Disclaimer in previous chapters. Please see Author's Notes at the end.

-x-

Present

The countryside was drab, grey and damp and caught in the clutches of winter, and despite the relative warmth in the car, he pulled his coat about him more firmly.

His companion noted the motion, as he noted everything, but obviously, with none of Lavi's careless ability. Perhaps that was what differentiated Bookmen from everyone else; he knew that Bookman and Lavi watched him as closely as Howard Link, knew that they remembered every mannerism, every word they'd ever heard him say. But they managed not to make him feel like an insect or interesting piece of machinery beneath a magnifying lens.

Or maybe those were part of the orders Link had received. In which case he did it very well.

It was hard to admit, but he missed Lavi. Lavi would be sitting across from him doing something goofy and getting dirty looks from Bookman, or talking about some fantastic adventure he'd read about, or even offering a silence that wasn't so utterly empty. Lavi would slip an arm around his shoulder and whisper about the red paint on Link's forehead, or say something so entirely uncannily apropos to his thoughts that he'd wonder if they were printed on his chest and all Lavi had to do was take one look and all of Allen's thoughts would be burned into his memory forever.

It wouldn't even be hard to guess. His thoughts had been very repetitive in the last few weeks.

He was still alive. Mugen was still synchronized to him, Komui had told him that much. The Noah and the Earl had him, and Kanda was still alive.

If their Ark could take them inside the Order headquarters, than his Ark could take him into theirs.

All he had to do was know where it was.

And once again, he came to the same challenge. He had no idea how to track down the headquarters of the Noah. It would be silly to assume they all stayed together all the time, and while the Ark the Earl had had built in Edo was probably the Earl's home, he couldn't be sure it was the Noah's. Or that they would take him there to question him, or whatever it was they were doing to him.

Six weeks. They'd had him for six weeks. Tyki had had him for all of twenty minutes and he'd been as good as dead. Whatever it was they wanted with an Exorcist, surely it was finished by now.

At least he could be sure they wouldn't turn him into a Skull. He wasn't smart enough for that.

The uncharitable thought was almost enough to make him smile, and Allen Walker dragged his eyes off the window to stare at Link's boots, where a stray shoelace quivered in response to the motion of the train.

"Clown Belt!"

The ribbon of his Innocence responded, stretching for them even as he parried a blow that would have torn him in two. In another instant the Akuma was bearing his cross, but he could not spare the freed soul so much as a glance.

He wasn't going to make it.

As fast as his Innocence was, it wasn't as fast as Arystar Krory, and the level three dodged to the side, using Mugen to deflect the vampiric Exorcist. Kanda was limp in the Akuma's grasp, hand crushed to his own Innocence by the Akuma's so it would not be forced to touch something so toxic itself.

Clown Belt followed the Akuma's dodge, but there was so little distance between it and the doorway to the Ark-

Two more ribbons of his cowl extended below him, launching Allen into the air. If he couldn't get to Kanda in time, he could get inside that doorway before it closed. Akuma couldn't activate the Ark without a token from a Noah, so he'd need to be prepared for what he'd find, but there was no way Kanda could fight his way out, not with those injuries-

Abruptly the level three shrieked and hurled Kanda's Innocence, and Allen caught Mugen reflexively, only perhaps half an inch from his right eye.

Caught it with Clown Belt.

"You bastard!" it growled, digging its claws deeper into Kanda's chest, and the Exorcist jerked in its grasp. Blood came from his mouth instead of a retort, and then the Akuma was in the doorway, and Krory was there, just above it.

"Leaving so soon?" He touched down lightly on the frame, and it exploded at the contact.

Allen shielded his eyes with his claw, flying directly for it-

And found only Krory, as limp in his right arm as Kanda had been in the Akuma's. The doorway – and Kanda – were gone.

If he had been Lavi, he would remember exactly what had happened. Why the doorway had exploded when Krory touched it, what it might have meant for Kanda. If he was floating in the space between, between the Ark and the Musician's Room that he himself had seen before he woke there.

Or if everything had gone according to plan, and Kanda had arrived safely into the hands of the Noah that had orchestrated the entire thing.

