Okay. So. Yeah. Updateness. What to say? It's been a while. Once again, I didn't answer a lot of reviews – there's this really long one that I'm gonna find and reply to once I post, because it deserves one really bad – because life is really crazy right now. I'm trying to move out and have two lives and go to Pride in San Fran this weekend, so I'm going a little bonkers, I guess. I'm not quitting or anything. I'm just finding it difficult to find the time I need to work on things and answer reviews. :[

Thanks guys, for being supportive and understanding.

DISCLAIMER OF DEBAUCHERY: I do not own D. Gray-man. If I did, Kanda would break out in The Pussy Cat Dolls "Hush, Hush" every time Allen opens his mouth.

WARNINGS: More pairing madness (but it has a set ending now, I think), Sheryl (D8), Lenalee, and an obnoxious time-line.

– – –

Eighteen: Underneath

The rain was pouring in sheets from the purple-gray sky when the four of them shivered their way onto a train – the second since the crash upon Allen and Kanda's arrival. Link walked more or less unassisted, having made splendid progress with his balance and disregarded the doctor's advice that he should stay. He moved leaning heavily on his right side, something that no one mentioned or even seemed to notice. Lavi noticed. He also noticed that Kanda kept quite the distance between himself and Allen, usually with at least one person between the two of them. He saw how the swordsman shivered under his coat, and how Allen didn't seem to mind the rain at all. He saw the person waiting for them like a shadow at the very back of the platform, top hat tilted to hide the man's expression.

It took every ounce of self-control the apprentice Bookman had to step onto that train and walk to their compartment. And even then, he did not have enough to act like he was happy about leaving. There was some comfort in sharing a seat with Yuu, at least. And the swordsman did not react to him with jealousy and anger like one might have expected, instead he was there with silent reassurance and cool indifference, only cocking an eyebrow when Lavi dug his fingers into the soft red upholstery and they began to pull away from the town. It wasn't a mocking eyebrow. It was an unspoken inquiry into his mental state, one that Lavi could not decidedly answer.

Within the hour, Yuu lay dozing on Lavi's shoulder, and the redhead allowed himself to be pleasantly distracted from his inner turmoil. Distracted by how Allen frowned at the two of them sharing that space, and how Link winced every time the tracks twisted beneath them.

The rain continued to fall.

The sound of the water landing on the metal roof relieved the need for conversation to the point that Lavi wandered into his thoughts eventually, deep into the memories that he had not tried to recall. With Yuu so close it was impossible not to think of the times they had been together, and to mull them over like a heady wine, tasting the past like the notes of a dry red. They had been so close, so very close, twined like two thorny vines, clamoring for proximity that hurt far more than they had intended. They had grown that way, eventually. Now, Lavi realized, removing himself would be like cutting away half of what was there, and leaving the twisted, gnarled Yuu behind to recover.

It made him feel sick to even think about it. Revolted with himself. It was true, he cared about Tyki in ways that he had not cared for anyone, but there were factors that the two of them could not change, things that made that relationship so much less possible...

But Lavi was not looking for what was possible. That was not what would determine things, in the end.

It reminded him, the rain on their window, Kanda leaning on him, and the silence, of that first time that he and the swordsman had found themselves compromised by feelings and attractions that made things awkward. As the redhead recalled it had been the fault of his own flirtatious behavior, one too many puns, and a rather intimate scrape in an alleyway that had lead them down a terrifyingly sexual and angry path and never seen them back to the pseudo-friends they had been.

Kanda's knee between his, Mugen at his throat. It had always been a dangerous game. Soaking wet, in the pouring rain, with the side of his face bleeding from the thinnest cut a sword had ever made, Lavi had trembled at the touch of those perfect lips, fought with the threat of decapitation and struggled with need he could not stand to see unfilled. Yuu's need. Yuu's frustration. It had strung him like a bow to relieve the tension in the swordsman, and driven them both well beyond the breaking point to get there.

Lavi remembered the vulnerable, frightened look that had filled Yuu's eyes the moment Lavi had reached forward and touched him. And he remembered telling the Japanese boy that it was okay, because Lavi had been flirting with him, so it was to be expected.

