dropped silently onto the cobblestones, instantly sullied by grime.

The young man bit his lips, when he glanced back at the girl her eyes were predatorily ocher, the previously light grey skin darkened, and her hair rose above her like suspended wisps of black smoke shifting to invisible winds.

Allen swallowed. Neah had flashed him a look beneath his dark bangs, time was running out, it was also impossible for Allen to face against even a half-awakened Noah in his current condition. He needed to get away, and fast.

"What are you here for Road?" He asked coldly.

"To kill you. And that traitor over there… Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't intend to die."

"And I don't intend to fail... Not anymore."

The two glared at each other, icy silver met flagrant gold. Feelings, words transpired but remain unspoken. Clenching his teeth, Allen invoked his innocence, bearing with the pain that pierced through him from forced activation.

Strands of glistening silver wrapped around his body, materialized out of nothingness. They formed what resembled a cloak that was as insubstantial as mist and yet as firm as diamonds when touched. A matching silver mask carved in elaborate patterns concealed his face and expression. The silver cloak whipped out behind him like half spread wings, ready to take flight. Allen flexed his left hand, which had transformed from its previous form into cutting claws with nails extended like polished stalactites.

"I am sorry… Road. Please, let me go. It doesn't have to end like this." He entreated.

The girl smiled, she twirled the pink umbrella in her right hand, and during mid swing it transformed into the twin sword of Neah's with the exception that the blade was midnight black while Neah's sword was pure white. "It already has. I should have killed you from the start." She charged, her right hand gripping the large sword.

Before he could react, Road had swung the bulky blade effortlessly, aiming for Allen's head. He dived, barely missing a beat; he sought to decapitate her by striking for her legs. The petite girl flipped forward, landing behind Allen and thrusting the sword toward his spine. By then the young man had shielded himself with his innocence, backing away he grimaced, Road smiled in response to his distress and flicked her fingers. Allen screamed as he felt the sharp tips of Road's candles piercing through his skin, although crown clown had shielded him from the worst of the attack more than a few had slipped through his defenses. As expected of Road, she knew his innocence far too well.

Ignoring the pain, Allen attacked, claws extended. Road matched him move for move, dodging and stepping aside at the last moment, as if teasing him. She whipped around, aiming a kick at his stomach. When he evaded by moving right, Allen realized too late as the blunt side of the black blade slammed against his head with more force than he thought possible emitted from her slender frame. He crashed against the brick wall creating a small crater as pieces of stone rained down on his head, blood dripped from his mouth, he wiped it away messily. This was not going the way he had hoped. A headache awaited at the back of his skull ready to hammer him. Allen knew he was in no condition to fight, with most of his power expended on casting the spell and the majority of what's left on activating it; to fight was like committing suicide.

"Why?" She asked, coming towards him. The enormous black blade engraved with a white cross dragging behind her as she approached.

"Why what?"

"Why are you not fighting seriously?"

"I am."

She stood above him, water dripping down from her hair unto his face. Allen stared up at her, and for a moment time seemed to freeze, he smiled at her.

"Idiot. I gave you plenty of chances to strike, so why didn't you?"

Allen shrugged; he was tired, weak, in pain. A small selfish part of him wanted it to end, wanted to let the rain wash him away. He wasn't sure why, maybe he wasn't perceptive enough to notice, or maybe it was something else…

"It didn't seem fair." He answered.

Road laughed softly. The girl leaned down and with a small hand caressed his face; she tenderly brushed away his hair and stared into those silvery grey eyes that she loved so much. Allen stared back at her, trying to imprint her face into his mind one last time before everything ended.

"Why did you betray me?" She whispered.

He didn't answer, she already knew why.

Road closed her eyes. He could attack her now, he could disable her, not kill her, and he could escape. Yet, he didn't. Allen wasn't sure why, remorse? Affection? What was it that made him so still at her touch, so comforted even though he knew that she was soon to kill him with those same hands?

"I love you Allen, but I also love my family. This is revenge, delivered at the request of the Millennium Earl." Road gave him a chaste kiss on his lips, it tasted of blood. Then, before hesitation could erode her thoughts, she thrust the blade into his chest.


The obsidian sword flew out of the small girl's hands and clattered onto the cobblestones, before she could move to retrieve it a hand clasped around her neck, tightening. She was roughly pushed down on the ground, her movement restrained by the person on top of her. Road flicked open her eyes; a cocky lopsided gin greeted her. Neah winked while Road fumed. She managed to aim a kick at his side, and smirked as she saw his face contort in agony before her leg too was held down.

"Get going Allen, take... my sword…" Neah hissed, not looking away from the girl impeded beneath him. Taking a deep, painful breath he began to hum a slow, steady tune. The girl's struggles subsided involuntarily as the power of the Musician came into effect over her will. She glared up, amber eyes scorching with anger. "Is this anyway to treat a lady?" Road growled.

"What lady? You're just a under developed brat."

Neah chuckled silently at the girl's affronted expression that quickly altered to killer's glint.

"Child molester." Road accused menacingly.

Allen swept a glance at them before sprinting towards Neah's sword, which had struck into a brick ledge when Neah threw it to knock away the dark twin blade from Road's hands. It was stuck halfway into the bricks, with a considerable amount of effort Allen managed to pry it out. When his left hand came into contact with the blade handle; both shimmered with an eerily pure white glow. A current of electricity coursed through his body. The young man frowned, but took the blade in his left hand anyway.

Allen watched the two figures on the ground, as if sensing his concentration Neah looked up and flashed Allen with his trademark impertinent grin. 'See you' he mouthed. Allen nodded in reply. Then without glancing back, the young man stumbled out of the alley dragging the broad white sword behind him. Traces of his shadow quickly disappeared as curtains of rain draped over his silhouette.

Road watched silently as Allen vanished into the labyrinth of streets. She carefully kept her face blank, emotionless. The next time they meet, they would no doubt be enemies. He would probably have forgotten her, and she could only wish that she'd be the same. It would hurt too much to remember. This way, the next time they meet they would be nothing but strangers. The girl giggled.

"Why are you crying?" Neah asked her gently.

"I am not you idiot, it's the rain." She sniffed. "Besides, Noahs can't cry."

"… Maybe they can… maybe Noahs cry… after all." The man let her go, he rolled over lying on the ground, listening to the rain splashing beside him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll chase after him?"

"You won't."

Road said nothing. She crawled towards Neah and looked down at him with half lidded eyes. "You are dying." She stated matter of fact.

"Took you… long enough to… notice…"

"I would like to kill you for what you've done, but there would be no point since you won't live much longer anyways." The girl smiled at him plaintively. "The Earl… Would be sad to see you like this…"

"Is... he dead?"

Road scorned, "You wish. Though he is terribly hurt, which is why I am here. Else, he would never have sent me you know."

Neah smiled up at her, a true smile. "I am glad… I… didn't want to die alone…"

"By all means you should." The girl picked up the man's head and held him in an embrace. Then she sang, her soft voice only perceptible to Neah alone.

"Tell me… Why didn't you kill me?" Road broke the song, her tone curious.

Neah glanced at her with his fading eyes. "That's… a secret." He then closed his eyes, and didn't open them again.

She held him close; despite herself her grief was overwhelming. Tears streamed down her face blending with droplets of rain. The girl continued to sing, her voice heard by no one but herself.

"You are right. Maybe Noahs do cry after all."