Part of him firmly believed that the intention had been to lure him to the Earl's new Ark. That Kanda had been grabbed but not killed, that the level three had done everything it could to get him to follow and Krory had simply tripped the trap just a fraction too soon. But that made him feel far too self-centered; surely the Earl had plans that did not concern him. Perhaps the intent all along was simply to destroy their Innocence, and the Akuma believed it would be easier to take Kanda with than try to pry Mugen away.

Maybe the target was his general, Froi Tiedoll. Or Lenalee, who was so close to the distant Japanese Exorcist. Perhaps Kanda was just bait for the Heart.

Or maybe it had all been an accident. The Akuma had been dispatched to the same rumor of Innocence as they had, and it had seen an opportunity and gotten a lucky hit. He hadn't seen how it had gotten hold of Kanda, only the result, and he had a sinking, selfish doubt that perhaps there had been an attack he had not seen. That once again Kanda had stepped in front of a blow that had been meant for someone else.

If he were Lavi, he would know the answers to those questions. He would have seen something, remembered the vital clue that would tell him where Kanda was, how to get to him. How to save him.

But Lavi hadn't been there. Just him and Kuro-chan, who had woken several hours later with a vicious headache and no more insight into what had happened than Allen had himself. Days had stretched into weeks, and they had nothing, just the knowledge that Mugen, safe in Hevlaska's possession, still had an accommodator.

And he'd been there. He'd let it happen.

He'd considered it, asking the mirror. The mirror that hadn't spoken to him since the Ark. If he wasn't certain that Howard Link would incapacitate him on the spot he would have done it weeks ago. It was unlikely the Fourteenth could tell him exactly where the Noah were, or the Earl, seeing as he was a traitor, but there could be something he knew that would help. Allen could feel Link's eyes on him but he continued to stare aimlessly at the swaying shoelace, willing the other man to . . . need to pee, to eat, to sleep, anything but stick so close to him. He hadn't had a moment alone –

Link had been there too. He hadn't been fighting, but he'd –

Allen couldn't actually place where Link had been in the fighting. If he'd seen anything, he hadn't shared it, but how could he, he was the only one of them that had still been on the ground.

Allen picked up his head, the words finding their way off his tongue just the same. "Link?"

He already had the older boy's attention, and Link just continued to stare inquiringly at him.

"Before, when Kanda-"

The Inspector resolutely shut his eyes. "You shouldn't dwell."

His hand curled into the fabric of his pants. "I'm not dwelling, I just want to know what you saw-"

"Allen. Don't move or respond."

He almost jumped. Almost. The voice seemed to be directly in his ear, talking right over the self-important response he was getting from Link. The Inspector's eyes were still closed, and Allen clamped his mouth shut and concentrated on his earring.

"-was reported directly to Inspector Leverrier. It's been reviewed-"

"It's Komui. Listen carefully, and don't let the Inspector know."

-x-

Six Weeks Ago

Nothing worked. Bastard must have gotten a tendon, then.

He dragged his right arm closer against his body, struggling to work it under his chest. It wasn't much, but he'd be damned before he was prostrate before a Noah.

"Are you listening?"

Fingers wound deep into his hair and his head was yanked up. He clenched his teeth to keep his jaw closed, but the angle made breathing difficult and he couldn't stop a grunt of pain, nor the hisses that came after.

The Noah – he wasn't sure who, the only one in his line of sight wasn't the one that was speaking and the voice was unfamiliar – seemed to be quite close. Probably crouched beside him, easily within striking distance but his left arm was completely useless, and it was Tyki Mikk that stood in front of him, casually removing his white gloves.

"You are beaten, Exorcist. You have no Innocence." They mystery Noah had said it before but somehow the words seemed to have a little more meaning when there was less and less oxygen in his brain. "You cannot fight us. You cannot harm us. You are defeated."

The voice seemed to be waiting for confirmation, or his agreement, but the best he could do was a choked snarl. His right arm was able to support only a little of his weight, and his chest was still sluggishly bleeding. He could feel nothing at all below his waist.

The Akuma, which had inflicted more damage on him than either of the Noah, kicked his right arm out from under him. It didn't make much of a difference.

"Is that not a Buddhist prayer bracelet on your wrist, human?"

His uniform was in tatters, it was a miracle it was still there at all.

