Chapter 5-Bittersweet

February 16, 2014-Hospital in London

His eyes drooped and fell closed, but he had to stay awake so that he wouldn't fall over. His arm around Lenalee's back was the only thing keeping him anything close to conscious, and he couldn't afford to fall asleep just yet. Coffee and fear mingled with hope had been barely enough to sustain him during Lavi's epically long surgery, but now, without any outward stimulation except the Chinese woman's shaking shoulders and tear-drenched cheeks, it was nearly impossible.

When was the last time Allen had slept? Had it been the night of the thirteenth? It felt like so very long ago, like a different era. It hadn't been days that had passed, had it? It had to be weeks, months, maybe years, millennia. Because he was so tired and just couldn't concentrate. And damn, his eyes were falling again, holding them open was like fighting against the weight of time itself, so heavy, so heavy...

His chin fell to his chest, pulling him with a gasp from his almost-sleep. Lenalee still needed him.

He may never wake up.

Allen hated to admit it, but he didn't want Kanda to die, didn't want him to remain comatose for the remainder of his years. It wouldn't fare well for Lavi, but more importantly, it would hurt Lenalee. And if there was one thing he hated, it was hurting the Chinese woman. His woman, he wanted to say, but no, now was not the time to confront that topic yet. She was still emotionally overwrought and as tired as him. They both needed sleep, but since she had been barred from Lavi's room-he was in the ICU, recovering from his surgery, and would be moved to the low immune system ward in a day or two. They wouldn't be allowed to see him until his body could fight all the toxins they carried.

So, naturally, Lenalee had migrated to Kanda's room, and the first thing she'd done was attach herself to his hand and begin to cry, which was such a heart-wrenching sight that Allen wanted to kill the man. But he didn't even have the heart for such thoughts because his eyes, damn them, were drooping again!

And besides, Kanda's hair was really funny, with all but a few locks cut down, some bits shaven completely-though Allen couldn't see it from this angle-in the back. The doctors had needed to examine his head, stop the bleeding. Allen almost had to chuckle at how angry the Japanese man would be when he woke up.

When. Because he was going to wake up.

Because he was Kanda, and the man was a stubborn son of a bitch who would rest at nothing to get the last word against the British boy.

"He'll wake up, Lenalee," Allen said, fatigue showing in his voice.

"How do you know?" She asked tearfully. Allen shook his head-not disagreeing with her, he just wanted to clear his mind a bit, maybe get rid of the cobwebs of exhaustion-and leaned on Lenalee's shoulder. He had lost the battle against his eyes, and maybe if he could just...

NO!

He had to stay awake!

"He's Kanda," Allen said, so tired, so tired... That was all that was needed for explanation, just lay your head down and close your eyes...

Lenalee sniffed heartily. The white-haired boy figured that was all he was going to get in way of agreement at the moment.

"We should get some rest. It's three in the morning, Lenalee. We can start again when we wake up."

Thankfully, the Chinese woman nodded, and with an almost regretful squeeze of Kanda's hand, whispered, "we'll be back soon, Yuu-kun."

Sleep.


Amanda stood as the doctor dressed her wounds. After a few tests, he'd concluded that there was no internal damage, despite the blood she'd coughed up during the battle. It had taken him quite some time to disinfect her still weeping burns and even longer to clean out all her cuts and scrapes. She'd hurt worse before, but never was it so all-encompassing. Her face throbbed the worse, bled in places where the burn was most livid. Darcy had not quite managed to stop the Akuma's acid from hitter her during the battle. Most of it had hit her face, but she was now aware that it had hit many other places as well. In addition to the scar she would inevitably have on her face, she would also bear a few on her chest, neck, shoulders, and hands. She still could not see out of her right eye.

"Alright, I think we're all done here," her doctor said. He was young and kind of hot, with brown eyes and hair the color of dark roast coffee, which she thought would probably be best for her now-how long had she been awake?

Amanda stared down at herself. Almost entirely covered in a thin layer of bandages. There was a patch over her right eye to keep out the germs, and they promised her a specialist as soon as they could get one in. There was a long slice along that side of her face as well, though a few stitches had handled that. All that was left was the "eye guy," as her doctor had put it.

"Thanks, doc," she said.

"You're done?" Asked Darcy. He was on the other side of the curtain, being treated for much more severe burns.

"Yeah," Amanda said as the doctor took his leave. "How are you holding up?"

"Alright, though I wish the doc would stop touching me there." He said the last bit with gritted teeth. Amanda laughed.

"Poor baby. When you're all done, how about I go grab us both some coffee?"

"Nah, I wanna sleep."

