Through Darkest Unknown
By:
SneakAttack29

Disclaimer:I don't own DGM! All rights go to their respective peoples.

Quick Author's Note: Okay, so I totally failed at this last time. It was like 3 am, I had just pulled an all-nighter (never do that when you have epilepsy, it's a bad idea), and wrote the whole of the last chapter on my phone. Not one of my smartest moments. HOWEVER, this is just as short, but was written in what I'd like to consider a more proper manner after the author had some blessed sleep. So.

Also, I went back and made a correction on the dates that I mentioned in last chapter. I was rewatching DGM, and in episode 6, during the sequence involving Leo's mother, it shows her gravestone. The date of death is 1851. I never noticed this before, and I think I'm not alone in assuming that the rough date range of "end of 19th century" meant more around the 1880s. However, because of the date showin in the anime, I'm changing the timeline of TDU to be in the 1853-54 range.

Also, this is a timeskip of 3 months from the last chapter. The first handful of chapters are going to be brief, as the whole of the story is going to revolve more around how Emily plays into things with the war. I'm trying to show bits of how her and Allen's relationship develops, but truthfully, that's not the showcase of TDU that I'm trying to convey. That, my friends, is to be revealed later.

Well, without further ado as this ado is already long enough, ENJOY!


Chapter 4: Reality


"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality."

-Yoko Ono


"No," she hisses with a glare.

"Do you—"

"Don't you dare."

"C'mon, Emily!"

"I mean it, Allen Walker! Don't you dare!"

A moment of silence sweeps through the Ark's Piano Room, when…

"…Do you have any 5s?"

Emily Huntington shrieks in frustration, all but throwing the two cards remaining in her hand at the white-haired boy sitting across from her. Said boy is smiling serenely behind neat rows of matched cards. One could almost say innocently, but after this particular escapade, Emily considers herself enlightened to the demon within. "How is this even possible?! This is the tenth time! Tenth, Allen! It's Go Fish! No one is this lucky at Go Fish! It's chance! What are you doing?! You have to be doing something!"

Allen looks only slightly like he's trying not to laugh at her as he sets the remaining set of four cards to join the rest on the strip of floor between them. A line of bare tile separates their individual spoils—four stacks of cards on Emily's side while his contains a winning number of nine. The redhead almost looks as if she could foam at the mouth any minute, and Allen is only half grudging to admit that seeing the normally reserved and quiet girl so riled is honestly adorable. She's too unimposing for her anger to actually have any weight. In all honesty, she appears more as a pup flailing claws than like a bear gnashing teeth.

In summary: Cute. Her hissing is cute.

There. He said it. Now the thought can move on with its life.

"I'm just playing the game!" he chirps, further amused when her oceanic glower harshens.

"Bull," she mutters, swatting a few copper curls aside that had escaped from their confines atop her head. She slouches where she sits, arms crossed over a quickly wrinkling, electric yellow shirt with "Mountains are not funny, they're hill-areas" scrawled across the front in blocky black letters. Allen had already numerous times that night given her withering looks over the pun, but she just grinned in response every time. In truth, the only reason the wordplay annoyed him was because it had taken him a few minutes for the pun to click. Emily swore she's never going to let him live it down, and the exorcist believes her. He's found in the past three months of knowing her that the girl is very dogged when she wants to be.

"I am though," he insists as he begins gathering up cards.

His companion merely glares at him in obvious disbelief. "Uh huh." While Allen busies himself with cleaning up their attempt at a friendly card game, Emily picks herself up from the cold Ark floor and meanders over to the sofa along the wall of the very sparsely decorated piano room. Allen won't tell her much about this room, only that it is sort of a "command center" for the whole Ark. He still hasn't told her much about that, either, though she has gotten the rundown of the Black Order, exorcists, Innocence, Akuma, the Noah, and that the Ark came to be in the Order's possession through a series of events in Tokyo…er…Edo.

Oh, yeah, and she's also learned that Edo is practically gone.

No history book she's ever read made any reference or hint to such a thing, and she's read a lot of them. More so now that she's aware that when she dreams, she's in some version of the past.

Well, an interdimensional pocket in some version of the past.

Gah, her head hurts…

Allen frowns up at the girl when she makes a strangled noise of frustration. She's plopped back unceremoniously on the sofa, face buried in her arms and legs canted over the edge. "Emily?" The girl in question huffs but lifts her arms enough so that she can peek at the exorcist from their corners.

"If I fell asleep wearing my backpack, do you think it and anything in it would make the trip with me?"

He blinks, the question taking him off guard a bit. "I…suppose? I guess I don't see why it wouldn't…" Much as he doesn't want to admit it, it could also be a good thing. With each visit, Emily has been staying longer. Now, three months later, she's in the Ark from the second her mind slips to dreams to the minute she's woken in the mornings. No thirty minute blurbs here and there. Emily mentions it's abnormal to dream like that, but Allen just points out that appearing physically in another dimension in another time when dreaming isn't exactly normal, either.

A pause at his statement, and then she nods. "That's what I thought. I may bring some schoolwork with me tomorrow, if I can. Might as well use the extra time to knock some projects out of the way, right?"

"What?" He asks, trying to act serious but failing miserably. "You don't want to be around me anymore?" She rolls her eyes at him, well aware that he's only teasing her as he's become fond of doing in the last few months.

When they got so comfortable with each other despite the dance of caution, neither of them will ever know.

Emily swats a hand towards where he now sits reclined against the edge of the sofa. "Oh, of course not. You're horrible company. Do nothing but consistently win at Go Fish." Allen laughs heartily, reaching his right hand up to poke at her cheek.

"You just need to play better!"

"Allen!"

"Emily!"

