Sorry it took longer than usual but seriously, thanks for the reviews. To Haroou, sorry! I'll include the idea next time. D:

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THANK YOU.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, nor will I anytime soon.

Suspicion is a heavy armour and with its weight it impedes more than it protects. - Robert Burns (1759-1796, Scottish Poet)

After two attempts of murder, one stupid attempt of who can jump the farthest on the top of a train car, Arthur blamed the coffee for that one, and several attempts of trying to steal Kanda's sword, a la Lavi and Alfred, the now bedraggled group dragged themselves up the stairs to Alfred's house.

The boy was even too tired to talk, opening the door with a thud. "We'll rest here," he mumbled through the carpet as Kanda stepped over him rudely. Lenalee and Allen both helped him up with a gentle shove as the boy groaned. "Leave me alone!" he complained, waving his arms. "I'll just sleep here!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, kicking the boy in the leg lightly. "Get up you idiot," he growled as Alfred mumbled a curse word under his breath, standing to his feet.

"Go pick any room you want," he called as the exorcists nodded, picking up their luggage and walking through the gigantic house. "I have plenty of room."

Arthur decided not to point out the cracked wall in front of them.

As the exorcists wandered off, both Alfred and Arthur were left sitting in the living room as Alfred sighed. "Is it alright now?" he asked as Arthur rolled his eyes again.

"No, not until we're left completely alone," he replied as Alfred sighed, a hint of seriousness crossing his gaze.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said slowly, his eyes narrowed as Arthur noticed his former charge's change in emotion. Alfred seemed hesitant to speak, his eyes darting across the room before shaking his head, mumbling something about how a hero should be stronger than what he was doing.

Arthur left the boy alone to his thoughts, glancing around the home.

Fifteen years since the boy's civil war…

Musing on this, he noticed a wall, crumbled near the back of the kitchen, but was slowly going up again, wood patched in the middle of it.

He remembered when his house was all but crushed from the wars from his long past and almost sighed. Here it was again, more proof that he was an old man.

Alfred stood up hurriedly, walking over to the kitchen. "I'll get us something to drink!" he called, obviously trying to lengthen the time in which he had to spill it all to him. Arthur didn't mind, it gave him more of a chance to see how much the war had damaged him…

Why was he so concerned? He of all people shouldn't be concerned, he had offered to help Alfred's counterpart during that time.

"You know Alice?" Alfred called from the kitchen as Arthur tore himself away from his remotely depressing thoughts.

"What about her?" he replied before hearing a crash and a clatter of utensils and a few curse words as Alfred burst out, serving Arthur a drink with a fragment of ceramic stuck in his hair.

"I'm fine!" he called with a grin. Arthur rolled his eyes, not even bothering to move to pluck out the piece out of his hair and taking a sip of the brew. Ready to lecture the boy on the etiquette of tea, he then tasted something he didn't expect.

Coffee?!

He choked on his drink, and then started to cough, pounding his chest while glaring at Alfred who was cracking up. "Welcome to America Arthur," he said with a grin, the true meaning hitting the British man hard.

Bloody git! Giving me coffee instead of tea! He knows I don't drink coffee! he thought furiously, eyes narrowed at the still chuckling American.

Smirking at Arthur, he continued his story. "Anyway, Alice went home to South Carolina."

The bright eyed southern belle, almost a carbon copy of Alfred…

Arthur shook his head.

Key word there was almost.

Ahh, that was why he brought up Alice, to avoid questions of, "Wasn't she killed by you?" Arthur mused with a hidden smile.

"Alfred, you're avoiding the topic," he chided as the American flinched, hand tensing around the cup. "Get to the point before I beat it out of you."

"Some parent you'll be," he shot back before blinking then staring at the floor, obviously realizing the extent of his words. After an awkward silence, Alfred continued, refusing to meet Arthur's gaze. "Well, for one, Renee isn't American so I can't tell what she's thinking."

"…That's what you wanted to tell me? Besides, you shouldn't abuse that part of you Alfred."

"It's not like you haven't Arthur," he retorted, frowning at the British man. "And besides, that's only one part I wanted to tell you. There are other things I wanted to tell you!"

"I can't help it," Arthur hissed under his breath so that he couldn't be heard by the exorcists, setting down the cup harder than he meant, "If the lad's British and he's sitting right ACROSS from me." The cup made a dull thud as he glared at him.

The door shutting caught both off guard as Arthur's eyebrow rose, realizing it was to one of the exorcist's room. Alfred ignored it, starting to continue his story. "Anyway, after…" he clenched his fists. There was no way he would use that word, "you know, Alice came over to talk. The topic went to the Black Order, I don't know, don't ask how, and Alice told me something strange."