"Does that not indicate that your body is your temple? This damage is your doing." His head was yanked back further still, so that Tyki had almost completely disappeared from his line of sight, yet he was no closer to seeing the Noah beside him. "Whether you yield today or a month from today, it will happen. You can arrive at that end with your body intact, or broken. That choice is solely yours."

He growled, knowing full well it would communicate exactly what he thought of that, and Tyki tsked.

"You have no weapon. Your friends believe you dead. You have lost."

Che. As if an Exorcist without Innocence was any less an Exorcist. Or was weaponless.

"Your life is forfeit, and as such belongs to me." The mystery Noah stated it as fact. "You will address me as master, respectfully, and my family as well. You will obey me." It seemed as though he was ticking them off in his head as he went. "You will answer any question I ask with the truth. Earn my trust and I will not harm you. Anger me and I will make you wish you'd never been born."

Abruptly he was released, his nose smashing painfully into the floor, and it took his disoriented brain a moment to realize that he was being moved. Metal hands, machine hands snaked around his upper arms, effortlessly hoisting him aloft, so that his toes brushed the cold stone floors. It was still Tyki Mikk before him, and the man smiled almost kindly at him.

"Trust is to be earned. Until then, it would be unwise to give you the run of the complex without a restraint, don't you agree?" The skin of his palm split, and despite himself Kanda watched a small golem, a butterfly no larger than a monarch, emerged from inside his body. It opened its wings once, twice, then chattered with an oddly metallic chime before wrapping itself tightly in its wings.

What remained in the Noah's hand was a dark black cocoon, such as he might see on the trees in Japan in spring.

The Noah's smile became quite a bit less friendly. "These are designed to incapacitate, but not kill, should you wander a bit too far from the house." He raised his other hand, and a similar golem was produced and cocooned. "They will be painful at first, but you will eventually grow accustomed to them."

Still grinning, Tyki Mikk pushed one of the devices somewhere into his left shoulder, and Kanda's last coherent thought was to be grateful that he could not feel his legs.

-x-

There was a hurried knock on the door, and seconds later it opened, revealing a deeply bowing Akuma in its human skin.

"Master Noah! Apologies, Master Noah, but there is an emergency!"

Sheryl hid his annoyed expression with a polite smile. "Excuse me a moment," he said, smoothly rising from his chair. "Please review the plans in the meantime, I shall return shortly."

A white-gloved hand waved him off. "Go, go. I can entertain myself for a short while."

With a short bow, Sheryl stepped away from the Earl of Millennium and strode unhurriedly towards the doors of his parlor. The Akuma looked quite abashed at the sight of its creator sitting there, calmly perusing some documents laid between them on a coffee table, but continued.

"The prisoner, he's escaped!"

"Dear me," Sheryl murmured mockingly. "How ingenious of him. Where is he now?"

"In the west hall, Noah sir!"

The west hall was quite a distance from the room he'd been left in, near the cellar. In hindsight, it hadn't been his best idea. He had to pass that room to get wine for the evening's meal, and it had tempted him to check in on his new project.

And showing concern simply would not do.

"Delay him, but do not kill him." He'd rather confront the young Exorcist in the house than the grounds, he wanted the sunlight to be a special treat that the boy looked forward to.

"I-I cannot, Master Noah! He is too fast!"

Sheryl gave the Akuma a sharp look, even as he increased his pace, just a little. "He's on death's door. He shouldn't be able to walk, let alone run. Detain him."

The Akuma, a young blonde girl with pigtails, trembled so hard they shook. "He can move faster than any human, Master Noah! He has damaged several Akuma and destroyed one."

Sheryl felt his eye tic in annoyance and he brushed a lock of hair from his face, cutting through the dining room. Luckily, he'd been on the other end of the complex, so heading him off was fairly easy, but even so . . . how on earth could he have destroyed an Akuma without Innocence? Was it possible he still had a piece on him?

The prayer bracelet, he thought immediately. Tyki had commented on how desperate the Order must be, if it would allow an Exorcist to so openly flaunt that he believed the Vatican was in fact incorrect, as far as the details of his deity were concerned.

Well. It was surely the young man's last card, and he had revealed it all too soon.

"Follow my orders or I will destroy you myself."

