Mozart's Spirit

(A D.Gray Man fanfiction)

By P.A. Lovas

Pairings: Lavi/Allen, with some Kanda/Linalee.


7.

Everything was dark; black and palpable and a so very cold. A paper moon hung dismally, hatched into a sky that was dappled with listless dots that Allen assumed was supposed to represented stars. The moonlight was scraped over the dark surface of the water like thick, dense paint over the motionless swell of waves. Allen pulled his coat around himself, his breath bursting into small, swirling plumes in the chill. He wondered where he was. He was vaguely aware that this was a dream, and of having been to this place before. He didn't have much time to think over it as the sound of music touched his ears. It was the tinkering sound of a piano, growing more sure and vibrant as he moved closer.

He called into the blackness, his heart clenching with excitement in his chest. "Mana?" He had met with his foster father like this so many times, and he realized it had been a while since they had spoken, from what Allen figured, was inside of his heart. Because that's where Mana lived now.

"Mana?" he tried again. The music was becoming louder, swelling and descending in the vivacious timbre of the lone piano. There was an indistinct outline of a figure in the darkness, illuminated only by a single spot light. The silhouette sat before what Allen knew were the contours of a grand piano, its shadowy fingers dancing over the keys, playing the haunting music. His heart squeezed and he tried to rush forward, but there was a wall blocking his path, vaguely purple and iridescent. The music stopped abruptly and he woke screaming Mana's name.

"Whoa, easy there," a carefree voice said. Allen blinked the sleep from his eyes, the memories of the dream world receding like shadow as the day-lit world swam hazily before him. His senses were assaulted, first by the brightness of the sun that was beating down on him, intense and unrelenting to his sleep sensitive eyes. Next, he felt the chilly breeze but there was a warmth beneath him, pressing into his chest and wrapped securely around his legs. The warmth smelled faintly ashen, like the sweet, burning scent that came from blowing out a candle. The world came into focus, in vivid shades of orange, red, and green. Allen blink as Lavi smiled up at him, their faces only inches apart.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Lavi said happily, squatting low, allowing Allen to climb from Lavi's back at his own pace. The last time they had been in this position, Allen attempted to jump free but only succeeded in tumbling backwards in an ungraceful struggle. That had been fine then, as the ground had been covered with soft, cushioning snow. However, if Allen repeated that action now, he would find his head cracked against the stone paved roads. It was easier to allow him time to scramble to his feet then to deal with a concussion.

"Where are we?" Allen asked, taking in his surroundings. They were in what were obviously the remains of a town that had been torn apart by an Akuma attack. But how had they gotten here? He looked down at his clothes; a warm hooded sweater and a pair of slacks. "Where's my coat?"

"It's packed away safely in the off chance that any contaminants were on it," Bookman said in an offhanded manner. After all, lying was easy.

"Oh." Allen blushed slightly as he tugged at the hem of his shirt. Again, he was wearing clothes that he hadn't changed himself into. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not too long. Only about half a day," Lavi explained, rubbing at his own shoulder. "What is it now, about noon-ish, Gramps?"

Bookman looked into the sky, dark eyes narrowing into the sun, nostrils flaring as if trying to sense the time. "Probably closer to one o'clock," he answered dryly.

"I think we're about do for a break, right Kro-chan?"

Krowly smiled. "Thank goodness. I was getting hungry." His stomach growled in agreement and Lavi and Allen laughed as Krowly blushed. "Sorry."

"No worries," said Lavi, walking off and the group followed after him, stopping at a small clearing that had probably once been the center of the town. A stone fountain had been constructed, having been drained from either the earlier attack or the townspeople anticipating a cold winter. Erected at the center was a statue of what appeared to be the angel Gabriel, smooth and beautiful and androgynous in its cold, stone perfection.

Something about the statue bothered Allen, sending a small shiver along his spine that nestled uncomfortably between his shoulder blades. Perhaps it was too perfect, too smooth, or too real. He felt that it might come alive at any moment, might step from its pedestal and start trumpeting on the stone horn pressed to marble lips. But there was no Christ-child to announce, no message to deliver, so the statue remained as it was and forever would be. Cold and flawless and unmoving.

