Chapter 1: Against the Tide

Allen knew he was running away. Running away from everything and everyone, because he knew that wherever he went, his friends and beloved ones got into trouble because of him, the ex-Exorcist. The soon-to-be Noah.

The traitor.

So why, why why why why why did he feel so guilty and alone? He had nothing left for him, couldn't return to the Order, and he would certainly not fall into the Millennium Earl's open arms. He had Timcanpy with him, but Allen could only run straight ahead and never, ever look back for the fear they'd find him. Especially the Cardinal, whom in fact was the Apocryphos, and was probably already hot on his trail.

Allen was freezing. Thick, heavy snowflakes fell around him, surrounding himself in a vast, white landscape with dark, looming trees. His fatigued and hurt body was easily hidden by the shadows, engulfing him whole. He liked them, the shadows, as a calmness would always wash over him. It also reminded him much too often of one broody and fervently fearless person.

Allen missed that person. He shouldn't, he knew that… but the aching pain in his chest disagreed with his thoughts. Every reminder of the Samurai left him dizzy and gasping for breath.

No, he couldn't erase the shock and the bitter fury when the Samurai's Mugen went right through his abdomen in the man's attempt at killing Akuma Alma. Thanks to the Earl—thanks to Allen. Even now he still felt the phantom pain from where he got stabbed.

But on the other hand, Kanda wasn't in his right mind at that time, blinding rage had taken over (thanks to the Earl's manipulation games). And there were also those times when Kanda would stare at him without saying a word; something burning in the man's cobalt eyes. It haunted his mind, sometimes so often it would become too much to bear, wishing he could rewind time.

The fluttering of small wings distracted him out of his thoughts. Timcanpy sensed his master's distress and nestled in the young man's hair, trying to comfort him with little pats.

"I'm okay, Tim. Don't worry, we'll be fine..."

The ex-Exorcist knew he got close to some kind of mental breakdown, almost wistfully wishing that the Crows, the Order, Tyki or any other Noah (but he could surprisingly appreciate Tyki Mikk when he wasn't with the others) would just capture him, torture him, and ultimately kill him so that all this shit would be over.

That'd be too easy, of course. And giving up wasn't in Allen's nature. Deep inside, like a thick knot, his stubbornness to stay alive hadn't diminished yet.

He gripped his malformed arm tighter to his body, wincing when he accidentally grazed the deep and bleeding gash around the feathery shape of his Innocence. A sharp sting shot up his arm. Timcanpy got out of his hair and flew around his head in worry.

"I know, Tim."

He missed Kanda. He missed the little insults thrown at his head. The quick banters. The sparks of electricity when they were about to fight because of a disagreement. The admiring looks he would give him when Kanda wasn't paying attention. The way Kanda would walk gracefully through the halls of the Order or determined when he had to kill Akuma. The curious glint in his eyes, or even the smirk when he was taunting Allen.

Allen yearned for all those small things again. But he had no idea where the Samurai could be, if he was ever going to show up again.

So, he kept trudging through the thick snow, letting whatever conviction he had left be the source to go on.

Allen had been stumbling through the snow for some time now, it was starting to twilight and soon night would fall. There was still no village or city in sight, only trees, rocks, trees and more rocks. The cold was biting through his clothes, and he started shivering. He'd need to find a place to warm up, a cave or something in the likes. He felt so tired he could lay down and take a nap.

The ex-Exorcist wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, so he failed to notice the movement off his far-left side. A dark shape silently blended with the obscurity of the trees, hiding behind a thick bark.

If Allen weren't so lost in his thoughts, he probably would've heard a twig break, and would have noticed the sudden change in the air, but the cold and pain numbed his senses. His loud, ragged breathing made it difficult to hear any small sounds at all, besides himself.

He only got a warning, when Timcanpy alerted him. His cursed eye activated as soon as the loud screeching of a Level 3 erupted in the environment. Allen didn't even get the time to turn around or the boy was thrown down in the snow with sharp knife-like fingers digging deep in his shoulder, where his cursed arm was already hurt. He screamed, the pain almost excruciating when the Akuma twitched and turned its claws in his tender red flesh, its nasty mouth twisting in an evil grin.

"Tim! Get out of here!" Allen yelled at the little golem. Timcanpy wasn't sure what to do; only when his master barked at him again to get the hell out of here, did he fly away fast.

"You really should pay more attention to your surroundings, mister Walker." The Akuma put a bit more weight on Allen's shoulder, the snow beneath him already turning a pinkish red. Allen cursed. He should have been more careful indeed. Too late to linger on the should a's and would a's; he had to eliminate the Akuma before he lost consciousness.

I can't pass out or Nea—

He wasn't certain if his Innocence was going to cooperate in its current state, but it was a risk he had to take. Trying to regulate his breathing, he focussed his grey eyes on the Akuma, and although he didn't feel like it, he smirked to mislead the Akuma with his bravado.

