White Demon, Red Scribe
A D Gray-Man and Assassin's Creed Revelations Crossover

Lavi already knew what was coming when he saw the sheet and the blood, though he wasn't sure exactly how big of a deal it was to Allen until he started to break down in grief.

The sight made his chest twist in a way he knew it shouldn't, though it had little to do with the body itself. He'd seen a lot of corpses throughout his life, many far more brutalized than this one, and he'd long ago grown cold to that. Allen's distress, however, was not something he had nor probably ever could harden himself to, no matter how much he tried, though he knew he could hide how much it bothered him perfectly.

He reached a hand out to place on Allen's shoulder, though he didn't expect it would offer much comfort. That was something that was going to take time and struggle.

The redhead was acutely aware of the distrusting looks he was getting and the wary tension that almost came off most of the assassins in waves, but he ignored all of them. So long as no one literally knifed him in the back, he really didn't care what they thought of him.

"So no one saw what happened?" This question was directed at the group as a whole, his mind already working on possibilities, trying to sniff out information. For the most part, there was silence, whether it be that no one had any information to give or they just didn't trust him enough to give it.

Allen held the body, rocking there and forth, trying to control his sobbing. Lavi asked something but his mind was fogged with grief and rage.

Why him? Why little Timmy? He was always such a good boy. Just why? Why?! WHY?!

"Did anyone see who did this?" Allen asked, his voice hoarse and filled with hatred and disgust. He didn't even know what the debate was about.

Hearing a few negative murmurs, Allen bristled even more, laying the boy back on the ground and caressing his cold cheek for the last time.

"I want him dead," Allen said, fighting the panic and anger within him. "I want dead whoever is responsible for this."

He couldn´t stay in the room any longer. He needed to get out. He needed to find the monster who did this and take it down. He needed to speak with Kanda...

Lavi was mostly silent at this point, playing it by ear and keeping a hand on Allen's shoulder, in case he needed the contact, even if the man didn't consciously recognize the gesture at the moment.

No one had seen anything happen... no one within the assassins at least, but someone somewhere in town had to have noticed something. Finding that person would be the trick, though. There were a lot of people in Istanbul. Narrowing anyone down wouldn't be easy or immediate.

He was silent as Allen snapped in a strained voice about finding and killing the one responsible, tightening the hand on the white male's shoulder slightly, meeting his eyes.

"Allen, I get that you're furious about this, but I don't think you should go rushing off. I'm not saying forget about going after whoever this person is, but we should stop a minute and think this through carefully." He wasn't sure the other was even in a frame of mind to do so, but he was trying to be the anchor keeping him grounded, especially right now. He figured that he was probably the best to do so right now, since he was really the only unbiased one in the situation presently, unclouded by hurt feelings. "What you give up to your enemy in anger is everything. This was a carefully calculated move, and it would be best to counter it with a clear head."

"You don't understand, Lavi!" Allen snapped, punching the ground. "This was for me! The message is for me! They know I am here! Kanda-" He stopped himself. He must not think this way. Kanda is alive. Alive and alright. He wanted to calm down but he just couldn't.

Despite Allen's words, Lavi liked to think he understood quite clearly, and Allen was just too wound up from what had happened to realize any better. He knew bait when he saw it, and this absolutely reeked of it. Whoever had done it was after Allen, and what better way than to get him riled out of his wits to go charging straight into the deadly spearhead like a rage-blinded boar?

"Lavi, this is my fault!" Allen cried, gesturing to the young boy´s dead body. His chest hurt and his hands were tingling. "His blood is on my hands! Cazzo!" Punching the ground again, the white-haired man swore. He couldn't stay here. He jerked his shoulder away from Lavi's touch and sprang up, running outside.

The redhead growled softly under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Stubborn-" he muttered, shaking his head and moving to follow, pausing only to retrieve his pole-arm, just in case he needed it, which was a very real possibility. He knew he couldn't just let Allen go running off alone with his mind muddled by grief when he was already reckless enough on the best of days, though he was sure that at least one of the other assassins wouldn't be far behind, whether they followed openly or sneakily. He was certain at least one of them would simply because he knew that they didn't trust him. From the looks they'd given, some of them might have even suspected the Bookmen himself was somehow involved in it.

