Chapter thirty – Last glimpse paradise

After much debate, they decided to catch the bus back to the school. Somebody – Lenalee, probably – had proposed calling Komui but it had been surprisingly Lavi to shoot down that suggestion.

"I don't know about anyone else," He'd said heavily, "But after tonight, I don't particularly feel like having this discussion again for the Headmaster."

Allen wasn't an idiot though. Lavi was doing it for him. And he was grateful.

Emotionally wrung out, aching and injured they'd shuffled onto the bus in silence, the bus driver looking understandably baffled – and perhaps a little bit suspicious – at their battered appearance, Lenalee's red-rimmed eyes and Kanda's bandage-wrapped wrist which he held awkwardly to his side – the sling Sarah had forced it none-too-gently in stuffed innocently in his back pocket.

It took several impatient minutes of Kanda shuffling about his swollen ankle – not broken – and keeping his wrist – broken – held close to his chest before the four of them managed to find a set of seats suitable for them.

There was a moment of panic when they realized they didn't have any money but before even Allen could open his mouth and deliver a sob-tale guaranteed to bring the most hardened of criminals to their knees, the driver threw the bus in gear and took off.

"I'm not going to leave four kids who look like they met the rear-end of my bus out in the streets at seven in the morning," He grouched at them. "I have children of my own."

They didn't question him.

The dull rocking of the aged buss and the stained scent of oil and gears was enough to mist Allen's mind and cause an indistinct haze to waft vaguely through it as he leant heavily on Kanda's side – his good one, not the one coloured an alarming array of purple, black and blue.

He was tired and emotionally drained. Reliving his past had taken a lot out of him – more than he'd thought he'd had. He expected to feel heavier or lighter or even just a little bit pleased, but instead he felt nothing. He was just numb. He wasn't sure whether this was because he was so tired and weighted down by the worry his friends had put him through or if he was genuinely going to be impassive about this. He hadn't slept in going on thirty-something hours and he was really far too out of it to be pondering stuff like this.

Vaguely, through eyes thick with sleep, he peered up at Kanda through the tilting rays of yellow that were streaming in the bus window in a dim flood of light.

It was a little bit strange, but after his epiphany, Allen had expected something to change. For the way he saw Kanda to evolve into something different, if even just a little. Instead, it all remained surprisingly normal. He wasn't encompassed in a spray of silver light or infinitely more beautiful than before. He was still the same old Kanda who wore a scowl and spat harsh words like it was nothing.

Beside him, as if sensing his gaze, Kanda shifted and looked down at Allen but – Allen noted – didn't shove him away from the way he leant on him. "What?" He snapped irritably.

"Mhm. Nothing."

"Then stop staring at me like a retard."

Allen chuckled softly at this and ignored Kanda's perplexed expression as he turned to gaze along the rows of seats that lined the bus. He was exhausted, tired and worried. He thought he was entitled to act however he wished even if that might be completely crazy.

They rumbled down the road cheerfully as the sun brightened in the morning sky and Allen watched dazedly as the fluttering shapes of buildings darted by outside the window and vaguely, at the back of his mind, Allen felt faintly offended that it seemed so cheerful outside after the incidents of the previous night. It was an affront to everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, a spit in the face to Allen's declaration only an hour or so before. To Allen's realization about Kanda. To everything he stood for.

Allen only realized he was starting to daze off when a sharp elbow to his side brought him rocketing back to reality. Turning hazily he realized Kanda was looking at him with a faint frown between his eyebrows. "Oi Moyashi, we're here."

And so they were. Allen blinked and struggled out of the seat, being excessively careful not to knock Kanda as he went. He briefly considered offering Kanda a hand as he stood in aisle and watched him fight to ease free with the same fluidity Allen had – failing with his twisted ankle, broken wrist and bruised body. Perhaps sensing Allen's intentions Kanda snapped his head up and glared, finally wiggling out and giving Allen a definitive shove with his good hand. "Move it," he snapped and Allen didn't hesitate to obey.

Passing the bus driver on the way out, Allen gave him a short nod and dismounted the bus stairs to wait for his friend to gather before the bus hurtled away and the quartet was collected and able to shuffle inch by painful inch past the school gates.