"I guess you're right. I should've been more attentive. It won't happen again, trust me," he said coldly, and before the Level 3 could react, Allen's sharp Crown Clown claws pierced the hideous monster right where its heart should have been if it ever had one.

Since the Apocryphos's attack in the Order's dungeons, he didn't know how long he could hold onto the Crown Clown effect due to the Innocence's instability. While the Akuma retracted its own claws from Allen's shoulder, the young man slumped back with a small cry. Allen heaved a deep sigh and just when he was about to go for another attack, an eerie chuckle came from the monstrous figure. It lazily arose back to its feet, and the Level 3 seemed even more gleeful that Allen's Innocence didn't function properly and barely caused much harm.

"It seems that you've weakened some bit, little boy. This is great, really great. The Earl would be pleased with the news that Allen Walker, Destroyer of Time, can't fully rely on his poor little Innocence anymore," it drawled out while circling around Allen.

Allen realized that, if he didn't eliminate the Akuma as fast as possible, he might get into deep trouble. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and he heard the familiar voice of Kanda scoffing in his head.

"No time to idle around and twirl with your fingers, stupid beansprout. Get a move on before I tear you a new one."

Allen chuckled, shaking some white strands out of his sight. It was ridiculous and he knew it, thinking about that moron in such desperate times. Yet, he also felt a surge of strength gathering inside him, like Kanda was right there with him, fighting alongside Allen. They were always kind of competing with each other, gauging who was stronger or better or fitter. It's strange, because it felt like ages ago, when it really was only a few months. Everything wasn't messed up yet during that time.

Then it all came crumbling down in a mass of dead bodies.

"No time to think about that, Walker," he murmured to himself. He really had to get rid of the Akuma, before things got worse. Not that he would get far, per say. His shoulder and arm already made him react slower, every nerve twitching in protest with the smallest movement. Blood was leisurely seeping out of his wounds.

And Allen doubted that he could trust on his Innocence either, seeing how painfully quick Crown Clown vanished when Allen summoned it.

This, he realized, can get extremely hazardous. With no use of his left arm and his power, he had to come up with a plan, and fast.

As if the monster could read his mind, the Akuma howled and made its move. Allen didn't even get the time to blink before he's harshly being thrown into a tree trunk. A silent scream escaped his mouth, and he had no time to recuperate, or a second Akuma, a Level 4, charged at him. This time, Allen managed to evade a dangerous blow to his abdomen, and instead, the seraphim-like Akuma shrieked and scratched Allen's cheek. It stung, crimson droplets dripping onto the snow.

Fuck.

Now he was in a great disadvantage. The young man wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this, alive but battered, or shredded in a thousand pieces. He was starting to hope for a miracle to happen, for his Innocence to come to his aid—something.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

The two Akuma's were laughing when they approached Allen like they got all the time in the world. These monsters always had upset Allen. How they so easily enjoyed killing people, torturing, and playing with their victims or targets. It sickened him, his cursed eye throbbing whenever he saw the agonized souls, chained, crying for salvation. It sickened him even more that he couldn't save them all.

The Akuma's were close enough now to inflict some harm, but before they got a chance, the all too familiar First Illusion hit them both in the chest region. They stumbled back with the impact of the strong attack. A second wave hit the exact same place and managed to crack their sturdy armour.

The Akuma's were furious and shrieked. One grabbed Allen by his throat and shielded itself with the young man's body. The Level 4 Akuma was taunting whoever attacked and grabbed Allen's hair so that the ex-Exorcist would look up. Allen gazed around, frantically searching for the person that couldn't possibly even be here. Allen had left him behind, in Matel, he had left him hurt. There was no way that that person would've forgiven him for his sinful deeds.

A tall shape became visible through the snowfall. Long dark hair swayed gracefully with the wind, the familiar katana sheathed at their side, and cobalt eyes boring straight through Allen's soul.

"Kanda!" His voice broke, still not believing that the Samurai was really here, alive and well. He felt incredibly light and warm, but the pain and coldness lingered right at the edge of his consciousness, accompanied with memories still fresh in his mind.

Kanda stopped some distance away, and Allen noticed something tiny, golden, and round fluttering around the Samurai. Allen grinned.

Timcanpy, you hero.

"Isn't that the guy the Earl used to awaken Alma, and in turn the Fourteenth?" asked the Akuma holding Allen captive.

"Yeah, I thought he died together with the other guy," replied the other.

"Dead or not, seems like the pretty Exorcist has joined our entertainment show." The first Akuma grinned, his grip on Allen's throat tightening. Allen choked as black dots started dancing before his eyes. He might pass out very soon. Moments like these were dangerous as the Fourteenth could take over his mind and body.

