Next!
Because of Link's heartfelt defense, the Interrogators gave up all attempts to villainize Allen, which was a relief. The were now sort of seeing him as human, rather than Noah, which was making the questioning much easier as well. Of course many of them hadn't given up the whole, 'Fourteenth is Satan let's kill all associated with him' shtick, so now they were trying to argue their case in a more subtle way.
Allen was tired of it all, and just wished he could go to sleep without the Crow standing over him. Did those guys actually rest, or had Levierre somehow fucked with their brain patterns so badly that they couldn't?
Now that he thought about it, he'd only seen Link sleep once or twice. There may be some fact to Allen's wild guess.
As he rested his head on Lenalee's shoulder, he considered this drowsily, staring blankly at the wood grain of the bench in front of him. He considered tuning back into the conversation, just to see what they were trying to pin him down with now, before deciding against it. It wasn't worth the trouble. He wished Link were here, but the Inspector had been firmly not-invited to the rest of the proceedings, now that he had said his piece.
"Are you okay?" Lenalee asked him quietly, and he lifted his head slightly.
He thought about that question for a second, before shrugging his good shoulder slightly. "I don't know." He admitted. "Sometimes I think everything's okay, and then something crazy happens." He squinted up at her. "Are you okay?"
That question seemed to stump her. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, silent for a moment, letting the babble of voices wash over them. Lenalee looked tired and drawn, and there was a new scar on her chin that looked like it had been deep and painful. She was fierce and beautiful, and she had become the type of soldier that Allen would have been proud to serve with.
She let out a soft snort, and said, a little wearily, "I think you summed it up best."
Allen accepted that answer with a soft sigh, closed his eye, and allowed himself to drift, letting the world fade into white noise. He only caught snippets of the conversation, but that served him just fine; he was sick of all the accusations anyway.
"...think it's clear...not a Noah…" Komui was saying, and Allen smiled softly, grateful that he still had someone who believed in him enough to defend him. "Just because...was a Noah...doesn't mean…"
"We understand." The woman apparently in charge said, her seemingly endless patience beginning to strain at the end of its tether. It had been a long four days for everyone involved. "But we need proof that the Fourteenth is no longer inside of him."
There was no proof, of course. There was no way to prove whether or not Nea had actually died with the Millennium Earl-after all, Allen hadn't even noticed the first slow invasion of his soul. For all any of them knew, Nea was lying in wait, preparing for Allen to let his guard down and destroy everything he'd worked so hard to rebuild. It sounded a little crazy, once one thought about it, but Allen had been screwed over one too many times, and he was starting to notice a very distinct pattern in his luck. In that, he had none.
But then, Lenalee stiffened.
He wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't have his head resting on her shoulder, it was such a little movement. He might have even written it off as Lenalee shifting a little, if Komui had not paused for a second in his words. Komui did not pause to think about things; he was a brilliant scientist, and there was absolutely no way he hadn't anticipated a question like that.
"Lenalee?" Allen asked, lifting his head from her shoulder so he could look her in the eye. She didn't respond, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her brother.
"There isn't a way." Komui said firmly, as believable as he ever was.
"Why is he lying?" Allen hissed, feeling anger building in his chest like a black storm, wondering why on earth they could be hiding this from him. They had to know how much this meant to him, how much worry it would relieve if he knew for certain that the Fourteenth no longer lived. They had to know about him waking up in the middle of the night, clawing at the blankets and heaving for air because he thought that he was still fighting the Fourteenth. They had to know how important it was that he could put this all behind him, that he could finally be at peace-
"It's dangerous, Allen." Lenalee gritted out, still refusing to look at him, because she was also apparently a coward. "It's highly traumatic for all parties involved. Drop it."
Allen let out an annoyed growl, and rose to his feet, shaking off Lenalee's hand on his arm. He noticed a few Investigators looking at him disapprovingly, unhappy about him disrupting the proceedings, but he couldn't care less. This was important. "Komui!" He shouted.
Komui jumped and turned around, sending Allen a dear-in-the-carriage lights look, and the reproving muttering from the Investigators got even louder. "Allen?"
"I meant what I said." Allen said calmly, clenching his fist at his side and refusing to look away from Komui's wide eyes. He would not back down, not for this. "I want complete absolution. Whatever it takes."