The Akuma squeaked and ran to obey, and Sheryl jogged quietly through the large walnut-paneled room, poking his head out into the West Hall. There was the sound of fighting, so he stepped out more completely, ducking around a stand and bust of Mozart to better see what his little protégé was up to.

All he saw was a whirl of blue-black hair, grossly misshapen, and a level two – the only one in the complex, come to think of it – went flying into the wall. Spackle and painstakingly recreated stencil was pulverized by its impact.

The Exorcist paused, sizing up his opponent, and Sheryl Camelot could hardly believe his eyes.

It was the boy. His uniform was still in tatters, he was still covered in blood, yet he moved as though he was not injured, and as the Akuma had said, faster than humanly possible. In less than a breath he leapt upon the recovering level two, jamming what appeared to be a piece of Akuma armor into the level two's protesting maw.

He had torn a piece from another Akuma and was using the dark matter to fight his way out of the complex.

Only now he had lost his weapon. The level two was sufficiently damaged, and exploded, leaving no piece of armor intact enough to be of use, and the Exorcist swore, moving once again down the hall, towards a large bay window.

He stepped calmly into the boy's path.

The Exorcist slowed, then came to a stop, hardly out of breath. They measured one another, and Sheryl cocked his head to the side.

"Heavens, what a racket. This mess displeases me." He waved a hand. "Clean it up."

The Exorcist merely watched him. "Who are you?"

An excellent question. He hadn't answered it yesterday, but then again he hadn't been asked. "I am Sheryl Camelot, the recently deceased Minister of Moravia."

"Noah," the Exorcist spat.

"Master," Sheryl corrected. "Currently I am merely displeased. Disobey me further and I shall become angry."

He expected the boy to curse him, as he had done yesterday, but he did nothing of the kind. For a moment he appeared to be considering his options, and Sheryl patiently waited.

Almost faster than he could blink, the Exorcist attacked. He had no weapon, Sheryl concluded, easily dodging the initial strike and the one that followed, using only a fraction of his power to dance out of reach.

"Tell me, how is it you're able to move so well?" He started for the Exorcist when the human stumbled, a hand clutching at his chest. Perhaps more injured than he looked . . . ? Whether truly pain or an act, it was used to draw him in; Sheryl dodged a wicked backhand by luck alone, and caught the fist following up on the failed attack.

"You should be near death," he noted, and crushed the Exorcist's hand.

The human screamed, lashing out with a foot that was easily deflected, and then the other. Sheryl never released the hand, though he could feel dislocated fingers grinding in his grip, and he twisted it, the least amount of pressure needed to bear down on the samurai's wrist and forearm. It was enough; the human was forced to his knees, and Sheryl did not relax for a moment.

"I asked you a question, human. Answer me with the truth."

Despite the injuries and the pain, the look on the Exorcist's face sent shivers down his spine. "I will kill you," he ground, gritting his teeth hard enough to crack them to deny any other sound an escape.

The more brittle, the easier to break. Sheryl almost shook his head. Almost.

He needed to pay attention. The first few days set the tone for the rest of the conditioning, after all. "Threatening your master is not an answer. How are you able to do this?" Then he leaned closer, forcing the human to bend towards him to take pressure off his twisting forearm. It seemed there were scars around his eyes in a starburst pattern, something he did not remember seeing yesterday. They hadn't touched his eyes, where in the world . . . ?

The Exorcist spat in his face.

Sheryl smiled pleasantly, and continued to crush the Exorcist's hand until the skin split. He did not stop applying pressure until the boy's forearm was fractured and elbow was dislocated, and when he released him, the best the Exorcist could do was cradle the destroyed limb and breathe.

"I am disappointed," he informed the human, who had the audacity to look up at him, eyes burning with hatred. He withdrew the silk handkerchief from beneath his collar, mopping up his face, and then he held it up, in front of the Exorcist.

"Pay close attention. Every time you disappoint me, your punishment will be as follows."

-x-

Author's Notes: So, now I just need to think up something horrible to do with a silk scarf. You have silverfox2702 to thank if I ever do. Never trust science-types. Tricksy. You can see where this is going, but aren't you proud? I'm getting to the point quickly!

(I bet none of the PAA folks are reading this, and will never believe I wrote a short(er) story.)