Chapter Eleven:
Arcs of magenta lightning hurtled upward from the dead man's body and lit the smoke of Lane's pyre with an eldritch glow. A figure coalesced, standing above Nigel's fallen corpse. It laughed and swept open its great feathered wings. The smoke billowed aside momentarily and the three who had been berating Kanda choked into silence.
"Well, well," laughed the incubus, tossing his long, red tresses back from where they were caught on delicate, pale-gold horns with a jerk of his head. His smile revealed even white teeth and long, curving fangs. "Now wasn't that fun?"
Allen and Samuel stared, stupefied, while the smoke displaced by the creature's wings swirled back into the cleared air, making the thing's figure indistinct once more. Somewhere behind them, Lilith was far removed from her usual level-headed self. She had collapsed to the floor, weeping and shrieking intermittently. Kanda alone seemed unaffected and unsurprised. His lips curled into a snarl and he leapt forward, Mugen already slicing through the haze to strike at the demon. The Japanese exorcist's movement was incredibly fast as he drew on his engineered strength to extend himself far beyond normal human capacity. The shining Innocence blade sped unerringly toward its target and cut brutally into…nothing.
Kanda's deep blue eyes widened marginally and the black-haired man was already turning when the incubus reappeared in the center of the little triangle formed by the Black Order trio. The swordsman ground his teeth and willed himself to turn faster, reaching with Mugen while every muscle and tendon in his body screamed with the effort, but the monster was a blur; clawed hands slammed into Kanda's shoulder and upper chest, the sharp talons ripping through the thick terrycloth robe and the tattered exorcist's uniform underneath to rend already-bruised flesh, and the Japanese man was hurled backward through the air to slam into the wood-paneled wall of the dining room with enough force to cause the wall to explode out into the parlor behind it. The loud, sickly crunch of Kanda's skull shattering on impact made Allen's stomach churn and the black-haired man crumpled to the floor like a broken doll. His blood started to seep into the beautiful Persian rug, dying even the rich crimson an even darker red.
The incubus spread its wings wide, the tips of its pinions easily brushing the walls on either side of the dining room. Allen flinched as the white feathers brushed against him, then flinched again when his gaze locked with that of the incubus. Gray eyes stared into piercing gold. The creature's pupils contracted as it focused its attention on the pale exorcist and Allen's dimly registered the odd, rectangular, goat-like shape, even as an odd fog robbed his mind of all acuity. The creature's perfect lips parted in a seductive smile and it smiled down at the shorter teen benevolently.
"Why do you look at me with such hate?" it breathed in a voice golden and liquid as honey. "Never have you come to any harm by my hand."
Allen ripped his gaze away and lashed out with his black-clawed hand, thankful that Crown Clown had never deactivated. He was rewarded by a stinging blow to the side of his head from one of the incubus's great wings as the creature flowed away from the strike. Allen's eyes watered from the force of the blow and he staggered slightly as he tried to rotate and continue facing the beast. It stepped lightly over to where Lilith half-sat, half-knelt beside the charred mark on the floor that was all that remained of Lane besides the greasy smoke. She flinched when the thing's glorious wings settled onto her shoulders, wrapping her in a cocoon of white down.
"And you, lady." The English exorcist found his mind wandering again at the sound of that perfect voice. "So sad, so pitiful. Tell me what troubles you, and I will ease your pain."
Lilith turned her tear-streaked face up toward the incubus, hope lending her tired face more beauty than Allen had ever seen in her before. She reached up with one shaky hand to grasp the creature's forearm, then bowed her head in petition.
"Please," she whispered, "please bring them back…please…"
The incubus leaned over her as though straining to hear her soft words better, an expression of satisfaction on its face. One clawed hand was lifted to rest gently on Lilith's hair and it spoke again: "I will return them to you soon, little one, but in return you must render me assistance in a small task—ah!"
