Months pass by him at the Order before Allen truly realises just how long it has been. Most of his time is spent travelling, a vast majority of those months spent on trains and boats and carriages and on foot between towns and countries, and he has had very little down time at the Order itself, often finding himself training whenever he finds himself with nothing to do. His arm often feels weak from the sudden increase in his use of its abilities, but he can feel it growing stronger, able to control it much better than he used to. He has tried many times to figure out why he had so hated fighting the demons, and always comes up short of any answer that doesn't seem petty. He has only gained from defeating them, able to give his weapon the exercise it has apparently needed while ridding the world of the creatures that plague it, freeing the souls bound to them in the process. He is doing good now, and berates himself for not accepting it sooner.
He is called into Komui's office late one night, which he finds a little strange. He has been called in for many missions over his time here, but it has always been during hours when people would actually be awake; for him to be summoned now he suspects it must be some kind of emergency. He's not wrong as he steps into the supervisor's office and finds most of the staff engrossed in some kind of research or agitated phone calls, Komui himself poring over the papers scattered across his desk and the maps hanging from the shelves behind him. "Ah, Allen," he says, sounding a little surprised as Allen stops just in front of his desk. "I hope we didn't wake you, bringing you here."
"No, sir," Allen replies, absently wondering if it's later than he'd thought. "Is... there something the matter?"
Komui sighs, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. The fatigue weighs heavy in his features. "You could say that. I'm sorry, I know you only got back yesterday, but I need to send you out toDenmark. You leave first thing tomorrow morning."
"Oh." He pauses, thinks it over for a moment as he tries to figure out what's going on. "That's fine, but what exactly is it that's happening in Denmark?"
"You'll get your actual report sometime between now and when you leave, I'm sure, things are just a little hectic right now. There's been a huge spike in demon activity around a town in the south, with apparently no discernible reasoning behind it, and we need to get Apostles there fast. You and Kanda are both going."
Something drops in his gut at the sound of Kanda's name in that sentence, almost scared of what's going to happen if Kanda is forced to be stuck with him. "I-I'm sorry, sir," he begins cautiously, "But, um. I'm not sure if you remember, but Kanda doesn't exactly like me, I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"I know, Allen, and I'm sorry for sticking you with him, but you're the only ones we have available right now," Komui tells him, sinking down into his desk chair as someone hands him a collection of papers. "And Kanda is one of our strongest, next to the Marshals; it's better we send him, considering their tactic."
"Their tactic?"
"This level of demon activity in such a small area is unprecedented. It feels as though they're trying to draw our attention on purpose, to lure us out. One of our team members was killed this morning, and two more just an hour or so ago. It reeks of a trap. I'm loathe to send any of you, for fear we're walking right into it, but people are dying and will likely only continue to do so."
"I understand," Allen says, and Komui looks at him. "It wouldn't be the first trap I've walked into on purpose, at least. Kanda and I will handle it."
Komui smiles a little, showing a little relief through his fatigue. "Thank you," he says, and Allen hopes that he can actually stay true to his words.
He finds the briefing placed outside his door when he wakes just before sunrise the next morning, along with a small earpiece and a brief, messy note to go with it, explaining that it is for short-distance communication. He places it on his left ear, unfamiliar with the weight it carries, and picks up the briefing as he heads down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat before they leave, reading through it over his meal. It doesn't really explain much more than he had gathered from Komui last night, but it does so in much more detail, and perusing the specifics makes him a little more nervous about the nature of it.
"So I hear you're going on a mission with Yū," someone says in front of him, and he looks up to be met with what is fast becoming a familiar smile.
"Oh, Lavi," he replies, setting the briefing down on the table as Lavi slides into the seat across the table from him. "I thought you were on a mission?"
"Yeah, I just got back, and I am knackered, let me tell you. I heard you were heading out soon though, so I figured I'd see if I could catch you before you left, and lo and behold." He reaches over to take the folder and browse through it, his smile fading almost unnoticeably as he flicks through. "Sounds like a big one," he mutters, handing the folder back, then perks up again before Allen can even ask any questions. "Have you spoken to Yū yet?"
It hits him that he has never heard that name before, realising that Lavi had said it earlier. "Yū?"
"Kanda's given name," Lavi tells him, and he wonders if there's some reason nobody else uses it.
