There was an iron-tight grip on Allen's right hand, so strong that it was almost uncomfortable. That was the very first thing that Allen was aware of as he rose from unconsciousness. He flexed his fingers a little, trying to get the grip to loosen so he could get feeling back into his numb extremities.
"Allen?" A feminine voice asked, and the grip tightened to just over the threshold of unbearable, before unclenching into a gentle, weightless caress.
Allen sighed, and opened his eye to stare at the clean, obsessive white of the hospital ceiling. They were becoming very well acquainted, he thought grumpily. He wished that they would stop meeting in this way-he didn't actually enjoy falling into comas. Even if that last one had been a rather convenient escape.
He turned to look at Lenalee, who was staring at him with a look of weary fondness. "Hey." He croaked out, and let out a soft groan, tugging at the hand that Lenalee was still holding. She let it go easily, and he drew his arm across his eye, scrubbing away the sand collected there. "How long was I…"
"Three days." Lenalee responded quietly, and then there was a clinking noise. When Allen looked up again, she was holding a glass cup of water. "Come on, sit up. You need to drink something."
Allen agreed with that statement, wincing at the rawness of his throat, and gingerly pushed himself, one-handed, so he was sitting with his back to the pillow. That's when he noticed, however, that his Innocence was still attached to his shoulder. He'd honestly expected it to be gone by the time he woke up, and he wasn't necessarily sure whether or not it still being there was a good thing. It was hard enough dealing with the loss of his Innocence when he hadn't watched it get taken away; he wasn't certain how he would react when conscious.
"My Innocence is still…" Allen trailed off, looking at Lenalee questioningly.
"Yeah. We...didn't want to destroy it while you were still sleeping." Lenalee grimaced a little. "Allen, I wanted to apologize. We all reacted really poorly when we figured out you could talk to your Innocence, and we shouldn't have." She looked away, bitter and aged beyond her years. "It doesn't even matter anymore. The war is over."
Allen reached out and patted her wrist, smiling at her reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry for freaking out-I hadn't even realized it was a big deal before you told me."
They grinned at each other in easy companionship, and for the first time something warm and comfortable that had been missing from all their interactions until now clicked into place. Allen had missed her dearly, unable to separate the sensitive, emotional exorcist in his head from this hardened war hero in front of him. It was nice to realize that she was still there, albeit buried beneath layers of armor. It would take a while to get used to, but friendship seldom quick or easy.
"Do you mind if I remove your Innocence now?" Lenalee asked quietly, breaking into the calm with an apologetic look. "The Order gets more and more nervous the longer you keep it."
Allen grimaced a little but nodded, knowing better than to argue-after all, she'd never said it outright, but Lenalee was determined to try and give all the ex-exorcists more of a life than being a puppet for the Black Order. Which meant no more Innocence. This was okay for some of them, Kanda and Miranda to name a few, but Krory (who was still getting used to his dentures) and Allen (who, well. Was missing an arm) were certainly worse off.
"Can I at least say goodbye?" He asked.
Lenalee looked like she wanted to ask questions about that, no doubt still curious about Crown Clown and his' communication. But she quickly schooled her expression and nodded solemnly, so Allen had to give her points for that.
He closed his eye, nudging his Innocence from its slumber. He hadn't been able to say a proper goodbye last time, and wanted to remedy that now. Despite the fact that the Innocence wasn't exactly human, it still had been the closest thing he'd had to a friend for the first six years of his life. There'd been a time when his Innocence was the only thing he ever talked to, which...might actually explain his state of mind regarding the Akuma.
The Innocence let out a sleepy rumble. ?
Allen sent it a wordless picture of his empty stump, even as he could hear Lenalee moving around to his other side. Then he gently passed along more feelings-happy to be together, but a bittersweet farewell. And...he found that, surprisingly enough, these feelings were more honest than he would have liked. He was used to losing people...or rather, as an exorcist, he had come to terms with the possibility of losing his loved ones at any moment.
But losing his Innocence was different. For the first six or seven years of his life, Allen had been a young circus brat who was seen as cursed by God-and because he'd been young and impressionable, he had believed it. He had believed that something was wrong with him, and so even when people had tried to reach out to him, he had pushed them away, with sharp, biting words that hurt him as much as the other person. The one constant had been the calming presence at the back of his mind, the one that had kept him from doing things he would've seriously regretted later in life. Even if he hadn't known the name of that guiding presence at the time, his Innocence had still been there, when no one else was.