They had never put a label on it. They had never claimed to be more than friends. Even when the redhead sought out Yuu's company in order to hold himself together more than once, even when Yuu wordlessly fell asleep in the lounge next to Lavi, even when they both found equal amounts of physical and emotional comfort in each others presence, they never called themselves more than friends or acquaintances. It was like pretending it was more would have shattered their happy illusion.

But there was that one time, after three days of constant fighting on Yuu's part, without sleep or food or even water, that the two of them had stumbled their way into a bedraggled inn and fallen into bed together. That time had been different. Without that bit of contact sleep would have remained illusive, held at bay by tension and self-preservation and the fear that another Akuma would be there the moment their guard was dropped. It had been sweet and slow and filled with warmth that Lavi's hadn't been able to name. Sex did not feel like that. Sex did not leave him curled on his side around a naked arm, lost in the strength of what had happened even as sleep consumed him.

Tyki's bloodlust had been insatiable and overpowering. That night – or had it been a day? – had been nothing like that at all.

Lavi closed his eyes and fished in his pocket for the patch with which he would cover his right. Even if he could not decide now, it didn't matter. It wouldn't, until he knew what to do.

– – –

She had been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for her body to recover, and when it finally had, she had dashed to her destination, done what needed to be done, and returned within the week. Komui had figured her out almost right off, but hadn't mentioned it. Instead, he allowed her two or three days to rest between assignments and kept her informed to the absolute best of his ability. She was thankful in many was, and irritated in others. When the news came that finally, after months, Kanda and Allen and Lavi were all coming home, Lenalee nearly threw herself into the scientist without restraint, but stopped herself just short. He deserved a real hug, not some maddeningly quick parody.

She had not expected the four of them, counting Link, to wander in looking like drowned, tortured rats. Lavi might have been the strangest of all. He seemed empty, lost within his own thoughts, without his customary (if forced) smile on his face. They all looked tired. Kanda – and she knew him well enough to tell – had the expression that he had been shoved through a ringer, both physical and mental, and he had not yet had the time to sift through all the pieces left behind. Oddly, though, Allen seemed the best off. Usually he came home sporting more injuries than anyone else, but now he simply seemed worried about Kanda and quietly supportive of Link walking at his side.

Lenalee did not hug them. Instead, she greeted them with a soft smile and the suggestion that she carry someone's luggage.

They didn't let her.

It was all she could do to silently follow them through the front of the cathedral and then wait while they decided what to do. It made her inwardly snicker how the four them said so much with only momentary glances.

"I'll take Link to the medical wing." Allen volunteered allowed. "Kanda should come too, if only—"

"I'm going to bed." Kanda stated rather baldly. His tone said that he did not care if it was only six in the evening and Komui would want to know all of the details of the last few months in the next twenty-four hours. Indeed, the way he said it coupled to the unhealthy shade to his skin made Lenalee furrow her brow at him. He would tell her later. There was very little he didn't tell her eventually.

Lavi shifted uneasily on his feet. "I'll... go talk to Komui, then talk to gramps. They'll both want the short rundown on what happened. Then..." He unleashed a long, deflating sigh. "Shower and sleep, I think. I don't think I can even eat at this point."

To Lenalee's silent horror, Allen grunted in agreement.

"Who wants to tell me about it?" She inquired with a rather hint-filled cock of her right eyebrow. Perhaps it was the cheerful way she said it that got all three of her friends to look at her with quizzical expressions.

"Go with Yuu-chan." Lavi said softly. "He's got a better handle on things than I do."

"Lavi—" Kanda tried to say something, but a severe look from the apprentice Bookman stilled him.

"Maybe she can help me with all of this. Tell her."

A lot had happened, Lenalee noted. More than a lot. Her excitement at seeing them, her desire to throw her arms around each of them in turn and reassure herself that they were real, her fear that all of her brother's recent scowls had something to do with their mission – those things were not nearly as important as what had happened while they were gone. There was some strange form of trust that blanketed the three male Exorcists, and excluded her only because she hadn't been there. They wanted to trust her. If they hadn't, Lavi would not have demanded that Kanda contribute to her knowledge.