"Oh." He sighs at the thought of the impending disaster waiting for him, leaning his arms on the table. "No, not yet. I'm meeting him by the gate in... twenty minutes."
"Ah, you'll be fine. I'm sure he just overreacted when he threatened to murder you. And even if he does want to, he won't until your mission's over."
"Why is that?"
"He's a studious man, Al; he puts the job before everything else. It's kind of scary sometimes, really." There is a brief silence as Allen considers how quickly he should leave after their mission is over to be safe, and then Lavi yawns, standing up. "Anyway, you should probably be heading down. You'll want to be at least five minutes early, trust me. I'm going to go take a nap, so I'll see you around, yeah? Good luck."
"Thank you," he says, watching as Lavi meanders off out of the cafeteria, then lets out a sigh, gathering his things and resigning himself to his impending doom.
He is standing at the gate for a minute and a half before Kanda shows up, stepping in from outside, glancing briefly at him and then simply turning to walk back out again. Allen takes that as his indication to follow, so he walks outside and finds two horses standing in wait, a member of the grounds team stepping back as Kanda hoists himself up onto one of them. It's been a long time since he's ridden a horse, the last being a disaster (mostly at the fault of Cross, he remembers), but he has no time to hesitate as Kanda spurs his mount into action, at least moving slowly to start with. Allen considers sticking his tongue out in mock at Kanda's back, but figures he's above that and simply mounts the horse, as carefully as he can while rushing through it, then begins to ride off after Kanda, who speeds up once Allen has caught up to him until they are both riding at a gallop, past the town closest to the Order and towards London where he assumes they'll catch a boat.
As he had expected it is silent throughout the whole trip, with Kanda not once acknowledging his existence. At least it's better than being insufferable and trying to take his head, Allen thinks, but it is not much of a consolation. He only risks making an attempt at conversation once, two hours into the ride, and he barely gets out the first word before Kanda spurs his horse on with a sharp hup and rides off ahead of him. He doesn't make that mistake again.
They catch a boat from London to the mainland and a series of trains from the port through to Denmark, two days passing before they finally make it to the city they need to be in. Allen is glad that he got at least some sleep on the trains, because they step into action immediately, scouting the town for any signs of the demons. Nothing seems terribly out of the ordinary as they wander through the town, passing countless people and between buildings and down every side street that won't get them lost, Kanda's sharp eyes taking in everything around them while Allen's itches with anticipation but never reacts. Unless there had somehow been a mistake and this is not the place they needed to be, then there should theoretically be demons all over the place. Perhaps this was a trap, but if it is then it's a pretty poor one, considering there isn't even anything around to kill them now that they're here.
Kanda begins to grow more frustrated the longer they spend aimlessly walking around, itching for a fight and angry at having been lead on. He's just about ready to pull his sword on anything that moves by the time that night falls and they finally give up, finding an inn and settling down for food. Kanda gives Komui a very angry phonecall once he's finishes eating, impatient and ticked of, Allen sitting quietly by and listening in. "There's nothing here," he growls the moment somebody on the other side picks up, sparing no small talk. "Yes, we checked the whole area. We've been looking for them all bloody day, and so far not a single one. I know it's a fucking trap, but if this is the best they can do then I'm surprised we ever have problems with them. I don't give a shit how certain you are, I am here right now and I am telling you that there is nothing here. Yes, he's here. I don't know, I haven't fucking talked to him. Yeah, fine, you two can hash this out like morons, I'm going to go do something that's actually fucking useful."
Kanda steps back and looks at Allen for the first time since they left, holding the phone out to him, and he jumps out of his seat to take it before Kanda gets impatient, putting it to his ear as Kanda wanders off somewhere else. "This is Allen," he says, and there's a relieved sigh on the other end of the line.
"Allen, thank goodness," Komui says, sounding even more tired than he had the last time Allen saw him. "Kanda is nearly impossible to talk to rationally when he's upset, I'm glad you're there. Tell me exactly what's happened since you got there."
"Well, um. As soon as we got off the train at about ten this morning we've been scouting out the town looking for them, but we haven't been able to find anything that makes it look like they were ever here at all. Maybe the trap was to lead us here and strike somewhere else?"
"That may well be, but..." He lapses into thought, the line quiet as Allen waits. "We've been keeping up with the footstaff in the area, and they haven't reported anything strange since last night. They must have known you were coming and... vanished, I suppose, but that doesn't really make any sense. Look, we'll get in contact with you if anything changes, just... Stay there for now, and stay on your guard."
