Well, here's twenty nine, and since it was delayed, I'll leave the abnormally long a/n until the end. I suggest you read it once you're done the chapter! But basically, this is some perspectives of the others, and what they think. An interlude. I felt like I was writing a one shot, and I really wish this could have turned out better, but being sick and having writer's block kind of sucks… But, enjoy, and leave a review on your way out? Note that the 'clown' referred to in the beginning of this chapter is Cosimo, the one who beat up Allen when he was in the circus without Mana.
29.
[interlude of the damned]
"Don't kid yourself, you don't fight for the Order, not anymore. You fight for the demons, correct?"
i.
Somewhere in the distance, underneath the setting sun that highlighted the bright grass and rocky road, a young boy sat against a tree, his auburn hair up in a ponytail because no one had cut it in God knows how long. His eyes were lidded over with pain, a bruise covering the side of his pale cheek from a beating that had come from a misguided clown. His clothes were worn and tatty, barely fitting his small form and covering his red and tender skin. Just a few feet away stood a man with a top hat and a suitcase, his gaze soft but not reaching the small boy in front of him. He knelt down, holding out his hand as a gesture of good will, but the boy just slapped it away – he had only agreed to come along because he was tired of the circus; he'd be damned if he was just going to open up and let the man in. Not when so many had broken the bitter trust he grudgingly gave out. No, trust got him nowhere, and it never would.
"Are you going to come with me?"
"I am coming with you, but I'm taking a bloody break."
Crude words, because that was what he'd been taught. After hearing the swear words and rude tones from those around him, why couldn't he speak like that? After all, he wasn't weak; just because he was younger didn't mean that he couldn't fight back.
"Yes, but we need to find a place to stay, especially since it's reaching dusk."
Sighing, the young boy pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the offered help. He thrust his hands in his pockets, a few strands of hair dancing around his face. At closer inspection, a torn lip and a small cut on the side of his cheek would be visible, but he covered it to the best of his ability. He wouldn't let the damn clown win – not a chance. He walked ahead, trying to get a head start, because for some reason, the man always managed to be ten paces ahead of him. As if on cue, the chuckling man passed by his younger charge, said boy glaring in response.
Really, that wasn't fair.
"You know," the man said, scratching his nose absentmindedly. The boy rolled his eyes at the attempt for conversation. "Scowling doesn't suit you."
"Says you," the boy retorted, feeling the need to defend his facial expressions. They were his.
"Yes, says me, since I'm the one who said it."
And there was the attempt at comedy – attempt, because the boy rarely laughed. He hated clowns.
"Stop trying to be funny."
"Trying?"
The boy huffed, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. The sun was almost completely hidden by the passing clouds and the promise of rain, a sliver of moon starting to appear in the earliest of the night. The temperature was beginning to dip into low degrees, yet warm enough to avoid heavy jackets; the late summer weather, appealing to most.
Someday, you're going to see this from my point of view.
The boy just continued to walk, oblivious to the thoughts of the man ahead of him. His eyes were cast downwards, some sense of relief his friend as they continued on the path.
I just hope I can reach you. You're so young, why was it you he chose?
His heavy arm was beginning to weigh down more then usual, the limb numb from lack of use.
Keep walking, Allen.
And so he did.
ii.
"Allen."
It was a calm voice, and though he recognized it, he couldn't place who it was. It called to him over and over again, but he couldn't answer. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move – he wasn't sure where he was, or what was happening. But it didn't feel right. Something cold was overtaking him, like an aura that was misplaced, that shouldn't have existed. He held out a hand, but he could barely see the black limb, nor the Innocence that was engraved on it.
"You can't always protect them."
The black blur of the area began to dissipate, and he found himself looking into a vast sea of darkness – never ending, never starting. He could faintly make out another figure behind the waved wall, but it was distant, and he couldn't put enough details together to earn a clearer image. Just a dull outline, small and fragile. The voice echoed around the empty space, menacing and taunting, familiar and irreplaceable – yet unrecognizable.
"Why don't you just give in? It'd be so much easier, Allen."
Why couldn't he place the voice? And why was it trying to deter him from fighting? He tried to answer back, to tell the voice to knock it off, because nothing it said would change his mind. Why was it discussing his friends, anyways? Confusion wrapped around his fuzzy mind, and it was then he realized he could still somewhat think.
Was it his subconscious speaking?
"Maybe I'm your subconscious. Maybe it's not me that wants to you to give in. Maybe it's… Allen that wants you to give in."
The voice had stopped making sense, and he was growing frustrated.