The golden voice was cut off abruptly in a sharp bark of surprise and the incubus looked down at its own belly in seeming amazement. Protruding from the sleek, muscular torso was the hilt of one of the bread knives that had so recently seen service at the breakfast table. Lilith's strong hands were wrapped around the hilt and she jerked the handle down sharply, driving the serrated blade more deeply under the thing's ribs and deep into its vital organs. Whatever spell the creature's voice had wrought to hold Samuel and Allen in thrall was broken and the two men let out a shout and began to rush forward—just as it began to laugh, a deep peal like bronze bells that rumbled from its throat, even as a trickle of scarlet ran down from its already-red lips.
"That, little one," it said when it had calmed from its hilarity somewhat, "was unnecessary." It plucked the knife from its own flesh and held it up to the light to examine it. Gore still caked the edge, catching in the little saw teeth designed to bite into a loaf. "I wonder," came the words in a musing tone, "what would happen if…" Allen darted forward as it trailed off, but it was too late; the creature grabbed Lilith roughly by her hair and dragged her away while bringing the knife down with the other hand to stab through the back of the hand that still clutched its arm. Lilith screamed loudly and shrilly, her voice breaking on the highest notes. It began to saw at her flesh, never removing the blade and cutting through the bones in her hand and wrist until the blade sliced into the space between her radius and ulna and leapt forward at the sudden lack of resistance. The serrated edge buried itself in the inside surface of her radius and the blade twisted under the force of the incubus's strength until the steel snapped, leaving the blade trapped in her arm and the hilt in the thing's hand. Lilith crumpled to the ground, the fingers of her unwounded hand groping at the broken steel that jutted from her skin, mouth open in a silent howl of agony.
Allen's rush forward finally carried him into range—his charge across the room had been too slow to prevent the incubus's violent act—and he reached forward with both claws. He managed to snatch a handful of feathers from the trailing edge of one wing as the beast leapt away again, taking Lilith with it. It landed gracefully despite its human burden in the parlor, not far from where Kanda's body lay sprawled out in a pool of blood. Its golden eyes bored into Allen as it lifted Lilith off the floor by her hair with one hand.
"Stand and watch," it hissed, its tone no longer the wheedling and friendly. The force of the command rocked the pale exorcist back onto his heels and Samuel, who had only just begun to recover from the trap of its voice, stood rigidly upright with his brown eyes fixed helplessly on the creature and its victim.
Claws the color of ivory traced across Lilith's jaw and cheek, smearing her tears, then dug into her cheek. The incubus pulled slowly, painstakingly tearing a ragged patch of flesh from the servant's face before dropping it to the carpeted floor. Lilith's eyes rolled madly in their sockets until the claws were lifted back to her face, where it plucked out the fragile orbs in the same way one might pluck grapes. Lilith was gurgling, her hands fluttering blindly in front of her face as she felt the damage. The incubus threw her down contemptuously, ripping loose a thick hank of her hair. In his frozen state, held captive by the creature's despicable power, Allen could only watch with gut-wrenching horror as the beast lifted one taloned foot and stepped on the maid's jaw, applying pressure until, with a sickening crack, the bones gave way and the lower half of her ruined face collapsed.
The incubus still stared into Allen's face, clearly enjoying what it saw there. "Give me your rage, your hate, your suffering," it sighed out in pleasure. "I will take it and grow stronger. Your weakness and affections betray you, and by her death and your pain, I will become more powerful yet. Tell me, what should I do next?" It raised its foot again, this time placing it on Lilith's heaving ribcage. It began to press down with greater and greater force as it continued: "Shall I kill that man with you, the one in white? Or should I tear apart the body of the black-haired one? Though," it added, flashing a cruel smile, "it would be such a pity to ruin something I took so much pleasure in."
Anger deep enough to swallow the world overcame Allen and, with an inhuman shriek of bestial rage, the pale exorcist shattered the enchantment that bound him and sprinted for the incubus. It merely snorted at him scornfully and made as if to stomp down. Allen watched as Lilith's ribs began to bow as the stomp connected and willed himself to move faster, the room already blurring past—and then the parlor was suddenly full of hellish insects, which swarmed around the incubus, piercing with their needle-like noses and dragging out shimmering strands of something.