Silently, they parted ways.

Her light shoes made almost no sound in the hallway compared to Kanda's boots, which clomped like he hardly had the energy to lift them. They didn't speak for a long time. Indeed, Lenalee began to wonder if they were going to talk at all when they came to the large wooden door that opened into Kanda's room. He glanced back at her before he opened it, and left it slightly ajar after he stepped inside.

It was as close to an invitation as she was going to get.

The room was Spartanly furnished, with a bed, a dresser, a three legged stand, and a desk at which to write reports. With the lights on it seemed rather homely, though also filled with dust, and the way Kanda moved with quick familiarity – threw his jacket almost at once over the back of the desk chair, slid his packed suitcase against the foot of the bed – reminded Lenalee of all the times she had invaded Kanda's personal space with a less warm welcome. This time, when he tugged his shirt out of his belt and threw himself haphazardly down on the mattress, she shut the door and leaned against it, perfectly aware that now was usually the time Kanda took to himself.

The dark eye that looked at her – just one eye, the other covered in a swath of white bandage – seemed to look deeper than was absolutely necessary. The Japanese Exorcist rarely looked at people when he spoke to them if he knew them well, choosing instead to look at whatever was taking half of his attention, be it a report or a tray of food or a flower. Now, he looked at her. If he saw that she was curious and worried and concerned and a little perplexed, Lenalee could not say, but after a moment he directed his gaze toward the stone ceiling instead.

"Should I sit down?" Her voice sounded far too loud in the quiet stone room.

He grunted.

Lenalee sighed. "Did something happen...between you and Lavi?"

The way his eye widened – like she didn't know from that exchange in the hall – told her that either something had or he was so shocked at her suggesting it he didn't know how to react. After the briefest of moments he regained control of himself and redirected his eye back toward the ceiling, narrowed just slightly.

"The bean's part isn't mine to tell, but the rest..." Kanda took a deep breath before he went on. "I guess it started when our train derailed itself on arrival..."

– – –

Lavi had thought that he understood Komui, for the most part, but now, he was not so sure. It was one thing to get a bright, welcoming smile, and another to be on the receiving end of one of the hugs usually only reserved for Lenalee. It made Lavi feel better, however. Someone was glad of his homecoming, even if his mentor was not. Even if Yuu wasn't, really. Perhaps Komui saw that he was exhausted in more ways than one, Lavi didn't know, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

So it was that when he had extracted himself from the older man's hold, Lavi sank like a lead weight against the sofa in front of Komui's desk and rested his head in his right hand. He did not know what question would be first, nor if he would want to give the most damning answer without a shower, a meal, and a night of sleep, but he pushed the thought into the farthest corner of his mind. Komui would understand what happened. And if he didn't, if somehow the supervisor thought of him as some sort of sick traitor, Bookman would somehow protect him from the worst of it. Somehow.

"And now that you're back," Komui said with a tired, wide smile. He might have aged ten years since Lavi had last seen him. But there was relief behind his eyes, too. "Would you like to have your hammer before I send you off for a few days of rest and recovery?"

For a moment, the redhead simply blinked. Before he could stop himself, the words simply came tumbling out of his mouth. "Really? There's not gonna be some... long arduous interrogation about where I was and what I did and what I told who?"

Komui's smile turned suddenly soft. "No. I'll want a report by the end of the week on all of the excruciating details, but I'm sure that you've been through enough already. Knowing that you're all safe is good enough for the time being. Bookman will be returning from the field next week, and he is perfectly aware that you're safe." The scientist leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses in a half-elegant flourish, revealing true thankfulness beneath the layers of tiredness and worry.

"Thank you." Lavi whispered the two words and found that he had never felt them to be truer.

"Go grab something hot to eat and a shower. Maybe not in that order." Komui encouraged. "I'll have your Innocence when you're finished."

The redhead nodded before he pushed himself up like an old man clamoring to his feet. He was skipping out the door with a smile before the scientist even had the time to wave goodbye.