"Or maybe… you gave in a long time ago. I mean, losing your Innocence – " some of the pieces were starting to fall together, the sea of darkness wavering and breaking and shattering –
"Allen, you're going to lose those precious to you. We'll make sure of it. We're already close, aren't we? After all, I'm able to talk to you."
Why wouldn't the voice be quiet? Why was he in the sufferable sea that wouldn't let go of him – he could feel his breath stopping and his heart, and his body felt like lead –
"Maybe you should just… wake up? I'm sure you'll give in eventually. Even you can't hold out forever."
Wake up, that was sounding nice, but he didn't know how, why could he never wake up when he needed to –
"Stop this."
A new voice? One more demanding, but comforting in a way, and what was happening –
"Open your eyes!"
And so he did.
iii.
He had woken up gasping and crying for air, before he realized that he wasn't trapped in darkness.
His conscious had fallen into a state where he was blissfully unaware of his surroundings, or the condition of his body – but like everything else, it had to end, and Allen found it had ended far too soon. His mind had instantly retreated back to the nightmares he had been accustomed too, and the sea of black was still causing him distress, despite his efforts to push it to the back of his mind. He was disoriented when his eyes finally cracked open enough to gain a sense of awareness, but it didn't do much to soothe the pain that affected him as soon as he obtained the wakeful state – not just physically, but mentally too. The room was cool, something he was grateful for – it was a welcome change from the cell he had been imprisoned in, and he mentally shuddered when his thoughts strayed that far. After being placed in the stark white hospital room by Bak, he couldn't recall much else. Falling into a deep slumber after being picked up by the Asian branch head, he hadn't had enough sense to go over what had happened, what he had just witnessed and what he had fallen victim to. The Fourteenth was mostly silent as well, Neah not sure on what to say because Allen wasn't exactly… himself.
Allen wasn't even sure what 'himself' was.
"Why does it matter what they think?"
Because I fight –
"Don't kid yourself, you don't fight for the Order, not anymore. You fight for the demons, correct?"
Allen refused to answer, because then he'd truly believe he was a traitor.
After regaining his lost breath, his eyes had opened enough to assess his surroundings. Fighting past the horrible ache in every part of his body, he found that he was once again placed in the hospital, as if he had never left the room at four in the morning to clear his head; the room smelled of lemon and antiseptics, and he could hear bustling footsteps not far away. His body felt tied down, as if wires were protruding from him, connected to the odd machines that were becoming too much of a common occurrence. He couldn't see much past the end of the bed, for the room was bathed in little light and Allen assumed it was late in the evening.
I need better sleep patterns.
"You shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place."
Don't start this.
"Mr. Walker, can you concentrate?"
The voice of the nurse had startled him out of any argument he was about to start with Neah; he wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't heard her walk over, or if it was because he hadn't ever heard her tone so soft before. Attempting to answer, he was unsurprised when his voice didn't co-operate – instead, his throat cracked and he desperately wished for the water he had been deprived of for three days straight. He tried to lift up a bruised hand when she offered him a glass, but the nurse shook her heard before Allen could lift his limb up off the bed. The nurse sighed as she put the glass to his chapped lips, and although he felt a bit babied at the notion, he gratefully drank the cool liquid, relishing in the soothing feel of the water.
"Don't expect to be moving around much for the next little while, Walker," she said, placing the glass back down on the wooden table when he had finished drinking. He tried to answer, but once again, his voice did little but squeak miserably.
"Stop trying to talk, and just listen. You're bed ridden for the next week, whether you like it or not," the nurse said the last part forcefully when Allen had attempted to disagree, and any sign of arguing disappeared with the stern look on her face. "Now, someone is here to see you."
Allen nodded, and the nurse smiled before placing a hand on the exorcist's, feeling the pulse – Allen flinched, and the nurse recoiled.
"Allen?"
I'm fine.
"Allen," a familiar voice called out, and he was relieved to see it was only Komui; he looked tired and sleep deprived, his trademark hat gone and his glasses falling off of his face. Even his clothes seemed baggier then usual, and Allen was doubting the well being of the leader of Headquarters. Said leader walked over by the bed, trying to put on a supportive look for the boy lying in pain. "How do you feel?"
Forcing out some kind of word, Allen responded to the best of his ability.
"Fi – "
"For the sake of everyone's sanity, refrain from saying that, Walker," the nurse called out, and Allen watched through lidded eyes as she rearranged some vials in the nearby cupboard. What else was he supposed to say? He didn't want to worry Komui –
"Tell him the truth. You were tortured, Allen. No one expects you to be 'fine.'"