"Stranger than demons wearing human skin?" Arthur replied with a small smile as Alfred snorted at the dry humor.

"No, she told me during…that, something happened to one person down in New Orleans."

"Wouldn't something be happening to many people during that time?" Arthur asked, treading lightly on the word civil war.

"She said it was more specific!" Alfred retorted, taking a huge sip of coffee. "It wasn't like anything she felt during that!" The boy was getting more and more agitated as he explained, leaving Arthur to wonder if he should let Alfred continue.

"Alfred, calm down," he said as gently as he could as Alfred drew in a huge breath. He began again, slowly, voice quiet.

"Anyway, she said it was…a voice that invaded her head, one that made her kill, rage against everything and when she stopped, she had almost killed me in the process. She didn't regret it then, but…" Alfred buried his face in his hands now shaking no matter how much he tried to clench them tightly. "She said she couldn't stop herself, that…a Noah was born in New Orleans."

Well, Arthur thought, surprise and shock crossing his features. This complicates things.

Inside Lavi's room, the five were spread out, Allen sat on a chair near the door, the chair flipped around to provide an armrest for his arms, Lavi flopped on a bed, Lenalee sitting on the bed edge and Kanda on the floor, mediating.

"So we're resting here huh?" Lavi asked as Allen nodded, leaning against the back of the chair. "It's a nice place," The Bookman Junior continued as Kanda snorted.

"If that's the reason why we're gathered in here, I'm going back to my room." As he said this, he stood up, making his way to open the door.

"Wait, Yu." Kanda glared at Lavi, reaching for his sword before Allen sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Kanda, sit down please," he said, glaring at the Japanese boy who rolled his eyes at him, but complied, sitting down on the floor again.

Lavi flipped open his little book again, thumbing through before jabbing a thumb towards the living room. "I've seen that guy, Alfred, in old books as well. They document him as Alfred F. Jones. I don't think that is just a coincidence."

"Well," Lenalee pointed out slowly, her eyes closed in thought. "There was a civil war here recently. Maybe they were documenting that."

He shook his head, holding up the book for the other three to see. Allen squinted at the scrawls that dated…

His eyes widened before looking at Lavi with surprise. "July Fourth, 1776…?"

Lavi nodded, his eyes narrowed. "The date that America was formerly declared their own country."

Kanda was intrigued, although he didn't show it. "That would make it…" he paused, running the math through his head. "Almost a hundred and four years." His eyebrows rose at the number. "What the hell?"

Allen clapped almost mockingly when he confirmed the number himself. "Looks like BaKanda isn't just all brawn."

Kanda, being Kanda, retorted the way only he would. "Go fuck yourself Moyashi," he snapped angrily, flipping him the bird while he was at it.

"My name is ALLEN! I take it back, you ARE all brawn!"

"In ANY case," Lavi quickly cut in, before the two actually exchanged blows again. "Yu's right. If this guy had been here for over a hundred and four years, what exactly does that make him?"

"An immortal guy who uses innocence to keep living," Allen deadpanned as Lenalee giggled at his tone.

"That wouldn't be the first," she said with a smile as Kanda winced, holding his shoulder. Victorio came to mind as the swordsman shook his head.

"If it's like that, then shouldn't we take the innocence?" he asked as the others fell silent.

"Mr. Kirkland requested for our help…I don't think it would be right to betray him like that," Lenalee said with a worried look on her face, the smile gone.

"Besides, I heard about the Victorio case," Lavi said, sitting up straight on the bed from his slouching position. "That guy was fighting Akuma but going berserk with it at the same time. This isn't that exact case."

"Then what, we wait for this mission to be over then take it from them both," Kanda confirmed as the others nodded, Allen and Lenalee both a bit hesitant.

"We should listen to them first," Lenalee said with a nod from Allen. "Before we do anything drastic."

"That we will Lenalee," Lavi replied with a grin. "And until then, I'm crashing. Night!"

He fell backwards, on his back and promptly fell asleep as Allen and Lenalee laughed quietly and Kanda rolled his eyes again, muttering about stupid rabbits.

Walking over to the door, he opened it and glanced towards the living room. Arthur and Alfred were still talking, quietly, while nodding to him. He scowled, opening the door. "Why the hell do I do this?" he muttered as he stepped through towards his bed. He would take a short rest before getting up to train.

The Japanese boy froze as he entered his room, a spiking pain running up his leg and torso. "What the-!" he managed to bite out before falling forward in a thud, twitching, pain wrapped around himself.

As he lost consciousness, he saw flashes of his homeland, although tampered by Marie's own memories, and a man with a Katana, bleeding from the same area he was hurting at.

"…What…the…f…"

And all was black.

Pleasedon'tkillme. XD