– – –

By the time he had told her everything, by the time the words had been extracted from him like venom from a snake bite, Lenalee was seated against his door and Kanda had one arm thrown up to bock his good eye. It felt good to get it out. It felt wonderful to let the emotions run their rampant course, even if it left him drained. The dark outside of his window, coupled with the lowering temperature, made him want nothing more than to let his tired body and worn out mind rest for a few delicious hours. But even that, he knew, wouldn't be enough just yet. Now that the words were out where they could be felt and heard and understood he knew that the one thing he wanted more than anything else was to fall asleep with someone beside him.

Preferably Lavi. Preferably tangled so only the basic principles of physics kept them separated. The ache was so intense Kanda did not respond to the shifting of Lenalee's weight to her feet, nor did he pay much heed to the extinguishing of his lights. He followed the sound of her voice, however, and winced a little at the opening of the door.

"I'll talk to Lavi. Not tonight. You both need time to just... be. I don't know if I'll help him at all, but he should at least know the truth, even if that isn't mine to tell." At times like these, when she spoke with that quietly authoritative voice, it was almost like she and Komui really were siblings in that regard. They had the same serious quality when lecturing the person they thought of as a younger sibling. "If you need anything..."

He nodded into his arm and waited for the door to shut.

The quiet was heavy like a blanket sewn from sheets of lead held together by threads of steel. It threatened to suffocate the swordsman after only the shortest of moments, made thicker by the lack of light, the stone all around him. Like being buried. Like a stone sarcophagus, filled with all of his thoughts. But Kanda did not want to break that stifling silence. It was cold and familiar, like a long distant childhood memory that he could sometimes half-recall. Even if he could hardly draw breath it was better than the alternative.

It had been a very, very long time since a nightmare had gripped him when awake, since a memory had clawed its way into the surface of his mind and torn away at reality to the point that he lost all of it – not the edges or the details or the parts that he wasn't directly looking at, but all of it. But he was tired, and the cold, the dark, the feeling of dullness in his right arm, was so familiar, that it was hard for him to hold on. He wasn't physically strong enough to resist the pull of his mind. His mind was too tangled in things he could not properly sift through to respond how he wanted it to. And he was alone.

Alone. He had been alone.

The sound of the door coming open did not quite shake the illusion – nothing ever could – but it jerked his stiff right arm down away from his face and let the slightest sliver of light into his left eye. After a brief struggle to bring the intruder into focus Kanda gave up and let himself sag against his mattress. It was either Allen or Lavi, and he wasn't in a position to tell either of them to go away. Not when he was about to lose a much needed night of sleep to little more than a nightmare.

The door closed again, dimming the space again. The scent of soap permeated the small room before a soft, smooth hand found the side of the swordsman's face and pushed back his bangs, then moved down to push away his arm. It was not until a pair of warm, gently parted lips touched Kanda's, and a curious, slightly uncertain tongue slipped softly through the seal of his lips that he knew who it was. He would have said something regrettable if not for that kiss. Instead, he reached out with his left hand until he found the wet hair he was searching for and wound his fingers up in it, tugged the other boy lower. This wasn't a promise, Kanda knew, but it was an escape. A wonderful, momentary escape for both of them.

And it would hurt so much more if things ended after it. But Kanda could not truly say that he cared.

There were no verbal commands exchanged while they pulled off shirts and pants and undergarments, but they paused for the bandages. It had only taken once for them to learn that lesson. Now, when they had tested that Kanda would not bleed to death without the linen holding his face and chest together, they gently peeled aside those little bits of fabric and fell together, fingernails tripping on skin. Kanda felt himself shudder, felt the other boy hesitate when their bodies became flush.

He wanted so much to be selfish – he would have been, if he really didn't care. Instead, with all of his will, the swordsman placed his stronger arm across the redhead's bare chest and held him slightly back, searching for an expression in the dark. What he saw – the regret, the fear, the guilt, the need – made him want nothing more than to finish what the apprentice Bookman had started. But that would not change anything. It would not save anyone. And even if Kanda did not save people, he saw no purpose in soothing the pain only to tear open the wound further.

"Yuu..." The name was spoken like a velvet soft caress.

