A/N: A couple flashbacks in this one and speculation on what happens between 201 and 202.

Warnings: Spoiler-heavy. Link angst. Mild violence. Link obsessing over Allen in a non-romantic way. IDK. A shower scene? *shot* I'm functioning on weird sleep this days, sorry. But nothing that would go over a PG-13. Minor Link/Tevak, I suppose. And me pushing Link to his limits. Or, I'm trying. /sob.

Part II: Be Your Own Worst Enemy

After he had dumped Allen into the hands of the nurses and gotten his own injuries treated, he had locked himself in the room he shared with the Exorcist…up to this point, that is. For the longest time, he sat on his bed, head in his hands. There was a chill in his room, and one that didn't come from the actual cold.

They had all gone in that instant. Tokusa mutated beyond recognition, Madarao unconscious, Tevak snatched away (his fingers scrabbling empty air), and Koushi and Kiredori confirmed as dead—one by Exorcist Lenalee Li, and the other by General Sokaro Winters. And the Thirds were going to be pawns who would eventually have to be killed if they needed to be redeemed. There was no way of getting them back, unless Walker gave them information as to where Kanda Yuu and Alma Karma went. Or the foolishly heroic route could be attempted to get them back—only to kill them out of pity. Either way, they would not be surviving.

How could it have been prevented? Either if he had come sooner, or maybe later.

But that wasn't the root of it all, was it?

It was him. He had followed the order to retrieve a fragment from the Akuma Egg, months ago, and then handed it over to his superior obediently. It was the final thing to make them Third Exorcists.

How many people knew that, he wondered, dropping one hand down to tug at the bandage on his arm. Seeing how Leverrier was nowhere near the egg, and how he had disappeared on and off from scene—they might be able to guess. Or maybe that was simply the guilt that was speaking to him; he couldn't really tell anymore.

But, he was also upset with Allen. For letting the Fourteenth appear like that. He didn't know all details, but he had a good idea—Allen had lost control of the Noah, and something had happened, Exorcist Kanda Yuu disappeared, along with someone called Alma Karma, and everything had gone to hell at that point. Because of Allen.

Just what could you have done to have prevented it, Walker? He wanted to ask. And just what do you have to say for yourself.

Link finally yanked the band from his hair, roughly dragging his fingers through the tangles as he got up to gather what things he needed for a shower. Not that showering was going to improve his mood, but—he didn't want to stare anymore at the blood on him. Blood that was his, Tevak's, and…Walker's.

Running his tongue gingerly over his bruised lip, he gave a brief glance at the mirror. Bruises on his arm, scratches…well, it wasn't as bad as his last encounter with Akuma. But he was somewhat startled by the exhaustion he was there. Was he truly so overwrought over the situation?

The shower room contained the usual amount of people; he ignored them as he stuffed his things in a drawer and started looking for an empty stall. The hushed conversations of others reached his ear, unbidden and unwanted.

"Did you hear that Allen Walker is in the custody of Central?"

"It must have been the Fourteenth…"

"But it's Allen…maybe that inspector who follows him said something."

"The Vatican's watchdog, eh?"

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"And Bookman and his apprentice have disappeared."

"Also Kanda…not that we miss him, but it's all so mysterious…"

He closed the stall door on the talking and turned the water to the highest temperature he could stand. Thank goodness for proper showers with good pressurised water; it took away some of the tight knots in his shoulders and other muscles.

It was hard to close his eyes, though. Every time he tried, he was forced to run scenes through his mind.

…Allen, looking wrong…

…Tevak, disappearing…

He could only shower as fast as he could before he shut the water off and dried off, roughly rubbing his hair with a towel. If he thought too hard about it, he could still see Allen's face in his mind as he apologised—

Link swept his hair into a loose ponytail, gritting his teeth. Lords, how was he going to get any sleep tonight with his thoughts like these? He retrieved his things and walked out of the place, intending to head for his room. A Crow member stopped him in the just outside.

"The Head Inspector is calling a meeting a week from today," the Crow told him. "In between that, he wants to get answers from Allen Walker as to the location of Yuu Kanda and Alma Karma. You're to hand in a report tomorrow morning at ten."

"Tell him I can't promise answers, at this rate," he tersely replied.

"But—"

"Allen Walker can be extremely uncooperative when he wants to be. I suggest if he wants answers, he wait longer." But no, Leverrier was not going to wait longer, was he?

"…am I supposed to tell him that, sir?"

He snapped. "Tell him whatever you want—I'm doing my job, yes? I can only do so much." Almost snarling out the last part, he strode past the Crow and slammed the door on him. That was the only good thing about being a personal assistant—the authority. Link pressed his back against the door, thunking his head hard against the wood.

