A/N: Thanks, as always, for your comments!

CHAPTER 12

Allen woke up for the third time ever since getting there, but it was the first time she could actually move. Before this, her time here had been filled by pain and nonsensical dreams that confused her mind. Opening her eyes, she tried to examine her surroundings, only to realize she lay in a bed circled closely by white fabric. The faint beeping of the machine that monitored her vitals confirmed that she had been taken to an hospital, as she had hoped when she had stumbled, half dead, upon this city.

Disliking the way her vision was blocked by the privacy screens, she forced herself up from the bed. It took more effort than she had expected, and pain punished her whole body, while fatigue urged her to return to the somewhat-soft bed and the warm comforter. She ignored the temptation and took a few steps away. Wincing at the pain in her arm, Allen noticed she was dragging the IV that slowly and steadily delivered some healing substance to her body. Figuring she had enough time here, she carefully removed the small curative from her arm, and then the needle placed inside it. Then she removed other wires that were also attached to her body, and one such removal made the monitoring machine beep loudly and continuously. She hurriedly unplugged it, and hissed at the pain the sudden movement caused.

Finally leaving her enclosed space, she realized she was inside a white room inside of which at least other five patients lay, also in privacy, behind curtains. It was very dark, but she could see well, thanks to the street lights that invaded the room through the glass of the sole window.

Allen tried to move her heavily bandaged arm. Doctors from small cities could hardly be expected to be able to take care of parasitic Innocence, and thus it had likely been treated as a normal limb would… that is, if the medical team had had the courage to do more than to wrap it tightly and hope the healing would happen by itself. To the white haired exorcist's surprise, the arm responded well, and was actually the part of her body that hurt the less.

The rest of her was still a wreck, however, and it was with very slow and hesitant steps that she made her way to the window.

She seemed to be in the second floor, and the street below one was one filled only by commerce. So late at night, however, it displayed no movement, every window closed, every light inside the buildings turned off. Not a soul could be seen nearby. Silence permeated the whole space, broken only by the monitoring machines of the other patients' and the occasional insects that made noise outside, buzzing around and insistently hitting the bright lights.

It should have been peaceful. It should have been the prelude of a night of restful sleep.

It wasn't, however. Instead, Allen's fingers trembled faintly, and she looked at every dark corner below with troubled eyes.

She was alone and hurt, and this was a small town, one she had entered notoriously, with faltering steps and dripping blood.

Everyone had to know an exorcist was here.

And as such, it felt like every shadow could have eyes. Any small movement could mean something was there, outside, waiting to strike. Detecting it with her eyes would do little to help if she couldn't defend herself. She would be an easy opponent to anything above a level one Akuma, and no flimsy hospital walls would keep her safe.

She tried to breathe, knowing it would not do to panic, but her last memories were of being almost killed in the forest, and then of realizing her home had truly been destroyed. Being alone now hurt not only because of the loneliness itself, but also because of the great danger it exposed her to. There was a reason for which lone exorcists almost did not exist. It was a death sentence, unless you hid well, were a remarkable fighter, and also had a fair dose of luck. Analyzing herself critically, she knew her strong point was usually that of blending with the crowd and disappearing easily, but even that had been ruined, now; luck did not accompany her, and she was still too young and unexperienced to merely march around provoking the enemy and fighting anything that challenged her.

She would have been better off with Kanda's crew, she knew, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth, but was also undeniably true.

I was an idiot, she thought, but then let out an irritated breath and tried to disperse the useless, self recriminating thoughts. What was done was done, and she would have never been able to stay there knowing her family could have been hurt. Moreover, they had left her alone. Kanda's ship was well known as a belonging of an exorcist organization, and she could have been attacked there as well as she could here.

Having regained her clarity of mind, she also decided she had to leave, and now. Allen didn't know for how long she had stayed unconscious, but she had had inexplicable good fortune to not have been killed until now. Perhaps there were no Akuma around, or they were weak and afraid of exorcists. Either way, she would not take her chances, anymore.