Kanda seemed to have taken notice of Allen's distress. He took a step forward, withdrawing what looked like a different Mugen out of its sheath.

"You have something that belongs to me. I'd like to have it back," he spoke, the cold chill in his voice telling them he wasn't pleased, at all.

"Right. Now."

The Akuma's didn't do or say anything for a moment, when they started laughing maniacally. Their cackling died down, claws grazing down Allen's dirty face, all the while they held Kanda's stare. Allen hissed, but otherwise didn't avert his eyes from the Samurai's tense frame.

"You mean this broken toy? Really? I think it would be better if I just handed this ragdoll over to the Earl. He can't wait to have the Fourteenth by his side, as you would know, Exorcist."

It shook Allen for good measure, more blood splattering the snow. Allen was having even more difficulties to get some oxygen in his lungs. His lungs began hurting as he gulped for air, the sensation burning down his throat, he was suffocating.

He hated being this helpless. It made him feel weak, and being weak meant he could easily be overtaken by the Noah residing inside him.

When Kanda glanced at Allen, something shattered inside him. He could never forgive himself for what he had done. He'd hurt his friends in so many possible ways, and he knew he hurt Kanda the most, betrayed him, because Allen was convinced Kanda was going to die together with Alma in Matel. And when the protector of the Heart of all Innocence made itself known, Tyki and Rhode coming to his rescue in the dungeons where he was being held captive for his so-called treacherous behaviour, he had already lost everything.

So, if the Apocryphos was hell bent on merging with Allen, unite with his Innocence, what other choice did he have, than run away with the arch enemy?

Like a fucking coward.

Warriors never ran away.

But all he could see when he stared back at the Samurai, was worry, a whole lot of frustration and something he couldn't describe. It's like somehow, Kanda could care less about what had happened, and that which mattered now was dismembering the Akuma's.

There was also so much anger in Kanda's eyes, so much hostility in his stance when he focussed back on the Level 3 and Level 4. Even Allen felt a chill run down his spine while he watched Kanda mumbling words, preparing his attack.

Everything happened in a blur. Allen felt himself being thrown away, again, landing harshly on some rocks. He heard clashing and snapping and roaring and when he got the chance to look up, he could see how Kanda's tattoo had spread, black lines crawling on his throat and side of his neck.

He wasn't fooling around.

The Akuma's crowed and grimaced, managing to avoid a few blows. Kanda was being relentless in his attacks that grew stronger and stronger, his katana glowing with bright power. His eyes gleamed, his pupils were slitted and his lips in a thin line.

Focussed.

Belatedly, Allen suddenly understood what this aching in his chest meant. Every time the Samurai crossed his mind, his heart throbbed. He watched how lithe Kanda's body moved, how his jaw was set tight, teeth clenching, and eyes ablaze. How whenever Kanda looked at him, it unnerved Allen so much that he unknowingly craved for more.

The sudden realization that he might perhaps have stronger feelings for this man than what he first imagined, left him kind of speechless. It had taken him years and so much sadness and regret to finally comprehend these feelings that were deeply nestled in his heart. And what had Allen done? He ran away with his tail between his legs, because of all the chaos and deaths that he had caused, and he couldn't face the guilt.

So many deaths.

Yet Kanda hadn't hesitated to run after him, his mind set on finding Allen. And the same Exorcist was fighting against the Akuma's, for Allen, to save him.

It seemed like Kanda was gaining the upper hand, which, really, wasn't surprising. He'd always been an amazing fighter, extremely skilled and cunning. Yet Allen had a feeling that something had changed around the man. It was as if he'd finally found disclosure with whatever had been haunting him up until now, and that he'd found his inner peace which he sought for such a long time.

A shrill scream pierced through the air, which brought Allen's attention back to where the fight was taking place. He saw that the inferior Akuma was down on the dirty snow, unmoving. Kanda's glaring at it, his grip tight around Mugen's hilt.

There's still one Akuma left. The ugly seraphim, the deadliest of the two. It hovered above the ground not too far away, emitting a sinister aura. Without a warning, it charged with lightning speed at Allen. In his panic, the ex-Exorcist tried to activate his Crown Clown, but with Apocryphos's attack on his Innocence, instead of giving what Allen wanted, the feathery Innocence grew bigger, almost wing-like. The young man bit back a cry—

It hurts!

—the agony pulsing through his muscles in his left arm. He wasn't even capable of defending himself. He really was a broken toy.

The Akuma shrieked when it got closer and closer, ready to rip the ex-Exorcist to pieces.

Ba-thump.

Oh, no.

Ba-thump.

This isn't the time for—

His breathing became laboured when Allen heard the chuckle of the Fourteenth echoing in his head, urging to take over. Allen's hair became sticky from sweat, and he pinched his eyes closed. Panic started to settle in.

Ba-thump.