"Can you?" It was a valid point. Even with all the pain medication they were both being issued, there was still quite a lot of pain and soreness not being completely covered. Sleep would come with time, but for now, Amanda just wanted a nice twelve-ounce, non-biodegradable Styrofoam cup of coffee to warm her uninjured left hand. It didn't even need to be caffeinated-just something warm to drink, something familiar and comforting. It reminded her of those early mornings before missions with her and Artemis, how they'd run into the kitchen and go directly to the tubs of coffee. Double-shot hazelnut latte for Artemis, dark roast as black as possible for Amanda. It was how her parents had it, and it was the only way Amanda could stand the taste. Anything else was too sweet. Surprising, considering gum drops were some of her favorite candies.

"You're right. Fine." The man sighed and then made a pained squeak. "Don't poke that!"

It took some time for Darcy's doctor to finish up with him, seeing as his burns were much more extensive. Nearly his entire chest was second degree or worse, though his back had been mercifully spared. Stupid hero action. Amanda would have taken the injury all for her own. But she wouldn't say she wasn't flattered. She smiled a little. When at last they were finished, she shuffled from the room-walking quickly hurt, especially as she'd twisted her ankle somewhere along the line. It was not hard to find the coffee machine, and she quickly slipped some money (found at the bottom of her shoe) into it.

"Hey, Amanda," Lenalee said, walking up. Her eyes were droopy and bloodshot, as if someone had slipped a little extra something into her drink.

"Hey. You look terrible."

The Chinese girl sniffed, one of those sniffs of the perpetually ill, with the intense movement of snot.

"It's okay, though. Look-just a flesh wound." She offered her bandaged hand as proof. Lenalee giggled, though Amanda was pretty sure she didn't get the reference. "And Darce isn't too bad off, and well, Tama-chan'll fix right up. Most of us survived, yeah?"

Lenalee looked away.

"Want a coffee?"

"That'd be nice."

"Here, take mine."

Fishing more money out of her shoe, Amanda fed it to the machine and turned to face Lenalee. "How is Yuu-san?"

"Still unconscious."

"Well, don't worry about him. Once Lavi's up and shakin', he'll bop 'im real good and tell him to get his lazy ass awake and out of bed."

Lenalee smiled. "Yeah..."

"Go take that to Allen. He can stay awake-you go rest."

"Only if you do."

"How bad are the bags under my eyes?"

"Terrible."

"You should talk." Amanda giggled, brought her hand to Lenalee's shoulder. "The worst is over now, I think. We'll all pull through. And we'll replace those who didn't with babies, yeah?"

Lenalee laughed but turned away. The machine stopped rumbling as it finished Amanda's coffee, and the American girl watched only a brief moment as her friend retreated down the hallway. Amanda followed suit, ducking into Darcy's room. He was sitting on the flimsy bed, which resembled a house of cards in regards to stability. A bit of the foam mattress was poking out from a hole in the thin sheets. An older doctor was tending to him, poking Darcy's back with a pair of tweezers. Every so often, he brought the instrument to drop something into the gauze in his other hand.

"I'm very sorry about Dr. Eleison. She's just an intern, so it is not surprising she missed something. She just began this rotation a few days ago. Thank you for letting us know," the doctor said. He smiled as he spoke, but his squinting eyes never left Darcy's back.

"Are you okay, Mr. Darcy?" Amanda asked, coming over.

"Just fine," he replied.

"Uh-huh..." Oh, sarcasm. A time-honored friend.

Amanda sipped her coffee. Each time debris was removed from Darcy's back, it clinked into the pile. The doctor hummed when he concentrated hard, and Darcy gasped quite often. She offered him a sip of coffee, but he grimaced because it was going cold. She finished it anyway.

A nurse hovered at the door. "We need you in 246. That other Exorcist guy just came to."

"I'll be back when I can. If not, I'll have someone else come in and finish up. Try not to move too much." The doctor put the tweezers and the gauze on the metal stand beside him, pushing the rolling stool back as he did. When he stood, he grunted in a way that reminded Amanda of her grandfather after one of his long naps in his favorite chair.

The door closed behind them, leaving them alone for the first time since their romp before the fourteenth. At first all was quiet, the room stifling as a sauna in mid-August.

"Hey, Amanda?" Darcy said finally.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think your mom would approve of me?"

For a moment, Amanda floundered. With Darcy, you never quite knew what to expect in regards to strange queries, but this one was the winner of the random ribbon that rippled in the wind above the random flag, which was at the top of the World Trade Center-sized random skyscraper.

"No, she wouldn't."

"Because I'm so much-"

"Irish. You're Catholic. She's Presbyterian. She married an Anglican."

Darcy sighed.

"Religious issues aside, would she approve of me?"

"No," Amanda said.

"And why not?"