The Investigators, although they were still frowning, were now glancing curiously between the two of them, trying to puzzle out that mysterious exchange. They shuffled amongst themselves, obviously uncertain of how to proceed, clearly waiting for someone else to say something. The woman in charge was staring down at Komui with a hawk-like gaze, her dark eyes suspicious and knowing.
Allen ignored it all, and simply stared down Komui with everything he had, putting all the determination and resolve that he could not say into his very being. Komui had to understand how much Allen needed this. He had to.
"Lee?" The woman in charge asked, her voice prompting and harsh.
Komui blinked and shook his head, finally turning his gaze away from Allen, looking almost humbled somehow. He shifted so he was fully facing the panel of Investigators, and then looked up into them. "I apologize, I gave some misinformation. There is a procedure, but it was decided to be too dangerous by the Science Department."
"Brother!" Lenalee shouted, half-rising out of her seat, aghast. "It's not safe!"
"Do it." Ordered the woman, her expression grim but firm.
"This is what he wants, Lenalee." Komui told his sister, not turning around to face her. To the woman above, he said, "I understand. You will have the proof you need by this time tomorrow."
"Dismissed!" She responded very, very quickly, probably because Lenalee now looked like wrath incarnate, bearing down on her brother with the anger of God on her face. The other Investigators cleared out of the room very quickly (except for one who tried to stop and watch curiously, but was ushered out), determined to avoid the inevitable blowup between the two siblings.
Komui turned to meet her, his eyes flinty with determination, and Allen realized that this was one of the rare moments when he'd refuse to back down from his little sister. He was going to fight for Allen's right to have the procedure, his sister's anger be damned.
Allen hurried to detangle his wheelchair from the benches, because whether or not he actually wanted to get involved (he didn't), this was undeniably about him. He wanted to support Komui's defense, because even with that iron-refusal to back down, this would not be a battle easily won.
"What are you thinking?!" Lenalee spat the minute she was within speaking range, her amethyst eyes glittering. "He's had enough people digging in his head without this procedure, you know how it could affect him!"
"He can handle it." Komui said firmly, and for the first time Allen was truly grateful that Kanda had taken the time to speak to the scientist. As much as he liked Lenalee, she had honestly coddled him the most, which was beyond irritating. "This is what he needs, can't you see that?"
If Lenalee had been a cat, she would have been hissing and spitting up a storm, black fur puffed out around her in an angry ball. In her human skin, though, she apparently found her way of displaying anger dissatisfying, because she was pacing back and forth and waving her arms about her. "You would risk his mental health on a technique that might not even work?" She snarled. "Do I have to remind you that the last people who attempted it ended up in a mental ward?"
"I don't care about that, Lenalee." Allen interrupted gently, having finally abandoned the wheelchair back with the benches-bloody maze. Komui sent him a grateful look, and stepped back slightly to let Allen talk to his sister. "I need to know, even if it kills me. I can't keep waking up to nightmares. I need to know whether or not there's the slightest chance that I might accidentally end up killing someone."
His honest words seemed to calm some of her anger, and she turned to look at him, eyes big and pleading. To Allen's surprise, he honestly thought she might start crying, she looked so distressed. "But Allen…"
"We can't protect him forever." Komui broke in softly, and tentatively took his sister's arm, giving her plenty of space to back away. When she didn't, he carefully closed the distance and pulled her into a hug, and she let him, resting her chin on his shoulder.
She sighed and pressed her eyes into his jacket, reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I know. But…"
Allen raised an eyebrow at the two of them, because he was pretty certain that this was a more extreme reaction than the situation necessarily warranted. He of course suspected that Komui and Lenalee had been trying to make the situation sound better than it actually was, but this was something else entirely. What were they hiding from him that could make Lenalee react so badly?
Hopefully they would tell him soon.
The Soul, buried deep beneath layers of thoughts and memories and emotions, suddenly got the feeling that it was being….disturbed.
It turned it's attention away from it's reconstruction efforts, and turned it's attention to the strange movements on the edges of it's awareness. If it had posessed a body it would've been frowning darkly, because it remembered another disturbance, a very long time ago. It remembered pain of the worst kind, Mana was gone, Mana was dead, and it was all his fault-and then the soul had been invaded. While the Soul had still been reeling from it's aching wounds, something had come inside, taken up a place that was sacred.