He was quick to catch up to Allen, well into the street by the time he managed to match his pace.

"Easy, buddy, just pause a moment to cool your head. Believe me, I get what this is about, but you won't be doing anyone any justice if you go charging into danger, or worse, a trap, and get yourself killed first. We'll figure this out, but we have to do it smartly."

Even now, he was watching their surroundings for an enemy, even the rooftops.

"Not if I kill them first." Allen replied, frowning at Lavi and dodging to the closest alley, jumping on the roof. That was his advantage. He could lose the redhead up here.

He ran as fast as he could, taking out every guard before they could warn the others.

The anger was consuming him. It was unbearable. He noticed that there was no flaming hair following him anymore, which made him for some reason more agitated. Letting out a frustrating yell, he turned around and headed to the one place nobody could touch him.

Once he climbed the Galata tower, the highest tower in the entire city, Allen sat down and buried his face into his hands.

"I'm so sorry, Timmy..." He whispered, immediately calming somewhat as the wind howled around him.

He was so tired.

Once Allen pulled himself together enough to stop sobbing like a small child, his mind became blank.

He couldn't bear to think about all the things that could have happened to Kanda but he also couldn't help but panic. As far as Allen knew, only the higher-ups in Italy knew about him and kept it secret - so, the hunter that mutilated Timmy's body could only be from Rome. That led to two scenarios: either Kanda has been taken prisoner and his jailors have somehow been able to get the information out of him; or someone was clever enough to make themselves reliable enough for Kanda to trust them with his mission.

Problem was, Kanda stands unbeaten in the assassins' ranks and he never trusts anyone. Well… anyone except Allen.

So there was another possibility the White Demon didn't want to acknowledge: there was a traitor in Istanbul.

All these thoughts only made his head spin more. Finally, when he thought everything would be alright, this had to happen. He wouldn't forgive himself for getting the kid killed. Not until he found the hunter and tore his throat to shreds.

Grief would get him nowhere. It was time to act. Time to tear the cheerful mask off his face. It was time to set the White Demon free for real, and hunt the hunter.

Lavi grit his teeth and tried to make a grab for a piece of the whitette's clothing, but he barely missed, the other man scaling up onto the top of the buildings. He cursed aloud to himself and tried to follow, but Allen was already well ahead of him and had the advantage in that regard, especially since he knew the territory a lot better. He was sure the younger male probably knew all the best spots to gain distance without being immediately seen too, and the rooftops were staggered, which made it all the more troublesome keeping the other within his sights.

He allowed himself to get frustrated for just a moment before pushing it to the side. He needed to take his own advice, and think it through. Just where the Hell would Allen go?

Good question, he couldn't help but lament. If this were Florence or Rome, he could probably keep up and find Allen in no time, but he still didn't know Istanbul well enough to do the same here. The problem with Allen was that he could be a really shitty navigator even under the best circumstances. Tracking him once he managed to make someone lose his trail was the biggest pain in the ass because half the time even he didn't know where the Hell he was. It was really hard to get inside the head of a guy who had gotten himself lost so often.

Of course, a trail of Byzantine guard bodies was a start... Lavi didn't have to think hard to guess whose handiwork that might have been at the moment. That only lasted so long though as the trail abruptly ended. The Bookman wasn't sure if that had been deliberate or Allen had merely lost steam.

"Damn it, Allen. Just where the Hell did you go?" Half of his bet was riding on that the other man probably didn't know either. But if he were to go somewhere specific, where would that be? Lavi's eye scanned the surrounding city, then it hit him. If he'd stopped on his little hunt, he'd probably go somewhere well secluded and easy for him to find, and the easiest place to find amongst all the other structures this side of the water was the Galata tower(which he was not looking forward to climbing again).

He huffed and started in that direction, thinking to himself that Allen better damn well be there when he reached it.

If Allen hadn't been at the top of this tower, Lavi would have been thoroughly pissed off because this was really the last place he wanted to be at the moment. Why couldn't he have chosen some place a little more accessible and a little easier to get down from?! One that didn't involve such a steep drop.