"Darcy, we've talked about this ad nauseam, okay? Listen, I know what I'm doing-hell, I've been age of consent this entire time!"

"It's statutory rape!"

"Then we won't have sex! Hell, we could say to my parents that we're waiting until I'm eighteen-it's only a year off, and yeah, sex and kissing is great, but I'd rather be chaste than not anything at all."

"Listen, I'm too old, you're too young. There's no in between, not that your parents will see, not that the law will see."

"The Coalition said they were giving us diplomatic immunity."

"Not against the opinions of society. And that immunity can be revoked."

"Darcy, please."

"Don't plead. It's pathetic."

"Yeah, well, listen to you." Tears started falling down her face. Darcy lifted a hand, probably to wipe them away, but he caught himself. He shook his head, flinched when the movement caused something in his back to tug at the already torn and burned skin.

"I've given this a lot of thought. I don't want to be the kind of guy who limits you. What we had was good while we were in the Order, but you said you want to finish High School, go to college. I'd like to get some education too, honestly, but that sounds like a lot of long distance and a lot of social pressure. For us both, but mostly for you. We're not practical in the real world. The age difference is huge at this point, and if you're anchored down by me, you won't reach your potential."

"I'll reach my potential just fine." She wasn't looking at him, didn't want to look at him.

"And what if you find a boy your age who you like? Hm?"

"Then I'll break up with you and date him. Not that that would happen-"

"I'm not gonna do a badly-written romance novel and tell you I don't love you and you should fuck off because of that. You know I love you. But there's gonna be a lot of changes once we're out of the hospital. We'll be apart-"

"There's always the Ark," Amanda muttered. Darcy ignored her and plowed on.

"-and we'll both be making new friends and learning new things. We're going to change, regardless, and I don't much fancy having your entire family hate me. Call me a coward-I know you're thinking it-but I don't want to see this relationship fall apart. And believe me, Amanda, it will."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't, but I think it will. You forget, I am older than you. By quite a bit. I'm still young too, but I've got more life experience than you. You know the world better than any other sixteen-year-old I know, but I know it better than you, and I saw this happen to my aunt and uncle. Being apart is harder than you would think. Even with the Ark. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." His voice caught on the last word. Amanda looked back at him and realized he was crying too.

"You're a bastard, Darcy," Amanda said.

"I know," he whispered. Amanda turned on her heel because she wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling, but she was positive that her world was caving in on her. She needed Artemis.

The tears came harder because she knew that was no longer a possibility. "Goddammit!" She growled, and her burnt wrist wailed out and struck the wall. The explosion of pain was nothing like the implosion in her chest, where all the good feelings passed easily through the event horizon that was her heart. She was left with only blackness, only bitterness and sadness. Lenalee had her own issues to work through, and while she loved Road, Amanda didn't think she could pour her heart out to someone she had until very recently hated with every ounce of emotion she could spare. And Emiko was still here, waiting for status reports on all his friends, clutching something so tightly in his hand it was making his knuckles go white.

She decided to go cry on Lavi. He was out, so she could let herself go. He'd be the most sympathetic ear she would get for quite some time.

February 17, 2014-Hospital in London

They'd found sleeping quarters in a small closet on a tiny hospital bed, but they'd made the best of it, and despite a few kinks in his neck, Allen felt somewhat rested when the door was flung open by a panicked-looking intern.

"Have you seen Dr. Valkov?" She asked hurriedly, her voice high with fear and urgency. Allen shook his head sleepily but got up. The girl scampered off, not bothering to close the door behind her.

"Let's get breakfast, Lenalee." He suggested, even though he wasn't hungry he knew she was.

They left the small room and began to make their way down to the cafeteria. Before they made it though, they were passed by Cyrah.

"They are going to take Tuan off of life-support. Emiko is already there." She didn't wait to see if they were following, merely striding off.

Lenalee looked at Allen and they both knew they were going. Chu-chan had become a good friend from the very first time they had met.

Tuan's room was at the far corner of the hospital. It seemed darker than any room had a right to, with only a single light above the bed. Emiko was seated next to the man, gazing almost unseeingly as her best friend.

It struck Allen that something seemed to have changed about the Japanese woman. She seemed as if there was a large weight resting on her too-broad shoulders.

"Emiko, are we ready?" Cyrah asked softly, almost tenderly, if such a thing was possible.

"Don't call me that, Cyrah. I'm not that anymore," Emiko said lowly, in an almost manly voice.

Cryah's face flickered briefly to shock but she soon composed herself and nodded, "Sasaki, then."