"Alright, we will," Allen replies, left in a state of confusion as Komui hangs up and he replaces the phone on the hook. Maybe they're after the Order itself, leading the Apostles away so they can strike without hindrances, but surely if that was the case then they'd have done that years ago, before it got so big. Regardless, he now needs to go and track down Kanda to relay the information to him, which is not likely to be fun considering he still hasn't said a word, but as Lavi had told him, business comes first. He steps out of the dining room to the foyer to find Kanda talking to the innkeeper, who looks a little scared as Kanda grills them for any information they have, recent deaths, strange events, any changes to their schedule in the past week or so. Satisfied that the innkeeper is useless, he turns to head off somewhere else, then pauses when he catches sight of Allen in the doorway, narrowing his eyes. "Komui says we need to stay here until further notice," Allen tells him, keeping it brief and to the point.
Kanda sneers, turning on his heel to head back up the stairs, but pauses on the first step, thoughtful. Allen watches him with all the curiosity of somebody who doesn't understand, and then Kanda turns again, heading for the door instead. "We'll do another round," he mumbles roughly, presumably to himself, but Allen takes it as having been directed at him and has to quell a smile before following after him, stepping back out into the street. A light rain had started up during the time they'd been inside, and a glance eastward to where the clouds are coming in from proves that it will only get worse, the night seeming so much darker with no moonlight to illuminate it. Kanda pauses just outside the doorstep, moving his hand up and turning his palm skyward; Allen watches in silence as he sighs, closing his eyes briefly, then begins to make his way down the street toward the main part of town.
They wander for another hour or so through the rain, sticking to places illuminated by streetlights or the gentle glow from houses and pubs. They are both about ready to call it a night and finally get some sleep, but as they slowly make their way back to the inn through the main street Allen's eye shifts, and he stops dead. "Kanda," he says lowly, and Kanda stops, looking back at him as he frantically searches for where it is, for the soul that marks it. "I can't find it yet, but there's at least one here."
Kanda scoffs, whether at Allen or at this new information he can't tell, and his hand raises to his sword, clicking it out of its sheath and sitting ready. Allen continues to search, his eyes passing over everything that even remotely looks like a living object in the gloom, and then he finally finds it, stepping out of a pub and heading south. He steps into a run after it with Kanda close behind, planning to tackle it down and grill it for answers, and though the demon is much smarter than that, bolting off the moment it catches wind of their presence, this only serves to spur Kanda on, charging forth with renewed vigour. Allen considers telling him to wait, not to kill it straight up, but Kanda will likely give it time to explain itself even though he has been waiting for days for a fight, so he keeps his mouth shut and focuses on keeping track of it, the two of them following it into a small alley between a couple of buildings.
"Dumb move," Kanda sneers at it as they stop at the mouth of the alley, the demon in human form looking at them like a cornered dog. Kanda draws his sword, almost grinning as he runs his fingers down the blade and making it glow.
The demon takes a step back, but has nowhere to go, at least not in its current form. Allen wonders why it isn't changing, leaving its mask behind to try and flee or attack them. Kanda begins to walk down the alley towards it, willing to take his time, but there is a crimson shimmer through the buildings and a rising headache in Allen's mind, and he finally catches on, eyes going wide. "Kanda, stop!" he calls, then the demon smiles, finally shedding its skin, and the others behind it burst through or over the building to enclose them in the alley, three of them moving to block the mouth and their only exit.
"I'd say yours was the dumb move," the demon chides in its grossly deformed voice, crawling up the wall to join the three around it. Seven in total, Allen counts, all class two, and the sinking feeling in his gut only grows deeper.
Kanda surprises him by barking a single, sharp laugh that is not at all humoured, sword poised and ready. "I'll still kick your asses," he growls, taking one hand away from his sword and flicking it at his side, the rain collecting in a small ball of water hovering just beside his hand.
The demon laughs, then leaps, screaming as Kanda launches the ball at its face and the water eats through its skin, but the others begin to move in behind it, rearing to kill them. Allen activates his arm and blocks one of the ones behind them, focusing his attention on those while Kanda works on the other four. Some of them are much higher along their class than others and are bound to prove much more of a challenge, but he tells himself to focus on the fight rather than the odds; they won't be able to escape without killing at least a few of them first, so there is no point in considering that option now.