The beast howled in shock and unfamiliar pain, then vanished in a blaze of pink-tinged radiance, leaving behind the scent of burning and blood. In the midst of the wreckage of the wall, Kanda sat up slowly, Mugen in one hand and hair clotted with blood. Allen's boots slipped in the slick of blood on the floor where he had lain and the pale exorcist plowed into the carpet, managing to direct his fall so that he ended up sprawled next to Lilith.
"Oh God, oh God," he whispered repeatedly, reaching out touch her uninjured hand. She latched onto his fingers with incredible strength, grinding the bones together, and a bubbling whistle came from the mangled remains of her face. Ha felt Samuel and Kanda's presences just behind him—the Finder had been released from the spell with the disappearance of the incubus—and the Japanese man lifted Mugen, his intentions obvious even to Allen's grief-numbed mind.
"Kanda! No!" he screamed, grabbing the hand that held Mugen in his Innocence claws.
Stormy blue eyes glared back at him and Kanda shook him off with a strength that was frightening from one so recently dead. "She is already dying; would you let her suffer more?"
Allen opened his mouth to protest, to argue for a doctor, to call for a miracle, but a trembling hand clutched at the terrycloth robe that Allen wore. Lilith stared up at him with her empty sockets and shook her head slowly. A line of bloody saliva drooled from her crushed mouth. The Englishman fell silent and watched as Kanda angled Mugen and drove the sword under what remained of the servant's chin to pierce her brain. The swordsman pulled the blade free, giving it a swift pull downward to sever her spine as well. Lilith's hand dropped from Allen's robe, leaving behind only a smudge of red.
There was a long silence, pregnant with things left unsaid and weighed with sorrow and regret, then Samuel spoke, his voice—to his credit—wavering only slightly.
"So what do we do now?"
Kanda gazed at him, his face expressionless, then slid deactivated Mugen and stuck the Innocence sword back into the sash of his torn bathrobe. "Now we kill it," was all he said, and the Japanese exorcist turned and began to walk away, Samuel drifting after him. Allen rose to follow them, but paused when the portrait over the mantelpiece caught his eye again. Evangeline Graciér smiled down at him in all her beauty, but now there was an uneasy edge to the set of her lips and a hint of fear in the wideness of her eyes that he had not seen before. His attention was brought back to the immediate situation when Kanda's voice, flat and hard, snapped out at him.
"Oy, Bean Sprout. If you ever get out of my sight, I'll kill you the next time I see you. That thing can hide anywhere. That goes for you, too, Finder."
And the dark-maned man set off through the halls, retracing the path he and Allen had taken earlier that day. At first Allen was impressed by Kanda's apparent tracking skill, but after a few moments and a good look at the floor, he realized that the older exorcist was simply following the bloody trail they had left on their first pass. It was a little disturbing to know that it was his blood that he was following, but the crazy rush of adrenaline that had surged through his system when the incubus appeared was fading fast and leaving behind a desperate exhaustion. He supposed that was why this fucked-up little Hansel and Gretel path started to seem far more amusing than is should have.
He was stumbling by the time the ragged trio managed to climb the stairs and go down the hall the Allen's room. Kanda shoved the door open and moved immediately to the small suitcase that was shoved half-under the bed—his bag had been moved into Allen's room once Kanda had decided to take up residence there. Samuel stared fixedly at the huge pool of blood on the floor, now dry, where Kanda had stabbed the younger exorcist earlier that morning.
Allen stood next to the Finder, head down and mind wandering as he struggled to recall all of the nuances of the old fairy tale—though for the life of him he couldn't remember why it was suddenly so important that he do so. Kanda had shed the blood-soiled bathrobe and the tattered remains of his Exorcist's uniform and was pulling on a pair of his too-tight black pants like the ones that Allen had been so fascinated by on the train. Allen's stared vacantly at his back, soon covered by a white shirt and a black jacket twin to the one so recently ruined. Kanda turned to face his two companions as he settled Mugen on his hip in its typical spot, properly sheathed now that the Japanese exorcist had retrieved the scabbard from wherever it had fallen that morning.