"If you go taking off on me like that again right now, I can guarantee you I'm going to kick your ass very, very hard," Lavi panted as he finally managed to heave himself onto the top of the tower and find his feet. Or at least while he stood leaning with his palms on his knees, trying to regain himself fully.

He was watching Allen carefully, picking out minute details. He looked like he'd been crying before Lavi had managed to show up, though that wasn't really surprising. Anxiety, probably because of the fact that they had no idea who the killer was. There was something else that made Lavi decidedly wary though. Something more malevolent.

"-and I mean it, too," he continued, having managed to recover relatively quickly. "Don't even think of ditching me again."

"Lavi!" Allen suddenly said, not even listening to what the redhead was moaning about after he climbed up. "I need your help." He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. "I need you to send a letter to Kanda. I need to know if he's alright." Allen looked at Lavi with hopeful expression, hoping that he didn´t too desperate.

He knew they made a promise, but this was more important than that. He wouldn´t be able to sleep until he knew Kanda was still alive and kicking - even despite his partner's reputation. The next step was easy - find out how many Italian ships docked in the city during the past two or three weeks.

Lavi wasn't terribly surprised by the request and nodded his head, eyeing the other male, though he was of the mind to tell the other that when he said he could write a letter it probably wasn't exactly what he was expecting it to be. He thought that maybe the white-haired man was at least listening to him now, but that was quickly proven wrong too as the man turned and leapt off the tower.

"Come," Allen said, gripping Lavi's shoulders and spinning him around, and completely dismissing the look the redhead was giving him, "we need to hurry!" That was the last thing he said before he himself spun around and jumped down from the tower, leaving Lavi alone again.

Lavi clenched his jaw and almost couldn't hold back a groan of displeasure, eyeing the drop. Okay... no big deal... just one, two, three, go, right? After all, he'd done it before just fine, so...

He didn't have time to dwell on it, leaping off to follow and climbing out as quickly as he could, shaking hay off of him.

He moved to follow Allen, who was quickly taking up distance toward the docks, but Lavi was intent on not letting him get ahead this time. He snagged the other man by the back of his hood and pulled him aside towards an uninhabited alleyway with swift deliberation, not wanting to give Allen the chance to dislodge himself and truly ditch the other a second time in his frantic haste.

As soon as he was satisfied they were a fair enough distance away, he pinned Allen firmly against a wall with his body and an elbow to his throat, all the while sincerely hoping he wasn't going to end up with a hidden blade in his skull, though it wasn't Allen he was worried about. He was quickly growing frustrated, which was not something he did often, if ever, but Allen was managing to grate on his last nerve. That was an accomplishment in and of itself, and not in a good way.

"You need to stop and just chill for a moment, before I throw that hot head of yours down the nearest well until it cools off," he hissed. If Allen wasn't going to sit still and listen to him, then he was just going to have to keep him here until he did.

To say Allen was surprised was an understatement because what Lavi did surprised him more than he would have liked. The redhead probably didn't realize he was only one hair away from death - more or less unintentionally.

Allen stared at Lavi with dead stillness but with his eyes wide open - not because the latter took him by surprise, but because of the realization, and partially amazement, that he could have killed his friend without thinking.

He waited a second for the redhead to get still, feeling his breath against his face and his body pressed against him.

"Lavi," he said with a slightly wavering, but still warning enough, voice. "…take a step back and think about how reckless you've just been." Allen didn't even know how much his hand trembled until he carefully pressed his already drawn hidden blade against the redhead's abdomen to emphasize his words.

Did Lavi even realize how he'd scared him?

Lavi could feel the point of the blade against him faintly but didn't budge. He was certain Allen wouldn't-

No. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He really didn't know if Allen would or not. Neither of them were the same kids they used to be. Even if they'd only changed so much, it was still enough, and he still didn't completely know who Allen was now, and even if Allen never would under normal circumstances, he wasn't thinking right. The recent death was still too raw for him to be thinking right, because the idiot just wouldn't sit down and let himself grieve properly first.

But he still didn't budge.

"I'm not moving," he told Allen straightly, his voice level but still holding an err of authority to it. He knew the risks, but he wasn't intimidated, least of all by Allen of all people, even if perhaps he should have been. "And neither are you, until you listen to me. Even if you stab me, I'm not letting you go. Not until you slow down for one fucking second and actually hear me out, instead of blowing me off and charging off on your own. This is serious."