It had been many years since then, but the Soul never forgot.
So it surfaced from it's comforting rest, gently pushing away tendrils of emotions and motes of ideas, and circled the mindscape. The field of wildflowers was only half-finished, and the sky still had its broken moon up ahead, but there was...progress. The Soul was relieved; it had half expected that it couldn't rebuild it's inner world after the Intruder had destroyed it so completely.
(The Intruder had made a chair, and a black sky with the moon crumbling high above, and a lake. The Soul had hated it, had hated it and chafed against it's restraints, but inevitably could do nothing to stop it. And when the Intruder had left, it had exploded everything, callously tossing everything Allen Walker was into the very depths of his mind.)
The Soul examined the new Disturbance, watching with wary curiosity as the presence explored the small field of flowers. It frowned a little, because the Disturbance didn't look like it was trying to ruin all it's hard work, but still. The Soul reached for the impressions of everyone it had in Allen Walker's life, and tried to find the ones that matched this person.
A second later, the Soul shivered a little, because it had found the correct impressions for this presence. This Invader, while not exactly an expected guest, was not an enemy, and was in fact welcome into Allen Walker's world.
Understanding this, the Soul sent a curious, happy greeting towards the presence, a gentle inquiry curled gently around a bright fondness of meeting a friend. (5)
The Presence-and he was called the Brother, that was right, because even though he was sometimes the Scientist he was the Brother right down to his core-jumped and turned around, looking wildly for the source of the inquiry. In fact, now that the Soul considered it, he looked a little spooked, shifting uncomfortable as he stared about him. The Soul wondered why the Brother had reacted this way-surely he wasn't here for nefarious reasons, that message had been far kinder than most-but then it remembered.
Of course-this was not just the Brother, but the consciousness of the Brother. The consciousness did not use impressions and feelings to speak, and as such did not understand the Soul when it spoke in it's own way. The Soul barely understood the consciousness's way of communicating, with blocky, chunky words that did not nearly convey the meaning it wanted (how did convey the exact shade of appreciation, or the exact depth of sadness when it's only medium was a few syllables?). However, it would have to try.
The Soul pulled from the Memories nearby, being ever so gentle not to damage the frayed, tattered tapestry (the Intruder had been least kind to these), and gave itself a physical form to walk in. It poured itself into the body, trying to fit all it's layers and ideas into a construct that the Brother could understand, and was barely successful. It felt tight in it's new skin, confined and trapped, but now the Brother could see and understand it, so that was...okay.
It touched down on the edge of the field of flowers, and began to walk unsteadily towards the Brother, who hadn't yet noticed him (and walking was so very strange, wasn't it so tedious to remain upright at all times?). It twisted it's mouth around as it approached, trying to imitate how the body communicated with the people around it, and said, "Hello, the Brother."
The Brother jumped and turned around, staring in shock at the form the Soul had decided to take. His next movement was to cover his front, because when one entered the mind of another, one came only as they were. Clothes were not a part of the body, and so did not transfer to the mind. "A-Allen?" Then he frowned. "What did you just call me?"
The Soul stared at him, befuddled, uncertain how to explain that the Brother's sensations and impressions made him the Brother. He was a series of memories and thoughts all compiled into one, and all interactions between him and Allen, all their shared memories, painted him into one picture. How was he supposed to explain this to a being who wasn't a soul, who didn't speak the language of their kind?
The Soul decided that it was worth the risk to show the Brother, to try and explain in it's own language. So it steadied itself (which apparently translated into a preporatory breath in a body, who knew), and sent a series of impressions and images at him, willing him to understand.
-Komui Lee, grinning wide at Allen Walker, and a curl of fondness unfurled in his chest. "Welcome home!" The older man told the scarred exorcist, and this-this feeling was new, because Allen had never had a home before, never had a place he knew he could return to-
-Komui didn't want Lenalee to fight, he was all gritted teeth and sharp anger, and his protective wrath was truly terrifying to behold. Even if he was naive, because Lenalee had to fight, she was a soldier and she wanted to protect her friends, he still didn't care. He just wanted all the children to be safe-
-Komui, who thought Lenalee was dead, was broken inside. It had been his job to protect his sister, and he had saved her before, he wanted to save her as many times as he needed to. But now it was impossible, because she was dead, and-
The Brother doubled over, gasping at the onslaught of memories that the Soul had given him. The Soul winced-it supposed that to a being unused to communicating in thoughts and memories, this would be a little frightening. Being forced to feel and remember things that weren't your own memories-well, Allen Walker knew all about that, and the trauma had lingered.
