Where the Current Leads: Chapter 2

(Rain-Soaked Memories)

When Kanda woke up, his head was swimming, and a dull pain radiated from his chest to the rest of his body. Sunlight filtered through the open window, and he heard birds chirping somewhere.

"Kanda! You're awake!" the last voice in the universe he wanted to hear shouted from his left, and a little too violently, his head whipped around. The pain became sharp and stabbing, cutting up his neck and down his spine, and he gritted his teeth to prevent himself from crying out. "Oh no… please, don't do that, Kanda! God, I'm so sorry!" The older boy glared through a haze of agony, hissing in a choked voice,

"What are you doing here, beansprout?"

"W-well, about that…"

"What? Spit it out!"

"Um, well, how to put this? Komui said that I have to take care of you until you forgive me for…" Allen trailed off, his face rife with guilt.

"For breaking my collarbone?" Kanda bit out venomously.

"Yes. That." The younger boy hung his head, now practically drowning in guilt. Even worse, it was now almost certain that Kanda's "friendliness" before had been caused by the drugs, his confession included; Allen couldn't believe that Kanda did or could ever feel anything but loathing towards him. But, most of his defensive mechanisms were in working order, and he was able to somewhat convince himself that it didn't matter- for the time being, at least. Plus, it was obvious that Kanda didn't remember even a little bit of what had happened yesterday.

It was at that moment that Lavi chose to visit, interrupting Allen's thoughts. He had his usual mischievous grin on his face, and for a good reason- he had Mugen, Kanda's precious sword, in his hand.

"Hey, Yuu-chan, I brought ya a present!" Kanda's eyes widened and then narrowed to deadly slits when he saw what Lavi was holding. Allen knew what was coming; he'd seem Lavi swipe the sword on numerous occasions, all with the same result. Kanda would tackle Lavi and wrestle the sword away from him, spouting death threats.

So, just as Kanda began his predictable lunge, Allen jumped into action, pinning the injured boy down on the bed by his shoulders. Something pulled at the back of Kanda's mind, something recent and familiar, but vague and indefinite. This annoyed him to no end. After all, it is quite common that affection blooms subconsciously before it does so consciously. His heart knew that memory, but his mind had buried it because Kanda was supposed to hate Allen and that was that. Any deviation from that standard would shake up Kanda's world irrevocably.

So, for now, the only sensible response to being so close to Allen was a deadly glare in his direction and a low, dangerous threat. Ignoring the stabbing eyes and words, Allen fixed Lavi with a stern gaze.

"Put. The sword. Down." Looking mildly frightened, the redhead obeyed, leaning Mugen against the bed, and it was only when he had safely backed away that Allen released Kanda. With a sigh, but still scowling, Kanda relaxed into his hospital bed.

"Do you feel better now?" Lavi piped up.

"About what?!" Kanda snapped, his tone still very biting. Allen, however, knew what Lavi was getting at.

"Lavi brought your sword to you because he knew it would calm you down. He probably had to beg the nurse to let you keep it in your room." Allen explained.

"Oh yeah, and that reminds me. The nurse says that Mugen stays in its sheath or it's scrap metal."

Kanda was silent, and visibly irritated. He didn't particularly enjoy being chastised by someone he "hated," especially if that person had a good point.

"Che." He snorted, rolling over so as not to face Allen and Lavi. Allen rolled his eyes, knowing that that was the closest thing to "thank you" that Lavi would ever get.

All around him was the scent of darkness, the feeling of it creeping around him, stalking its prey, closing in on him- he felt like he couldn't breathe, but he was used to it. This blackness always visited him during the night, it was perpetually a part of his sleeping thoughts, the images his brain showed him, the place where his soul drifted to while his body laid useless. And, as always, he knew what would come next. The darkness would eat him alive, its icy fires licking all the way down to his bones, converging to the mark over his heart, but in the instant before it devoured him completely, he would wake up sweating and shaking.

But everything has changed now.

When the moment of the dream came where he would usually wake up, he shut his eyes tightly, and when he opened them, it was supposed to be gone.