Back to sitting on the bed, staring at nothing. He couldn't even make his thoughts quiet long enough for him to write a proper report. Out of agitation, he started running his fingers through his hair, tugging.

'Why is your hair longer than mine, it's not fair!'

'I'm not the one who got it burnt off.'

'Well, I'm going to burn yours off so they're the same length.'

'Don't you dare, do that, Tevak!'

He snagged on a tangle and jerked, feeling his scalp sting when golden-coloured strands fell onto his palm. Tevak's hair was close to the shade of his, but just a bit paler. Softer, too…

'Your braid is crooked.'

'No, it isn't.'

'Not if you look at from the front, but in the back, it's quite crooked.' Hands tugged at his braid and loosened it. 'Here.'

'I didn't give you permission to touch my hair—' A pinch on his neck silenced him.

'I need help with my hair, but all the others are away.' He glanced over at her unruly, tumbling curls.

'I won't tell if you won't.'

'…fine.' Tug. 'Link, you and hair—I don't understand.'

"I don't, either," he muttered, before realising he was talking to himself. But…

'Walker, comb your hair. And you should get it cut.'

'Link, you needn't be so fussy. I'll get it cut in time.'

'Don't make me do it for you.'

Grey eyes widened. 'You'd cut my hair? I'd be ever so grateful for that, Link.'

Never again would he be able to have stupid, mundane conversations. No more arguing about stupid things, either. No more nicknames…

Ah, wonderful how it all suddenly hit him. He gritted his teeth, telling himself he was simply tired and not in his right mind. Closed his mind against the influx of emotions that, if he thought on, would threaten to spill over. But as he flicked the lights off and yanked the covers over himself, he wondered if he was actually in his right mind now, and not before.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Once his report had been submitted (after a sleepless night and shredding far too much paper), he made his way to area he knew Allen was kept. Various people from the Science Department had approached him and asked after Allen, but he only replied he couldn't say.

But he could feel their resentment in their words, and their gazes bored into his back as he walked away. And they had every right to—he was, after all, the one who stopped Allen. Yes, him. The one first assigned to watch the Exorcist they all had their hopes pinned upon. Everyone looked him and treated him like the watchdog he was.

As it was, his mood wasn't improved at all as he went down various stairs until he reached Allen. Waited for the door to unlock. And then stalked in.

Link moved past Timcampi—still huge—and glanced at Allen. The Exorcist didn't even acknowledge him with a glance.

"Walker."

No answer. No movement.

"Allen Walker, I know you're conscious. It won't do any good ignoring me."

Allen finally raised his head, but he kept his gaze blank. Not giving anything away was he?

He folded his arms and stared back.

"…"

"…"

"…how long are you going to do that?" The boy finally asked.

"As longs as you want to take in telling us his location."

Grey eyes looked away at that.

More silence. He noticed the food on the table. "Are you starving yourself?"

"No," Allen shook his head. "There might be truth serum in it…"

Unlikely, Link knew. They hadn't even gone that far. "There isn't."

"You're the one saying it."

A jibe, was that? His jaw tightened at the accusation. "You're not going to live very long with eating," he tersely said. "Your Innocence—"

"Restricted. I don't feel hungry, anyway"

"…"

Never before had their conversations been so stilted. He drew in a deep breath, trying to quell the impatience and frustration inside of him.

"Just what is going to make you talk, Walker?" He was steeling himself for the next few words he had to say. "Central could choose to be more forceful. I'm sure you know what it's capable of." Of course, it was infamous to everyone who had been acquainted long enough with the Order. "It's necessary that they know where Exorcist Kanda Yuu is, and—"

"You mean, you'd be the one to do all that."

"Who says?"

"That's your job, isn't it?"

He almost reached over to shake Allen by the shoulders, but he didn't. Instead, he stood up and glared. "You'd best think about what you're going to say. They're not going to give up on this that easily."

And with that, Link strode out. Silently fuming.

Did Allen have to be on spot with the truth? Link had every power to attain answers. But he wasn't using them right now.

Turning a corner, he almost crashed into someone, and only stiffly nodded his head before continuing his walk back to his room.

Why couldn't he? Because of the months he had known Allen?

Or something else?

No answers—he was sick of it.

Link let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. But that was all he was good for, yes? Following orders dutifully. Doing his job. Not questioning anything. That was how he was supposed act. And he was damn good at it, too.

But as he shut the door behind him, and stood in front of the mirror, he wondered if he could actually look at himself in the eye…

Not really. His gaze drifted to the ribbon and insignia on the collar of his shirt, and then to the badge on coat. Fingers reached up to touch the ribbon. Hadn't he been so proud, the day he was allowed to put it on? So very proud of his accomplishment. He didn't have to choose to be a Third Exorcist in order to achieve a goal. But now that it was achieved, he couldn't help but realise how empty it was at the moment.