Allen made her sluggish way to the corridor and then descended the stairs. As she approached the reception and found nobody, she thought she would truly be able to leave unbothered. Alas, it wasn't to be, and it was as her hand touched the door handle that she heard a gasp and quickly turned around, her heart beating far too fast for her taste.

It seemed to be a nurse – A middle aged man, doing his rounds. He stared at her with some semblance of shock, and the words Allen wanted to say to him fled her mind.

"You are still hurt," the man then spoke softly, and it was a surprise when compared to the heavy reprimand Allen had expected to receive.

"I know," she whispered, and it sounded so loud in the silent hall that she almost winced.

He took another look at her form, and then said, "then go back to your bed."

Allen felt weak at that proposal – she wanted to, she was tired, and ached all over…

"I can't," she said weakly, in order to disperse the temptation that was starting once more to take over. It was dangerous. Everyone knew she was here They knew –

"Why not?" the man asked, approaching her. As he did so, there was a noise outside. In retrospect, Allen would think later, it could have simply been a street cat exploring the trash cans and allowing one of the metal lids to fall. But right then the noise made Allen jump and turn her eyes towards the outside with a frantic look, the paranoia seizing her by the throat and squeezing.

Hearing no more noise, however, she felt her heartbeat return to normal, and turned tiredly towards the kind nurse. "Mr. Colman?" she asked, having taken a quickly look at his nametag.

"Yes?" the man asked, still looking worried about her reaction.

"Have you ever seen an Akuma?"

That question was asked by Allen with the same quiet voice she had been using, but she could have very well shouted, as the man became rigid and pallid with fear as soon as he understood her words.

"N-no… I have not", he finally forced himself to say, as she stared at him pointedly, waiting for an answer.

"Let me go, then," Allen spoke quietly, "and perhaps you never will."

Nurse Colman stared at her with fearful eyes, before reluctantly turning them towards the outside, and she now saw in him the same fear the had just felt.

Allen saw the exact moment in which his shoulders drooped, his posture weak with resignation. She expected the man to simply turn and quietly leave, and was about to make for the door, when a hand was placed over her head.

She stared up in surprise, too shocked to do anything about the appendage that ran briefly through her white hair. The nurse's expression was sad, and he allowed his hand to fall, before turning away from her and resuming her rounds.

Inexplicably, his compliance with her request didn't make her feel any better.

Then, knowing her previous clothes had been utterly ruined and armed with nothing more than a white hospital shirt, light green pants and soft plastic shoes, she left the building and disappeared in the night.

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After speaking to the workers the nearby station and understanding that nobody with Allen Walker's name or characteristics had recently boarded a train, they started their travel to Rose Cross through the only other way: by foot, and through the dense forest.

"It would have been more sensible to follow the train tracks, or, better yet, to take the train. However, if she has realized what has happened to Rose Cross, as we suspect, I somehow feel she would wish to take the straight-line route… which is the exact same path we are going to take."

In any other situation, Kanda would have called it nonsense. However, he knew Walker wasn't exactly a sensible person, and was also very moved by her heart. It wasn't difficult to imagine her imprudently making her way alone through the dense forest, instead of waiting for a train like a normal person.

However, thinking about how he would react should he hear of the demise of his own group, it was easy to imagine himself acting exactly like her.

The past hours had been very troublesome for Kanda, what with actually starting to understand at least part of Walker's point of view and also knowing his actions what were caused this whole mess. That was why he marched furiously through the way Lavi indicated, stopping only occasionally, when they truly needed to take a rest. There was nothing around them but trees and rocks and dirt, scattered around randomly and stopping them from truly making a straight line. The whole deal should have been useless, if not for the fact that Lavi had the keenest eye for details; if Walker had left any signal of her travel behind, and if they happened to pass by, the younger exorcist would be sure to catch it.