He shook his head at it, but drew Lavi closer all the same. "Che. Don't do this if you're trying to make one of us feel better."

The redhead's expression didn't change. "I know. But..." There was so much skin touching already that the slightest shift was like fire, setting them to a low simmer. Lavi did not seem to notice. "I... there's so much that's gone wrong, so much that's fallen apart, and I can't fix it. I can't undo what I've done, unfeel what I've felt. But this, with you..." Lavi closed his eye and shook his head just slightly. "I can at least try to understand what we have and what it makes me feel, what it makes you feel." There was still so much uncertainty in the apprentice Bookman's expression, but there was also determination in his eye. "Right now, I feel like I did when you were gone for two months on that super-obnoxious suicide mission and you came home looking like someone had put you through a dull meat-grinder. Do you remember what I did that day?"

Kanda did. Very well. He wasn't sure which part had made him more sore – the mission, or the homecoming. Thinking on it, the redhead looked almost the same.

"Thing is..." Lavi went on without waiting for an answer. "There isn't anything I can do. Even if I really... love Tyki, I can't run away to be with him. It can't happen. You aren't a replacement – I would never do that to anyone – but it's stupid of me to feel like this when a relationship with him isn't even possible. That should be enough to make me stop thinking about it. It would have been. Before."

"No." Kanda interrupted, and realized a bit belatedly that he had spoken in a soft, nonthreatening whisper. He rarely spoke in that voice, and when he did, it was usually because he did not have the strength to feel angry at the moment. Now, it was because Lavi was naked beside him, their skin touching, and Lavi was thinking his own humanity into complexity. "We were never supposed to happen, but that didn't stop you."

In the dark, it was hard to tell if Lavi purposely ran his fingernails across Kanda's collarbone or if it happened by chance. "Look, it's complicated. Can we go back to kissing now? It's all... I don't know. But I miss you. Right now, more than anything else, I just... miss you..." It was not fair that he could lean in so close, that he could draw Kanda to him like metal to a magnet. It was not fair that the touch of his fingertips was addictive like some kind of drug.

Kanda kissed him. He kissed Lavi deep and hard, seeking out the old places, the places he knew, before he pulled away and took the other boy by the shoulders. "Then just sleep with me." Kanda hated himself for saying it, hated himself for making the redhead's hopeful expression fall. "As much as you want to be with me right now..."

How much of that wanting is meant for someone else?

Lavi seemed to hear the unspoken question. He closed his eye and pressed an open palm to the expanse of Kanda's chest. "Then hold me."

Usually, Kanda did not allow for much cuddling before sleep, but this was an exception. Gently, aware that there was a large chance Lavi did not think of the arms around his bare chest as Kanda's, the swordsman wrapped the redhead in a loose embrace and pulled him into a more comfortable position against the mattress. In the dark, naked, wound together as they were, Kanda wished silently that he had allowed the redhead what he asked for, even if it was not really what he wanted.

– – –

Allen did not sleep well. He dreamed things that hurt and things that smiled and things that no longer mattered. He woke standing by the window, looking out at the dismal sky, his right hand clenched around his left in a death-grip that would have bruised anyone else. He felt as if he had been pacing all night, stiff-backed and bone-weary. He could not, however, recall if he had been. The only thing he could remember were his strange dreams and the feeling that he might have done something regrettable.

The fire in his veins started the moment he and a somewhat uncomfortable looking Link made their way to the cafeteria. Kanda was at one of the long tables, sitting across from a crestfallen Lavi, the swordsman's long fingers wrapped delicately around a pair of chopsticks. Allen did not like how at ease the two looked. He did not like that Kanda was eating with his left hand, his right tucked in close to his body, though no longer bound. The part that filled Allen's chest with anger, however, was the soft way Lavi smiled at Kanda, with tenderness and understanding in his expression, with the light of hope and the fire of longing burning in his eye.

Mine.

The word echoed in his head before he silenced it. It etched itself on the surface of his mind so he could feel it there every time he looked at Kanda.

Still, when he seated himself he did it so he could not look at the two other boy's sharing their breakfast.