They all waited in the small room for a doctor to arrive. Another moment later, a priest arrived to say his last rites, though everyone knew, whether they believed in such a thing or not, that the man was destined for Heaven, was already in Heaven. When the doctor finally saw fit to walk in, the room had settled into an all too familiar sobriety. The process was simple, a tiny switch being depressed and the equipment stopped its churning, the monitor blinked and the beeps became erratic and then ceased altogether.

No one cried for him. There was no need, the man had been dead the moment Vikram had taken the man's soul with him. No one regretted this moment.

Emiko... or Sasaki, whoever the Japanese Exorcist was now, was the first to leave. Patting Tuan's shoulder, standing up, and walking from the room. Somewhere in Allen's tired, beaten mind, he wondered if the deaths of her two closest friends was the thing that had made Sasaki change.

Allen himself was surprised the rumors about Emiko being a guy were true. But Lenalee's voice in his head confirming what he had just concluded was more than enough evidence in his book.

Cyrah walked over to Chu-chan's body, standing tall and proud as always. She leaned over and kissed the man's forehead, ruffling the short hair around his hairline, almost motherly in the process. She left without a word, the same as Sasaki had.

Lenalee seemed to be frozen in place, fixed in her mind by her grief.

"Hey, Lenalee, let's go visit Amanda. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you." Allen suggested hoping to break the dark-haired woman's spell.

It did, and they walked silently from the room, Allen sparing only a final glance at his friend, and shifted planes into the Ark, headed towards Amanda's room. The American girl was crying. After a tearful explanation, Allen had a feeling that the tears would not stop for a long time, though perhaps she would be able to recover. The white-haired man fervently hoped so.

Lolek detested slings. They made things... inefficient. And if you swung the sling in any direction at all, your arm would immediately remind you that yes, it was broken. However, he put his hatred aside as he came to a stop outside the exam room's door. He took a deep breath, tried to push the pain to the back of his mind. He affixed a smile on his face.

"Alright, Lolek, let's do this," he said to himself. Then he opened the door and walked in. Miranda was at the far end of the room. The curtain-white with a descending pattern of bleached-off bloodstains-could do little to hide her voluminous hair. It was untamed and greasy, but it poked out from the gap between the curtain pole and the wall.

"Miranda," he said, walking up to her. She smiled at him as he pulled the curtain back. Her face was far short of radiant, covered in bruises and dirt. Small cuts peppered her skin with crimson accents. Fresh white bandages covered her right arm, bulky around her wrist where her Innocence once rested.

"You're alright," she said. Still she smiled. There was no doctor in the room, no nurse checking vitals or assessing her well-being.

"You look better than me."

"I suppose you are right." She shifted so that she was sitting more upright. The pillow bunched up at the small of her back. Lolek could almost hear its high-pitched calls for help. "Though it's your doing of course."

"Yes, well, I protect my women," he said. Trying to control the fall of his sling (which failed), Lolek leaned down to give her a hug. Her arms tightened like vices around his back. Lolek's throat closed up, and he made an unintentional noise of discontent.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry!" Miranda said. Her voice had risen at least an octave, and her hands were at her sides before Lolek could even register the difference.

"It's-it's okay," he said, raising a hand to calm her brigade of apologies. "Just... I've got quite a few bruises, especially along my back and chest. The Akuma were unrelenting."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you alright?"

"Yes, just fine. The doctors put some nasty goop on me, and I'll be back in here a few days from now to get my cast on. But, be gentle, okay?"

"Of course. I am so-"

"If you say it, I'll call the nurse and have her take out your spleen."

Miranda paled. "They do that?"

Lolek nodded in a way he hoped was solemn. "Yes."

"That's terrible!" She clamped her mouth shut with her left hand. "Lolek?" She asked after a moment.

"Yes?"

"What is a spleen?"

Lolek was so shocked that he laughed. His lips tugged up into a smile. Without regard for pain, he took her in his arms (a difficult task, what with getting around the sling and all) and pulled her up so that her head could rest on his shoulder. She scrambled for a moment and ended up on her knees. "It's nothing, dear, just an organ by your stomach. It's what recycles your blood cells."

"Oh. Sorry for asking."

He patted her rather harshly on the top of the head. "No apologizing, what have I said?"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. He laughed in her ear, a quiet chuckle that was meant only for her, and kissed her neck before leaning back a little to see her better. She looked so tired. Highly exaggerated bags hung under her eyes, worse than any Lolek had seen on his comrades. Ever. It was probably the effect of keeping the Time Bubble up for so long.

A nurse entered the room. His eyes were bright and free of laugh lines. He had a large mouth that seemed to be stuck in smile mode. He couldn't have been out of his twenties yet.

"The results of your tests are all in. Nothing is wrong with you, other than some mild anemia and hypoglycemia. I'd suggest a meal and then some sleep. Also, Miss Lotto, we have some other news for you. It's a little serious, so if your friend would please step out for a moment?"