There were small pockets around the fountain; a moat of dead grass and leaves, of broken twigs and dirt. Allen was sure that in the spring, this place would be beautiful, full of a variety of lively, colorful flowers. Maybe there would be orchids or rosemary, reaching up and unfolding in deep violets and pure whites or even exotic pinks. But there will be no one to tend to them, to clear the soil of weeds and ravenous insects, and the buds would be strangled and the petals would scatter. They would brown and decay and they would die, enriching a soil where nothing would grow. The thought of it made Allen sad.

The four of them sat along the edge of the fountain and began pulling their lunch from the parcels they carried. Krowly was frowning as he looked at the spread; the same dried meat, cheese, bread and fruit that they had been eating for the past three days. They had only allowed themselves the extravagance of eating out once, having stopped at a small, quaint little café the day they had arrived in Italy.

Krowly and Allen had fought over who would eat more, and Allen, being Allen, took the challenge a little too seriously. Krowly had been knocked out of the running when Allen had slipped red peppers into Krowly's tomato pie and Krowly's sensitive palate had been unable to handle the heat. He ran around in a panic, and managed to trip over a large, lumbering dog happily chasing a neighborhood cat and Krowly had splashed into the freezing lagoon. He had missed out on most of the rest of the meal, much to his chagrin. So it was understandable that he turned his nose up at the monotonous food, eating it quickly and in large amounts, but resentfully all same.

"Still not hungry?" Lavi asked, turning to Allen who was sitting a little away from the group, simply watching them eat. He handed him a glass of water which Allen accepted gratefully.

"Not really," Allan answered, honestly. He learned his lesson the other night; he wasn't going to be able to outsmart Lavi in this.

"Not really, or not at all?" Lavi probed further.

Allen just shook his head, sipping at his water. It was cool and clean and felt good against his throat. For some reason, he still felt fuzzy around the edges and in the comfort of his friends he began to drift in and out. Lavi would shake him occasionally, forcing a piece of bread or meat into his hands and he would chatter incessantly at Allen until he ate what was given to him. Once Lavi's attention was elsewhere, Allen would tuck his chin down and doze lightly, still vaguely aware of his surroundings. Then Lavi would shake him again and then whole pattern would repeat itself until they had started packing and Lavi shook him once last time.

"Wake up, bean sprout. It's time to go."

"It's Allen," he mumbled sleepily, frowning as Lavi smiled infuriatingly down at him. Something that had been bugging him for a while clicked into place at that moment.

"Wait, where's Kanda and Linalee? Didn't they come with us?"

"They're helping some of the villagers evacuate," Lavi explained, flawlessly, though Allen noticed Krowly was shifting nervously, decisively not looking at Allen.

"Seriously?" Allen asked, unconvinced.

"Seriously," Lavi told him. "They'll catch up with us later."

"Lavi," Allen said in a scolding voice. "You better not be lying to me."

Lavi's expression was one of mock insult. "Allen, that's mean! Does this look like the face of a liar?"

"Yes," came three replies and Lavi frowned.

"You guys all suck." Lavi pouted and Allen stifled a laugh. Lavi turned to him, and though he was moping externally, there was something in his eye, a spark that he wore so frequently when Allen laughed or smiled.

"Idiot, let's get moving," Bookman's gruff voice spoke up.

"Sure thing, Gramps." Lavi heaved a bag over his shoulder and let out a small grunt. Allen felt bad, knowing that Lavi was probably sore from carrying Allen for as far and as long as he did. Allen wasn't the lightest person in the world.

"You alright?" Concern was evident in his voice.

Lavi smiled and ruffled Allen's hair. "Are you worried about me, bean sprout?"

"It's Allen!" he yelled, crossing his arms and glaring. "And no, I'm not."

"Of course," Lavi said and they began following after Bookman and Krowly.

It didn't take long for Allen's weak constitution to kick in. They barely made it a few miles outside of the town before he began to stagger slightly with every few steps. His head swam and his lugs constricted, the smallest movements making him pant, nearly gasping for air.