– – –

There was an official inquiry into what had happened while Lavi was gone, one that mostly took place in Komui's office on the third day the apprentice Bookman had been home. It went well, all things considered. The redhead simply explained that he knew no details of the Noah's plans simply because he had not asked about them – indifference had lead to a lack of curiosity, and caring had lead to a lack of attention to detail. Chronologically his answers and information lined up with what Kanda had told them to the point that there was simply no excuse to keep him from missions or place him under observation. His Innocence, once returned to him, flared to life with little more than a word.

Lavi accepted a mission for the following day without even thinking. If it kept him away from Bookman, he would take it. If it kept him close to Yuu, he would make it last twice as long as it needed to last.

When he found himself sitting on a train across from Lenalee, he thought he might have wanted to punch something. But punching was too rude a response to not being on a mission with Kanda, so he sat in contemplative silence, watching her watch the scenery, hating that he could not blurt to her the things that had happened while they were chaperoned. At least, after nearly fifteen minutes of watching the trees outside reflect in her lavender eyes, their Finder excused himself to the bathroom.

The redhead did not launch himself into an explanation. Instead, he waited for her to look at him and smile like she didn't care about anything else at the moment.

He smiled softly back.

"Brother told me you've had a hard time of things," Lenalee said in a tone that was neither accusatory nor casual. She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head to the side so that her short dark hair dangled slightly into her face. "Did you want to tell me about what happened?"

She didn't tell him if Kanda had told her everything already, which left him with little else to do himself. But it would be stupid to assume that she didn't know anything, that she hadn't already prepared some sort of advice if he didn't say a word. He swallowed and allowed his left eye to turn out the window in the direction of the sun. "I don't know what happened." He said honestly, and felt the part of him that was proud of being a Bookman shiver in grayish self-disgust. "When I'm not with Tyki, it feels like it all happened in some sort of dream, and yet I still wanna see him and tell 'im that it'll be fine. I don't know what fine is. But in my head it's a lot like seeing each other every day and not worryin' about killing each other." It was stupid of him, but he still felt his lips lift a little. "It's strange, isn't it? Not knowing what to do when logic tells you exactly what you should. But I don't care about logic. I don't care about a lot of things. Tyki..." He felt his right hand draw into a tight fist against his leg. What was Tyki? Under the human skin, behind the darkness, what was there? Was the thing that drove him human or not?

For the shortest time, it hadn't mattered. It was driving Lavi mad that it did now.

"What is a heartless person supposed to do?" He heard his voice, soft and broken, crack into the silence between them. It was like a dry, crinkled leaf under his boot, the sound so unimportant and yet unstoppable. "A heartless person would take what he could get, wouldn't he? He would forget what he had felt, what he could feel, and go with what felt good now, wouldn't he? That would be the easy way out, wouldn't it?"

"Lavi..."

The redhead looked back at the Chinese girl and saw, for the first time, how important he was to her. A part of her world, a thing she wanted to protect, a piece of an impossible puzzle about to fall eternally from the edge of a table. She wanted him to be happy and safe, if only because that was how he had fit in her mind for so long. And here he was, his single emerald not even focused on her while he tipped her little world upside-down.

"But I'm in love with Noah's Pleasure and I can't pretend that I'm not. There might be nothing I can do about it – he might still put a tease in my chest and watch me bleed out when it comes to it, but that doesn't change what's there. Yuu... Yuu-chan... God, I don't even know where to start." The shock in her eyes was enough to drive the redhead's face into his palms. "You don't just stop something like this. You can't. It's like a train on a track that's gone outta control, all powered by yearning and things you don't understand because you're not allowed to, and weighed down by shit that happened a lifetime ago that doesn't have a name but has a face and makes you see flowers. You don't throw things like that away. You don't pretend that it never happened because you're ordered to. It's just there, like a festering wound, making you sick and hurting like crazy, but you can't let it heal because it's a part of you and you want it there for reasons that are more messed up than the reason it started in the first place."