And then Allen and the Innocence had come to fight together, to be companions in battle as well as real life. They had understood each other, as only two people with intentions perfectly aligned could. And now...now it was time to say goodbye.
The Innocence didn't respond for a second, and in that moment Allen thought it wouldn't say anything at all, which he'd half expected. His Innocence had always been a thing of few words. But then suddenly a series of very powerful images bombarded his mind, and he gasped, bending over his knees.
Allen gasped in pain as Tyki's hand retreated from his chest-
"The Innocence filled the hole in your heart-"
"Allen!" Lenalee shouted, startling him out of the images, her touch firm but ever-so-slightly shaky on his shoulders. Judging from the panic in her voice, she'd been trying to get his attention for a while. "Allen, what's going on?"
Allen reached out blindly, and Lenalee hurried to grasp his hand in her two smaller, colder ones. It took him a moment to sort through everything, but once he did, he finally looked up at his distressed friend. "It's-it's okay." He was half trying to convince himself, though. "It-my Innocence just got worried. Listen, you can remove the Innocence arm, but is there any way you can keep from pulling it out of my heart?"
For a second Lenalee just stared blankly at him, evidently not connecting that statement with the relevant memories. But when she did-and she did very quickly-her eyes flew open so wide that Allen could see the tiny veins and capillaries in her whites. "Oh, I-I forgot. I'm-" She let out a shaky laugh, releasing his hand so she could push her own through her hair. "I'm really, really glad I waited for you to wake up. That could-that could've been really bad."
Allen would've laughed himself, if only to reassure Lenalee that he had forgiven her even though she had almost killed him, but he was too busy trying to think around the headache his Innocence had caused. He grimaced and ground his fingertips into his temples, despite the fact that his Innocence arm had the grip of God, and he could very possibly accidentally brain himself if he wasn't careful.
"Yeah." He responded finally, and heaved out a sigh. "Let's just...get this over with. I need some sleep." And he needed a stiff glass of whiskey, but as he was still underage, just the sleep would have to do. He had no idea what all the other exorcists were going on about when they said that Parasite types were 'special'-the only special thing about being a Parasite type, as far as he could tell, was that it meant more headaches. Literally.
Lenalee nodded, but she still had to take another steadying breath or two before finally reaching out to grasp Allen's arm. Obviously nearly killing Allen was affecting her more than it was affecting him, possibly because he was used to near-death situations.
He did not expect losing his Innocence to hurt so much, but he supposed that he should have, considering his track record. But when Lenalee started the separation-and he could feel it, the minute she did-he accidentally grabbed onto her wrist with his free arm, squeezing so hard he could hear her bones creaking like rustling branches in the wind.
She paused, wincing. "Allen?"
"It's-" He panted heavily, and slowly tried peeling his fingers from her arm, which was more difficult than he had anticipated. "I'm-I'm sorry, it's just…" He finally managed to release her, and then let his hand creep up so it was resting on his Innocence. "Do you think you could-get something I can put between my teeth?" He did not say that he also wanted someone's hand to hold onto, because he was not a child, but he thought that request very strongly. The feeling of one's arm being slowly disintegrated into nothing, that was...hard to put into words.
Lenalee thought about that for a second, then nodded decisively. "I'll get Kanda."
Five minutes later, Lenalee reappeared with the scowling Kanda following in her wake. How she had managed to convince him to come along, Allen didn't know, because the ex-general had obviously not come along willingly, judging from that thunderstorm resting on his forehead. However he was holding a belt in one hand, which made Allen shiver a little, already knowing what it was for.
"Beansprout, if you bite through my belt," Kanda began threateningly, "I'll kill you."
"Kanda…" Lenalee sighed in a long-suffering as she settled down next to Allen.
Surprisingly enough, Kanda settled down on Allen's other side as he handed the younger teen the belt. "And if you break my fingers, I'll kill you a second time."
Allen shot Lenalee an alarmed look, wondering what on earth she had promised-or threatened-Kanda with to get him to hold his hand. And he really wasn't certain he liked the idea of showing Kanda any weakness at all, considering he wasn't entirely sure where the ex-general stood on this whole Noah business. "Uh...that's not really necessary-"
"Don't be stupid, Allen." Lenalee cut in primly, flicking her short bangs to one side. "Sorry, but I don't want you crushing my wrist. I kind of need that wrist."