Lolek made to leave, a little prickle of worry sweat teeming at his brow.

"No, he'll stay. What's wrong?" She tightened her arms around his waist. Lolek tried not to hiss. He had many bruises there thanks to those damned suckers on that one tentacled Akuma.

"Are you sure, Miss? This is very serious, and you may not want him to hear it from me."

What, does she have cancer? Lolek thought, scowling inside.

"It's fine. Go ahead." She kissed Lolek's cheek.

"Alright, ma'am. Well, because of your claims regarding going to the x-ray lab, we did the test you asked for, and it's positive. Congratulations. You're pregnant."

"What?" Lolek said. His left arm flailed and throbbed as he pulled back to hold Miranda at arms' length. "Ow!"

"Don't hurt yourself!" Miranda exclaimed. "And Charlie told me. I just wanted to make sure."

"But what about... the... the..."

"It's fine, Lolek," Miranda said, and pulled away so that he could right himself. His arm was throbbing and his brain had gone entirely blank. "I was the one who disposed of it. It had a leak, but I figured it wasn't a big deal."

"Not a... not a big deal?"

"You sound... disappointed."

"No! No! I'm not!" He reached out with his right hand and caressed her face. "No, I'm not. I'm just very, very shocked. Because most women are on birth control. It didn't even occur to me that you might... but it's alright! I'd love to be pregnant with-I mean, have a baby with you." His face was flushed, so he looked away. Everything was coming out all wrong. He was confused.

Miranda didn't say anything, just smiled. After a moment or two, she sat back down on the gurney and began talking to the nurse. Lolek couldn't concentrate on the conversation, though. The only thing he could think was "baby." The word repeated back and forth across his head, a parody of Echo's debacle one million times over.

When the nurse left, he turned back to Miranda, and quite without thought, he asked, "Miranda, will you marry me?"

"Eh?" She asked, looking at him with eyes wide as dinner plates and mouth slightly agape.

"Marry me, please?" He asked again, this time kneeling down so that he was the one looking up.

"Wirk-I-I mean really? You want to marry me?" Her voice was so disbelieving that it almost hurt.

"Of course! I love you, and I want to show you that I'm not going to leave." He took one of her hands in his and squeezed gently.

The dark-haired woman looked away for a moment, some unknown emotion flashing briefly in her eyes, but Lolek had seen that expression before.

"So, you actually want to, and this isn't just because I'm pregnant?" Her eyes were watering, so his hypothesis had been correct.

"I'm not just doing this because of the baby. This wasn't a mistake of yours. No one's to blame. Now don't cry, you. You should be happy. Shh, don't cry," he whispered to her as he wiped a tear off her cheek.

"You're an idiot." She exclaimed. He was so shocked that he nearly lost his balance. "I'm going to cause you nothing but trouble. And think, there's going to be another one with my blood. It's going to be just as clumsy!"

Chuckling a little, Lolek simply ruffled her hair. "Yes, but it will have mine as well, so it should balance out and once it does, it'll only have the good attributes. So cheer up, don't think you'll be able to get rid of me that easy."

Miranda nodded, but he could tell she still needed more convincing.

"Besides, I've already got it all planned out. A nice house outside of Konstanz, near the lake. Just the three of us. Or maybe four, if you don't mind another little critter. Eventually. Not now. And besides, it isn't like I wasn't thinking about asking you. I was going to, but after we were both out of the hospital and I had you alone. Look at me, please? What do you say?" He was getting kind of nervous now. She still wasn't looking at him completely.

But then she smiled.

"You're right, I'm just being my same old gloomy self again. But you're sure you won't get fed up of always having to catch me when I trip?" He lifted up the hand that he was still holding and brought it to his lips.

"Of course not, it makes life exciting. I'll do it every day for the rest of my life if I get the chance. I love you, and I'll be there to make sure that you don't fall anymore. That's my job, after all."

Her smile widened and she finally looked at him. She didn't say anything for a second, merely stared at him. He must have looked ridiculous with his face bright red, it felt like the back of his neck was on fire. But it had needed to be said. He would look after her for as long as he could, no matter what.

The force of her arms going around his neck nearly knocked him on his butt, but he managed to rebalance in time to keep them both off the floor. He felt warm tears on his shoulder.

"I love you too, Lolek. I will marry you, and I'll go with you to that house in Konstanz and we'll raise our children there, and I won't break any more plates or glasses or windows because you'll make sure I'm not an idiot and try and carry too much at one time or take the stairs too fast and trip over myself. I'll be useful and we'll be happy!" She sobbed into him for a little while before regaining her composure.

