Well here we are, better late than never. I'm having some real trouble with these early chapters- they're slow and boring but a necessity, I'm afraid. Only one or two more of these and then the real fun starts. I can't wait!
You know, since I started my new job working on urological cancer cases, I'll never look at slash sex the same way again. The prostate is a fascinating piece of anatomy!
One little, tiny, itty-bitty thing to say though. You won't realise how much I love getting the notifications that this story has been favourited or it or I have been put on alert, but please, PLEASE, if you can, take the time to leave quick review. As I said, I'm struggling with this fic and a small show of support would go a long way to helping me. I've had less of a response to this fic than any other multi-chap one I have written. I don't know if it's because this fandom is dying, but I find myself struggling to get the inspiration I need and have been seduced into other fandoms.
If you have any ideas don't hesitate to let me know- the basic plot is there, but most of it is pretty fluid an I'd be definitely up for some more input!
And now I've had my rant, on with the fic!
Chapter Three
It was cold, Allen knew that much. Not that he particularly cared. It was just a consequence of his environment- there was nothing that he could do to improve his situation, so why should he worry about it?
He wasn't worried about a lot any more, actually.
His grey eyes were fixed on a distant point on the horizon, blank and unseeing as the snow-laden clouds rolled in over the Bernese Alps. He was currently crouched in a small cave halfway up the Finsteraarhorn, not that he knew this, tucked away behind an overhang in the rock face that sheltered him from the worst of the weather that was trying to worm its way into the crevice, pushing icy frozen rain and dry, chafing wind into his tiny shelter. He shivered absently, an automatic reaction to the freezing conditions rather than a conscious effort to keep warm.
Where had the summer gone? One day he had been enjoying the last of the dying sun, warm days and cool nights and gentle refreshing breezes, and the next, winter had struck and the days were grey and gloomy- oftentimes it was like the sun had not risen at all. There had been no autumn it seemed, just the tail end of August running into frigid November.
Allen suddenly started upright, the arms that had been clenched around his knees pulling them to his chest abruptly sprung apart and tensed at his sides. He wasn't sure what had startled him from his stupor, and looked around wildly, looking for the source of his surprise.
The small golden golem that had settled on his head fluttered back into the air, conscious that its cold metal body had unexpectedly chilled its master, disturbing him from his half-aware state.
Allen seemed to realize this at the same time and slumped suddenly, like a puppet with cut strings, unable to hold his own weight. "Tim…" he said wearily. It was probably meant to sound like a warning, but sounded more like a tired sigh. The golem fluttered apologetically around him, a small golden satellite, before settling back on Allen's head, nestling amongst the white roots that were growing through. Somehow keeping up the disguise didn't seem to matter anymore. In fact, sometimes Allen had trouble recalling why he was in disguise at all.
He did remember some things, of course he did. He remembered Master Cross and the Black Order, he remembered Mana, he remembered Lavi and Lenalee, Komui, Reever and the scientists. He sniffed and shivered again, drawing his knees back to his chest and heaving a great sigh. He remembered Kanda.
He allowed his mind to wander for a while, thinking about the long-haired Exorcist, absently dragging the now slightly tattered black and silver coat closer to him and inhaling deeply as though he would be able to smell the scent of the coat's original owner on the material still. He couldn't, but it was nice to pretend.
Other things though, he was struggling to recall. He couldn't remember why candles reminded him of pain and suffering, he couldn't remember the name of the police officer he had met on the way to the Order for the very first time. He couldn't remember why he was currently huddled in a freezing cave in Switzerland. And he knew he should remember, he knew that, dammit! Frustrated he pounded his left fist onto the chilled granite, cracking the rock with the force of his innocence hand. He could still remember that at least. He remembered the night he had turned Mana into an Akuma and received the curse in return vividly. He very much doubted that whatever was happening to him would ever be able to remove the memory of his unrefined, animalistic innocence clawing the skeletal-framed body of his adoptive father, nor the memory of that metallic finger tearing across his face, narrowly avoiding blinding him.
He also knew, though didn't understand why, that he had to remember his innocence, had to.
If he forgot what it was, what made him different, what protected him, then… well, he wasn't sure what, but he knew that something bad would happen.
He idly considered that the memory loss should have affected him more than it was. He should definitely feel more worried about the memories of his life disappearing than he was, but the apathy that had threatened to overtake him as he watched Kanda walk away in the opposite direction when they parted ways on the outskirts of Paris was taking a stronger hold day after day. He couldn't find it in himself to care all that much anymore. Vaguely, the idea that he had come here, to the most remote area of these mountains, to escape people, to avoid attracting Akuma into populated areas and thus protecting the townspeople that would otherwise have been caught in the cross-fire came to mind, but he waved it off as unimportant. It didn't matter, in the end, the reason that he was here. He just was, that was all there was to it.
It had been frigidly cold. So cold that he was having trouble concentrating on even putting one foot in front of the other. He had no clue where he was, where he was going. He was staring to forget where he'd been.