Molten silver and ocean blue stare unblinking at each other, a race to see whose resolve crumbles the fastest. Cracks appear in a few places. Chips clatter soundlessly to the ground. Tick…tick…tick!

And with a final twitch of the lips, the two teenagers break down into fits of laughter. Allen doesn't remember the last time he felt so free. He's trying to be cautious—really, he is. But there's something about Emily that just invites relaxation. There's something about her that just screams "It's okay!" For the first time in a very, very long time, the exorcist doesn't feel the need to hide behind a mask of anything, to be strong, to be infallible. For the first time in a very, very long time, Allen can just be Allen. It shouldn't be refreshing, but it is. And he is grateful for it.

Or, he is, until a scoff echoes through his head. The smile on his face drops quickly after that, eyes sliding closed so he doesn't give in to the urge to look over at the window where the sound emanated. Of course, as with anything, the second he seems to be having a relatively good time forgetting about him, the 14th comes nosing his way back into the picture. Of course.

He isn't expecting the gentle hand falling on his bowed head. "Allen?" His head jerks up and he's looking again into blue eyes. However, instead of fighting back laughter, they are filled with questions and concern.

And also, far closer than he'd intended.

Blushing furiously, the boy jumps back a bit, glancing off to the side. A sliver of the 14th makes its way to his vision, but he's still summarily avoided, for the most part. "A-ah! S-sorry!" He misses the girl's frown.

"Are you okay?"

He tenses for just a moment before turning back to her with a pasted-on grin. "Yeah! Of course! Just zoned out a bit, is all."

"You're lying," she says bluntly, not missing a beat. "You're too tense, you're favoring your left arm for gestures, and your level of eye contact is disproportionately prominent." Allen winces, having almost forgotten she does this.

Muttering petulantly, the boy glances absently down at his malformed left hand. "You're scary observant sometimes, Emily." The slim hand that had been on his head suddenly falls to cover his knuckles, startling him. Beyond her initial reaction when she first noticed it, Emily isn't afraid of or disgusted by his arm. It's something he still has a bit of a hard time believing.

The girl is quirking a red brow at him. "Stop avoiding the question. What's wrong?"

Allen has to squeeze his eyes closed to try drowning out the disembodied snickering. Aware of his distress despite not knowing the cause, Emily's fingers clench firmly around where they're resting on his own in an attempt to either draw him out of it or reassure him that he is not alone.

Not that he can ever truly be alone in the Ark. Or anywhere that has a reflective surface, really.

The 14th's whispers, despite Emily's attempts, only seem to get louder. Jives and jeering, broken sentences and threats against people he cares about float through only to be heard by his ears. What of the Noah's consciousness that has awakened isn't very cognizant yet, or at least doesn't appear to be. The shadow is loose and can barely form true sentences of much complexity. However, when it does, what it tries to whisper makes Allen sick, the implications behind the utterings.

Kill someone he loves, is what Cross said. Kill someone he loves. How could he do that? The 14th hisses a few more words, poorly formed. Kill someone he loves.

Kill someone he loves.

Kill someone he loves.

"Allen!" Emily's voice combined with her hand on his jaw forcefully turning his face to look at her jars him out of whatever hole he'd allowed his consciousness to fall through. He must look terrified at the thought—which he is—because the girl leans forward with her other hand to cradle his head and keep it steady. "Hey, c'mon, look at me. You're okay." He feels her thumb catch something, and he's startled when he realizes it's a tear.

He flounders for a few moments, trying to find words. "E-Em…" The girl's face cracks a hint of a smile.

"Hey, there you are!" Her small quirk of the lips turns into a full-on lopsided grin. "Thought you'd gone all space cadet on me, there."

"…Space cadet…?"

She blinks. "Yeah…uh…don't worry about it, it's another expression. You spaced on me. Where were you?"

Allen flinches, something not unnoticed by the futuristic seventeen-year-old. Heaving herself up so she's sitting, she slides down next to the boy on the floor to give herself a more comfortable vantage point. "You can tell me. I know you haven't known me very long, and I know that the circumstances are weird. But, Allen, you're not alone. If you want to talk, you can talk to me. No one would believe me if I told them anything, anyway." He pauses. The last part is tossed in as a half-joke, but it's true. He knows she won't say anything to anyone and knows it would be pointless if she did. She's shown him enough proof of her origins in the odds and ends she's dragged through to the Ark with her in her sleep, accidentally and otherwise in experiments. He's fairly trusting of her at this point. He doesn't really think she's working for the Earl, at any rate.

The caricature in the windowpane laughs again, a dare in a piercing howl that makes his mind up for him.

"Do…do you remember when I told you about the Earl and the Noah? Well…"

And he tells her. He tells her everything he can about the Musician, tells her of Cross, tells her of Mana, even. He tells her everything. He bares his past to her, and she listens with rapt attention. She pokes in a question here and there when she needs clarification on something, but she listens. She doesn't run, she doesn't do the logical thing and recoil in fear. She listens. And he is selfish enough to let her. Eventually, one of them—he's not sure which—ends up leaning on the other for support, and that is how they spend the rest of the night—with him speaking and her listening until she vanishes from the Ark after the resonance of her alarm from her waking world.

When she's gone, Allen leans his head back against the couch, wondering why things suddenly seem bereft.

When she wakes, Emily lays blankly in her bed a few moments, drowning in the screech of the clock across the room.

And in that moment, hundreds of years and thousands of miles apart, both Emily Huntington and Allen Walker break down and cry.


Final Words: Alright! There we have it.

So, I have my reasons for skipping over a lot of stuff here, but I would also like to know from you readers if there's any interactions between Allen and Emily that you would like to see, specifically. Now that he's told her about the 14th, I shouldn't be skipping a chunk of time like that again, though I'm more than happy/up to the challenge of crafting any scenes your little hearts desire.

Well, R&R!
~Sneak