"If she's passed by more than a day ago, then the rain has already ruined our chances to catch footsteps or other markings in the floor," Lavi had said, uncharacteristically solemn, but nonetheless staring carefully at the still damp earth.

And so their travel continued, and it was only halfway through that the redhead stopped, signaling for Kanda to come closer. The Japanese man did so quickly, and looked grimly towards the trees. The closest one had deep cuts inside of it, seemingly made by claws.

"Couldn't they have been made by some animal?" Kanda asked, even though he himself doubted that very much.

"No. This tree is almost falling over. The cuts also go far up, and don't have a pattern found in nature. We've found out first clue. Let's go on."

To the alarm of the two men, what had started with the damage found in one tree continued in a trail that indicated a ferocious battle. The claw marks were always present, but the forest had also been broken by fire, impacts of blunt force and occasional indications of explosions that even the heavy rain of the past night had not been able to clean away. Soon, the captain no longer needed Lavi's help in pointing the way, as the path of the recent fight was clear before his eyes. Their steps became more anxious and quickly became a run, as the vestiges of dark matter that stained the earth and killed the greenery started mixing with small remains of human blood.

"There were too many Akuma," he said to a shocked Lavi, as they got closer and closer to Rose Cross. "We can see too many different attack patterns. She has been attacked all the way to Rose Cross."

The other exorcist said nothing, clearly restraining himself from activating his own weapon. The travel grew more draining than ever, both to their bodies and their minds. Kanda didn't want to say it out loud, did not want to admit it even to himself, but he had stopped looking only for signals of the battle and started also to keep an eye out for a corpse. Lavi's nauseated expression indicated he was likely doing the same thing.

Eventually, the vestiges of the battle grew more and more sparse, and eventually died out, and they didn't know what to make of it – didn't know what that meant for Allen, whether it was an indication she had won, or lost.

Later, they found the ruined remains of the enormous organization, and took a silent moment to stare at it.

"It was… far larger than I imagined," admitted Lavi, looking solemnly at the sad remains of what had once been an impressive fortress.

"We are always vulnerable," said Kanda. "Let's remember this. We should never feel safe only because our numbers grow." He then turned his back to the crater. "Do you think… Walker managed to make her way until here?"

Lavi's lips tightened, and he looked as if he was angry at himself. "I don't know. I suppose we would have found her… her remains, if she had not."

"Then she did get here, got the answer she wanted. What then?" he asked Lavi as much as he asked himself. He had seen Walker in action, had also seen her speak a little of her beliefs, had seen her interacting with people. Still, she remained a stranger. Kanda couldn't claim to know her. He only knew she was a capable fighter, although burdened by too much compassion, too soft a heart. He knew she would risk her life for a stranger, even if that stranger was merely a civilian. He knew she thought her previous organization was like a family or sorts. He knew she could see souls. He knew –

The understanding came then, and made his heart heavy.

Yes, Kanda knew Allen Walker. Not all of her, but far more than he had thought.

And now he had to hope this knowledge wasn't going to become the memento of a gone person; he had to know whether he had sent that girl to her death.

"Lavi?" he asked tiredly, and realized the man's green eye had been upon him this whole time, looking somewhat surprised.

"Ah… I suppose if she hasn't collapsed here, then she must have made her way to Brarron. It's the nearest town. The region must be quite familiar to her," Lavi said, and his words were the most amiable he had said to Kanda ever since he discovered the man had kept the truth from Allen. Kanda didn't know what to make of it, nor did he want to. "I know where it is. Let's go."

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Two weeks later

Inside a large English city there was a clothing store. It was one of many, a popular one, in which most of the cheap pieces were displayed in large piles scattered around the room, with only the somewhat expensive garments placed in hangers for perusal. A small form, clothed in a simple green jacket and black trousers, perused one of the piles, looking for something that would fit her.