Several of them open fire, raining spheres of hot energy down on them, too many to dodge entirely, and he curses their luck as a few clip by him, one hitting him in the hip and knocking him backwards, Kanda catching one in the shoulder and rolling back across the floor, using the momentum to turn himself around and launch at the ones that had been behind him, slicing clean through one and making a deep incision in another. He pushes himself off the corpse before it disintegrates, back towards the ones in front, water flowing from the blade of his sword as he swings it through the air in front of him and spilling across the demons, not enough to kill them but enough to maim and hinder them. Allen is suddenly very aware of why Komui had classed him as one of their best, stepping out of his way as he lands and skids across the ground, launching into a sprint from there.
Allen turns back to the last demon behind them, grasping it as it takes to the air and bringing it back down to the ground, bits of its spine bending and snapping under the pressure. There is an explosion behind him just as he turns to face it, proud shouts rising from the three that remain, and as the smoke clears he sees Kanda shakily bring himself back to his feet, spitting blood out at the remains of what had been the wall to their right. They fire again and Allen jumps forward to deflect them, glancing back at Kanda and finding him rather the worse for wear; he seems to have borne the brunt of the collapse almost in full, and it's a wonder he's even still alive, let alone standing as strongly as he is.
They wait for the demons to stop firing before they attack again, Allen pulling his arm away once there is a lull in the chaos, intending to leap forward, but they had only fallen into another trap. The demon that had led them here (which he thought had died after Kanda melted its face off) leaps from within the rubble of the building, too close for them to have time to react and launching debris at them with the force of its jump, grabbing them both in its claws and slamming them to the ground. The concrete meets the back of Allen's head with a force that makes his teeth rattle, his vision swimming and the demons' laughs sounding distant in his mind as they move in around them, screeching with the glee of their kills. He wonders if he really is going to die here, after having finally made up his mind to destroy every last one of them. If Cross were here he would be berating him for giving in so easily, but he can't get his mind to focus, can't get the world to stay in one place.
Don't kill them yet, somebody says, and then there is silence, whether because the demons have stopped or his mind has ceased to listen he doesn't know, and his conscious stream of thoughts is ended with the realisation that Kanda is probably going to blame him for whatever is coming next.
When he finally wakes it is to a dark room and a numbness in his arm that stretches up to his shoulder, the taste of iron deep in his throat. He swallows and tries to focus on moving his arm, but finds it bound, pain filling what he can feel of his shoulder when he tries to tug on it, and a glance sideways in the gloom shows that his arm is still active, white claws where his fingers should be. He can't figure out what is pinning it up at first, but then he notices the long, sharp-ended candles jammed in his flesh, two on his forearm and one square in the middle of his palm; it is now that he allows himself to panic, looking furtively around the room for any signs of what's going on. He spots a body on the ground about twenty feet away, dark and unmoving, a moment passing before he recognises it to be Kanda, his sword laying unsheathed some distance away. Allen calls his name, but there is no response, and his breath hitches in his throat. He can't tell if Kanda is still breathing from where he is, wondering, hoping that he is; he is loathe to believe otherwise.
Someone laughs, high and harsh, and he follows the sound upwards, finding the silhouette of somebody floating above him. It is too dark for him to see them properly, but as their laughs taper off into a humoured sigh lights begin to flicker on, candles floating around the room illuminating themselves one by one and casting a flickering orange glow across the empty space. They gently lower themselves to the ground, their shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as they swing whatever they had been sitting on over their shoulder; an umbrella, he realises, not that it matters. "He won't answer," they say, gold eyes fixed on him as they smile. He places that it's a young girl, barely fifteen, her hair cut haphazardly short and a sly grin on her face, and he wonders what in the world is happening.
"What did you do to him?" he asks, dreading the answer but desperate to know. He tries to move his hand again, curling his fingers, finding that they thankfully still somewhat move, hoping that the rest of his arm will be at least as co-operative in its current state.
"Not much, really," she sings, tapping the umbrella against her shoulder as she looks over at the collapsed form of his comrade. "He was a real pain, woke up long before you did, so I had to put him back to sleep for a while. I'm sure he won't be far behind you now. I wonder what he's dreaming about." Her gaze slides back to Allen, and she begins to walk closer, her steps ringing in his ears until she stops barely a few feet in front of him, squatting down and looking at him curiously. "It must be my lucky day, with the Order sending the two of you. The cursed boy and the god of war..." She grins, her tongue flicking between her teeth. "So you're the one? It's a pretty scar, at least."