"I'm sorry." She sniffed as she pulled away.

"Oi, what did I say about saying that?" He mockingly threatened.

"I loves you, too, Lolek." Miranda giggled, squeezing his hand a little. He winced because he had a large bruise on his palm. She apologized.

"I will never break you of that habit, will I?" He asked.

"I'm sorry," she said, and they laughed together.

February 18, 2014-London, England-The Plaza beneath the Millennium Wheel

The small crowd that had gathered at the base of the London Eye was somber, the chipped stone under their feet a solemn reminder of exactly what had happened only a few days ago. It just didn't seem real to the five Exorcists that stood upon the small, quickly put together stage that was the center of attention. The President of the United States and even Her Majesty the Queen of England were there, sitting secure among their men in black. They were the only leaders that could make the hasty ceremony. The reporters' quiet roar in the background were somehow befitting of the once battlefield. It didn't seem right, the fact that only five of them were able to come to this memorial dedication.

They were here to remember the innumerable lives lost in the past year, as well as all those who gave their lives throughout the centuries. Of course, there would never be enough time to read off all the names. It would take years, decades even, but even so, the temporary monument that had been erected was only the beginning of that mission. All those soldiers and civilians who had died those four days ago and those whose sorrow had brought them their deaths at the hands of the Earl would most likely never be counted. On that one day alone, the numbers had been mind-boggling. Allen still couldn't wrap his mind around such an unbelievable number. When he'd first heard it spoken, he had wondered if there were that many people in the world.

Her Majesty spoke in a soft, unwavering alto, and only silence accompanied her words. No cars, no airplanes, not even birds saw fit to break the hallowed quiet. It was as if the whole world understood what had happened and how close they had come to oblivion, how close apocalypse had been.

The marble marker was small with an electronic screen inside, which contained the names of every soldier, sailor, marine, airman, doctor, nurse, government official, and as many documented losses of life in the Order's records as could be found, including Finders, Science Department Personnel, and, of course, Exorcists. The list would be growing for a long time to come.

Someone gestured for him to come forward and speak, him being the "Destroyer of Time" and all that. But as he looked out at the group of fifty or sixty people, he found that his voice just would not release itself from his throat. It didn't seem right. There were still people in the hospital, people that needed them, that would recover and deserved to be here as well. He didn't deserve to be making any speeches. There were economies to run, countries to organize, refugees to indoctrinate, countries to scour for survivors. This was no time to mourn.

He looked over to Lenalee, sitting serenely only a few meters away, and his voice returned.

He never had been good at public speaking.

"One billion, four hundred and twenty seven million, three hundred and twenty three thousand, one hundred and one. Such an astronomical number. Think about this number for a second, just think. Don't just imagine the number, imagine the people that make up that number. One sixth of the population-gone in the blink of an eye. Gone in fewer than twelve hours. Vanished while most of you were asleep in your beds, unaware of the danger you were in. Loved ones exterminated before you could even say goodbye. Friends, lovers, family, turned to dust right before your eyes, all because of a single act of violence, hatred, and intolerance perpetrated centuries ago. A pointless war, a pointless death, and it bred the sorrow you feel deep in your heart."

Allen turned to his comrades sitting alongside him. Cyrah, Lolek, Miranda, and Lenalee. He counted the empty seats beside them. One for Lavi, Kanda, Tuan, Tamas, Amanda, Darcy, Emik-Sasaki, Michel, Hok'ee, Maya, Rodrigo, Krista, Bak, Justin, Elliot, Vikram, Choon-yei, and of course, one for Artemis. He pushed back the tears he felt pooling in his eye. This was not the time. They did not deserve the tears, they deserved the smiles and the happiness that they fought so hard to maintain. So he hastily pulled a sleeve across his face and stared out at his audience.

"Do not mourn them. Smile, laugh, love, live for your loved ones. Make their sacrifices meaningful. Remember them, but do not grieve, because sorrow lives in all of us, and you can never get them back, no matter how much you wish for it to be so. They are free, their souls released and at peace; that is the happiest result. They are looking down on us now-I just know it-and they are rejoicing. Smiling upon the ruins we have made of this world and willing us to live on, to do more with the time we are given and waiting for us to join them in the land that is eternally light. So do not mourn them, celebrate their lives and remember exactly what they died for, what they achieved."

It was with those words that he left the podium and the stage, Lenalee following close behind him. The sounds of boots behind them were the indication that his friends agreed, and the light applause that drifted past him left the white-haired man with a feeling of relief, because the sounds of sadness were nowhere to be found in the air.

February 24, 2014-The Ark

The Imperial March was done no justice by her phone's puny speakers, but at the very least, it alerted Amanda that a family member was calling. She moaned and reached out for it, flipping it open on its journey to her ear. She held it a fair distance from the bandages, which had just been changed.