It must have only been somewhere in the neighbourhood of seven or eight in the morning for the grounds were empty; students bundled up in bed to enjoy the burgeoning weekend and teachers off doing whatever it was teachers did when they were on their own time.

Somehow it was silently agreed that talking was over with – for now, at least. They were filthy, pained and tired. Allen didn't know how much longer he'd be able to stay on his feet at this rate and Lavi looked like the knock he'd taken to the head might have set in motion a particularly nasty headache in place of the concussion he'd narrowly missed out on. Lenalee didn't look too much better.

Lenalee left them in the foyer giving all of them careful but tights hugs before she left, mindful of injuries and the like, and trotted off in the direction of the girls rooms. Lavi followed suit a few minutes later as he stepped off the first landing which led to his room, waving over his shoulder but not grinning.

It took Allen and Kanda significantly more time than they would have liked to reach their own room; Kanda's ankle still a little swollen and shaky, not quite up to taking his full weight on the intimidating climb. Allen helped him along as best as he could and would be infinitely grateful Kanda hadn't shoved him away when he'd snuck in close and tossed the elder man's arm around his shoulder and wrapped his own firmly around his waist.

It was a shame to have Kanda both so close and docile and not be able to full appreciate it, but as Allen hauled the two of them to their room, he figured he had a few more pressing things to worry about.

After fumbling for the room key for a good few minutes – there had been an alarming second before Allen's fingers had closed over it where he'd started to worry they'd managed to lose both of them in the excitement – they piled into their room. Kanda sat heavily down on the nearest chair and the most undignified sigh escaped him as he took the pressure off his injured foot.

"You good?" Allen asked as he hovered uncertainly over him for a moment, unwilling to leave him quite yet if Kanda was so openly relieved about something as simple as sitting down.

"I'm fine beansprout," he grunted. "Go take a shower or whatever it is you want to do. I'm just… going to sit a while."

Allen shot him one last dubious look but complied none-the-less, gathering up a fresh change of clothes and a towel before sweeping into the bathroom with the last remnants of his energy.

He didn't bother with the lock.

The water helped clear his head somewhat from the indistinct haze that had been flittering throughout since first morning light and eased the tension in his joints.

So that was it then? That was all it had taken?

The others had listened to him without once interrupting or scoffing or any of the other horrid things he was sure would happen. They didn't see him any differently, weren't treating him like he'd break, weren't rushing to end their friendship for fear of their own safety.

Allen actually felt horrible for having doubted them.

And then there was the other fear; the fear of having to relive all that over again. To remember all the horrible things that had happened to him under the care of the NOAH. The pain, the experiments, the fear and – the worst of them all – the never ending loneliness. Of being so completely and utterly alone.

It had been there – all of that – when he talked about it, but with Lenalee and her careful touches and the burning feel of Kanda's gaze, it had been there somewhere distant, like he was looking at and feeling things that had happened to another person entirely an age ago.

Maybe they had. The years that had passed were long and Allen wasn't the same scared child that had sat in the corners and stared listlessly at walls.

Allen stepped out of the shower, dressed, looked into the mirror and saw nothing other than a skinny, white haired boy with shoulders that weren't as hunched as they were before, like a weight had been lifted.

Allen tried a smile and found that while he looked tired and worried and still horribly grim… it didn't hurt nearly as much.

Allen left his gloves by the sink and hurried out of the bathroom.

The lights in the main room were off when he stepped into the gloom and the blinds had been pulled so tightly shut that if it wasn't for the small blade of light that spilt from between the shafts, he would have had trouble believing it wasn't dark out at all.

Kanda was already curled up in his bed and that and the fact that he'd left his clothes carelessly on the floor as he'd changed let Allen see just how truly tired and worn out Kanda was. The man normally immaculate and neat and hated the prospect of undue sleep, of napping when there was light out. But it had been a long night and many things had happened and Allen couldn't say he was all that surprised.

Carefully, he crept forward across the room. Kanda wasn't yet asleep, he could tell, but with everything so calm and peaceful Allen didn't want to risk disturbing the tranquil atmosphere with noise or the like.

He stopped just by the side of Kanda's bed and, after a moment's hesitation in which he thought of many unnecessary things, slid in beside him.

Kanda shuffled over without any hesitation what-so-ever.