She's related to the demons, somehow, but he doesn't know enough to place more than that. He expects that she's one of them, but his eye isn't reacting, not even an itch in his scar at her presence where his body knows that she can't be human, surely; it feels all wrong, every inch of him knowing that she's dangerous but unable to place how. "What are you?" he grinds out, a short-lived pang of relief hitting him as his arm begins to tingle. He's making progress.
She grins, white teeth contrasting the darkness of her skin, and she stands again, looking down on him. "Out of your league," she replies simply, with a hint of malice that he hadn't picked up before. "I am of the Clan of Noah. I carry the essence of the first of God's chosen ones. We are the only true Apostles; your little troupe means nothing." He isn't sure what nonsense she's spouting, he just knows he needs to get out, to grab Kanda and find his way out of wherever this is. He pulls on his arm again, gritting his teeth against the feeling as the candles shift in his flesh. "I wouldn't bother," she says, and he pauses, glaring at her. "What are you going to do? Kill me? I'd like to see you try, you human piece of trash."
"Dammit," he breathes, watching her carefully. "Who the hell are you?"
"Oh, I didn't tell you? How rude. Road Kamelot, at your service, my good sir." He can't help his lips turning down in distaste as she gives him a mock curtsey, but it only serves to amuse her, her smile widening. "But of course I know all about you, Allen Walker. Well, that's a lie. I only know most things about you. Like about your father, for instance. Such a shame, what happened to him, don't you think? And I was so looking forward to commanding him as a demon."
Something hot flashes inside him, and he suddenly can't stand to see her face any more. His eyes clamp shut as he pulls, pain shooting sharp and burning throughout him, but he works against it, Road staying silent as his voice rises in his throat and his arm finally tears free of the wall, the candles that had been holding him clattering to the ground and rolling away as his blood spills over them. He's finally free, but at more cost than he'd bargained for, his arm now burning agonisingly bright in his nerves, and he is left panting and dizzy, hazy eyes settling on Road. "You're not chosen by God," he spits out, glad that he's wiped that grin off her face at least for a moment, "You're worse than the demons."
But it soon returns, bringing her lips up. "It's better than following a false god, I suppose," she says, twirling her umbrella in her hand. "Either way, I can still kill you whenever I want." She plucks one of the candles from the air beside her, gold eyes set firmly on his silver ones as she licks the tip of it, slow and languid, and then she flicks her hand. He screams, more than he has ever screamed in his life, tearing from his lungs and resounding in his ears, and all he can think is how much it hurts, it hurts so much he can't take this.
It is this scream that finally wakes Kanda, his eyes sliding open to the sight of Allen curled and bloody on the floor and the dark-skinned girl whose harsh cackles ring painfully in his ears. It doesn't take long for him to put two together and he is on his feet in seconds, grabbing his sword and charging for the girl; she barely has time to look at him before his sword has cut clean through her neck, and then his attention moves to Allen, tense as he squats down beside him. "What happened?" he asks tersely, hoping that the kid is still conscious enough to answer.
He slowly opens his eyes –one of them, at least– the silver orb glassy and distant. "She's... human," he grinds out, his breath heavy and trembling and sticky with the blood on his lips. "But, not quite- Look."
Kanda follows his eyes to where the girl still stands, smoke trailing from her neck as the flesh shifts and grows. He has seen this many times before, watched limbs regrow in layers from the stumps of their former placements, but it doesn't look right on this girl, seeming strangely grotesque. Her eyes are last to form, deep gold set on him in an amused and playful frown. "That wasn't very nice," she coos, running a hand through her mess of dark hair. "I can admire your guts, though, as much as I'd like to see them spilled on the walls."
"You sick fuck," he growls at her, rising to stand with his sword at the ready. "Consider it payback for knocking me out, twice."
She snorts a laugh, stepping back and kicking at the small pile of dust sitting where her previous head had fallen, then turns back to look at Allen, that loathsome smile on her face. "I think I like you, Allen," she says, clicking her fingers, and the air behind her begins to shift. "So I'm going to let you live this time. No guarantees about the next time we meet." Her gaze shifts back to Kanda as something materialises behind her, the air condensing and forming what looks like an oddly-shaped door. "You, though. I'm definitely going to kill you next time."