"Lavi," Allen whispered, this time a little more pleadingly. "You should…" he said very slowly, still in whisper as he looked carefully up and to the side, hoping that the assassins would point their guns elsewhere.

The redhead's way of calming him down was working somehow. Only now Allen was realizing that he had never once been alone after he left the den, and Lavi was more suspicious than ever. He hoped his friend would get the clue and back off before he would get seriously harmed.

However, he would listen. If that was what would make Lavi cooperate, he would listen to what the other has to say.

Unlike Allen, Lavi had been aware from the start that they were probably being followed. He didn't exactly have favor with the other assassins to begin with, and the circumstances and too-recent death were only going to escalate suspicions, but he was still operating with that knowledge. He didn't think Allen would try to kill him, even if he had hurt the other man when he left years ago, but he knew that the others in his group held no such reservations towards him. Even so, he knew what he was doing, all of it calculated, though he didn't give any direct hint that he knew they were being watched or that there were assassins ready to take him out at the slightest provocation.

"I told you, I'm not letting you go until I've finished what I have to say," he said, making it a point to say it loud enough that the white-haired male's hidden comrades could hear every word, without making it too obvious that was what he intended. He'd just let them assume it was only anger that had his voice raised.

"You're acting like a real idiot, you know that? And you may think that you're thinking clearly, but you're not. I know you better than that. This damn reckless martyr complex of yours is going to end up getting you killed before long, and I know you barely care at all about if that happens to you, but it's going to get others hurt and killed when there's no need for them to be, and I'm not talking about your enemies here. You need to slow down and do things right and do them carefully, before all of it blows up in your face and the faces of everyone around you, and eventually it will."

"But it already did, didn't it." A pained smile appeared on his face. "Do you know how many have fallen in Rome? How many tried to protect me when the headhunt was called?" Allen asked, sheathing his blades and gripping Lavi's shirt with his still-trembling hands. "I had students, you know? They were all killed. I watched them all die. Now Tim is dead and it is because of me! Don´t you understand? I have to do it - this time for sure. It has to end! Why is everyone just so damn persistent at following me?" The last sentence was directed more to the following assassins than to Lavi himself.

Allen drew a shaky breath to calm himself, which didn't work at all.

"Everyone who so much as greeted me is a potential target! Imagine what a fine prey it makes you! What do you think I feel about that, huh?!" He was already shouting at this point but he didn't care.

Why did nobody understand? It wasn´t about being careful. Whoever arrived to Istanbul was good enough to get around Kanda - that fact itself scared Allen to no end.

"The fire I'm playing with will only burn myself. Remember? They are going after me. If I burn, they will burn with me. Just let me do this. After you write the letter, I will wait - I promise!" He quickly added. "If I get a reply, I will wait..."

And if the reply didn't come...

Allen gently tried to pry the arm away from his neck. "Please, Lavi," the white-haired man begged, his voice hoarse. "Just do as I say and stand aside!" this time only so the redhead could hear him. "I don't want to put you in any more danger..."

Lavi let Allen have his say without interruption, but he still didn't loosen up. He didn't doubt that the man would go tearing off again on a blind hunt as soon as he did.

"You're an Assassin, Allen. It's practically within your job description to make enemies," he stated matter-of-factly once the other had finished. "You think you're the first one this has ever happened to? You think you'll be the last one to bear that kind of burden? People are going to die and get killed no matter what you do. I'm sure that before this is over, more probably will, because I highly doubt that those other friends of yours are going to simply let you do this entirely on your own despite your best efforts to make it only your own problem, but the least you can do for yourself and for them is limit it to as few as possible, and you can start by using that damn head of yours properly. Running around town, blindly beating up every potential enemy in your path and making a raucous isn't the way to do that."

He took a breath, trying to steady his nerves. He didn't like seeing Allen worked up like this, much less when he started going with all that self-sacrificing garbage of his. It was frustrating and damn near impossible to talk the other out of once he started.