They lay like that a moment, side by side on their backs staring at the ceiling in darkness, before Kanda's hand found his under the covers – Allen's left one, horribly scarred and blackened and ugly.

His first reaction was to flinch away – he didn't want to because this was Kanda and Allen always wanted Kanda close to him even if it wasn't in the same way the man wanted him – but Kanda tightened his grip and Allen stilled.

After a moment in which Allen's heart beat loudly in his ears – ba-thump, ba-thump – Kanda's grip slackened just a bit and slowly, very slowly, he drew their joined hands out from beneath the covers to rest on top of the blankets. With soft fingers, Kanda traced the wrinkles on Allen's hand, his arm, all of it. It was unnerving and all kinds of risky but Allen stayed still anyway because this wasn't about any of that; this was about trust and yeah, okay, maybe something else a little deeper too.

A few careful minutes passed before Kanda's hand glided back down to rest just on top of Allen's hand, his fingers closing in between the gaps in his knuckles.

Allen felt bafflingly breathless.

"Hey," Kanda said into the dark.

"Yeah?" Allen replied.

"You're going to be okay."

And Allen had seen death and decay, he'd felt it. He'd clung to burning poles to test his endurance and been pumped full of six different drugs all at once to see how they'd mix. Allen had lost everyone who had ever given a damn about him and some – like his birth parents – who apparently never cared at all. He'd cried and screamed and sometimes lashed out at the wrong people because he hurt and sometimes he couldn't help but think 'this isn't fair' or 'I just don't care anymore'. Allen had nearly died, hoped to die and given up living. He took pills because something hurt and when those pills made something else hurt, well, he had pills for that too.

Allen had seen and done and heard so many different things in his short few years of existence that at times his brain didn't even know what to do with it.

But somehow, through all that, he didn't think he'd ever heard something quite so beautiful as what Kanda has just said.

Yeah. He could be okay. He didn't know how to do that, or what that even really meant, but he thought he might like to try it, even if just for once.

If Kanda said he could be okay, Allen thought he might just manage.

"Yeah," Allen whispered back. "I'm going to be okay."

oOo_oOo_oOo

It was something of a pandemonium in the mansion.

Everybody seemed to be talking all at once and all about a dozen different things, the candles spread out across the unfeasibly long dining table kept flickering as the wax dripped and the wicks shortened, shuddering shadows flitting across the full room.

It was loud and it was both dark and bright at once and it was almost enough to give one a headache.

The Earl sat in the corner with his knitting and patiently waited for it all to stop.

It took a few minutes but eventually the talking reached something of a lull as the others seemed to realize the Earl was waiting. After a second, he set down his knitting and leant forward in his rocking chair to get a proper look at the assembled.

"My dear children, bickering won't accomplish anything," he scolded and Jasdero and Debitto actually had the good grace to look appropriately abashed (they had been amongst the loudest voices at the table).

"Thank you," Tkyi snapped, sounding both grateful to the Earl and annoyed at his siblings.

The Earl gave him an indulgent smile. "Now, now Tyki. I'm not saying I don't understand why the others are upset, all I'm saying is all this noise isn't going to get us anywhere." It was silent for a minute. "But I do have to ask my pet, how is it that you let them get away?"

Personally, Tyki found it unfair that he was the only one getting chewed out for this. Rhode had been there too. She was the favourite, he supposed (even if The Earl said he didn't play favourites, because everyone knew he did).

"I didn't mean to," he answered as steadily as he could. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't." The Earl smiled although there was nothing remotely comforting about the smile. Chilling, maybe.

Dismissing Tyki (and Rhode's) screw-up with thankfully less fuss than Tyki had anticipated, the Earl turned to full address the complete crowd.

"Children, I know it's been an uncomfortably long time for all of you to get this far, but we're nearly there. You won't have to stay idle for much longer."

"Does this mean we get to bring Allen in?" Rhode asked eagerly as she rocked forward in her chair and Tyki had to place a hand in front of her to steady her if she overbalanced in her excitement – he knew it'd somehow manage to be his fault if Rhode hurt herself. That was just how the day was going.

The Earl chuckled fondly. "Not quite my dear. We're not bringing in Allen."

"Who then?" Skin frowned.

Tyki would never completely adjust to seeing that terrifying grin.

"But my children, who else? The fourteenth!"