He scoffs, thinking about whether or not he should strike before she escapes. The way she sounds, they'll definitely be running into her again, so he decides to just let her go. "Ditto, bitch," he growls, and she winks at him, making his blood curl.
"Until next time, Allen," she sings, and Allen watches her go through lidded eyes, the door swinging open to swallow her whole.
Kanda sneers at the door as it slams shut behind her, then returns his attention to Allen, sheathing his sword and kneeling down to inspect the bloody mess of a boy. His left arm deactivates, the white encasing slowly shifting and morphing back into mottled red skin, scars in the flesh where the holes had been. "You are going to tell me everything that happened," he bites, but Allen doesn't answer; his right hand shifts from where it had been held over his eye, moving over to weakly grab a handful of Kanda's sleeve.
"Kanda, you're..." he breathes, and Kanda expects to hear an end to that sentence, but Allen's hand relaxes and falls to his lap, and he figures it's just his luck that the kid passes out after all this. He briefly inspects Allen's eye, not wanting more than a glance at the disgusting mess it's become, and he knows that Allen needs to at least have that looked at by someone who knows what they're doing. He curses his string of bad luck, then focuses his attention on trying to figure out a way to get out of this hell pit they've found themselves in.
Allen opens his eyes to white-washed ceilings and early morning sunlight streaming in through the open window, warm on his arm where a needle sits heavy in his skin. He takes a deep breath of the stuffy hospital air, grimacing as the movement makes him aware of bruises on his ribs and his collarbone, perhaps a fractured bone or two. There is a familiar lack of feeling in his arm, almost parasthetic when he tries to move his fingers. His face hurts, throbbing pain down the whole left side of it and deep in the back of his eye and the base of his skull, and as he looks around the room he realises that he can only see half of what he should. He remembers Road, the unforgettable feeling of her candle jammed in his eye, Kanda's voice in his ears as he passed out, and it suddenly all makes sense.
"Ah, you're finally awake," someone says beside him, and he turns his head to find one of Komui's assistants sitting in a chair by the window, a stack of papers on the small table beside him and a few sheets in his hands. He gives Allen a small smile when he meets his eyes, gentle and warm. "I'm Reever Wenham, head of the science unit. Komui would have been here himself, but he has work that I'm sure he isn't actually doing. How are you feeling?"
He rolls his tongue around his mouth, swallowing the dryness in his throat. "Um, fine," he replies, stretching the fingers of his right hand in the absence of movement in his left. His knuckles are scarred and bruised, a myriad of colours down the length of bare skin on his arm. "What happened?"
"That's what I'm hoping you can tell us," Reever says, and Allen meets his eyes again. "As you can imagine, Kanda was less than forthcoming with the information."
Kanda. "Where is he, is he alright?"
Reever chuckles, setting his papers aside and leaning forward on the chair, linking his hands. "Calm down, mate, he's fine. He's already gone off on another mission."
Already? At least he was well enough to do so, Allen thinks, and allows himself to be relieved. He clenches his hand at his side, three sharp points of pain registering through the numbness, and he glances down to find deep scars where Road had pinned him up. He remembers the room they had been trapped in and tries to decipher what had happened after he'd lost consciousness. "How did we get out?" he asks, looking back over at Reever.
He hums as he thinks about it, absently rubbing his chin. "All Kanda said was that after you passed out, 'the room shifted, and the next thing he knew you were sitting on the floor at the inn'. I couldn't really make sense of it, but he said that you were more likely to clear things up."
Trust Kanda to leave him with the cleaning up, but he supposes that's only fair; he does feel somehow responsible for this mess, and he is, after all, the one who is still in hospital. He looks back up at the ceiling and closes his eyes, thinking over all the events that had transpired the past day or so, depending on how long he'd been asleep; he doesn't really want to explain all that right now. "Is it urgent?" he asks, opening his eyes after his body threatens to fall asleep again. "I... have other questions."
"Yeah, sure. You want me to get you up to speed on things?"
"Please."