"What exactly did going off killing a string of Byzantine soldiers in your rage accomplish, exactly? Other than create more enemies you can't afford to make right now, and draw in unneccesary attention that's going to make it that much harder not just for you, but every other assassin in your order? Are you going to just keep going around, beating up and killing everyone you think you have to until there's no one left you think might have answers, or worse yet, find an arrow or a bullet in your back? Like I said, you're being a damn, reckless idiot. You can't protect absolutely everything to keep from losing anything. It's harsh, but that's reality. Tim died because you weren't prepared for it to happen, and that's not your fault, but you can keep it from happening to anyone else if you actually use some sense and work out a solid plan of defense. One that actually equips everyone to be prepared, not some selfish idea that sacrificing yourself is going to magically spare everyone else around you. Whether you like it or not, this is basically war, and you're going to lose some battles. At least make those losses worth something."

"It is a war. It has always been." Allen admitted silently, giving a signal to his fellow assassins to get down and help him behind Lavi´s back, masking it for going for an insisting squeeze. "But for the Byzantines, I am only another assassin they were unlucky enough to meet. They wage their war for this country and nothing else." Allen bowed his head in apology. "I am sorry, Lavi. I really am," he murmured as the assassins grabbed the redhead's arms and dragged him backwards, freeing Allen from his grip.

The white-haired man stepped back from the wall, nodding to Emil who held Lavi in place with a hand on his shoulder and a knife to his neck.

"I wish I could tell you, Lavi, but this is a war I can fight on my own. One day you´ll understand." He turned away and before he climbed onto the roof, he added, "send that letter for me, would you? I promise to sit back until I get a reply."

And with that, he dashed away, heading to the docks.

"Bái mù," Lavi cursed under his breath as he watched Allen disappear, frowning. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have expected much better. Allen was about as stubborn as they came. There wasn't any talking him out of something once he'd made up his mind, not even for someone as smooth a talker as he was, and Lavi wasn't sure why he even bothered.

So maybe he'd helped him calm down a little bit... so it might not have been a complete waste, but he wasn't really sure about that. Allen was good at faking that he was okay. Sometimes the times he smiled were the times to be the most worried.

It's your job not to get wrapped up in his world, though, he reminded himself bitterly. You're an observer here. Nothing more. Don't get drawn in to things that have nothing to do with you.

He huffed and pushed Emil's armed hand away at the same moment he pulled his shoulder out of the man's grip, taking a few steps to distance himself and propping his weapon up on his shoulder, but not bothering to go after Allen this time. It wasn't his business. This was the Assassin's problem, and he wasn't an assassin, despite that it was still bothering him.

"Not that I probably need to tell you, but you should watch him and make sure he doesn't do anything dumb or careless." Mostly it was the thought that Allen might actually find something that bothered him, because despite the man's promises, he wasn't sure Allen would be able to resist chasing it if he did. He grumbled something incoherent and rubbed the top of his head, staring back at the main street in contemplation and partial disregard, before stuffing one hand into his pocket. "I'm obviously not wanted, so I'll be heading back."

Emil retracted his hand but did not stop watching Lavi like a hawk.

"Wait!" he said, maybe a little bit more harshly than he intended. He heaved a heavy sigh and hid his weapons, holding up hands in surrender, not minding the fact that the other assassins on the nearby roof still held their weapons ready to strike. "What he said was true. He is probably the only one who can take that war onto his shoulder - and we both know he will. There are some... rumors about him that many know but only few voice out loud. So, for the sake of preventing Allen to make something stupid I offer peace," he said finally, stretching his hand out for a shake.

Lavi stopped and turned to face Emil, still aware that he was being watched by more than just the one assassin. They really distrusted him quite a lot, didn't they? He didn't return the handshake, though he showed no hostility either, only disinterest. He wasn't here to make friends, he just wasn't here to make enemies either.

He audibly sighed and turned his single eye skyward.

"No matter how skilled or reputed Allen might be, he's still only one guy. Still just as human and mortal as everyone else. The same goes for this Kanda person you're both set on trusting. No matter what any storybook or historical text might tell you, there are no solitary heroes that can do it all on their own. They all had help to accomplish the things they did, even if history forgot those other people. No offense meant, but trust me, I probably know that better than almost anyone else in this entire city. As for making peace, you can save it. Like you said, Bookmen don't take sides. I'm already neutral, and that's where I'm going to stay," he stated, even though part of his mind knew better, at least where Allen was concerned.