"But I am," Allen responded to both parties, but regretted it when his voice broke and he started coughing, his eyes shut tightly and his body curling into itself. If there was ever a time he wished for sleep – and the nightmares it brought – it was then. He heard someone sigh before a hand was placed on his forehead.
" – give him something to – "
"Yes, yes, but you need to leave now. And I order you to go to bed! You've been up for three days – "
"I have no choice – "
"Go, now. And tell Bak the same! You people are no help if you're sleep deprived! I'll make sure Lenalee ensures that as well. Go!"
Allen's coughing began slowing down, but the pain it brought was just beginning. His eyes were still tightly closed, but for some reason, all he could see behind his dark eyelids was the waved wall and the body of the voice he couldn't make out –
"Calm down, Allen."
Calm down? I don't know what's happening, or who it was –
"Don't worry about who it was. Right now, you should probably focus on staying alive."
Then it clicked.
Neah knew who it was –
He didn't get a chance to finish a coherent thought before something sharp was in his arm, and his body immediately straightened itself out as Allen tried to find the source of the jab of pain. He caught sight of the nurse standing over him, Komui gone and the door leaving an empty echo in its wake. The nurse looked caught between worry and anxiousness, and Allen had the urge to sigh – of course, his body wasn't responding, numb replacing ache – and before he could argue, the needle was out of his arm and reality was becoming nothing.
iv.
"He could have died!"
"I know, Lenalee, but there's nothing I can do now."
The office was cold and cast in an eerie atmosphere that didn't suit the five occupants. Three of the exorcists – Lenalee, Lavi, and Kanda – plus Bak and Komui were situated around the room. Bak was leaning against the wall beside Komui's chair, and Kanda, who was seated on the couch with the other two, could tell the man looked defeated. Even Komui was struggling to contain his disdain at the current situation, and Lavi was beginning to believe the Order was falling apart.
It wouldn't be surprising, but he had to document it without emotions.
Lenalee refused to cry, because crying really didn't get her anywhere. But she could feel the burning behind her eyes from the complete frustration at not being able to do anything about the piece of her world that was put through hell.
Again.
She was surprised that they had even caught a glimpse of Allen after what had happened, but they had.
"This isn't right! And no one even cared to tell me until today! He was gone for three days!"
"You needed your rest," Lavi said quietly, looking off to the side and away from the exorcist sitting in between him and Kanda. "And we weren't supposed to inform anyone. We weren't even supposed to know."
Bak coughed, his eyes scrunching up from the discomfort. Despite probing from the nurse, he was intent on staying as far away from the hospital as possible. He had more important matters to attend to, and although his hand was still sore, he'd get it checked out when he returned to the Asian Branch.
"Then how did you two find out?" Lenalee asked, glancing between the red head and the samurai. Kanda said nothing, his eyes closed and his arms crossed. Lavi sighed, and Lenalee noticed the dark circle appearing under his normally vibrant emerald eye. An awkward silence passed over, no one sure on how to answer the question – even Komui didn't know how Kanda had been the one to find out, and inform Lavi.
"This isn't right…" Lenalee muttered, placing her hands together over her chest. "It's wrong."
No one argued.
v.
Lavi had been shocked when he saw Allen return.
In some places, he couldn't tell where Allen began and the blood ended. They mixed together, but the blood shouldn't have been outside of his body. He was supposed to be impartial, but even Lavi couldn't stop the bubble of hate that erupted at the man that called himself an ally of the Order. Another stupid human, who was power hungry and paranoid.
He was surprised Bookman had not been present to record the Inquisition; he hadn't gotten a chance to ask the panda, either, not with the nurse anxious and stressed, reverting to locking the door as to not let the injured members out unless to go to the cafeteria or facilities – which, unluckily, included Lavi, along with Kanda and Link. After bombarding Komui with question after question, he had finally given up on getting answers, trying not to slip to Lenalee what was happening. The girl was more tense then usual, and although she didn't know where Allen was, Lavi had a feeling she had an idea – but refused to believe it.
He couldn't blame her.
Lavi knew it was bad when even Kanda was quieter and more agitated, which was something of itself. The stoic exorcist had diligently reminded them that he didn't care what happened to moyashi, but even Kanda couldn't deny that a fifteen year old kid going through torture was cause for worry. Link rarely talked to any of them, and Lavi had caught the blonde man running off on the first day that Allen had been taken in, and he figured it was to go talk to Leverrier. When he returned, he still had the expressionless mask on, as if nothing was different.
But Lavi was different, and he could tell that, underneath the strong exterior, Link was just a bit worried.
Hah, Lavi had found it disturbing. Even the dog is afraid.