Reever clears his throat, shuffling through his papers to find one in particular, and Allen figures it must be his medical report or something similar. "You were asleep for a day and a half, which is understandable given the strain on your body. You had minor head trauma, which has since healed, two fractured ribs, various other scars and bruising all fairly minor, aside from one on your upper arm that needed stitches. Your left arm his healing unnaturally well, but I suppose that's because of the nature of it; the scars should be healed completely in about a week. Kanda didn't have as many injuries, he was mostly just fatigued, which is why he's out again so soon."
"That doesn't make sense," Allen says, thinking back to when the demons had trapped them. "When they caught us, he was..."
"I wouldn't worry about it," Reever tells him, chuckling a little and setting the paper back down. "He's a mystery to pretty much all of us. Heals like a gecko, that one."
He's still confused about it, but decides to put that information to the back of his mind for now to think on later. His attention moves to his eye, reaching his good hand up to gently run his fingers over the bandage covering it. "And what about my eye?" he asks, knowing that there must have been some reason that Reever had left it out of his account. He fears for the worst, and it is not unfounded; Reever's expression shifts to something darker, and he knows that bad news is coming.
Reever takes a deep breath, linking his hands in thought. "Allen, this can be a hard thing for anyone to bear, and I understand if you're going to be upset about it, but the Order still needs you, so I need you to try and take this as best you can, alright?" Allen swallows the fear rising in his throat, already having a good idea of what he's about to hear. Having it spoken doesn't make it any easier, but at least the confirmation erases any doubts that might arise. "It's... Your eye is gone, as far as we can tell. I'm not sure if it's because of your abilities as an Apostle or what, but a kind of... skin, I suppose, some kind of encasing has formed over your eye socket, and it's hard enough that the doctors couldn't get through it to remove the remains of the eye, and you're too valuable for us to experiment in trying to remove the covering. Regardless, you apparently had something akin to a stake jammed in there; there's no way to fully recover from that."
He's going to have to live the rest of his life with only one eye, he realises. He doubts he would be reacting so harshly had it been his right eye, but it wasn't, and the fact of the matter is that he has lost his only advantage against the demons, lost the last thing Mana had ever given him, whether that had been in spite or otherwise. Cursed or not, it wasn't going to do any good any more, not now that he can't see the demons for what they are. His feels his right eye sting as moisture wells up in it, and he moves his hand up to wipe it away before it spills. "I suppose that's it, then?" he asks, and Reever looks at him in confusion. "It's gone for good?"
He seems hesitant, guilty, and Allen feels bad for him, having to be the bearer of bad news like this. "Well, yes. That's the only conclusion we can draw right now," he says quietly, narrowing his eyes in concern. "Allen, are you... going to be alright?"
He nods, taking a deep breath as the tears spill regardless of his efforts to subdue them. "Yes, I just- I'll be fine," he murmurs, removing the hand covering his face to stare at the ceiling. "There's nothing else I can do, and these things happen, right? It's only natural, doing work like this. I just need to... to keep moving forward regardless. I can still fight, so that's what I'm going to do. As soon as I'm healed here it'll be barely any different to before."
"Um, about that," Reever puts in gently, and Allen looks at him, wondering what he means. "It's going to take some time before you're allowed to fight again."
The frustration rises as anger in his throat, and Allen has to bite his tongue to keep himself from snapping something he'll regret. "What?" he asks instead, hoping to God that there's a good reason for it.
"You're not ready to step back into duty quite yet," he explains, as gently as he can. "You've lost an entire eye; that isn't something you can get used to in a day. You're going to need time to learn how to compensate for a blind side. Yes, I suppose the best way to learn is through battle, but it's far too dangerous and there are much safer alternatives. I'm sure Lavi will be happy to help you train."
He wants to cry, wants to scream that he doesn't need that time being useless, but he knows through his rage that Reever is right, and the flame of anger in his chest begins to quell as he thinks of the long road ahead of him. Even with intense training it will take months, years even to be as good in battle as he has been with both eyes, and even then he may never get used to it. He sighs heavily, his chest hurting with the motion, and after all this he realises how tired he still is. "Alright," he mutters, and Reever gives him a small smile. He hates it, but there's nothing he can do about it now; he just has to keep walking and believing in his own ability to grow stronger as he goes, and hoping that it's enough to save them.
A/N: I'm ashamed that Lenalee hasn't really been an important character thus far, but I'm hoping to remedy that in the next chapter or two, so for those who have been asking where she is, you can expect more of her to come.