Allen stared at her, and she stared defiantly back, her head tilted up with the kind of determination he used to see only when her friends needed saving. It seems that determination had spread to every part of her life, and she now wielded it with terrifying efficiency.
He'd been searching for his friend for ages, trying to find where the old Lenalee ended and the new Lenalee began. It seems that he'd been looking too hard in all the wrong places.
"Okay." Allen said, letting his wary tension drain away into a fond smile. He leaned back onto his pillow, and jammed the belt between his teeth, before reaching for Kanda's hand. There was a second of hesitation as Kanda just stared at him, though, looking...surprised about something? "What?" He got out, though it was garbled around the belt.
"Nothing." Kanda muttered, shaking his head, and grabbed Allen's hand. "Are we going to do this or not?"
Allen felt himself pale a little, and glanced over at Lenalee, who smiled encouragingly, already reaching for his Innocence. He took a deep breath, and then turned his head over his shoulder, resting one side of his face against the pillow. Kanda gently squeezed his hand, and Allen responded by tightening his grip, but not so much that it was uncomfortable.
That would come later.
Lenalee began the process again, and he once more felt his arm disintegrating, piece by piece from the base of his fingertips.
And then there was nothing but pain.
Allen did, in fact, end up breaking some of Kanda's fingers. However, the fact that Kanda was being so decent about the whole thing made it about twenty times worse. If Kanda had punched him in the face, then maybe he wouldn't feel quite so guilty, but the ex-general just waved away his apologies. In fact, he seemed more irritated about being in a cast for three months, than he was about about Allen having caused the damage in the first place. Which made absolutely no sense, considering this was Kanda Yuu, who had hated him even before he had become a Noah.
"I'm pretty sure he still feels guilty about stabbing you." Komui said knowingly as he rewrapped the bandage around the stump. Apparently his Innocence arm's absence was more of a problem than he'd originally assumed-it had taken a chunk out of his shoulder, and some more important stuff besides. The fact that it was his left side, and so close to his heart therein, made everything about fifty times worse.
"But that was years ago." Allen said, squinting at Komui from over his shoulder, trying to figure out whether or not the man was joking. Certainly he must be, because there was no way Kanda still felt guilty about stabbing him. That was almost a decent thing to do, and everybody knew that Kanda didn't do decent. "Did you threaten him or something?"
Komui patted the bandage, making sure it was secure, all the while giving Allen a mock-chiding look. "Now Allen. Just because Kanda is being nice doesn't mean we threatened him. What kind of people do you take us for?"
The right answer to that question, in Komui's mind anyway, completely coincidentally, paired up with the lie to keep Komui happy. Allen however decided to take the high road, and did not lie or answer at all; instead he fixed the scientist with a deadpan stare that spoke volumes.
"Listen, Allen, I genuinely have no idea what's up with Kanda." Komui said, scratching his black hair and turning away. "But it seems to me that he's changed a lot from the person you knew him to be. Maybe he's just matured, or something."
That was a very, very strange thought; for some reason, Allen had never imagined Kanda getting any wiser. He'd honestly expected Kanda to be excessively grumpy till the end of his days, shaking his cane at kids who did nothing wrong. This...for lack of a better word, mellowing, seemed so strange and out of character to Allen that it made his head spin.
So instead, Allen asked, "When can I go see Lavi?"
From what he'd heard, Lavi had woken up essentially the day after Allen had destroyed the parasite keeping him unconscious. He didn't know much else, though, like if Lavi was still sane after all this time, or if he remembered anything at all from his two years in a coma. Allen honestly would've preferred the latter, and not just because he wanted his friend sane; he was looking forward to not being the only confused person anymore. He wanted someone to talk to, to try and sort all of these changes out without being treated like an idiot. Whenever he tried to ask the others, they just shrugged, or told him that it didn't matter, when it really did. He needed to know.
He'd missed….he'd missed whole years of their life. How could that be unimportant?
Komui sent him a side-eyed look, eyes almost...sheepish? "Whenever you're feeling up to it. Though I have to warn you, we haven't talked about you to Lavi yet, so he may be a little surprised to see you."
Ah, that did explain it.
"I understand." Allen said, and he did. Because when he'd first woken up, there had been so much stuff to tell him that the information had been spread over a span of three days. It was only on the third day that he had been informed of Cross's status as Not Dead, which had been...not very good. Allen had been furious that they'd saved that tidbit till the third day, but when he got over his anger, he had admitted that it had been a decent plan. He'd been so relieved about his Master's survival that he'd been too distracted to focus on anything else. "Can I see him now?"