"Not now," he whimpered. Timcanpy was frantically flapping around his master, completely helpless at what to do that could aid his master.

Ba-thump.

"Beansprout!"

Just when the Level 4 was close enough to attack Allen, it stopped its assault mid-air, sensing the change in the human. The Akuma didn't even get a chance, could just see a snippet of gold, before it completely froze in its movement. When the Akuma looked down, a katana emerged through his torso. The Level 4 gave a few twitches; cursing both the ex-Exorcist and the Samurai, before the second Akuma went limp and died.

Kanda slowly locked eyes with Allen—no, not fully Allen, it was partially the Fourteenth. Kanda scoffed, cleansed his Mugen and sheathed the weapon.

"Che, stupid beansprout. Can't leave you alone without you getting yourself into deep shit."

The young man's breath followed each other in short gasps, tried to contain Nea, while Kanda strode the short distance towards him.

The ex-Exorcist managed to quirk his lips in a vain smile, not really credible as the pain and inner turmoil with Nea was still making him feel very wary and tired.

"Stupid, who're you calling an idiot?" he tried to laugh when he saw a sudden movement coming from the first—and what they assumed defeated—Akuma.

Next thing Allen knew, he only had time to scream Kanda's name. The next moment he felt a sting in his back, then his front. He managed to shield Kanda from the Akuma's last attack with his own body. He couldn't even remember moving, that he'd even able to do so in his current state—half-changed with Nea at the edge of his sanity.

It didn't matter. As long as Kanda was safe, it didn't matter.

He heard Kanda yell, but Allen's heavy eyes were concentrated on the Akuma's empty, black orbs. With a light quirk of his lips, blood already slipping down his chin, he managed to croak something that only the Akuma could hear.

"I'll be coming for you all... soon."

The Akuma gasped, before it finally slumped down on the blood-soaked snow, and stayed down until it slowly vanished into thin air, the imprisoned soul released.

Allen who was in struggle, felt his body heave, coughed once, twice. He brought his hand up to wipe away at his mouth, and he when he brought his hand to eye-level he saw crimson.

He frowned and glanced down at where he had felt the sting—where the Akuma had punctured his abdomen. Blood was flowing out of the deep wound in a slow stream, staining his torn shirt even more. He didn't notice when Kanda took a hold of his uninjured arm, shouting words at him he couldn't understand; he only heard the panic in his normally stern voice.

That's new, thought Allen while the tanned colour gradually returned to his normal skin tone. His body felt like he was floating on clouds. He didn't even feel the cold of the snow when Kanda managed to carefully lay him down, the snow quickly turning a disturbingly shade of crimson. The man kept talking to him, his words seemingly rushed into one another, hands pressing onto his wound while Tim was trying to keep him awake by manner of swiping his tail back and forth over his face.

Allen observed Kanda, and he felt relieved. Sure, he was probably not in a good shape and was losing a lot of blood, but at least he could see Kanda again, here by his side. He smiled, coughed again, covering himself and Kanda with blood spatters and then he saw the Exorcist watching him, face contorted in anger. He saw his lips move, but Allen couldn't hear anything.

The pain in his abdomen and left arm started to throb in a dull ache. The cold, wet snow was seeping through his clothes, and through the thick fog clouding his mind, he realized he was shivering almost violently. Kanda reacted immediately, removing his own coat and placing it over Allen to keep him warm, still talking, eyebrows furrowed.

Allen managed to lift his uninjured arm, icy fingertips touching Kanda's cheek. The man stilled in his rambling, his cobalt eyes widening when he stared at gray coloured ones. The young man's hand trembled, but then Kanda took a hold of it with his own glove-cladded hand. Even through the fabric, Allen could sense the warmth. It made him smile. His eyelids started to droop; fatigue was creeping up on him.

He wanted to tell Kanda how he felt about the stupid idiot before he would pass out. Allen didn't want to regret anything anymore; left things unsaid and hurt Kanda all over again. Although he was doing a pretty poor job by bleeding out here on the snow.

He inhaled, then exhaled.

"K-Kanda," it was tough, trying to articulate with chattering teeth, and the filthy copper taste in his mouth, but his resolve was absolute.

"Kanda," Allen urged on, and said man muttered something under his breath. Allen thought he heard stupid beansprout, and he chuckled brokenly, the shocks going through his body, and it made him wince.

"I am, so sorry," Allen clenched his teeth, "So, so, very sorry."

"Moron, why are you apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong." Kanda glanced at the damage the Akuma had caused to the young man. He took a breath. "It's deep, I'll have to get you to an inn to disinfect it and wrap you up. The haemorrhage needs to be stopped and you've been such an idiot, you stupid beansprout." He began to ramble, which was so unlike Kanda. The sight had to be pretty bad, Allen concluded. He had worse, but he sincerely doubted Kanda would be able to save him this time. At this point, dying might be better than turning into the Fourteenth.