He dragged his feet, stumbling and almost falling over a rock half-buried in the snow. He heard smothered laughter and looked up to see a young boy, perhaps five or six sniggering at him for his near-fall, and his older sister berating her sibling for laughing at the strange man walking down the street. A couple of villagers were also standing around, watching him curiously. He probably looked a fright, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was just so tired…
The Akuma had jumped out of nowhere. He hadn't been expecting an attack and his eye hadn't reacted ever since he left Paris. It was slow to react now, whirring into action with painful sluggishness and a low grinding noise that told him just how weak he was.
His left arm twitched... once, twice, before finally activating, jarring his entire body as he stumbled forward, only just catching himself before he fell to his face in the snow. He couldn't fight here, he realised, catching the terrified eyes of the two young siblings standing outside their house. There were too many people around- too many people to get in the way. Too many people who would die if he failed.
The Akuma was everywhere, moving faster than his eyes could follow and running circles around him while he stood helplessly by, watching, waiting for an opening.
Kanda's coat, long, tattered and scuffed flared around him as he spun, trying to keep the demon in sight. The coat was supposed to attract the Akuma's attention- that was the purpose of the exorcist uniform, to make them stand out, to draw the Akuma's attention- he remembered that lesson from his master at least. It didn't seem to be working- the Akuma had worked itself into such a frenzy that it was taking pot-shots at anything that moved, apart from Allen it seemed. Perhaps it was stupid, perhaps it thought that if it pretended that the man in the exorcist coat wasn't there, then it couldn't be attacked. Perhaps it simply didn't see Allen.
Either way, Allen was ignored by the demon in favour of terrorizing the small settlement.
A well-built man in his fifties ran over to Allen and clutched his arm. He appeared to recognise the emblem on the coat that Allen wore, and began gesticulating wildly, pointing at the Rose Cross and then at the Akuma, clearly expecting Allen to do something.
Allen shook his head, not understanding the garbled German tumbling from the man's mouth.
The man growled and yanked Allen's arm sharply dragging him forward before turning and wagging his finger in Allen's face, pointing once more at the Rose Cross and sneering, obviously unimpressed by Allen's lack of action.
Allen pushed the man aside as the Akuma dived at them both. The man fell to the floor, avoiding the Akuma as it flew over his head, but it didn't stop when it missed its target and ploughed into Allen with the force of a train. Pushed back, Allen dug in his heels and threw all of his meagre weight into his arms which he had raised at the last minute to shield his body. The Akuma was pressed against the innocence arm; its ugly face inches away from Allen's own.
"Exorcist…" it hissed, spittle flying form its mouth. As the liquid landed on his face, Allen realised that it was virus-laced, black pentacles exploding wherever they touched. It paused, confused, studying Allen closely. "Master Noah?"
"Errr…" Allen started, a little confused himself. He wasn't a Noah. Something pounded at the door to the memories that had been locked away, begging to be acknowledged. Noah were… evil, the enemy. Why was he hesitating?
The Akuma stopped pushing against Allen and looked down at the black arm and wicked silver claws, following the white cloak across his shoulders before giving the exorcist coat a once over, its gaze finally landing on Allen's face. It sneered foully, its already twisted humanoid face deforming further. "Innocence? Exorcist…" it said, more confidently this time, pulling back suddenly and making Allen stumble. As he fought to regain his balance, the Akuma moved, swinging a long, unnatural arm into Allen's chest and sending him flying across the street and into the front of one of the houses.
All around people began screaming and running as the Akuma resumed its rampage. Allen pushed a beam from over his head just in time to see the siblings that he had spotted laughing at him earlier explode into a flurry of ashes.
The Akuma spun in a circle, laughing all the while.
It was the last thing Allen saw before the rest of the building collapsed onto him, burying him in the rubble.
When he awoke sometime later, he had been dragged from the remains of the building and abandoned at the roadside. He supposed that he should be grateful that they had bothered to get him out of the rubble at all.
None of his injuries had been treated, and as he sat up he felt a rather uncomfortable ache which originated from somewhere in the vicinity of his recently healed shoulder and another that warned him that trying to stand would be a bad idea. Unfortunately he had little choice. As soon as they became aware that he was conscious once more, the villagers who had been working near by gathered around him. the expressions on their dirt-smeared faces were decidedly unfriendly.
They closed in around him, blocking his view of the destroyed settlement and trapping him in a circle of solid human flesh.
"Who do you think you are!" a man blustered at him in broken English, switching to French in case he could get his point across any better. "You've done nothing to help us! Isn't that your job, exorcist?"
Allen hung his head. "I'm sorry, there was nothing else I could have done."
"My children, you killed my children!" a woman screamed, trying to fight her way through the crowd to get at Allen. "This is all your fault! That thing didn't turn up until you came! You're the monster here!" she sobbed, turning limp and collapsing brokenly in the arms of the men holding her back.