He would never not have Allen's side, but he would never admit that he did either - to admit that was to go against his loyalties to his clan - and even then, he would only get involved so far before he backed off. He knew where the limits were, and he sometimes pushed them, but he would never cross them.

Emil let his hand fall to his side with a barely concealed eye roll and a spike of irritation. Gee, he could at least pretend. He had no problem to do that with Allen, after all...

"Well, Kanda is a whole different story anyway..." He murmured, more to himself than to the redhead. Kanda might not be known across the continent, but here, he was like their own deity - a solid pillar that never crumbled. Always successful; always deadly.

Emil had to control the smirk that was threatening to appear on his face because even thinking about how Lavi will end up when Kanda sees him being all buddy-buddy with Allen made him shiver. Kanda was not a man that liked to share.

"Are you going to write that letter?" The masked assassin inquired, looking to the direction where Allen left.

Lavi nodded his head. He figured it couldn't be something that Allen wanted to keep as a terribly huge secret if he had talked about it in front of the others so directly.

"I told him that I would, if he wanted. I sort of owe him anyway, so it's just repaying a debt." That was one way to put it anyway, keeping it brief. He had a lot of things buzzing in his mind. Some of them were bridges he would have to cross later, though, whiles others were more immediate. First off on that list for now was the letter, though he'd have to make some special arrangements for it.

He wondered if Emil intended on anything, like making sure his message never reached its destination. He didn't know if the man was the type to do that, but he wouldn't put it past him either. He'd have to be careful about that.

"So was there anything else specific that you wanted?"

"Yeah, kind of," he said, tilting his head. "A little advice, you could say. To get you in my mentor's good side, because trust me when I say, you want to be there when he gets back."

Emil studied Lavi's face for a moment before he continued. "Keep the message as short as possible, which means: write only what Allen asked you to - I guess it was something as asking if he was alright and informing him that someone got past him. There's nothing else that needs to be in that letter. Don't send the letter until Allen gives you his pendant." He finished, taking a deep breath. "If you need anything just ask around the den. I'll send my friend back to inform the others. After all, we don't want you to get killed anytime soon. That would be very..." Emil searched for the right word for a while, "inconvenient."

He didn´t want it to sound as a threat but he couldn't help himself. They would cooperate for Allen sake but Emil still minded how close the redhead was to him - even if it looked like friendship and nothing more.

"I am going to get Allen back before he scares the dock records keeper to death." He waved his hand and whistled at an assassin standing on the roof, jerking his head towards the redhead. "The boys will leave you be." The ´but we´re still watching you´ was left unsaid.

With that, Emil turned around and dashed to the docks.

Lavi nodded his head as he listened to what Emil had to tell him. He thought about bringing up the fact that what he intended wasn't necessarily what either him or Allen had in mind, but he held off. He could always talk to Allen about it later, once he was back.

The bit about him potentially getting killed wasn't really all that surprising. Lavi was already thinking he was going to need to watch himself a bit more if he didn't want to end up with a blade to his back... or in his back. He didn't necessarily think it was anything personal, mostly a 'just in case' scenario. That might have been worse, though.

Emil ran off before he could ask for a specific city, but an educated guess based on the man's questions a week earlier told him that Rome was probably the prime location.

He headed back to the den on his own and packed his weapon away, retrieving a few things from his bag: some paper, a quill, some vials of ink, and a wood slab to use as a surface to write on. He hunkered down comfortably amongst a few pillows in the corner of the den's main room, though at first he did nothing, only stared at the paper in deep thought, calculation in his single eye.

Uncapping one of the vials of ink he'd retrieved, he finally started to work, making slow, careful, deliberate lines that weren't letters, but looked more like elaborate, artistic scroll-work, and started toward the center rather than any one corner of the page like standard writing.

Lavi was glad to be able to work undisturbed for a number of hours since the letter he was working on - which would simply look like a very detailed piece of artwork to anyone else if they were to peak at it - was taking all of his concentration and quite a number of hours to create properly.