"Lavi—"

He gritted his teeth and lowered his hands, but didn't look up at her. Instead, he went on in a softer whisper, feeling the words escape him in a torrent that would leave him hollow. "It's not that love like the ocean that's deep and dark and mysterious. Yuu can't be like that. It's love like a waterfall trying to push you under so you can't pull yourself up to breathe when you need to, beating you down, smashing you up. Strong so you can't let it go. Strong so you can't control it. And it's addictive." When he did look up he found her looking at him with a blank expression. "What is a person with a heart supposed to do?"

She blinked at him and smiled like it hurt her. The lavender color of her eyes showed more brightly, while the black of her hair seemed to fade. She did not notice the change in the light. "A good person would tell you that you should follow your heart if you have one, Lavi. But I'm not a good person." Her smile wavered. "Would you really forget everything for a man who tried to kill all of us? For a man who wants to destroy the world?"

Lavi's eye widened but he didn't answer.

"Nothing should make you want to be with that man. Nothing. No amount of kindness that he showed you should make you think that he feels anything at all for you." Her words were so cold, so bitter, like a chill winter wind blowing across his face. It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Lenalee was understanding and gentle; her words felt nearly cruel. "He blinded you and nearly killed you right in front of me, Lavi. He tried to kill Allen. He tried to kill Kanda. He used me as a human shield against you. He destroyed Suman Dark. Those things... do they not mean anything? He has killed so many people, and yet you can't decide between him and Kanda?"

"It isn't like that."

"No. It is." Anger. That was the undertone in her voice. "You can't decide between Kanda and that murderer."

Murderer. He knew that word, but it didn't mean what it was supposed to.

Murderer.

"If that's what he is, what does that make me?"

"What?"

He felt suddenly cold on the inside, like he had stepped into a blizzard, or perhaps the blizzard had stepped into him. Lavi did not really know. He knew, however, that the feeling was dangerous and deadly. He could hurt someone. He could hurt Lenalee. The prospect was not frightening like it should have been. In his previous lives he had walked away from dying men without a backward glance; there would be little difference in doing it with his own hands if he wanted to. That feeling, that cool indifference, what he had done – surely they made him a killer at the least. What was the difference between firing the gun and leaving the bullet in the soldier it hit? He didn't see any. Those days that he had spent with Tyki, and the times he had quietly ignored the blood covered clothes and the secretive nighttime outings, was exactly the same as ripping out the hearts himself.

"How many people do you think I've let die because saving them would be interfering with a war I wasn't a part of, Lenalee? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands?" Lavi chuckled. "You think I give a damn that Tyki killed a handful of Finders I hardly knew and a bunch of Exorcists I had lunch with? I don't care. That's my job. Not caring. I'm responsible for more deaths than he is, anyway." He felt the cold anger twist in his gut like an icy claw wrapped around his insides in a painful, clamping fist. He drew on the discomfort to fuel him. "If you don't understand there's nothing I can do to make you."

"But how can you compare that?" Lenalee's voice raised to slightly quieter than a yell. "You did what you were taught to – you didn't do it because you enjoyed it! And what about us, Lavi? We're your family, aren't we?"

"Lenalee—"

"I'm the younger sister who's smarter than you and Allen is your younger brother who's not, and we're a family! How can you love someone – think about loving someone – who would try to take that away from you? Why would you—"

"Because I forgot about all of you! Because I was alone and he was there to care for me! And afterward, when I knew that he was out there killing people, that he had taken those memories away from me, I didn't forget what he made me feel!"

The Chinese girl drew into herself at his scream, then lunged forward in a movement that was terribly familiar and yet completely unpredictable. Lavi reacted on instinct the same way he would have if she had been an Akuma trying to hit him with a blade. He was behind her and blindsided in a matter of moments – and he had not taken into account that Lenalee would give up hitting him with her fist and instead swing her left right around to clock him in the side of the head with her heel. The train car span briefly before Lavi found himself looking blearily up at the ceiling, black splotches dancing in his vision like tiny bugs that scurried away before he could bring them completely into focus.

With a groan and three forced blinks, the redhead slowly brought his eye to Lenalee's face and studied the somewhat sorry quality to her expression. Perhaps, as always, she hadn't meant to kick him quiet that hard. Perhaps it was only an illusion caused by seeing her face upside-down.