"We have to try to draw it out of wherever it's hiding and get it in the open. It's fast, but enclosed spaces will only slow us down and give it an advantage. The courtyard out front should give us enough room to work. Finder, set up a barrier as soon as it appears. Bean Sprout, use your cannon arm to make sure it doesn't get behind him." Kanda's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you listening, Bean Sprout?"
Allen jerked upright from his slumped position and glanced at the Japanese sword wielder with wide eyes. "Push it in the oven!" He blurted frantically.
Silence. Samuel and Kanda stared at the cursed teen with dubious expressions. Allen realized what he had said and started to blush, the blood rising to his face in a tidal wave and making the rest of his body feel weak.
"Hansel and Gretel?" The Finder asked slowly after a while. "I suppose the incubus is like an evil witch."
"Hn," Kanda grunted. "So you were listening. Trap it and kill it."
Allen breathed a sigh of relief. He could hardly believe his luck that his woolgathering had been mistaken for a metaphor for Kanda's plan. Thank God Kanda's plans were usually along the same line—corner it like a rat and kill it—because otherwise I would have no idea what was going on, Allen thought gratefully. He was having a hard time focusing even now and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. His limbs were heavy, too, and he wasn't sure that he had enough energy to use Crown Clown with even a fraction of his normal capacity, especially since he was pretty sure that it was the only thing keeping him alive and he was running out of reserves to tap.
"Right," he said dully, "we'll start first thing tomorrow."
"We'll start right now," Kanda snapped aggressively.
Somewhere in the depths of his soul, Allen found enough energy to be angry. "Are you stupid? Do you honestly think that we are in any condition to fight?" His waving hand encompassed both Samuel and himself. "I bled out all over the floor this morning thanks to you and, unlike you, I don't freakishly regenerate all the time. I die, and Samuel does, too. So if you are going to risk our lives with your stupid plan, then at least let us sleep so that we have even a little chance of coming out of it alive! And if you don't want to wait, do it yourself! You seemed to have handled it just fine these last few days!"
Allen knew as soon as the last few words left his mouth that he had gone too far, but it was too late to take them back. Kanda swayed as if the younger man had physically struck him and he paled under his bronzed skin. The pale teen was torn between apologizing and saying more, but it didn't seem fair to any of them either way, so he held his tongue. A muscle in Kanda's jaw tightened and the swordsman's fingers clenched around Mugen's hilt, but the Japanese man said nothing. Allen felt a little ill; much as Kanda could be an inhuman ass, he didn't need to have the abuse heaped upon him by the incubus to be thrown back into his face. The Finder watched them carefully, ready to step between them if the worst should happen and it came to blows. Samuel knew that he didn't have much chance of stopping them if it should they really began to fight in earnest, but he also knew that he had no chance of matching the incubus's power without an Innocence weapon of his own. He needed the exorcists.
"Kanda-san," Samuel said carefully, "I think that Allen has a point. Allen certainly is not in the best shape for fighting and I'm not in very good shape myself. I've never seen someone torn apart like that right in front of me. It's still pretty early in the day, but I really think that we would all be better off if we waited until morning. I'll admit that it's risky to spend the night here, but our only other option is to leave the grounds altogether, and I don't know what that would do to Mr. Harrison's wards."
That got the exorcist's attention.
"I thought that Mr. Harrison's barrier broke when he died," Allen said confusedly. Kanda nodded once to concur with the sentiment.
"I don't quite understand it either," the Finder replied, "but my golem is still sensing a barrier of the same sort around the grounds."
"Ah!" Allen cried out, his memory suddenly triggered. "Timcampy!" He staggered across the room, looking for the familiar golden orb of his golem. "Timcampy!" he called again, hoping that the metal creature would respond to its name as usual.