He was going a bit stir-crazy, to be perfectly honest. There was only so long one could spend cooped up in a hospital room before they started losing their minds, and Allen had never been very stable to begin with.
Komui looked as though he wanted to argue, probably because Allen had missed a lot of Physical Therapy sessions after reviving Lavi, and his muscles were still pretty weak. But then he must have remembered that a stir-crazy Allen meant a bored Allen, and a bored Allen never did anyone any good. So instead he sighed and said, "Let me get your wheelchair."
At least the wheelchair allowed him some dignity-being carried around was just embarrassing. The Science Department were geniuses-they had managed to create a wheelchair that could be controlled by a panel near his only arm, which as far as Allen knew was well beyond that capabilities of an iron carriage.
When Allen finally wheeled himself into Lavi's room, he was met with a sight that was...less than reassuring.
His friend was...staring out the window, at the rain pattering against the panes, more still than Allen had ever seen him before. There was a feeling about him, and in the room, that felt somewhat dreamlike, not quite tangible enough to be reality. Grey shadows splashed across Lavi's sharp cheekbones, his thinness standing out all the more because of the pajamas he was practically drowning in.
Allen, stricken, stared at his friend, and wondered how long he'd been sitting there, just...watching the rain. It'd obviously been a long time; there was no other way to achieve such an intense feeling of desolation, such a sacred silence that nothing dared touch. He wondered if this was another stranger he'd have to relearn, another friend whom he no longer recognized.
He wondered why he'd hoped it would be any different.
"Hey, Lavi." Allen said, a little weakly, and wheeled himself over the threshold.
Lavi came alive in such a startling and sudden way that Allen nearly fell out of his wheelchair. He whipped around, single eye enormous, face a study of disbelief and something that almost looked close to wary hope. "A-Allen!?" Then his eye caught sight of the wheelchair, and his entire face dropped like a stone.
Allen almost couldn't keep up with the dizzying emotions, until he realized that Lavi was now staring at his wheelchair as though it had kicked his puppy. He knew how the wheelchair made him look-like there was something more wrong than his muscles simply atrophying-and he also knew how that might worry some people. That, he could understand.
"I'm okay!" He said quickly, kicking aside the footrests and pushing himself to his feet, pleased with his mostly steady balance. "Just-my muscles can't really support me anymore, and being carried is really embarrassing."
"Oh thank God." Lavi's relief was so raw that Allen almost had to look away. "You won't believe the day I'm having-Kanda was actually not an ass to me, and-"
"Lenalee has turned into basically a different person-"
"Cross is alive-"
"The war is over, I can't believe it, it's so-"
"Weird! Right? And-"
They stopped, and stared at each other.
"The Fourteenth won." Allen said quietly, and managed to keep too much of his bitterness from bleeding into his voice. "He killed the Earl, and then dropped my body at the Order. That was after a year and a half, though. There's so much I missed…"
"The Noah put a parasite in my head that kept me from waking up." Lavi responded in the same tone, the one that so obviously carried a heavy weight and was pretending that it wasn't. "I spent two years in a coma, and by the time I woke up, the war had ended."
They stared at each other for a second longer.
Finally, Lavi let out a soft laugh that sounded a million miles away from humor. "We're quite the pair, aren't we."
Allen let himself drop back into his wheelchair, and carefully began making his way over to Lavi's bed. He snorted, and rolled until his knobby knees bumped into the side of his friend's mattress, wincing on contact. "You can say that again. We even have matching eyes, now." Lavi snorted darkly at that, thin shoulders shaking with mirth.
He eyed his friend's slim frame, feeling worry building like bile in his stomach. "How long is your physical therapy expected to take?" His was projected to last just over six months, and he could barely walk without assistance right now. Lavi hadn't moved for two years…
Lavi grimaced, and reached out with one shaking arm to rub at his leg, his wrist almost skeletal it was so thin. Once again a touch of desolation graced Lavi's face, twisting his mouth until it was a wry, bitter smile. "I'm...expected to to be able to use a wheelchair after a month. And I'll stay there, for a year or so. Depending on how well my physical therapy goes."
That would explain it. Allen shut his eyes, and for the first time was thankful that the Noah had taken him over, rather than let him rot for all that time. He knew himself, and if he had to spend too long trapped in a chair with one arm and one eye, he would've killed himself. There was only so much he could handle.
