I do not own D Gray-man nor any of its characters
obviously

He stumbled over the mud covered road, clenching his left shoulder tight, nails digging into his flesh is a vain attempt to numb the searing white-hot pain. The feathers were like knives digging into his flesh, cutting ripping and tearing, but leaving no damage except their presence.
They pulled at his bones in one direction, leaving them cracking and creaking. But he went on, kept walking, kept stumbling, breaking into a sprint when he felt bursts of adrenaline.
He knew he was getting closer - Apocryphos - the feathers grew larger, pulled harder in the opposite direction he was running, or was he running into the opposite direction of the pulling? He could feel the blood burn where his right hand was still digging into his left shoulder.

Every bit of his skin protested against the black as coal arm, his skin pulling around the still healing wound on his stomach, he felt his own blood refusing to pass it and boiling as it was forced to.
He grunted, biting back his screams, he had to run, only run, keep moving forward, don't stop.
His head hurt, there wasn't enough space or was the fourteenth in pain as well? He felt the Noah battling the innocence, using his body as the battleground. And then Apocryphos still tugging at Crown Clown with his mere presence - he was being pulled apart! Mana help me, I can't walk like this, keep walking.

Allen was panting, desperately heaving his chest for air, but every breath he took was lost in the struggle.
And there he stood, his white body cracked like crystal and glowing green with colorless feathers. Apocryphos had caught up with him, stood in front of him with an outstretched arm as he held his own as close to his body as he could. The feathered Crown Clown was yanked into a connection with Apocryphos' own, both clashing with a burst of energy, erupting a bright flash as white as the nearly-invisible beams of the winter sun.

He could feel Apocryphos tugging at his arm, or was he - he was trying to pull himself free, pulling against the merging feathers of white, trying to escape the light. He was shouting something, but somehow the light seemed to block out all sound, but he heard someone screaming.
It took him minutes before he grasped the fact it was the Noah in his head who was screeching with all his might and power, for a split second he saw the gray-skinned man clutching his head, sunken to his knees, head thrown back and eyes and mouth wide open.

His own body was numbed out, it hurt too much, he told himself, so much it was beyond what he could feel. Something brushed past his cheek, a cape, Crown Clown. His innocence. Absently, he was reminded of the tugging Apocryphos.
Is that what was going on? Was his own innocence using the other? Absorbing it's power so it could defeat the Noah inside of him? Ironical. On the other side of the beacon of light, Apocryphos was melting, fully submit to the raging battle, until there was nothing left of him save for a feint glowing small crystal. The white light grew larger, brighter, the screams in his head louder. Until his left eye activated.
A flash of red split through the white, slicing in between Innocence and Noah and then enveloping the white pillar of light, forcing the light down to earth, wrapping itself around it, around Allen, coming in closer and closer until Crown Clown's cape folded itself around it and the darkness came - and the darkness he welcomed.
Dark and silent like a dreamless sleep. He never felt the bleeding crosses.

"Mana always got me out of fights"

Allen turned his head in the darkness, eyes wide open in a feeble attempt to get used to the dark. The only thing he found was more darkness, endless, tough not quite, his hand brushed past a wall of sorts. "Crown Clown...", he realized as he pressed his hand against the fabric.
"Close your eyes, I'm right here, remember?" The fourteenth's - no, Neah's - voice was as soft, as smooth as it had been last time. Every word he said sounded like it was fit for a song though he sang none. For lack of better judgement, Allen obligated and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately, he felt his sight returning, saw a great landscape. For far beyond the horizon there were grain fields, their soft yellow color in beautiful contrast with the clear blue skies. As he gazed at his surroundings, he felt a hand lay down on shoulder. The sudden weight of it startled him, knowing it could only be owned by one.
"Don't touch me!" He swatted the hand away, turning to face the man - who turned out not to be that much taller than himself. He had failed to notice since last time they had met, he had been chained down to a chair. The memory made his mind and mouth bitter, "No chains this time?", he asked, glaring at the other.

Neah just shook his head and turned to look over the horizon as he had himself before. "It's funny isn't it?" Allen looked at the side of his head with a frown, "This is how I remember my home as a kid, grain fields stretching out as far the eye can see, a great black tree and so far away from the house." He smiled softly at the memory, "If I were to return there now I'd see how everything is smaller, the grain fields not quite so infinite, the tree not quite as black and the house not quite as far away." He turned his head to Allen, nodding at the house behind them, "This is where Mana and I grew up together before everything got taken away from us."

"What happened to him, Allen?" For a moment, the latter could only stare into the deep, sad eyes of the Noah who seemed so, so human. He opened his mouth to reply but closed it soon after, looking down at the grains that almost reached to him middle - probably another one of those things that would be smaller in real life. "He died," he spoke softly, not looking up at the dead man's brother as he did, "I turned him into an Akuma..." Neah's eyes flickered to a mad rage that instant, looking down at the white mess that was the boy's hair, and for a moment he remembered the brown strands he had stared at as the other had sacrificed himself for him and his eyes softened.

"How old were you?" Allen looked up at the man's eyes and didn't find the anger he had been expecting, not knowing he had missed it by a second, "I don't... eleven? I don't know how old I was-" He was cut off when he suddenly felt two strong arms wrapped around him.
"You loved him didn't you?" Allen looked down at the man's back and watched as his tears fell down on it, not quite noticing the ones falling on his own. He felt himself join in the embrace, pulling the man closer as he closed his eyes and let his breathing calm down. He hadn't even noticed it when it had quickened. "My innocence destroyed him", he found himself saying quietly.

"I miss him", he admitted as hugged Neah tighter. "I do too", the other said to his surprise and pulled him closer as well.

Out in the open, the white cocoon lay there, singing songs into the minds of all that pass.

Do not ask me what dark depths of my mind this came from, I just needed to put this out there so I could go back to concentrating on writing on my other fanfic.

That said, I need someone who could beta my stories .-. I'm still not English you know, I think it would be wise if someone could check read my writings to make sure everything makes sense and all that.

So, this is a one-shot but if I'm unable to contain myself it could turn into a series. Whether I do that or not, leave something in the reviews about what you think could happen to the cocoon our dear Allen is in now ;D I'm quite curious to know what others think.

This fan fic can also be found on deviantART under the same title.
Username: LordPeachy

And a little something; SONG OF THE DAY:
Captain America: The Winter Soldier OST 06: The Winter Soldier