Allen had quickly left the city she had woken up in, after pilfering the clothes she now wore from a still closed store. She hadn't been proud of it, but all her money had been lost and the hospital clothes had been unfit to travel, not to mention too attention-calling. The mysterious story of the exorcist who appeared in Brarron and was hospitalized would end with an unexplained disappearance.

Allen would have felt more bothered about the stolen clothes and the unpaid hospital bill, if she hadn't been to preoccupied with keeping her own life.

Even then, she wouldn't fall into a life of robbery, if she could help it. As an exorcist, she actually could count with the help of the government, but didn't feel like exposing herself in such a way. Akuma lay everywhere, inside the skins of any sort of people, from street children to politicians in high positions. As such, she tried to earn some money, by trying to take on temporary jobs in the city's commerce. It took long to find a merchant who didn't dismiss her as a sickly child or a beggar, and she had managed to earn enough to buy food, if not shelter.

Allen had been through far worse before being taken by Cross, however, and endured the difficult times.

Still, even as she finally gathered enough money to buy new clothes and thus get herself out of her now filthy ones, she couldn't feel truly at peace. She examined piece upon piece and chose the somewhat better ones, the ones that fit her body and were of neutral colors, such as black, gray and brown. Her plan had been to disappear, to become insignificant in the middle of the crowd, and she had already managed to – she was now no more than what they called a street dweller, making only enough to survive and as unremarkable as a person could be in this society. Only very unlucky coincidence could bring Akuma to her metaphorical door, and the terror at the prospect of being suddenly attacked while still hurt had left long ago. Still, she couldn't find peace, and it wasn't only because of her deplorable living conditions.

Her problem was deeper than that.

Hadn't she promised herself she would find Rose Cross, hadn't she swore that upon the ruins of her past home? She had managed to find hope in the middle of despair. And yet, less than a month later, here she was, living a life almost as bad as the one she had when she was a young child: in the streets, with little to eat, invisible to most. She was not even killing Akuma, her Innocence now useless weight attached to her shoulder. It was like she had reverted back to the worst times of her life, and she felt disgusted at that, but didn't know how to make it stop.

She was no detective; Allen had no contacts of her own, no allies she could trust, that weren't from Rose Cross. The idea of starting an investigation on the end of which she would find her family was laughable – Rose Cross had always been an organization that could never be found unless it wanted to. Their base had fallen, yes, but that didn't make them incompetent. Her friends – the exorcists, the scientists, every single worker from the group – would likely hide better than ever before, now that they were in a state of fragility. No, there was no way Allen would be able to find them by herself. No matter how great her determination was, she couldn't fool herself into going into a hopeless journey when she knew very well Rose Cross had managed to evade the government, Akuma and the Earl himself for so many years.

But then, what to do? It wasn't like she could simply give up. And yet, if she couldn't find them…

She froze amidst her activity of choosing clothes, staring at one of the nondescript outfits she now had in hand, and felt the answer come to her. And it wasn't a pleasant one, but was certainly enlightening.

If she couldn't find them… then, they would have to find her.

Despite her occasional moments of sadness, Allen was sure, with all her heart, that she hadn't been abandoned by Rose Cross. She wanted answers, yes, but she also felt a great trust that they wouldn't leave her alone, not if they could help it.

And still, how could she hope to be found, when she insisted on becoming unremarkable, on disappearing as well as she could? They wouldn't, couldn't meet her, even if they wanted to, because Allen herself was making it difficult.

They were both hiding, the organization and Allen herself, and the white haired exorcist could understand their point of view, as they had almost been destroyed a little time ago. No, it was no fault of their own that they could not send her a signal. But that also meant that she would have to be the one to do so.

Allen dropped all the garments she had chosen back in their piles and left the store hurriedly. She would still change her clothes, yes, but she was looking for different, now.

Gathering all the money she had managed to earn and making her way to a different street, she uncovered her head, dismaying but at the same time relishing in the way people stared and whispered about her stark white hair and her scar.

It was time to leave the shadows she had always lived comfortably in.

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