But it remained. He groped about in the pitch-blackness, searching for anything that felt familiar. His voice ventured out, questioning the void, reaching for whatever salvation would be offered.

"Is anyone there?"

The first thing to appear was a pair of silvery, stormy eyes. Then, slowly, more features began to fade in, resolving into a complete picture, as if the other being had been wandering in some other area of the darkness. Without knowing why, he reached out, and so did the other. As the very tips of their fingers brushed, the light came crashing down on them both.

Allen.

The boy's lips curved up into a shy smile, then began to move, but something was odd- his words didn't fit the movements of his mouth.

"Where have you been?"--His lips shaped "I was worried." Kanda stopped listening to his voice altogether, and just watched his mouth.

"I'm so glad I found you.

Let's go back together.

I felt like I would never find my way through this.

We shouldn't stay here too much longer.

Will you be my light?

There was a flood of memory so enormous that Kanda could barely comprehend any of it. There were little bits and pieces, however, that were ringing and clear, even seen through the hazy filter of drugged recollection.

Allen laughing, smiling happily- at him.

A pair of warm hands on his hips.

His own arms spread wide in the air.

And the last thing he remembered; a warmth that had spread from the hollow of his collarbone all over his body, and then, nothing.

When he woke, he heard the pattering of rain running in rivulets down the glass. Occasionally lightning would illuminate the room, or there would be a distant roll of thunder. Asleep in a chair, but leaning onto the bed, was Allen.

Normally, he would look away, but his dream bothered him. It had gone so far beyond his usual nightmares. In fact, it had almost been pleasant. He furrowed his brow, perturbed; pleasant dreams? He didn't need any of that. He wanted that, and that frightened him more than anything. But it was too late; he wanted it now, and could not un-want it, the seeds of wanting had been sewn. Besides, the way Allen looked right now was like fresh rain on dry soil- and with widened eyes, Kanda felt something blooming and something breaking at the same moment in time. The moonlight bounced softly off Allen's pale skin, and it glowed in his hair like a fiery white halo. His eyes darted about under his eyelids, searching, and every so often he would twitch a little.

Then, there was a sound like the sky was tearing in two. Allen jolted awake, looking about in a dazed, panicked frenzy.

"Calm down, beansprout, it's just thunder." His own voice sounded foreign to him- the edge he worked so hard to keep in it had disappeared completely, and his words came out sounding almost comforting. He thanked the gods that Allen was too incoherent to realize it.

"Oh. Were you already awake, Kanda?" Kanda grunted in response, and Allen sighed. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Kanda stiffened. He was not about to talk with Allen about that dream, not before he-- well, no, just not ever.

"No. Not really."

"What do you mean?"

"It was weird."

Surprisingly, Allen just gave a thoughtful noise and didn't ask anything more about it. Even louder than before, the sounds of clouds crashing together shook the room, and Allen's hands tightened in Kanda's sheets. This did not go unnoticed by the other boy. He twitched an eyebrow, the urge bubbling up to reach out and hold one of Allen's hands.

"Are you afraid of thunderstorms, beansprout?"

"N-no! Of course no--" The heavens shuddered once more, and Allen's voice died in his throat. The expression on his face was nothing less that unmasked terror, and his eyes were glazed over, his gaze distant, as if he were lapsing into a memory. He buried his face in his mismatched hands, beginning to tremble violently and mutter incoherently. Fearing he was going insane, Kanda raised his voice.

"Beansprout! Get a hold of yourself!" His voice didn't seem to reach, however. The stricken boy didn't so much as twitch. Left with nothing else to do, Kanda leaned forward (causing himself some pain in the process), and gritting his teeth, he laid his hands on Allen's shoulders.

Startled out of his temporary madness, Allen gazed up at Kanda with wet eyes, taking breath in short gasps.

Nothing was said. Without using words, Kanda had yanked Allen back from the edge, and was keeping him far away from it with a gaze that was soft and steely at the same time.

And that was when, recklessly, Allen threw his arms around Kanda's neck.