Lavi had attempted to figure out what Central's ulterior motive was; even they had to agree using the Ark to save their top exorcists was priority, despite the rules. Why would they put Allen through the Inquisition?
But Leverrier had then taken Timcanpy, and the red head knew that Allen wouldn't be getting off easy.
But torture? Somehow, Lavi doubted that Central had agreed to that. And his thoughts based off that matter would be considered heresy, and he therefore kept it to himself – however, he was a bookman in training, and from training, he knew what to look for. Leverrier conspiring against the Order was unlikely, but Leverrier conspiring against Allen was highly possible. Would he go through any means necessary to obtain the results of his conspiracy?
Did Leverrier act on his own, without the consent from Central?
vi.
Seeing Allen in the state he was in wasn't something she was looking forward to, but at least he was alive, and for that much, she was grateful.
Lenalee couldn't be grateful for that man; that man, which had caused her more grief then she could recall, had harmed her brother, her friends. When she had finally managed to gain access that went past the outside of the hospital – her brother could be overbearing – she had found out that Allen was no where to be found, but was told not to worry. Coupled with the recent events – Ark, something with the Fourteenth, and general tension everywhere – Allen wasn't present.
He was taken.
She hated to believe it, because Allen had been through more then enough, yet they were putting him through more. Of course, she could have been completely wrong, overreacting. But judging by the expressions and constant worry, she couldn't put her doubts to rest. To see him beat up and breathing hard was something she would never be able to put to rest. How could someone even result to that? How could someone be able to handle dishing out the damage? Some kind of guilt must have plagued Central.
Again, the doubt.
After talking to Lavi about it – after seeing Allen, and finding out that he was stable for the time being – he had just shaken his head, attempting to reassure her.
And possibly himself.
"He'll be fine," Lavi had said. "He's been through worse."
Sure he has, Lenalee wanted to respond. But that doesn't mean he'll be all right.
After all, one can only take so much.
But until that day came, Lenalee vowed to do what she could, because she'd be beaten herself before she let someone else suffer under Central, especially a piece of her world.
vii.
He had grown up with Central, had served with them, and he'd never questioned their ways.
But upon seeing Walker's broken form only minutes after being released, the inkling of doubt he had forced and pushed and restrained to the farthest, darkest corners of his mind had resurfaced, quick and agile. Sure, he had seen what could happen when considered a traitor. He had seen the result of heresy, of treachery at its finest; but rarely had he seen someone so young suffer. Allen Walker, in his recordings, opinions, unbiased observation, was not a traitor – was possibly the least traitorous person he had witnessed.
Well, maybe not, but close enough.
Unbiased seemed to be becoming a very loose term with him, Howard Link realized. Unbiased was supposed to mean not favoring that who he watched; in this case, Allen Walker. He was supposed to observe and report, to watch for any signs that Walker was a threat – then why, in God's name, was he questioning his occupation, his assignment? Central was his support, Central was his loyalty –
It all fell back to Central.
Perhaps his latest musings stemmed from the completely unexpected torture Walker had been subjected to. After all, Link had been sleeping when Walker managed to sneak out of the hospital ward – how the kid managed to get away with no one knowing, Link had yet to figure out – and it wasn't until sometime that day that Lavi, of all people, had told him what happened; Walker had officially been sentenced and was probably undergoing that sentence as they spoke. A nod from the other exorcist present – Kanda – was the only other affirmation he needed. What confused him more, was that Link was not informed of the official sentencing. Yes, he was injured. Yes, he was supposed to be in the ward with the others who had returned from the God awful mission –
That was no excuse to be left out of something as important as the fate of his charge.
When cornering Leverrier later that day – who had blood on his hands, Link dutifully noted, and it wasn't long before it was pushed away – he had questioned respectfully, not sure on why he was so intent on getting answers that, surprisingly, did concern him. Technically, anything concerning Walker was his concern. It was by word of the man in front of him – when had this all become so complicated? Link wondered.
"He was deemed a possible threat."
By who? Link had to bite his tongue. Another sign he was slipping, and God help him if he was slipping.
"Do not worry, Inspector Link. Once the sentence is finished, you are to return to your duties. Understood?"
Nod, salute, watch as the man walks away. Why, why had it become so difficult to pledge loyalty?
He had seen the look on Walker's face when he had seen the spirit of the level five – and yes, Link had to admit, he was grateful he was not Walker – and he had seen the utter astonishment of everyone in the shattered room when the same demon had basically crushed Walker with a flick, for crying out loud. The kid could survive a hole in his heart – Link had been informed of that, obviously – and could survive multiple confrontations with the embodiment of evil, and his family that was just as sadistic – if not more so. And yet he had been beaten by a demon? It didn't seem right, and it was only when the demon started laughing that Link realized he didn't stand a chance. He couldn't hold something off of that level of power. Grabbing Walker – God, you can't seriously let him die here, what am I thinking? - he had positioned them in the safest place he deemed possible.