"Listen, Kanda," it took all his remaining strength to speak, and the shivering didn't make it any easier. "Y-you did what you could, and I wish…" he paused, thinking what he was about to say.

"I wish I never let you go alone to Matel." He felt his eyes tearing up, and Kanda's gaze softened.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you all, that I hurt you," his voice cracked, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands of hair. "I-if I could, I'd go back and change everything."

"Beans—"

"But with how things are now, I know it would be better if I died, if the Noah died with me."

Kanda started to protest, but Allen continued, "You know what'll happen if he takes control…" Kanda knew, he knew and that's why he hated the Order, the Noah's, the Earl. Even Cross and that damned Mana. He hated them all for doing this to the agonized boy.

"I can't let that happen Kanda," the last part came out as a helpless cry, and now Allen knew for sure that he couldn't hold back the tears which were flowing down his cheeks. He knew this—him, dying, was the best option.

With the little energy he had left, Allen curled his fingers in Kanda's hair, and pulled him down to smash their lips together, harshly.

It wasn't romantic, it wasn't soft and warm. Their lips where chapped from the cold, and Allen knew Kanda could taste the blood. But in that moment, Allen could care less, too out of it with how everything was unfolding. He hadn't managed to actually tell Kanda how he felt about him, but for Allen this was more than enough to transmit his feelings to the dark-haired Exorcist.

At first, the Samurai didn't move, but then a quiet, soft groan escaped Kanda's lips, and he didn't pull back. He took his sweet time to savour this moment, felt hazy by Allen's touch and realized how he craved more. Until he withdrew his mouth from Allen's.

"Stupid beansprout!" Allen flinched at the reaction, but two strong hands quickly held his face into place so that all he could see was Kanda's expression, fuming at the idiot's stupidity.

"Weren't you the one who told us all that you'd never give up nor give in?!" the man spoke in a strong voice, not even faltering in his words although his heart ached.

Allen startled, "I'm sorry…" He was at loss for words, but Kanda did hit a sensitive snare. Indeed, the ex-Exorcist was always the first one to continue onwards. When he fell down, he'd stand right up. When he'd get attacked, he'd fight right back with ferocity. Allen wasn't someone who'd just give up.

"Yeah, you're right. Stupid Kanda." Allen smiled, a bit of dried blood crusting around the edges. "I'm an idiot," he chuckled, before closing his tired eyes.

"Beansprout!"

Everything went black.

Allen was floating in empty space.

Gray eyes took in their surroundings, seeing nothing more than an endless blackness. Allen could move all his limbs, the wounds had disappeared, and everything fell into serenity. When he spoke, the words weren't words. Rather void tones and they simply echoed around him.

It felt like he was momentarily stranded in-between life and death.

Allen closed his eyes and sensed calmness washing over him. Not even Nea could disturb him in here. There were no feelings of regret, guiltiness, or despair. No more chaos in his mind and heart, only the deep quiet of rightness. This wasn't so bad, after all. Even if he were to be the only soul in this place. He was at peace here with the eternal, vast darkness.

He was safe.

He'd been floating for what felt like hours, although Allen didn't think the concept of time applied in this kind of universe. He sighed, the silence was, ironically, becoming deafening. Then, out of the blue, he heard his name, albeit very faintly. A hum stretched over the darkness.

Not alone, then? Where does it come from? He swivelled towards the sound, languidly gliding through air—it felt like air to him. He almost believed he had grown invisible wings.

He heard his name again, louder this time. He trusted his instincts and glided towards the voice. He abandoned the deep, deep obscurity behind him. It almost felt like it was trying to lure him back, pull him back to the comforts of darkness. But Allen was too focussed on finding who was calling out for him.

When he got to the location where he last heard his name, Allen didn't see or sense anything. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on the young man, and he did start to go crazy.

Then he heard it again, and he seemed to recognize the familiar voice. Way too familiar.

"Beansprout!"

With a startling yell, Allen's eyes went wide open, struggling with his body to sit up—what the fuck happened—when a firm hand grasped his right shoulder and pushed him back down, immobilizing him. He tried fighting against the weight, his mind not yet grasping that it was the Samurai holding him down. When his frantic gaze settled on the face hunched above him, Allen stilled his movements so sudden as if his life source was being sucked out.

"K-Kanda?!" he rasped out, not quite believing that Kanda was here with him—that it wasn't a twisted reality.

Wait. Wasn't Allen supposed to be dead? He sure as hell felt like he had been run over by hordes of horses and carriages. Even his body protested with the smallest movements and his muscles were tense as if wired up in a tight coil. Allen slowly calmed down, using his distraction to examine the place. A rickety, mediocre room, with only the bare necessities. An inn then, he guessed. A small fire was burning, the warmth welcome on Allen's shivering skin.