But a second later, the Brother flew upright, so quickly that it startled the Soul. His eyes were bright and wide, and there was a manic glee on his face that the Soul didn't know or understand. "That was incredible. So you're, what-the Soul? Is that how all Souls comminucate? I didn't really understand Allen when he said that, but-"
Ah, the Soul understood now. The Brother had taken a step back and let the Scientist through. The Soul smiled indulgently and nodded, quite pleased that someone was properly appreciating his language. Even Allen had simply tolerated it.
The Scientist stopped babbling for a second and simply stared at the Soul, eyes wide with awe. "Wow." He breathed.
The Soul's grin widened. Indeed, wow.
Then the Scientist shook his head, and the Brother took control again, letting his expression dim into grimness. "But-that's not why I'm here, actually. I'm looking for something."
"A memory?" The Soul responded politely, tilting his head in what he knew was a curious manner. Ugh, he hated this stunted way of communicating, the meaning never quite came across correctly.
"More like…" The Brother frowned, thinking. "Do you...remembered an invasion of this place? It would have been several years ago, and the person doing it would not have been...friendly."
The Soul reacted without thinking. It sent Komui a battering tide of images, of wrongness, violation, fear that never ended and never stopped. It sent unstoppable rage at everything, helpless anger at the unfairness of the life he would never live, and betrayal so thick it clogged the throat. And it sent a memory after that, of Allen chained to the chair, staring into nothing as his mind was destroyed in front of him, helpless. And finally, it sent Allen's determination, him staring down Komui with steady eyes and saying, "I will only accept complete absolution."
The Brother was not prepared for such an intense flow of emotions, and especially not the vibrant memories that had come along with them. Within a second he was curled on the grass, shaking and trembling under the weight of the attack, tears coursing down his face. The Soul let out a cry of anguish, and dropped to his knees next to the Brother, gently reaching out to pull the man's head onto his lap.
Then it gently, ever so carefully, began running soothing, relaxing emotions into the Brother's chaotic ones. It did not press, but fed the Brother a series of happy, gentle things, like sleeping in the sun on a rock, boneless and a bunch of stray kittens played around his feet, and one of them curled in his lap, purring happily. As it did so it gently began running it's fingers through the man's black hair, because that was a human thing to do, and eventually the Brother's emotions quieted.
The Soul pulled back it's touch on his mind, feeling downright miserable. It was barely holding back the feelings of guilt as an apology, because it had already done enough damage with it's bumbling. People were so fragile.
The Brother groaned and looked up, blinking wearily at the Soul's bright eyes, and then blinking faster in confusion when he realized that it was crying. Then he noticed that he was lying on the Soul's lap, because he very quickly rolled off, suddenly remembering to be embarrassed about his nudity.
The Soul curled it's hands in it's lap, and tears continued to course down it's face. "I'm sorry." It said as meaningfully as it could.
"I suddenly understand why this was considered to be so dangerous." The Brother said shakily, the Scientist barely teetering in on the edges of his words. Then he took a deep breath, and rose to his feet, before offering the Soul a hand up. "It's okay. The Fourteenth-he scared you, and you just had a bad reaction. I understand."
Relieved, the Soul took the hand and got to it's feet, wiping away the tears from it's eyes. "Thank you," He said with as much sincerity as he could muster, which for some reason made the Brother look very embarrassed. "Yes," It said very firmly, because it was doing this the human way now. "I do remember who you speak of."
The Brother's mouth opened slightly, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, before snapping shut with a click. He looked away and muttered under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like, "Well obviously," before slowly shaking his head and turning back. "Do you know if he's still here? The Intruder, that is."
The Soul breathed in and out a little harshly as it fought back the rush of impressions that question brought back. It shut it's eyes and bit it's lip, trying to quell the storm building inside, and the landscape around them responded in kind-the wind suddenly picked up where there had been none, and the shadows of clouds covered the bright light of the broken moon.