"Hello?" She said. She sounded like she'd just gotten up, such was her unamusement.

"Hi, Mandy?" It was her mom. She hadn't heard that voice in months. They hadn't talked at least since September, before the Artemis thing. She'd said to expect her for Christmas. Whoops.

"Hey, Mom," she said. Her voice squeaked the way it did when she tried to sound happy. She was such a lost cause.

"Mandy, everything's all over now, right?" Her mom asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Most of us are recuperating in the hospital."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm-"

"'Cause I tried to call for the past several days, but you weren't answering, and I was so worried, and they said you weren't in the hospital."

"Mom. Calm down," she said. It was so like her mom to get like this, to just rant on and on about how terrified she was. She had to deal with it every time they talked. ("You're going out to fight those scary creatures again! Why?" She'd always ask) She was sympathetic, sure, but the conversations flowed in the same direction each time, a lazy river of topics flowing slowly around and around, never beginning and never ending, with Amanda stuck on a double inner tube with her mother.

"Here, honey, talk to your father-I reached Mandy, dear! Come talk to her!"

There was a click as the other phone in her house was lifted off the hook. "Mandy?" Her father asked. His voice was raspy. He'd been smoking a lot lately.

"Hey, Daddy. Mom's freaking out a bit, but I'm just fine. Only a couple minor burns," she said. She left out the part about the cut on her face and the most-likely-permanent blindness in her right eye.

"Come home, Mandy. We miss you."

Goddammit. She did not want that. Her father said that every time they talked, as did her mom, but she'd always had the Order as an excuse. She was needed; she was one of the few who could fight. But now... She pulled her pillow closer to her and put an arm around it.

"Alright, Daddy," she said. There was nothing else she could say. No buts, no duties, just "alright, Daddy." She wished Darcy was here to hold her, tell her it was alright, but that thought sent tears into her eyes. Her world had cracked. A sob was near, like she'd suddenly transferred from the lazy river to the wave pool, so she hung up the phone, holding down the end call button until it shut off, and dropped it on the ground. She sobbed hard into her pillow, and by the time she was done, it was wetter than a whore with a chastity belt.

She sat up, throwing her covers back. A shower was in order.

Hot water was always comforting, even in times when the blazing temperatures outdoors rivaled that of the spray on her back. She had one of those multi-pressure shower heads, the kind that could come off the hook and spray from your hand. It had been the butt end of many dirty jokes during the weeks they'd spent in the Ark. Road, surprisingly, had been the one to start cracking them. But even now, when all jokes fell flatter than old soda, the shower helped cleanse her of blotchy appearances and feelings. Just the feeling of the washcloth, coarse against her skin, comforted her. It reminded her of days with Darcy, but it also brought her back to the strawberry bubblebath of her youth, her father rubbing little circles on her back as she dunked the boat repeatedly beneath the bubbles. She made little screaming noises for the drowning people and splashing sounds as the boat, aided by her hands, slowly sank to the bottom of the yellow-stained tub.

"Oh, no! It sank!" Her father said, laughing. With his hand, he splashed some water up her back to rinse off the soap. At the time it had felt like a tidal wave. She recalled squealing as water covered her neck. She hit the boat on the bottom of the tub several times and then let it spring up, carrying bubbles and spray with it. Her father got a face-full, and he spluttered. His mustache (a fashion long since removed, thank all deities known and not) dripped with soap and bubbles, and Amanda thought he looked rather like a middle-aged Santa Claus.

But now was not then, though the remembered scene cheered her. She could and did bathe herself. Like she was doing now. She spent extra time on her face, hoping to remove all traces of sadness from her visage.

By the time she emerged from her bathroom nearly half an hour later, she looked at least twice as cheerful as she had going in. That wasn't saying much, but it was a start. Yes, she was going to moon, but not visibly. She was stronger than that. If she kept it all inside, it would be better. Just like it had been when she was younger and her siblings needed a happy big sister to care for them. She tucked the feelings away under the metaphorical bed, which she made very neatly with frilly, happy blankets and a cozy and loving down comforter. Smiling (fakely) to herself in the mirror, she took out the key Allen had made for all the Exorcists and opened a door to her family's living room. It was time to face hell.

The room was the same as it always was. An understuffed couch with the hole in one cushion. A wooden coffee table with bite marks from when the dog got rabies, the glass top smudged and marked by fingertips and coffee mugs. A coffee stain on Daddy's chair, a lazy, burnt orange memento to the seventies, may they rest in peace. A brown ottoman meant to match the carpet, though it was too light to harmonize with the deep shade of the latter. Toys and DVD cases everywhere, tissues from the last bout of colds and flus, four empty mugs, an empty wine glass with some red liquid still at the bottom, and a half-eaten bowl of ramen that looked as though it had sat there at least a week.