Lavi would...survive, he thought. His friend wouldn't be very happy, but as long as he was kept supplied with ample books and was allowed to travel, he would be...okay. Eventually. Allen would make sure of that; he would stay with his friend for as long as he needed him, and they would get better, together. They would look fucking ridiculous traveling together, the wheelchair pair, but they could make a joke of it.
"Are you okay?" Allen asked, opening his eye again, just to confirm what he'd already been thinking.
Lavi hesitated for a moment-and that hesitation was so telling, so much more telling than any words-and said, "I'll be okay. But you know, the Bookman-he left this morning. He said he had stuff to do in Europe." He said stuff like it was poisonous, looking so much more bitter than before, and Allen knew what he was thinking, because he'd thought it himself.
Useless, his mind supplied, words burrowing into the weakest parts of himself and going deep, stabbing. He left you behind, just like everyone else is going to. You're trapped in this damn wheelchair, wasting away like a fading memory, and one day they're just not going to care anymore.
"No!" Allen shouted, and Lavi jumped and turned, startled about the sudden, vehement interjection. "No, don't you-you-" Allen cursed Bookman in his head, as this was definitely not the best time for a European sabbatical. Lavi needed him, dammit. "You're not useless, Lavi, the Bookman has never thought that. You should've seen how he was before you woke up-he looked like he'd aged a hundred years, and-" Allen let out a frustrated noise, and punched his wheelchair, unable to articulate himself properly.
Lavi didn't even question the fact that Allen had apparently mind-read the reason for his sudden depression straight out of his head. Instead he gritted his teeth and looked away, as though trying to carve any weakness from his facial expression, before saying, "He obviously doesn't need me anymore if he's gone without me. I knew you were idealistic, Allen, but he-"
Allen reached for a reason as to why the Bookman might have left, especially just after his beloved apprentice had just woken up. If it was Cross, he could just make the excuse that his master had gotten bored of all the drama and decided to go celebrate the war by fucking anything with two legs. However that wouldn't work with Lavi, considering A) Cross already thought Allen was a useless apprentice, and therefore that excuse was absolutely believable, and B) the Bookman didn't actually enjoy the same delicacies as Cross, and actually cared for his apprentice.
But what reason did the Bookman have to leave? He didn't...actually think that his apprentice would drag him down, did he?
No, that was stupid. Even if the Bookman found Lavi useless at this point, which was probably true, considering the months of physical therapy, he still cared about his apprentice. Bookman would know that at this moment, Lavi needed his support more than he needed anything else, including 'space', or whatever the man had in mind. There was something Allen was missing about this, though what it was-
Allen put himself back a few days, when he'd first been deposited into the room by Marie. He remembered the Bookman's haggard expression, his gaunt face and his….
Ah. It was probably because-
"I know that….the Bookman had been neglecting a lot of things, because he was staying in the Order." He murmured, thinking it through even as he was speaking-because he remembered the words the Bookman had said, I've been here too long. Perhaps he had not been speaking of being in one place too long, but of avoiding his duties for too long. "Two years he spent looking for a cure for you. Maybe...maybe he couldn't help it."
And that-that seemed to mean something to Lavi, judging from the way his eye got big, and it looked as though he were going to fall off the bed in shock. Which was…actually a little worrying, considering Lavi's body was too weak to handle much more than being propped up in bed. "He's been at the Order for two years?" He hissed.
"Um…" Even if Allen had sort of been going for a reaction, he was startled by the vehemence of it. "That's what Komui said…."
Lavi slumped back against the bed, his posture abruptly losing all of its tension. "He….he waited for me?"
Allen smiled reassuringly, despite the fact that he didn't really understand why this was such a big thing. But it seemed to help Lavi. "Yeah. He wouldn't leave you for no reason."
Lavi was very quiet for all of two seconds, before he sudden lashed out his fist against one of his legs. "Stupid, useless legs-" He growled, even as Allen began to hobble to his feet, alarmed. "I have to follow him, dammit-"
"Lavi, stop." Allen commanded in a shaking voice, and when he caught his friend's wrist he nearly fell over at the force of it. Luckily Lavi's muscle atrophy kicked in a second later, because he dropped his arms, breathing heavily. "He doesn't think you're useless, don't you see-"
"This is almost worse!" Lavi shouted, pushing Allen away. He fell to the floor, and gritted his teeth as something cracked. He was still pretty weak, and it was way easier to break bones now-he hoped he would just have bruises. "He-he wasted two years in this place when he could've been doing his job like he was supposed to! I wasted two years of fucking history and I can't even follow him!"