When it opened it's eyes again, the Brother was giving him a very wide-eyed gaze, trepidation in the set of his jawline. As the Soul spoke, it's breath came out foggy, as though the temperature had just dropped several degrees. The flowers around them suddenly got a very thin layer of frost. "The Incomplete is no longer within me." He said very firmly. "He is dead."
The Brother swallowed a little, and his fear was almost palpable, but the Soul could either control it's emotions in this way or push the impressions onto the other man. It would not apologize for doing what needed to be done to keep his mind safe. "I...see." He paused. "And you know for certain?"
The Soul narrowed it's eyes, and then (just once more, because it needed the Brother to understand this, and no words could make it understood) it carefully gave him an impression. And not of emotions, not in a way that the Brother normally understood, but part of the Soul's own recollection.
The Soul waited for years, waited for Allen Walker to notice the little parasite in his head. It bore the Intruder like a cancer, watching with resigned horror as it slowly took over everything. Allen Walker was not his Soul, and it had never regretted this more than it did now, because it could not tell him what he needed to know to save himself.
And then the Intruder was gone, and the Soul was free.
The Brother breathed out shakily, but was obviously less affected by this than the raw human emotions from earlier. He considered this for a moment, this impression of years stuffed down into a single packet of information, and then let out a soft sigh. "Truly," The Scientist said. "Truly incredible."
The Soul inclined it's head slightly in acknowledgement, knowing that it was almost time for the other man to leave. It made to say goodbye, before something suddenly occurred to it. "I have a favor to ask of you, regarding Allen Walker."
The Brother looked surprised by the request, but nodded easily enough, looking more curious than anything. "Of course."
The Soul reached out with one hand, and from the depths of itself rose the manifestation of Allen Walker's Memories. The manifestation looked just as battered and pathetic as the boy's actual memories, because he was still putting them back together. It was a long and arduous process, but the main problem was- "These are Allen Walker's memories."
The Brother let out an unexpected snort. "It looks like Timcampy."
The Soul tilted his head, and as it remembered the manifestation open it's mouth, and out flew the memory of the golden golemn. The Soul observed the memory for a moment, taking in all the details, before admitting that it did, in fact, look like the manifestation of Allen's Memories. "How unusual." It said, and then grimaced. "But you-you see how the Memories look."
The Brother frowned at the manifestation, clearly just taking in the many scars and wounds that decorated the tiny thing. He glanced around the mental landscape another time, and seemed to realize that it was...actually rather small. "Allen….he said that the Fourteenth was destroying his mind."
"I haven't fixed all the damage." The Soul admitted uneasily, letting the manifestation of Memories fall back into the depths of itself. It ran it's hands through it's white hair, face twisting into a grimace. "If this place gets a really big shock, it'll shatter. I'll have to start from scratch to rebuild, which would...not be a good idea, I think."
"Clearly." The Brother said faintly, looking very pale all of a sudden.
"If you love him, take care of my Allen." The Soul told him very seriously. "I'm honestly not sure we could survive another experience like this."
"You have my word." The Brother said grimly, and there was a such a look of certain solemnity on his face that the Soul couldn't help but to believe him.(6)
5) I had a lot of trouble trying to figure out how this scenario was going to go, specifically how Allen's soul and Komui would communicate. I didn't want Komui to be speaking to Allen in his head, because that would be like speaking to him normally. But then I thought about the soul of a person, and how it's considered to be the basis of every human being, and decided that would be a great thing to use. I hope it's not too weird.
6) I actually had a super difficult time writing this part. It was really hard integrating the whole messy soul business with actual people. I hope it vaguely makes sense?
a) Actually it was about this point that I went I have about thirty thousand words of fanfiction on my Google Docs what the fuck am I doing with my life.
To those of you who saw romance in the last chapter (and you know who you are):
1) Rest assured, there is no romance in this fic at all, because they're all fucked in the head.
2) Even if there was romance, I wouldn't change my mind about the pairing because a reviewer asked me to. I write my fics before I post them, you know? If there is a relationship in one of my fics, it has plot relevance.
Everyone else: thank you for your lovely reviews!
P.S. I'm really sorry if this is weird, but I noticed that some people from Slovenia are reading my fic? In which case AWESOME, that's really cool. But if you don't mind, can you PM me sometime? The reason is that I picked up a book when I was a kid about your country, and it gave me some really weird information. I'd like to either confirm or deny the information given, if that's okay. If you're not willing, please continue on your way!