He saw the many bandages carefully wrapped around his shoulder, torso, and abdomen. There was a dark crimson blotch in the middle of the chest bandage, but he assumed it was alright since the Exorcist was rather placid, so Allen wasn't in any immediate danger. He relaxed a bit more.

Speaking of being calm, Kanda was also very quiet. Allen averted his eyes from his battle wounds and instead, focussed them on Kanda. The man had dark circles under his eyes and looked exhausted. His shoulders were slumped, and his normally perfect brushed ponytail was in disarray, random strands of hair loose around his face. His uniform was dirty with mud and caked blood.

This had to be the first time Kanda looked like real shit and the man hadn't even been bothered by it. Dirt and exhaustion were part of the job, and the Exorcist didn't get easily fazed by it—not anymore.

"How are you feeling?" Kanda broke the tense silence that had settled between them, worry etched in his expression.

"Truthfully? Like I just came back from the dead," Allen sighed. Everything ached, but at least it meant he was alive.

"Thank you, for…" he cleared his throat, a pale blush forming on his cheeks. "For everything, really. I think that… if you hadn't called my name back then, I would have strayed towards the point of no return."

"Che."

Allen gripped the sheets, playing with the rigid material between his fingers. It reminded him of those poorly situated cabins and weird whorehouses Cross took him to. The young man smiled fondly at the memory, until the image of his assassinated master entered his mind, blood everywhere with only his mask left at the windowsill.

He loosened his grip. It was strange experience, that void space. It had been so peaceful, so serene, that Allen had been tempted to stay, as if he were safely draped in cosy, fresh sheets. Now that he was awake with Kanda at his side, he felt guilt bubble up as he almost chose the easy way out. If it weren't for Kanda, he might've gone against his own resolves and promises.

He jolted when the man next to him shifted, placing a warm hand on Allen's white hair.

"Stupid beansprout. You're welcome that I saved your ass." He smirked, and Allen felt warmth spread through his chest at the sight.

"Again." the Samurai added.

Allen huffed, "Whatever, stupid Kanda."

Kanda stood up, picking up his Mugen from the little nightstand. Allen gave him a questioning look.

"I need to go out to get us some supplies. I want to be ready at all times to escape this place if there's any sign of danger." Kanda informed. The moment they had set foot in the little town, Kanda had felt as if someone – or something – was constantly watching them. It gave him the creeps but also made him wary. At any case, he wanted them to be able to get the hell away if something would happen.

Allen didn't question anything and didn't seem to notice there was something off. He simply nodded at Kanda's "I'll be back soon," before the brown door closed after the Samurai.

Timcanpy nudged Allen's cheek with its tiny hands to get more rest. The ex-Exorcist seemed as if he hadn't slept for days, and it would help his healing faster.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, Tim." Allen chuckled and lay down again, making himself comfortable (as much as it was possible on the thin mattress), and let out a yawn. Timcanpy rested itself on Allen's chest, catlike, and Allen's smile softened. Fatigue started to creep upon him, and he felt his eyes droop. It didn't take long before he fell asleep, light snoring resounding through the little room, oblivious to the presence that had followed the pair in town since the attack of the Akuma's.

An eerie figure stood at the entrance of the gates of the town, glasses glistening in the faint light of the torches, wearing a black suit with a simple white collar. The figure wore a smile so wide it seemed like it would tear at the edges.

"Allen Walker… don't think you can escape so easily from me. I am, after all, the Protector of the Heart of Innocence, and you shall become one with me."

When the ex-Exorcist opened his eyes again, they were not the mesmerizing shade of gray—they were gold. The pupils—small and sharp slits—curiously glanced around the room, examining the molded walls and the old ceiling. The decor could use a make-over, what with the old paintings and moist smell. The young man leisurely straightened himself up before letting his attention fall on the little golem, still resting soundly asleep at the end of the bed. The young man blinked slowly, as if he was still in a state of dreaming.

He held that position for a handful of minutes, didn't move but simply studied the golem before a broad grin appeared on his lips. It was his chance to sneak out.

The ex-Exorcist carefully crawled from under the thin sheets, silently as not to awake Timcanpy, and searched for a shirt to wear and hide his bandages. He still had his pants on, and they were good enough for now. He took what seemed like a clean shirt from a chair and got dressed. The pair of shoes standing in the corner were quickly put on his feet and he laced the shoe ties quickly. Without a glance backwards, the gold-eyed man opened the door and closed it soundly, leaving Timcanpy alone in the room without it noticing that his master had left.

"Well, I knew you couldn't be that far away, shounen. How's the arm?"

A tall person stood on some rooftop of one of the houses, and tapped its long hat sideways in a greeting. In the moonlight, Allen—Nea—could make out that it was a man, skin tan and his hair dark and wavy. The young man recognized this mysterious person instantly. He was family, after all. He smiled fondly as Tyki reminded him of himself, when he still had his own body. Nea had longer hair, though.