Kanda drifted over to the bed, his eyes glazed and his face impassive. "He's here," the exorcist said in a hollow voice, pulling a small box out from between the mattress and the box spring near the head of the bed. He opened it and the small golden golem fluttered out, looking decidedly crumpled. It flew immediately over to Allen, where it settled onto his white hair.
The pale exorcist and the Finder said nothing, but Kanda answered the unspoken question anyway. "Nobody will come to help if they don't get the message, will they?"
Allen changed the subject quickly. "So the golems can sense the barrier Mr. Harrison set up? Can Tim sense it, too?"
"I presume so," Samuel responded.
"He can sense the thing, too," Kanda interjected, his voice flat and carefully neutral. "He always started acting differently when it…appeared."
"That's useful," Allen jumped in hurriedly. "It makes going to sleep a little less risky, since Tim can just wake us up before it gets here and starts attacking. It won't be able to sneak up on us." Samuel agreed with him, then they both turned to Kanda. The swordsman's face was haunted.
"Fine." Kanda's tone was dead and removed; Allen could see just how much the concession had cost him. It was not in the swordsman's nature to spare himself from hardship and this little nap that the younger exorcist so craved would almost certainly fall into the category of luxury in the Japanese man's mind. The pale teen kept on grey eye on Kanda as he began to settle himself on the floor near the wall to rest. The sudden twitch of a muscle in Kanda's jaw and the narrowing of dark blue eyes was the only warning Allen got before Kanda's burst out in tense, agitated anger.
"Not here!"
Allen and Samuel went still in the middle of stretching out on the floor, glancing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And that was when Allen realized that perhaps Kanda's reluctance had less to with not wanting to rest after their rather one-sided fight with the incubus and more to do with the locale. His grey eyes strayed over to the bed, still rumpled and stained with blood from the most recent attack on Kanda, then down to the thick crust of clotted blood on the floor.
"Ah," the younger exorcist said slowly, "we should move next door anyway, since…" he trailed off when he couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse for the move. Kanda's eyes narrowed and Allen winced; he had made his concession to Kanda's emotional trauma too obvious for the swordsman's taste. Allen supposed that it made sense. The Japanese man had been stripped of so much else that what little pride remained was precious.
And so it was a subdued trio that limped next door and curled up on the floor under blankets scrounged out of the linen closet. A small heap of clothing was tossed down in front of the pale-haired teen. Kanda had grabbed a change of clothes for Allen on the way out. The pale exorcist was too grateful for words for the clean fabric and the chance to get out of his soiled bathrobe. He didn't even have the energy to scare up a blush when he shed the bathrobe in front of his two companions. He moved methodically as he dressed, focusing on each button with the care normally reserved for extremely delicate tasks and having a hard time not catching himself in the zipper on the pants. It seemed odd to him that Kanda had brought him clothes but hadn't thought to provide any underwear, but that little mystery was quickly explained when Allen pulled on the exorcist coat. The swath of black fabric fell to brush just above his ankles: Kanda had given him one of his coats. And it had already been established that night on the train—it seemed so long ago—that Kanda eschewed undergarments. The pants he was now wearing were a little tight, too, and Allen spared a moment to be grateful that his thighs were slightly less muscular than the swordsman's, otherwise he doubted he could have slid into the slim-cut leather. Kanda had given him one of his own uniforms. Samuel opened his mouth to make a comment, changed his mind, and closed it again. Kanda was already asleep, or at least had his eyes closed and was pretending that he was. Allen wasn't going to risk wounding any of the older exorcist's odd emotions either way, so he thanked the black-haired man before he, too, laid down and closed his eyes. He didn't even have to pretend indifference or disinterest because he was asleep almost immediately.
His dreams were dark and muddled, half-glimpsed images and distorted vistas filled his mind, making him stir uneasily in his sleep. He dreamed of falling, of burning, of fleeing endlessly from something unseen. And so it came as a relief when he felt strong hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him awake, and heard a familiar, concerned voice calling his name.