Lavi had already slowed his stride, but he stayed a few paces in front of Allen at all times. Krowly would occasionally turn back to assess the situation, his worry apparent in his face. With every gasping breath Allen took, Krowly looked like he wanted to cry. But Allen would just smile at him and wave a hand, silently telling him not to worry.

Each step Allen took reverberated painfully in his head and chest, so he found it difficult to be anything but eternally grateful when they decided to stop. Allen knew it was for his sake, but at that point he didn't much care. His pride had left him about a mile back, so he didn't fight too hard when Lavi's hands were on his shoulders, helping to steady him as Allen slid to the ground.

"I'm fine," Allen tried, though his voice was slightly hoarse and he was still gulping lightly for air.

"Yeah, like hell you are," Lavi said, but his voice was easy and calm.

Allen waited just a moment until he could breathe a bit easier before picking his head up and smiled sweetly. "Seriously, I think I'm just a little out of shape."

"Allen," Krowly started, but Lavi just met his gaze and shook his head. Give him this one, he seemed to say, so Krowly just lowered his eyes and clamped his lips together.

Bookman ambled over to where Allen was sitting and began checking him over. Hand on his head for fever, on his wrist for a pulse, checking his eyes and his lungs. Allen tried to fight, insist he was fine, but one look from Bookman seemed to silence him, and Allen didn't force the issue. After all, Allen had been on the receiving end of Bookman's punishments enough, more often than not due to something Lavi had said, or done, or not done. At this point, Allen knew better then to argue.

Removing his needles, Bookman began sliding them into the sensitive flesh of his right hand, into the harder, rougher skin of his left and into his feet. He twisted the needles, mumbling to himself, evidently less than happy with something. He handed Allen a small bottle of some sort of dense, black liquid. "Drink this," was all he said, and Allen obliged. It was bitter and repellent and it took every ounce of self control Allen had not to spit the vile concoction back up.

"Pretty gross, huh?" Lavi said, handing him a glass of water. Lavi smiled at Bookman who glared at him as he passed, tucking his needles back into his coat.

"Brat," he muttered and Lavi laughed.

The sky had just barely started to darken by the time they began to reassemble their gear. Lavi drew close to Allen's side, offering a hand to help him up. Allen frowned, but accepted it anyway, offering a "Thanks".

"We'll move onto the next town where we'll stop for the night," Bookman explained as they started out. They all nodded in understanding, not really wanting or needing to speak. By this point in the trip, they were all a little worn out and, besides Allen, short on sleep. Even Lavi was too tired to hold up much conversation, only answering when spoken to or when something was too amusing to pass up.

Once the foul aftertaste of the medicine had passed, Allen found he was feeling better, a bit more clear-headed and breathing was easier. He walked with his friends, managing to keep up his pace for a while. But as the night dragged on and by the time the sun had set, he was feeling more than a little drained. There was still a few miles left to the next town and Allen wasn't entirely sure he could make it. They began stopping more frequently for shorter intervals and Allen felt bad. He knew that if it wasn't for him, they would have arrived in town hours ago and everybody could have been fed and asleep by now.

"You alright?" Lavi asked, dropping to walk beside Allen. Lavi had removed his coat and draped it over Allen's shoulders as the air started to change from "cool" into "chilly". Allen now pulled it more tightly around himself, trying to hide his shivering, knowing it was useless. Lavi's eye saw everything. "Of course you're not," Lavi answered his own question.

Allen shook his head. "No, I'm fine," he said, his voice trembling through chattering teeth.

"I know this is hard on you, but we need to you to move on your own, alright? You can lean against me if you need to, but just keep walking."

"Keep walking?" Allen repeated, hearing the words so many ways; with his ears, his mind, and his heart. And he smiled, a full blown smile that cause Lavi to pause, looking a bit flabbergasted. "I can do that," Allen said, full of confidence and new found spirit. So he continued moving forward, but whenever he felt himself stagger, he would feel Lavi's hands steady him gently and hear Mana speak directly into his soul. Keep walking. You don't have to do it alone, just keep walking.


I got nothin'… Thanks for the support and the love, as it's always deeply appreciated. You guys know who you are :3

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