Still, Noah, nonetheless.

"I see that it's not the Poker boy whom I'm talking to," Tyki said, a bit nervous but hiding it from the other Noah. After a sigh, the Noah of Pleasure jumped off the roof to make a graceful landing on the gray pavement and walked towards the Pianist. Tyki shook his head as if it was a tiring shore to even start a conversation with the Fourteenth.

Which probably would be the case. Tyki couldn't deny he felt excitement, but he also wasn't exactly looking forward to it. The Fourteenth made him uncomfortable for many reasons, but mainly because he couldn't get an insight of the other Noah. Unpredictable, that was the word that came to Tyki's mind, and dangerous.

The third disciple didn't get very close to the traitor of the Noah family. Without a warning, Nea lashed out an attack with Allen's Innocence. It didn't respond as well as with the ex-Exorcist, protesting now that it was the Noah who commandeered the body. But Nea made it work well enough and managed to wound the Noah of Pleasure.

"What the hell!" Tyki could evade the next waves of incoming attacks, noting that the young man's body didn't move as swiftly as when Allen had fought against Tyki. The man didn't get the time to think it through, because the Fourteenth's attacks kept coming at him, one after another after another.

All the while, Nea was grinning like a madman; he was having a blast.

Tyki winced and swiveled his body from left to right. The Fourteenth was relentless but didn't go all out. He still hadn't uttered a single word. It was strange. It unnerved Tyki, getting annoyed at the Fourteenth and how he acted against someone who he was supposed to consider as family. It got under his skin.

"I'm just trying to talk to the boy here, traitor." The venom in his words had struck a chord in The Fourteenth; he faltered for a second, but that was enough for Tyki to find an opening. He called an Akuma Level 3 to aid him. He took his chance and they both went for it, the Akuma as a distraction, and Tyki aiming for the chest.

At the last moment, Nea pulled back, but not fast enough. Luckily for Allen's body, it was only the shirt that got ripped in the process, revealing the bloodied bandages. The view made Tyki connect the dots together as to why The Fourteenth's reflexes and movements were slow. The boy had already been battling against someone or something. The more the ex-Exorcist moved, the more the wounds reopened.

Tyki's attack did seem to create an opportunity for Allen to try and take over his body again, as Nea abruptly hunched over and grabbed his head. He grunted, squinting his eyes as a mental fight was going on between the human and the Noah.

It didn't take long before the golden eyes turned a strange color until they became gray again. Allen's skin was still tan, but a lighter shade. His hair turned white again, but the curly waves stayed. The boy didn't have full control yet, but he wasn't going to let the Fourteenth take over again.

"Nea…" the young man muttered through gritted teeth, "Stop it!"

Nea laughed sharply inside his head, pushing and pulling at the strings in Allen's mind. The boy's Innocence started to react, and the feathery-like shape was already forming around his cursed arm. The pain felt razor-sharp, and Allen almost howled from the sensation.

Is it reacting to the Noah, or to something else? both Tyki and Allen thought at the same time. The Akuma that was used as a distraction started fidgeting and fell back next the Noah of Pleasure.

"Something's not feeling right," the Level 3 murmured to Tyki, who furrowed his brows, because he, too, felt the strange atmosphere in the air.

"Something's reaaaaallly fishy! I can feel it everywhere, this chill like someone is watching us!" the nervous behavior of the Akuma made Tyki even more alert. Allen on the other hand kept his hands over his ears, trying to muffle down the voice in his head and was not paying attention to his surroundings or his enemies anymore. His Innocence was getting out of control, and he didn't know if it was because he was in conflict with Nea or due to the Cardinal's doing. Allen knew his Innocence, being symbiotic, had a will of its own, but it was acting very strange as if it reacted to something.

"Nghn!" A splitting headache started in low pulses at the base of his neck, creeping up to behind his eyes and almost became migraine-like. Allen's arm was hurting him, the feathery Innocence growing and trembling, while the Fourteenth kept pestering Allen.

He was having a shit day again, and Tyki was going to add some more shit onto the pile.

"Sorry, shounen," Tyki said remorsefully. "I'll have to interrupt our little…chat." He couldn't place the sensation he felt creeping up his spine, although it was familiar somehow. If it were the bastard he and Road confronted back at the dungeons, he wanted to get the hell out of dodge. Even if it meant leaving Allen behind this time. The Noah of Pleasure couldn't risk his own life when the Fourteenth was this close to the surface. He just couldn't sacrifice himself to save a traitor.

As if it could predict an ominous presence, a portal appeared behind the duo. Road's portal. The Akuma didn't wait and jumped right through it. Tyki on the other hand waited and turned towards Allen, who was on still crouched on the ground. The man almost felt bad for the kid, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to take him to the Earl in this state anyways.