She did not hesitate, and instead spoke softly to him, her voice nearly drowned by the rattling of the rails. "There are more important things than what we want in this world, Lavi. There are more important things than what we feel. There's good and evil and life in it. But I could be wrong. If he is that one thing that drives you, that one thing that makes you hold on, the thing that you cannot live without..." She shook her head. "You wouldn't be thinking so hard about this if he was. It wouldn't be a choice at all."

"Lenalee..." Lavi spoke softly also, though there was an edge in his voice that gave it silent thunder, carrying his confusion. "I don't know what I want because I don't understand. It makes sense to me that I shouldn't love 'im, but that doesn't change anything. It just makes it harder. If he wasn't an enemy..." He couldn't imagine it for a moment when he tried. "I don't know."

"But he is, Lavi." It was a statement that could not be argued. "And he always will be."

– – –

Tyki had been quiet through all of dinner, withdrawn so that Sheryl could almost taste the dark dancing in the air around his younger brother, could almost sense the emotion that brought it on. It was almost adorable. Instead, when Tyki pushed himself back from his plate after only a few bites of food, it was sad to watch. There were very few things that could upset Tyki, and even fewer that could upset him to the point of turning down a delicious meal composed of his favorite meat.

Sheryl took only a moment to reassure his wife that it had not been the conversation that drove Tyki away, and then followed the younger Noah out of the dining room and eventually into the garden, moving as quietly as possible as he went. Once outside, Sheryl noted that the winter air felt heavy with cool moisture; fog nearly blocked the stars from sight above them, obscuring the moon into a silvery soft eye surrounded by tufts of cotton. It closed them in like four white walls. It made Tyki seem terribly alone in his dark suit against the swirling white backdrop. The tendrils of Tyki's hair fell like waves of ebony lace down his back, glinted with diamond shards of moisture, and shifted like water when he turned his warm dark eyes up at the light. The dining room had been harsh lighting and family – here it was picturesque and dangerous.

It took perhaps ten heartbeats for Tyki to lower his face from the moon and turn his attention downward. It was an invitation, even if the younger Noah did not realize it.

With silent purpose, Sheryl did the only thing that he knew would not result in chasing Tyki even farther away than he already was, and moved forward to place his arms around his brother's waist. The stiffening of Tyki's spine was expected, as was the sudden movement of his head, but Sheryl did not expect to feel fingers touch the back of his right hand in a tender, unfamiliar caress. It made his breath catch. It made him forget, for a moment, why he had touched Tyki in the first place.

"The wine with dinner," Tyki said in a soft, distant voice that felt raw and crackly, like dry leaves brushing the cobblestone walk, "was dry like the one I served with salad once, when he was with me. He was too drunk. And he told me that he was wrong." He chuckled. "I'll never forget how he looked while he slept that night. Even if he never trusts me that explicitly again... I will always remember what it was like to sleep so I did not want to wake up if it meant he would be gone in the morning."

Sheryl tightened his arms marginally, driving his face into his brother's hair. It smelled like cigarettes. This was not the moment to bring up that the boy was no more a lost lover than he was a lost plaything – a creature to be hunted and, if Tyki wished it, to be broken. All intelligent animals could be tamed, and Bookmen were no exception. Now was the time to be a solid, stable force, and to weave himself into Tyki's mind with the ideas of warmth and understanding. "There are three Akuma groups in my country investigating Innocence. One of them suffered losses yesterday."

"Sheryl—"

"If you want, I will give you the location. He may not be there, but I love you too much to stop you from wandering into a trap baited by the one you love."

For a long moment, Tyki remained perfectly silent. "Why would you do that? Doesn't that go against what you are, bother?"

It did. Sheryl did not give away the things he wanted – was not supposed to. He was supposed to have the perfect life, the perfect family, the perfect home, the perfect lover. He was supposed to have it all.

He wanted – deserved – to have it all.

Softly, unsure if it was half a lie, Sheryl tilted his face forward enough to speak into Tyki's delicately pointed ear. "You are not the only one who is not always dark."

– – –

More to come! Forgive me for the naked not-sex. My bad. Also, I promise that Kanda will not be quite so... how he is later.