"Lavi." Allen whispered, his heart aching almost as much as his side. He...he'd only wanted to comfort his friend, not make it worse. "I'm…"
"Just...go." Lavi said tiredly, turning back to the window with an air of finality. "I don't need your pity."
Allen almost argued with him, except that Lavi had already drawn up all his walls, that desolate feeling in the air like a shroud. He didn't know what else to do, except use the wheelchair to help lever himself to his feet. Then, with one backwards glance at his friend, Allen rolled from the room, intending to go back to his own and brood for a while.
That was his intention, anyway.
"Allen!" A voice called from the other end of the hall, drawing Allen from his worries. It was Komui, beret eschew and lab coat rumpled.
"Komui." Allen greeted tiredly. "What can I-"
Before Allen could finish, the older scientist had come close enough that he was able to grab the wheelchair. He did so and immediately jerked Allen in the opposite direction from where he'd originally been going. "No time to talk." He said, and started running.
"Komui!" Allen shouted, grabbing onto the arm and trying desperately not to fall off. "Komui, what the hell-"
Komui took a turn too fast, and Allen's hand ripped away from the armrests. He clutched his bruised fingertips to his chest, mind whirring, trying to figure out what had possessed the scientist to run him around the halls like a maniac-
Allen reached out with one foot, and kicked the brake on one of the wheels.
The wheelchair spun on the dead weight, throwing its passenger and the one pushing it into a wall. The momentum was too great to react to, so Komui hit the drywall with a painful sounding oomph, and Allen slammed into the side of his chair. He was definitely going to be a patchwork of bruises and pain tomorrow, but he couldn't care less, because-
"Komui, what the hell is your problem?!" Allen shouted, detaching his chair from the scene of the crash and wobbling it closer to the other man (oops-the break was still on, he'd forgotten). Said scientist was still rising to his feet, fixing his beret with one hand.
"It's Central, Allen." Komui said, and finally looked at him.
Allen recoiled, because he knew that expression; he'd seen Komui wear it before. It was that look when the scientist had been backed into a corner, when the only way out was a bullet to the head or one of the broken child soldiers around him.
Then, the words caught up.
"What do you mean, 'It's Central'?" Allen asked, voice just barely ghosting above a whisper.
"I don't know how, we've been so careful-" Komui grimaced and shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. They figured out a way to question you, possibly get you killed for being a Noah. I want to get you out of here before they figure out that Lenalee is a distraction."
Allen stared at Komui, mind blank.
They were still coming after him? After...everything? He still wasn't free?
Allen thought about it. He thought about Lavi, punching his skinny knees because they would no longer take him where he wanted to go. He thought about Marie, who was all but useless at the moment because the Innocence had given him back his purpose. He thought about Kanda, the only ex-general who had stayed in the Order's headquarters after the war ended, and was refusing to leave before the mess they'd made was cleaned up. He thought about Lenalee, who was refusing to give them back their Innocence in an attempt to give them a future instead. He thought of her brave, determined face, pushing through day after day, just wanting the next one to be better.
He thought about the Noah, and their hosts, who had all died after Nea's desecration. He thought about the little black-haired girl he'd seen, Rhode's host, the one time he'd been given access to her memories (through Nea's will, of course).
"No." Allen said quietly, and only realized he'd interrupted Komui when the man stopped chattering, eyebrows high.
"What?"
"Let them come." Allen folded his hands in his lap, and felt his expression go serene. Just to drive the point home, he kicked down the other brake on the wheelchair. "I'm done with running."
"Allen…" Komui said slowly, as though he were talking to a small child. "They will kill you. It doesn't matter if you're not a Noah, they will still-"
"Then, by God, let them."
Allen heard that ring like a struck bell. He felt as though he were hollow, and the only thing holding him up was that sentiment, that simple phrase. Let them.
By God, let them come.
"I'm done hiding." Allen told Komui quietly, watching that stunned expression with a deadened eye. "I refuse to live the rest of my life like a fugitive. If they kill me, so be it." Then he sucked in a heavy, shaky lungful of air. "And if they try to imprison me, then I'll kill myself. The only outcome I'll accept is complete absolution."
Komui didn't have anything to say to that. In fact, when Crow finally marched around the corner and informed Allen that they were taking him into custody, Komui was still standing there, not making a sound.
Whatever.
lelz
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