"Allen! Allen, wake up already!" A hot sting spread across Allen's left cheek when whoever it was calling for him, apparently deciding more drastic measures were necessary to pull him from his distressed rest, slapped him sharply. The pale exorcist groaned in relief as his mind recoiled from his dreams and his grey eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was red hair and he acted on reflex. His left hand balled into a fist under its protecting glove and he punched right into the center of the pale blob framed by the scarlet. There was a muffled curse and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor; the weight that he hadn't even realized was crouching over him vanished.
Allen blinked rapidly, trying to get his bearings. A large room swam into view, completely cluttered with books and papers and strange artifacts and carelessly abandoned clothing. A tan hand appeared, clutching the silk coverlet, which was a rather shocking shade of orange. A face followed the hand as the owner of both appendages crawled back into view and onto the bed.
"Damn," Lavi hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose between the thumb and pointer finger of his other hand. "I think my nose is bleeding." He removed his hand and a thin trickle of scarlet fluid ran down onto the hammer-wielder's lips. He stuck out his pink tongue to taste the liquid and grimaced at the tangy iron flavor. "I am bleeding. That must have been some dream for you to punch me like that. You are aware that I am now going to use your guilt for injuring this beautiful face to manipulate you shamelessly, aren't you?"
Allen was nonplussed. He sat there stupidly, staring at the one-eyed exorcist with a blank face while he tried to figure out exactly what was happening. Lavi noticed the empty gaze—he would, he was the Bookman's apprentice after all and the Panda would kick him into next week if he couldn't pick up on something so obvious—and waved a hand in front of Allen's face until those grey eyes focused.
"Are you all right?" the hammer-wielder asked when he was finally sure that Allen was actually paying attention.
Allen gave him an odd look, then reached out and poked the other man firmly between the eyes, just below his headband. "You're solid," the younger boy said wonderingly.
"O-kay," Lavi stretched the word out disbelievingly. "I'm the one who got hit in the head, you know. It shouldn't be you who's so confused right now."
"No, no." Allen drew his knees up to his chest, forgetting that he was still wearing the muddy boots he had been so worried about putting on Lavi's bed when the redhead insisted that he sit down. Lavi sighed at the enormous streaks of dirt and dust that now stained his bedding, but didn't say anything. After all, he was the one who had tossed Allen onto the bed and so he now had no room to complain. He was so distracted by the destruction of his coverlet that he almost missed Allen's next words.
"I went on the mission with Kanda. There was a huge mansion, and an old man who turned out to be trying to keep an incubus trapped. The incubus killed everyone—well, everyone except us, that is, and technically Kanda killed two of them, but that was to end their suffering—and we were going to fight it, but we had to sleep first because Kanda—ah!" Allen cut himself off in mid-thought with a loud gasp and his hands flew to his chest. His black and white uniform was still pristine, its cut and style familiar. Disbelievingly, he pulled the fabric over his chest open, tearing off one of the silver buttons in the process. With shaking fingers he touched the pale, unblemished skin over his heart that had so recently been nothing more than a gaping hole sealed only by the power of his own Innocence.
"Kanda stabbed me. He stabbed me right here." Allen's voice was low and intense, wanting—needing—the other exorcist to believe him. "I was wearing his uniform when I fell asleep, and the three of us were together in a room. Timcampy was guarding us because it could sense the incubus, but…Don't you believe me?" His last words were spoken as a plea, his hands reaching out to take Lavi's in a tight grip. The Bookman was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and worry and, so faint that Allen almost didn't recognize it, pity.
Lavi sighed and gently shifted their hands so that he could cradle Allen's between his own. He looked down at their entwined fingers for several moments, considering his next words. Then he looked up and his one teal eye met and held Allen's grey gaze.
"Allen," the redhead said softly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs of Allen's hands. "You haven't left for your mission yet. You met with Komui this afternoon after Kanda and I had a falling out. You two were going to leave later—you said something about packing—and then you showed up here with Timcampy in tow. We talked about Kanda for a while, then you fell asleep. You were muttering something about boxers in your sleep for a bit—I didn't know that people could blush when they weren't awake—and then you were quiet until just a little while ago. You started thrashing around like you were having a nightmare, so I woke you up. You know the rest."