"Get out of our town, we have no need for your kind here, coward!"
"Coward? Don't you mean demon? Look at him- he's obviously in league with that monster!"
"Leave, and don't come back, devil-child!"
Someone picked up a rock and threw it, narrowly missing Allen's head. It landed with a dull thud beside him, rolling and coming to a rest against his hand.
"Monster!"
"Demon!"
"Devil-spawn!"
"Freak!
Allen didn't stay to hear any more.
0o0o0o0o0
Tyki grumbled silently to himself, not letting the girl standing next to him hear it. It wouldn't do for his little toy to realize what a precarious position she held. He was rapidly growing bored of her presence. While her slim, androgynous form was attractive, in its own way, it did not hold that spark for him, did not grip him with the first throes of passion or ignite his senses, did not make him feel like he had when he had held the dark-haired, dark-eyed version of one Allen Walker, did not thrill him the way that holding Allen Walker's still beating heart in his hand had, the way that the fire in those eyes had made his pulse race, the way that the boy's mouth had snarled obscenities at him, spewed hatred and turned him on more than anything he had ever encountered in his life.
The hatred that he saw on the pale exorcists face even while he tried to save an enemy… he shifted discretely, glancing to the side to see if Jo had spotted the effect his thoughts were having on his body.
She didn't appear to have noticed anything. Big surprise there.
He looked her up and down subtly. When he'd taken her in, he thought to use her in any way he could, disposing of her once she'd outlived her usefulness, but he was coming to realise that the girl was far less use to him than he'd previously expected. In fact, she had almost no beneficial information at all. He'd met some extremely obtuse people in his time, but this girl was top of the leader board in that sense. Sometimes he had the impression that she was being deliberately imperceptive, seeing only what she wanted to see- surely nobody could have survived on the streets for as long as she had and be that dull-witted, and yet other times she said or did something so monumentally stupid that he was left doubting whether the girl was in possession of a brain at all.
It appeared that the exorcists had been keeping her out of the loop, and the fact that apart from 'hello', 'yes', 'goodbye' and 'no', she only possessed about five words of English, none of which were particularly savoury, meant that she hadn't even been able to eavesdrop on their conversations. All Tyki could glean from her regarding the two men was that the one called Kanda was apparently a massive jerk and that he and Allen were engaged in a physical relationship that she found offensive and now, given permission to bitch as much as she wanted to at the Noah, she made the fact that the homosexual relationship between the two exorcists sickened her blatantly obvious. Tyki generally just tuned her out when she started ranting.
But now he was left with a problem. What was he supposed to do with her now?
When he had first had the idea of using the French girl to gain information about the exorcists, he had intended to hand the girl over to Rhode to play with. Now he wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Either Rhode would warp the girl's dreams and have her fun with the teen before killing her brutally, or (and here he shuddered), they would team up, united by their fascination with Allen and therefore hatred of Kanda and scheme to t5ake over the world. He snorted with amusement. If they were going to start a "we love Allen" fan club, he'd most likely be the third member. Which lead him back to his original dilemma. How to dispose of the brat?
Beside him, the cat-formed Lulubell meowed, arching her back against his ankles in a parody of a housecat. He raised his eyebrow at her.
She gave him a significant look and bounded off into a nearby alley.
Curiosity piqued, he drew to a stop, jerking the girl with her arm looped through his elbow to a stop also.
"TYki? What's the matter?"
"I thought I saw something…" he murmured, heading towards the alleyway and dragging the human with him.
Jo tried to hang back a little. Usually disappearing into dark, dirty alleys wouldn't have been a problem, but her dress was long and dragged along the floor, so if she could avoid going near a puddle she would.
"Come now," Tyki said, turning to her with a smirk "surely a little alley like this doesn't worry you?"
She threw her chin into the air and huffed. "Of course not!" she denied, dragging her arm from his grip and marching forward. "Nothing worries me!" she declared over her shoulder as she lead the way into the alley. Tyki didn't bother following her, he merely waited outside until the now human Lulubell emerged from the shadows.
She gave him a small smile and wiped her bottom lips with her thumb suggestively. "I thought you were in a hurry?" she asked.
Tyki tried to see around her, peering over her shoulder into the alley. "What did you do with her?"
"Never mind" the other Noah snapped. "Isn't there an exorcist that you have to capture? Something about the Earl wanting to question him about his ability to call the Ark?"
Now it was Tyki's turn to huff, annoyed. "I'm perfectly aware of my task, Lulubell. I merely wanted to know if you'd done a satisfactory job of disposing of the brat."
The woman gave him a cold look, but didn't reply. Instead, quick as a flash, she returned to her cat-form, neatly slashing a set of parallel cuts in the hem of his perfectly pressed trousers as she bounded away.
Tyki shook his head, looking mournfully down at the new air-holes in his second-favourite pair of trousers. "Damn cat-woman" he growled before pitching his jacket over one shoulder and striding away.