Maybe he ought to just call himself sadistic that he like seeing emotions in people. How they reacted in certain situations. How…humans were so self-protective when they were on the verge of dying. Begging not to be killed, or begging for a quick death. They hardly ever went quietly. If they did, they went with absolute hate in their eyes, cursing him.

And so he was cursed so many times. An eye for an eye, a tooth or a tooth. He had long since learnt to ignore insults like that.

And how would Allen go, if it…came to that? Link knew the answer for himself already. Quietly. Resigned.

Feeling the ridiculous urge to punch something, he almost hit the mirror, but thought better of that, and punched the wall instead. Hard. His knuckles were only slightly protected from the gloves he worse, and the stinging sensation traveled up his arm as he stepped back.

He…didn't want things to come to that.

He didn't want…to kill Allen Walker.

Trying to tell himself that the verdict hadn't even been decided didn't ease his mind the least bit. Because it would be inevitable—everyone except him had seen the Fourteenth. And then Allen had defied orders….

And the Thirds were gone.

He sucked a few breaths in, loudly. That was…the source of his anger. Allen. And the Thirds. And the situation that had become like this.

Why did Allen have to be so….damn stubborn in his way of thinking? Daunting…not in a pushy way, but in a way that could make him (who was supposed to be right) feel he was in the wrong.

It wasn't as if Allen didn't know about the consequences. But he still chose to do things his way.

Why…or who…

…

Very few people could do that. Ignore things because they had the will to believe their way was better. Or that they looked at the impossible and want to make it impossible.

Link turned away from the mirror, holding his aching hand and now wanting to bang his head against something.

Instead, he sat down and began writing. Mindless, emotionless writing. Drivel for the stupid report he had to give in a few days.

If there was anything to give.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Two days of this, and there were still no answers. In fact, Allen simply looked asleep (or half-dead). And he still wasn't eating. It wasn't just with Link; others sent to question him couldn't come up with anything, either. To say that Link was frustrated would be an understatement. Either Central would order him to take drastic measures, or Allen was going to die from not eating, or the enemy would be making their move.

None of which he wanted.

"Is this what you wanted," he asked wearily; it was the last day before he had to give his report. It was straining on him and he was growing sick of all of it. "To put all of us in this position? To make yourself appear the martyr, is it? You might be one of the best Exorcists, but you're still supposed to submit to authority." Supposed to. "And you don't."

"So you're saying that most of this was my fault?" Allen raised his eyes—all right, Link was slightly gratified to see he wasn't the only one losing sleep—in askance. "I don't know how much I could prevent, if that's what you're saying."

"It's not as if I'm accusing you of everything, but yes—I think you might have been able to prevent a lot of things." That was meant to jab, and he could tell it did.

"Maybe so, but I'm…" A pause, and a nervous chuckle. "I'm not…God, or anything." And then Allen was shaking his head. "But I've done what I've done—I don't regret it."

Don't regret it.

He saw red. "Don't regret it?" You can't say that. Not when Link himself has so many things he can regret. "No, not even failing to save the Thirds?" They. Were. Gone. Gone and never coming back. Or if they did, they would have to be put down.

Link finally did seize the Exorcist by his shirt, hauling him up a bit. "Don't tell me you don't regret that."

This finally got a reaction out of Allen. "I tried!" he retorted. "It's not as if I hadn't…."

He probably could have hit Allen then and there, but…

Where had he been in all of this?

It should have been him trying to help those that, that were…

But it had been him in the beginning…he had followed orders…

Link ended up loosening his grip on Allen's shirt, and with a curt, "I'm reporting tomorrow; you best hope your luck holds," he left the place.

He had forgotten.

Memories of his time before he was Crow—they had been pushed so far back. Before Central. Before the Third's decisions.

Allen had tried. He…had done nothing. Rather, he knew what Allen had been saying…a possible chance. All he had done was hesitate during a crucial moment.

Done nothing.

… so, a lot of this anger was toward himself, huh. Link climbed the long stairs, steps loud and slow. Tired. He could no longer figure out what he wanted, where he stood, or who he was anymore. It was too hard to understand. He could only understand how much he hated himself in this instant. So much that he could taste it and he…almost wishes he and the Thirds hadn't been taken in by Central. But then…where would they be? …and…where would Allen be? Someone else would be assigned to watch. Someone not as conflicted, yes, but someone…who conformed more to the orders.

And so he clenched his fists, schooled his features back to impassiveness, and went to write the report.

TBC…

A/N: After these new DGM chapters, I wonder exactly what makes Link cry. Or what would break him, anyway. *speculates away*