There were various symbols throughout it that someone who was incredibly perceptive and educated might be able to spot, but not decipher, since it wasn't written in any known language throughout the world, but it was a guarantee that even those sorts of people would have trouble.

Hell, Lavi was having trouble, and he was the one who wrote the damn thing! Enough hours of staring at it, even knowing each carefully placed symbol or 'letter' and what every single one was supposed to mean, was starting to give him a headache, rubbing his temple with one hand to massage the ache away.

He glanced up as Emil and Allen returned, shooting them a cordial greeting. He had almost forgotten about them entirely, having been fully absorbed in his work.

"Hey~! Finally back. So how'd your hunt go?"

Allen would say he was very calm when he came to interrogate the record keeper in the docks. Emil, for some mysterious reason, disagreed. He managed to find him in the middle of his 'asking questions' and 'helped' him out later. Even though holding him back wasn't really 'helping out'.

In the end, the keeper was very cooperative and that was all that mattered.

He went through every single file that held the ship arrivals and passenger names he could get his hands on, not caring that the probability of someone arriving three months ago could be the hunter.

One could never be too careful.

After four hours of searching for names that would at least distantly ring a bell, he finally lost his nerves and slammed his fist against the table which left the piece of furniture cracked and his arm hurting. As if the constant burning of his abdomen wasn't enough.

Emil silently watched him, not daring to voice what they both already knew.

"There's nothing." Allen said, gripping the edge of the table. "I can't recognize a single name and it isn't as if they could afford to send someone new. It doesn´t make any sense!"

"Allen, you need to calm down," Emil tried to placate him, only in vain.

"How can I be calm?!" The white-haired man cried, cutting himself off before his temper could get any more out of hand.

Emil sighed and squeezed his shoulder.

"We should get back. Your friend promised to write the letter. You know we can't send it without this," he said, touching the pendant on Allen's chest.

"I can't..."

"Yes, you can and you will. This will get you nowhere and you know it. Be reasonable. Let me treat your wounds and get some rest. I told the men to ask around the city for some rumors. And don't worry, they will be fine." He quickly added the last part upon seeing the disbelief that quickly turned into betrayal on Allen's face.

They headed back and were immediately greeted by Lavi… to which Allen immediately groaned and turned around, heading straight to his room and collapsing as soon as he got near enough to do so.

Emil, on the other hand, shrugged, and walked up to him, talking a quick look at his work. It looked like some of the most intricately detailed patterns he'd ever seen, even more than those of their fine rugs.

"What is that?" He asked, genuinely interested.

"It's a letter, of sorts," Lavi replied, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. "Highly encrypted for Bookmen eyes only. No one else in the world can crack it, not even people in your own group with those special eyes of theirs." He laughed faintly. "But of course, that also means we won't have to worry about a thing if it doesn't make it to its proper place, other than not getting a response, if you know what I'm saying."

Emil didn't say that the possibility of not getting a replay would probably be worse than getting a fake one. He still believed his mentor was alive and kicking and there was nothing in the world that would make him think otherwise.

"Well anyways, here," he said, carefully putting Allen's pendant on the table next to the drawing. "When you're finished with the letter, just wrap it around it or put it in the envelope." Hearing some thumping from above, Emil sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I guess I should make sure he's fine and stays for the night. If you need something, just tell me."

"Hold on a moment," Lavi said, leaning over to grab his bag and rummage through it, and tossing Emil a small package of medicine. "Here. Quinine. I doubt he'll admit it, but Allen's probably still in pain from that battle wound he got."

Emil smiled and sighed.

"Of course he is." He said fondly. "He's more agitated than ever and it's not only because of what happened to little Timmy." He sighed again. "I appreciate it. Allen does too but he's still too angry with you to say it. I'm going to try to put him to bed now. Good luck finishing your message - if it's not ready yet."

Lavi nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't really finished yet, but he figured he'd set it aside until morning and get some rest himself, before staring at it any longer made his headache progress to a full-on migraine.

"Well, likewise if you need anything else, I'll still be around. If I'm asleep, feel free to wake me. It shouldn't be hard," he said with a stifled yawn.