"You're saying that it was a dream?" Allen was stunned.
Lavi's expression was compassionate and concerned. "It must have been: you haven't left for your mission yet. But, you know Allen, I really think that it might be better if you stayed here and let someone else take this mission. Komui would agree with me, I'm sure, since you are having such disturbing dreams. You can't go out if you are having visions strong enough to distort your reality."
Allen shook his head slowly in negation. "I need to go on this mission, Lavi."
"I'm afraid not," Lavi said with a bit more force. "I can't let you risk yourself and Kanda because your health is compromised. I'm sorry." Having said that, the hammer-wielder beckoned and a black golem emerged from the shadows near the roof of the tall room. "Relay to Komui that Allen is having problems sleeping and had a dream powerful enough to rattle him pretty badly. I think that it would be safest if he got a break for a while; you've been running him ragged recently, Komui."
There was a crackle of static as the golem passed along Lavi's words, then Komui's voice spilled from between the golem's metal teeth.
"Allen, I need you to come down to the infirmary to get a check-up. I am going to reassign this mission to someone else in the meantime. I want you to have enough time to rest and get yourself sorted out before you go out again. I'll call Kanda and tell him that we're going to put someone else on the mission with him. Noise Marie might be a good choice—"
"NO!"
Allen's scream cut through the quiet room like lightning through an old oak. Lavi flinched in surprised and turned wide-eyes to the pale exorcist.
"Are you okay?" the redhead asked again, taking in Allen's panting breaths and strained expression. The poor boy looked like he had just run a marathon the way he was gasping for air.
"Allen?" Komui, too, sounded worried.
"No," Allen said again, quieter but with no less desperate intensity. "No, Kanda can't go. He can't go on this mission. He just can't."
Komui sighed, sounding tired. "Allen, I assure you that Kanda will be fine. He'll have a partner and he is well able to take care of himself."
"No!" the pale exorcist's voice was cracking as if under terrible stress. "If he goes, he'll be hurt horribly. Please believe me, I know. I saw it. He can't go!"
There was momentary silence form both other men. Finally Komui sighed. "Would it put you more at ease if I were to assign this mission to another group entirely and Kanda stayed here in headquarters until you recover?"
Allen knew it was selfish to put someone else in danger in an attempt to keep Kanda safe, but after what he had seen, he didn't care. "Yes," the pale teen assured Komui.
"Then I'll recall Kanda; he's already headed for the boats. I believe his intention was to leave you behind. I want you to come down to the infirmary now. And I do mean now." The communication cut off as soon as Komui stopped speaking, a sure sign that the scientist had shifted his attention to Kanda. Lavi didn't envy the crazy director his conversation with the implacable swordsman.
Allen scooted to the end of the bed and set his booted feet on the floor. Lavi stopped him with a hand on his arm just before the shorter boy stood.
"Do you want me to walk you to the infirmary?" the eyepatched Bookman asked quietly. Allen just shook his head, rose, and walked across the sea of paperwork and fabric on the floor to the door. Timcampy fluttered up from behind one of the hideous figurines littering Lavi's desk and settled himself on top of Allen's snowy white hair. The cursed exorcist paused just after pushing the door open and touched his pocket with one hand. There was a soft bulge there, but before Lavi's curiosity could get the better of him and he could ask, Allen pulled a swatch of scarlet silk from the pocket and tossed it to land on the bed beside the hammer-wielder.
"I think these are yours," was all the younger exorcist said before leaving. The door swung shut behind him and Lavi scooped up the fabric interestedly. The next moment, the redhead was laughing, holding his own missing boxers at arm's length.
Author's note: Hey, guys. I just got back from a long, long, long trip with essentially no internet access, which delayed this post far longer than I had intended. I figured I had better post it today in honor of my birthday; I hope you enjoy it. Some of you may be suprised that I am still alive. However, I ask for your forbearance and I will reaffirm my promise to finish this story. Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me.