Some kind of rubble that barely worked as some kind of shield.
He could hear the fighting, the shouts, the terror. The room was cold, and Link was sure he'd never felt something like that before. When Walker actually breathed, maybe he felt relief. Relief that Walker was alive? Maybe. Unbiased? Becoming looser the longer he observed and reported. Then the kid decided to try and play hero again, despite the bodily injuries that should have destroyed him.
Then the world went black and any attempt to stop Walker was burned from his tongue.
While watching the Fourteenth connect with Walker – or maybe it was the other way around? – Link felt panic, a spot of panic that he shouldn't have felt. It happened fast, and despite his duty, he honestly thought for two seconds to store the information away.
Why?
He didn't care to know at that point, and truth be told, he was relieved when Walker called the Ark. Yes, it was against Central rules, but unless Central wanted their best exorcists dead, they could let it go – yet another, very large, sign he was slipping beyond belief.
God help him.
And after trying to tell that to the occupants of the meeting that was held, he saw Komui's gaze, the incriminating stare that alerted him to his slight obviousness towards Walker, and Link had vowed to stop being biased. He was an observer, a Crow, nothing more, nothing less, and nothing of equal value when it came to Walker, his charge, and charge alone.
Not friend, not comrade – well, the Order was supposed to be one large family, or something like that – just a possible traitor that was supposed to be watched constantly.
Try watching the kid stare at his reflection but not really seeing himself, suffer through the missions that left him beaten, all added on with being deemed a possible threat –
No. Stop, he chastised himself.
Finally, after being told by Leverrier indirectly that Walker was freed from his sentence, the worry that had been slowly eating away at him was gone, replaced with anxiousness at what the torture had done to him. Komui and Bak had gone to retrieve him, and the nurse had barked out orders that no one – including Link – were allowed to see him until they were sure he was stable.
The boy that could survive demons was also the boy that was breaking.
Howard Link was loyal to Central, because Central was the higher to the Order, and Central was what he had known his entire life.
Why was he beginning to question it? He dared not to know.
a/n: I apologize for the delay in updating! I rather give you chapters that are well written, not rushed, and during this hectic work period, the updating, I'm afraid, will be a bit farther apart. So please bare with me! I want to say the next chapter will be in another few days, but I can't promise anything right now. My assignments are first. I wish I could have made this chapter longer, but I didn't want it to go on and on. And I didn't put in any major, major cliffhangers like my first plan. That just wouldn't be nice. At all. Think of this as kind of a… filler. I really hope you all don't mind. It was either this or the next chapter – with a huge cliffie. (Curse you, school.) I'm sure I'm not the only one suffering this, so I hope you all understand. I really appreciate all the reviews, too! I'm glad to see so many people enjoying this story, and I'm really looking forward to next semester – it'll be easy, which means more time to write.
For the record, this story is not going on hiatus.
For the note on this chapter, I didn't put in Kanda's thoughts for a reason. It was hinted at through the others. Link's added part was for Accountless; I originally was unsure of whether to add his thoughts in or not, but since you requested, I thought – why not? And voila. I hope it clears up some of the confusion! And I really hope he's in character. I mean, he's a complicated person. Thank you for your review, as well! :3
And the "and so he did," at the end of the first two sections were intentional. Why? Well… that's for another chapter. 8D As is the dream. It shall all be explained in due time! Until that time arrives (or the next chapter gets out of my brain and onto my computer – I swear, I'm going to end up writing some plot line on my physics exam. Which, I'll fail either way, so maybe it'll give me bonus marks. No? …I can dream.)
Anyways, a few asked about the Christmas story (where Allen turns into a kid) that I had planned. It hasn't been cancelled – on the contrary, I've been planning it out, except it wont be Christmas. Instead, it'll be a long chapter story that I'm eager to write. When? After Judgement is finished. Why? Because this is my main muse, and I can't handle working on two chapter stories at the same time. My brain will fry – or I'll get confused on which goes where and my brain is a funny thing. But congratulations if you managed to get past all that! I'm sorry for my rambling (I do that a lot), and I hope to be back soon with the next chapter. Some one shots may be added in between projects, just to clear my head and take a break. Good luck to anyone who has to do exams as well, and to those who don't, or are working, or whatever the case may be, good luck during the beginning of the year! :3