Allen's state of mind was too unpredictable, too fragile at this point. Nea, if he wished, could shatter the last hold on Allen's will and claim their shared body as his own. Frankly, that could get too nasty for the Tyki's comfort. The traitor might go completely haywire, and The Pianist was a very might foe to go against it on a one-on-one fight.

Tyki tsk'ed and sounded honestly worried when he warned the ex-Exorcist.

"You'd better get away, too." The Noah was almost fully through the portal before he hesitated for a second, shook his head and waved in his familiar way to Allen.

"Or he'll catch you and Heaven knows what it'll do to you. I'm truly sorry I can't save you this time, shounen."

With those parting words, the Noah of Pleasure was gone, the portal vanishing quickly. Allen seemed confused by the Noah's words, yet other matters were more pressing. His skin tone constantly seemed to go from light to dark, which also applied to his eye color. Nea had a firm grip on him this time. Allen's effort to push him back was arduous and exhausted him, it cost him a lot of energy. But for now, the Fourteenth was silent, not pulling on strings as if he were giving Allen a break. The young man tried to stand up, wobbling on his legs and he used the wall of the alley to support him.

He didn't understand why Tyki had suddenly appeared, fought against him to then get warned by the Noah before he had ditched him, leaving Allen to wonder what the fuck had happened.

"What the heck am I even doing here?" He scanned around, saw rows of dark houses, wet pavements and dirty alleys. He was in one those dirty alleys. A poorly lit lamppost was his only source of artificial light, and except for the sound of cats rummaging in garbage cans, it was quiet.

"Where's Kanda and Tim…" he started walking, stumbling over his own feet every few steps. Allen cursed under his breath, he felt drained, and it was like his brains were giving all kinds of wrong signals to his limbs. His coordination sucked.

"Damned Nea, damned Noah's, stupid Kanda! I was at the fucking inn, in a bed! How did I even get here?!" It was difficult for Allen to keep his balance and his Innocence wasn't returning to normal either. The feathers kept steering into a certain direction, like a compass pointing to the North.

"Well, let's say I took us out for a stroll." The annoying voice in his head quipped, amused at Allen's confusion.

"Of course, you did. You took over while I was out of it." Allen gritted out. He hoped no one walked around here by night. If Allen looked as shitty as he felt, surely that person would alert the authorities.

"I simply couldn't hold myself back. Besides, wouldn't it be better if you just gave in, Allen?" Nea spoke in a rather sultry voice, always trying to lure Allen away further and further down memory lane—memories of Mana.

The young man snorted at Nea's remark, advancing in snail space towards the end of the alley, and with a broad smirk said, "You know, there's only one person in this world that made me question my sanity. There were these moments, that that person could push me into such desperation that I had to turn into a monster and play poker with some unfortunate souls to be able to pay off at least some of his debts."

Allen could see the light at the end of the alley. His breathing was getting labored; he felt the sticky wetness when he moved, which meant he was losing blood again. The Fourteenth's presence was mentally draining him. But he had no time to stop, he had to continue and find the inn they were staying at. Kanda should have returned by now, found out Allen was gone and was probably flipping out and calling Allen all kinds of names.

"Unfortunately," Allen continued, "that bastard had this amazing skill to disappear whenever he felt like it." The young man closed his eyes for a moment, the sudden image of his master made him halt his movements.

"Oh, you're talking about Marian Cross." Nea supplied without a single emotion.

"Yeah, that stupid, old, women-crazed drunken bastard," the words were spoken fondly, because he really loved his master. Even if Allen had a rough youth and encountered people that little kids shouldn't even know at their age. Or when Cross left him behind with mountains of debts and angry bartenders running after the little boy and demand their money. The hookers were nice as Cross handled them as goddesses', until he left them the day after without a word. Then it was up to Allen to gather the few things they had and get the hell away to avoid their wrath.

"From what I can remember, he was a good man, a good Marshall. But dunno if I recall him from your memories or mine honestly—it seems blurred together." Nea said, which was followed by a hum. "But he was a ladies man for sure."

Allen couldn't help but chuckle at that, because it was true. When Allen finally reached a fork that went right and left, he chose to go right. He bumped into something hard and almost fell on his arm, but a hand stabilized him. When Allen looked up, words on his tongue to apologize, he was face to face with the Cardinal—the Apocryphos. Allen froze into place, eyes going wide and the Innocence pulsing painfully. It hadn't reacted since Tyki's exit, but the feathers were full on pulling towards the older man. The Cardinal quirked his mouth, face stripped of emotions.

"There you are, Mr. Walker."

To be continued...

A/N: Don't know how many DGM fans are still out there, but I'm still into the manga series! I've practically grown up with DGM, and still love it to bits. Hope you are liking it so far. Constructive critisism is always welcome!