Home, sweet home.

Her older brother Carl was asleep on the understuffed couch. He had a tribal-patterned blanket over him, and a little yippy thing that may have been a dog (but was most likely an overlarge rat) curled by his face. Even from here she could smell the alcohol, so Amanda had no problem placing the wineglass (and probably the ramen bowl) as his responsibility.

She tried to tip-toe her way over to the stairs, but she heard an odd, mechanical sound and froze. It didn't sound like Akuma at all, and the laughter of children indicated that all was probably fine, but she had to find out what it was, could not leave it alone. It was still a potential threat, and you had to narrow down everything before dropping your guard. She moved toward the wall, lining up with it as if she meant to diffuse into it, and shuffled until she was barely at the edge of the archway leading to their quote-unquote dining room. She peeked around the corner and saw nothing but the overburdened table. The noise stopped briefly and then began again, headed in her direction. She stepped out, grabbing the nearby stand-up lamp for defense. There was a clunk as the plug was ripped from its socket. Abruptly, a yellow toy dumptruck that came up nearly to Amanda's knees swerved around the corner and collided head-on with her shin. She yelped.

"You little rascal, I'mma rip your li'l head off!" She shouted, replacing the lamp and running (quickly limping) in the direction the plastic vehicle had come from. Something in the adjacent room scrambled, but she was upon it like a cheetah on a gazelle. Once her prey was successfully brought to the floor, she proceeded to go straight for its weakest point-this one was George because he had more blond in his hair, and he had a ticklish spot on his right side that was his Achilles' heel.

"Agh, no, UNCLE, UNCLE!" He yelled. Amanda wanted to continue, but moving her fingers at all was painful. These last few moments had set them throbbing.

"You're lucky I'm injured, you little brute," she said.

"Mandy!" Her brother squirmed futilely to turn over. She suspected he wanted to see her, so she added more weight on his chest, upon which she was sitting. He gasped a little, but she paid it no attention-if he was dying, he'd make dying sounds, and since he was not, she need not mind his idiotic actions.

"Yes, it's me, now shut up, there's no need for-"

"Mandy's home?" Her mother's voice came from the kitchen, which was attached to the other side of the dining room. She was currently in the laundry room, which led to the garage. Her brother had fallen on a pile of clothes.

"Yeah, Mom, in the laundry room" she called, getting up and extending her hand to her little brother. He took it, so she tugged extra hard as he was moving up so that she could propel him into a hug. She squished him into her stomach-he was still so short!-and squeezed him until her bruised appendages protested. He squirmed away and ran, muttering something about cooties on his way out. Oh, George. His mind would change soon enough.

"Good. We weren't expecting you quite so soon. I was going to hold off on dinner, but your brothers were hung-oh, my. You look terrible. Are you alright? You should sit down!" Her mom was in her worn apron, her hair up in a sloppy bun and her face flushed and sweaty. She leaned against the door frame.

"It only looks bad. I'm fine. Ignore the bandages-they're just preventing infection. Do you want help with dinner?" Not that she was in any condition to.

"Oh, dear, that would be fantastic. Thank you." That was her mom. Worried one moment, forgetting about it the next.

"What are we having?" Amanda asked as they walked back to the kitchen. The smell had been covered up by the alcohol and the closed door, but she detected the familiar scent of ground beef cooking.

"Just Hamburger Helper." She spotted the box as her mother spoke. Grabbing an oven mitt, she covered her bandaged hand and took hold of the pan.

"Any veggies?" She asked. It might be helpful to toss some garlic and onion in the mix, maybe even some green beans...

"There's a package of mixed vegetables in the freezer. It's got cheese sauce, too. All you do is microwave it."

"Alright, Mom, I got it from here," she said. She would not be frustrated. It was just dinner as usual.

"Thanks, dear, you're a life-saver. I'll go get your brothers to set the table. Your dad will be down in a minute." She hurried off, and Amanda sighed. She wasn't sure she was cut out for this.

A/N: That was a lot less AlLena than we had been hoping for. Really no idea what will happen in next chapter, though there will be a section where we follow Amanda to school. Also, regarding the beginning of the chapter... Amanda goes to cry on Lavi quite a bit for several days, which is why it was labeled as the 20th of February (way back in the IR Epilogue) when Lavi woke to her crying on him. But she went to cry on him before that, too. Also, never before has Em2 typo'd Amanda as "Amanada," but she assumes that's a nice place north of the USA where men go to relax and hunt Amanadian geese (and mooses).